Tigana

by Guy Gavriel Kay

that one of the truest measures of the Duke’s stature as a ruler of men had emerged on that winter night so long ago. The night he broke a decade’s stony silence and spoke to his middle son and made him his confidant. His sole confidant in the painfully cautious eighteen-year quest to drive Alberico and his sorcery and his mercenaries from Astibar and the Eastern Palm. A quest that had become an obsession for both of them, even as

In this fashion had Sandre and Tomasso discovered that sorcerers cannot, in fact, be poisoned.

Nievole and Scalvaia, so carefully chosen two years before.

“My brother Taeri and nephew Herado—one of Gianno’s by-blows, and much the cleverest.”

“Who is the third?” Lord Scalvaia asked softly.

I will confess, in the spirit of truth that a death vigil should inspire, that being ruled by a coarse, vicious, overbearing minor lord from Barbadior brings little joy to my aged heart. I am with you. If you have a plan I would like to hear it. On my oath and honor I will keep faith with the Sandreni in this.”

“And I will dare to say that the word of the Nievolene has never been valued at lesser coin. The dearest wish of my heart is for the Barbadian to lie dead and cut to pieces—Triad willing, by my own blade. I too am with you—by my oath and honor.”