Krondor: The Assassins. Raymond E. Feist
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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 catches us somewhat unprepared. We thought you would arrive later in the week.’
The duke bowed. ‘Apologies, Your Highness,’ he said in a deep voice, his speech only slightly accented. ‘We caught favourable winds from Opardum and arrived in Salador a week before we were scheduled. Rather than linger, we pressed on. I trust we have caused Your Highnesses no undue inconvenience?’
Arutha shook his head. ‘Not at all. We just lack a fitting welcome, that is all.’
The duke smiled and James felt no warmth from that expression. The man was polished and his education was obvious, but at heart there was that brawler James had recognized at once. ‘I’m sorry, Highness, I assumed the gala tonight was to welcome us.’
Anita’s face froze for a moment, then the duke turned to her and said, ‘Highness, I jest. The matter is one of scant importance. We call only out of courtesy to your office and your husband’s. We are bound for the Keshian port of Durbin. From there we will venture into the Trollhome Mountains, where we understand the hunting is both plentiful and exotic. Any small gesture of hospitality on your part is a boon beyond our expectation.’
James saw Jerome go slightly rigid. The fussy ex-squire was a stickler for protocol and the duke had managed to brush aside an apology from Arutha and return an insult, without making it obvious. This man obviously felt no timorousness being in the presence of a Prince.
Anita had been court bred and knew the intricacies of court manners. She knew that anything she said in response to the slight would only worsen her situation socially. She merely inclined her head and said, ‘I suspect the subtleties of the east are lost upon us here in the west. Would you present your companions?’
The duke bowed and turned to the younger of the two men. ‘Your Highness, may I present my nephew, His Highness, Vladic, son of my brother the Archduke, heir to the throne and Crown Prince of Olasko, Prince of the House of Roldem by blood.’ On cue the young man stepped forward and bowed in greeting to the Prince and Princess of Krondor. Then the duke said, ‘And this is Kazamir, my son and heir to my house, also Prince of the House of Roldem by blood.’ The other son bowed effortlessly, with exactly the proper deference for one of his rank before Prince Arutha. Smoothly, the duke turned and said, ‘And this is my daughter, Paulina, Princess of the House of Roldem by blood.’
Arutha nodded greeting. ‘You are all welcome in Krondor.’ He made a small gesture to Jerome, who hurried off to ready guest apartments for the duke and his entourage. James was again forced to concede that Jerome was good at what he did. He had no doubt the rooms would be aired, with wine and other refreshments on hand, and a squad of pages ready to do the duke’s bidding.
Arutha said, ‘We are celebrating a safe return from troubles to the north. You are most welcome to remain for the gala.’
The duke smiled. ‘My thanks. From the reports and gossip we heard along the way from Salador to Krondor, I suspect the troubles were not trivial. A gala is most appropriate to celebrate a Prince’s safe return.
‘I am tired from the journey, however, and will beg your forgiveness and retire. The children, perhaps, might enjoy some music and revelry after our long journey.’
James realized this was not an option, but an instruction. The two youngsters turned to their father and bowed, while the Crown Prince merely looked on for a moment, then inclined his head. Radswil bowed to the Prince and withdrew before Arutha had time to do more than wave agreement. Master de Lacy intercepted the duke and his retainers at the door and escorted them to the guest quarters.
Arutha turned to James and said, ‘Squire James, would you please see that our guests are refreshed?’
James bowed and stepped down the dais and presented himself to the duke’s children with a courtly bow. Keenly aware the introduction of the three youngsters revealed the Olaskans’ formality in matters of rank, James said, ‘Prince Vladic, Princess, Prince, may I offer you refreshments?’
Vladic studied James a moment, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, then he nodded.
With as deft a movement as James had seen, he found himself with the Princess Paulina’s arm through his, before he had even had the chance to offer his hand, a far more courteous gesture. The familiarity almost caught him off guard. ‘Tell me, squire,’ said Paulina, as they moved towards the large table where refreshments were offered, ‘how do you come to serve the Prince, personally?’
James was struck by two things at once. There was something about her, a scent, perhaps an exotic perfume, that caused his blood to race. He suddenly experienced a fierce desire. And that in turn caused what James had long called his ‘bump of trouble’ to start bothering him. Paulina was a pretty enough girl – many would even say beautiful – and easily one of the most attractive at the gala, but James was long used to the wiles of women and she was not so extraordinarily attractive that he should find himself being so irresistibly drawn to her.
He glared at the two young men, saw what he took to be a slight sense of amusement in Kazamir’s expression, and a mask of neutrality in Vladic.
Forcing his attention back to her question, he replied, ‘I was granted my office for service to the crown.’
Ever so slightly she drew away. ‘Oh?’ she said. If a single word could convey volumes of meaning, hers did.
James smiled his most charming smile and said, ‘Yes. You wouldn’t know, of course, being from so distant a land. Before coming to the Prince’s service, I was a thief.’
It took a massive application of will power on the Princess’s part not to push herself away from James. Her frozen smile looked almost painful as she said, ‘Really?’ while behind her, Kazamir suppressed a laugh. Even Vladic betrayed a slight upturn of his mouth, the hint of a smile.
Just then James spied William, who had been stationed by the table of refreshments, and said, ‘Allow me to introduce someone to you, Highnesses.’ He signalled for the young cadet to approach and when William did, James said, ‘Highnesses,