He realized suddenly that he was a totally free agent, detached and
uninvolved. Van Alen had led him forth from Iowa Province, and van Alen
was dead. He owed nothing to van Alen, nothing to Iowa.
He stood alone, unknown and unwanted in the world of the Twelve
Empires, able to shape his own destinies. And Miguel was offering him a
title, a home, an allegiance, at the cost of an assassination.
_Well, why not?_ he asked himself. _My hand is free. Why not strike
down a Duke?_
He moistened his lips. "I'll consider it," he said. "But first--let me
see the girl."
* * * * *
Alone, waiting for Miguel to return, Kesley tried to think.
Kill Winslow?
Kill a Duke--an Immortal?
The idea seemed incredible, almost obscene. It was like saying, "Snuff
out a star," or, "Destroy a world." The Dukes were centers of their
universes, and one did not kill them.