Free Krondor the Assassins by Raymond E. Feist

Prince’s favor.’’
    ‘‘Any Keshians?’’ asked James.
    ‘‘A few,’’ said Jerome. ‘‘Traders.’’ He glanced over at James and asked, ‘‘Or did you have some particular Keshians in mind?’’
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    James shook his head a little as the dance came to a close.
    ‘‘No, but I wish I did.’’
    If Jerome was curious about the remark, he didn’t show it.
    James had come to admire his reticence, as a great deal of a Master of Ceremony’s time was spent dealing with idiots, many of them powerful and rich. The ability not to hear things convincingly was a skill James felt he lacked and needed to cultivate.
    A bit of a bustle at the far end of the hall began as the first dance ended. Arutha bowed to Anita and offered his hand, which she took, to escort her back to the dais.
    From the opposite end of the hall came the booming crack of de Lacy’s staff of office striking the floor heralding the arrival of someone of note. De Lacy’s old, but still strong, voice carried the hall, as he intoned, ‘‘Your Highnesses, Lord Radswil, Duke of Olasko!’’
    James said, ‘‘Radswil of Olasko?’’
    Jerome whispered, ‘‘Pronounced Rads-vil , you ignoramus. One of the Eastern Kingdoms—a duchy, actually.’’ Looking with mock disdain at James he said, ‘‘Study the map, my friend. The man’s the younger brother of the Grand Duke Vaclav, and uncle to the Prince of Aranor.’’ Dropping his voice even lower, Jerome said,
    ‘‘Which means he’s a cousin to the King of Roldem.’’
    A stir spread through the room as those who had occupied the dance floor parted to allow a large man and his retinue to cross to where Arutha and Anita were just sitting down. James studied the man and didn’t like what he saw.
    The duke was a bruiser, James could tell, despite his fine raiment. A large velvet hat of dark maroon, looking like an oversized beret, dropped off to one shoulder, a large silver brooch with a long white feather sweeping back from it. His black jacket was tailored to fit snugly, and James could see the 66

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    massive shoulders were not padded, but merely reinforced his impression that Lord Radswil could easily hold his own in the rougher inns of the city. Black leggings and stockings finished the ensemble, all of the finest make. The sword at his side was a rapier, much like the one Arutha wore, often used and a serious weapon. The only difference was that Radswil’s had a silver-and-gold-decorated bellguard.
    At his left hand walked a young girl, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, wearing a dress to rival the Princess’s, though cut as daringly low as modesty permitted. James studied her face. She was pretty in a predatory way, with the eyes of a hunter. For a brief moment he gave thanks that Locklear was gone from the court. Since they were boys, James had joked that girls would get Locklear killed some day, and this one looked about as dangerous as any James had seen, despite her youth.
    Then James felt eyes upon him and glanced across. At Radswil’s right hand walked two young men, about James’s own age from what he could tell. The one closest to the duke looked like a younger version of Radswil, heavy set, powerful of stature and full of confidence. The one farthest from the duke bore enough of a resemblance to be a younger brother, but he was leaner and his eyes had a menacing cast as he fixed them upon James. He was studying James as James had been studying the party, and intuitively James knew what that young man was doing; he was picking out potential enemies in court. James felt a chill run down his back as the duke bowed before Arutha.
    Jerome, now acting the part of his office as assistant to the Master of Ceremonies, stepped forward and said, ‘‘Your Highnesses, may I present Radswil, Lord Steznichia, Duke of Olasko.’’
    Arutha said, ‘‘Welcome to our court, my lord. Your arrival 67

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