Free King of Foxes by Raymond E. Feist Page A

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    the palace. But he hadn’t slept well, and wondered if his restless night was due to the choice that now confronted him.
    Kaspar was in his debt; so how was Tal to take service with him and not look overly anxious? His idea of killing Prince Matthew and having Kaspar intercede to protect him now seemed eminently plausible; Magnus was correct: Tal’s status as Champion of the Masters’ Court gained him many privileges, but what were the obligations? Tal pondered that for a moment.
    He knew he could manipulate any number of social situations where Prince Matthew would be forced to call him out for a duel. Someone would insist it be to first blood, and Tal could “accidentally” kill him; unfortunate, but such things happen. Ironically , Tal considered, they happen to me a lot, actually . No, that wouldn’t do, for a duel would be about honor, and while the King might never again allow him in the palace . . .
    A brawl, perhaps? Matthew had an appetite for some of the seedier bordellos and gaming halls in the city. He went “in disguise,” despite the fact everyone knew him, and he used his position to great advantage.
    Tal discarded the idea; not public enough.
    There was no easy way to kill him in such a way as to land in that magic place between being forgiven and being beheaded. And even if he did land in that magical place, and Kaspar interceded on his behalf, that would settle Kaspar’s debt. Tal liked having that debt.
    No, he decided as he arose, he wouldn’t kill Prince Matthew. Another idea came to him. He sat back and thought about it, and decided he had not considered his own role closely enough. There might just be a way to make himself persona non grata in Roldem. He could keep himself off the headsman’s block yet seemingly have no so-

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    cial future left in Roldem. At which point it would seem as if he had no choice but to take service with the Duke.
    “Pasko,” he called, and a moment later Amafi entered the room. “Magnificence, may I serve?” he asked in the language of the Isles.
    “Where’s Pasko?” he asked, motioning for his trousers.
    The former assassin handed them to Tal. “He went to the morning market, Magnificence, shopping for food.
    What may I do for you?”
    Tal considered this, and said, “I guess now is as good a time as any for you to learn to be a valet.”
    “Valet? Magnificence, I do not know the word.”
    Tal had forgotten he was speaking Roldemish, a language in which Amafi could barely keep up. “ Il cameriere personale ,” said Tal in the Quegan language.
    “Ah, a manservant,” said Amafi in the King’s Tongue, as the language of the Isles was known. “I have spent some time among men of breeding, Magnificence, so it will be of little matter to learn your needs. But what of Pasko?”
    “Pasko will be leaving us soon, I’m afraid.” Tal sat and pulled on his boots. “It’s a family matter, and he must return to his father’s side up north in Latagore.”
    Amafi didn’t ask for any details. He just said, “Then I shall endeavor to match him in caring for your comfort.”
    “We still need to work on your Roldemish,” said Tal, falling back into that language. “I’m for the Masters’
    Court. Wait here for Pasko, then tell him to begin to acquaint you with my routines. He will explain as he goes.
    Become like his shadow for a while and observe. Ask questions if they do not disturb me or any in my company; otherwise, keep them until the two of you are alone.
    “Tell him to meet me at Remarga’s at midday and bring fresh clothing. Then I will dine at . . . Baldwin’s, _______________
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    outside along the Grand Canal, then some afternoon cards at Depanov’s. I’ll return here to change into something more appropriate for supper.”
    “Yes, Magnificence.”
    Tal put on the same shirt he had worn the day before and threw a casual jacket across one shoulder as