King of Ashes [Book One]

by Raymond E. Feist

  Zusara nodded. ‘He is firm but can also be kind. He enjoys teaching, which is why someone hungry for knowledge, like Hatu, would be drawn to him. Where is he now?’

  ‘Somewhere in the west of North Tembria. His village reeve will know.’

  ‘Send word we are sending him … a problem.’

  Mikial nodded once. ‘To reach Marquenet by the appointed time, we must send fast ships.’

  ‘Ships?’

  ‘Until we know more about those three ships, I want to ensure the boy gets to Baron Dumarch safely.’ He was silent for a moment while he considered something. ‘Sail the Narrows,’ he said at last, ‘to the far coast of North Tembria, up to Port Colos, then on to Pashtar. Have Bodai meet Reza and the boy there. Then Reza will depart and Bodai will escort him to the baron. He will be coming from the north, and should anything befall him, that is as removed from us as we can make it.’

  ‘Shall Bodai kill the boy?’

  Zusara said, ‘If needed, but I’d like another with them, in case something runs afoul.’

  Mikial looked at Facaria and said, ‘Is there another student, one in the nocusara, he trusts?’

  ‘He is a boy with few friends; that temper of his … and his closest companion’ – he glanced at Kugal, whose expression darkened at reference to Donte – ‘is dead.’ Facaria shook his head. ‘There is no nocusara he knows well enough to trust. He was returning from his first unsupervised mission when he was taken.’

  ‘He mentioned a girl,’ said Zusara.

  ‘Hava,’ Facaria supplied, nodding. ‘They are close, and she was also friends with Donte. Separating the three of them was a problem from time to time.’ Facaria looked down, lost in thought for a moment. ‘I believe he is attracted to her. However, I’m not certain he understands his desires; his other feelings are often overwhelmed by his deep anger.’ He paused as if considering the girl. After a moment, he said, ‘She is not sicari yet, but she is very good; I have marked her to join the nocusara.’

  ‘Where is she now?’ asked Zusara.

  ‘She is on my island. She returned from training with the Powdered Women. From reports, she’s not naturally gifted and needs more instruction, or …’ He shrugged. ‘Some are not suited for that type of duty.’

  He glanced at Kugal, who furrowed his brow. Unlike most other masters, Kugal forbade his sons and grandsons from being trained by the Powdered Women. He said it was fine for other families, but it was not the way of a warrior. The other masters found his attitude peculiar, but each master was in charge of his own family, so no one challenged him. Most thought he denied his family potentially useful agents.

  Kugal attempted to salvage some dignity from the moment and said, ‘Facaria is right. Some are not suited for that sort of work.’ He fell silent, still fuming.

  Zusara frowned at the digression. ‘Is this the girl who killed the assassin?’

  Facaria nodded once.

  ‘You think she is fit to become sicari?’

  ‘She has the skills, but I am not yet certain she possesses the temperament. If she does, she will be very worthy.’

  ‘Could she kill the boy?’

  Facaria shrugged. ‘I don’t know – she has the skill, but again, temperament? Defending herself was impressive, but to murder a friend?’ He shrugged. ‘At the least she can distract him if we need to send another.’ He fell silent for a moment, then said, ‘He would be better than any student I’ve had, but his anger gets in the way; when he keeps his wits about him, he is faster and more dangerous than any boy I’ve seen at the school. Were he one of us, I would suggest his training for the nocusara start now. He should be able to best her in everything, running, fighting, anything, but sometimes she gets the best of him. As I said, I think he desires her … or more.’

  ‘More?’

  ‘He may have further romantic notions.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Zusara. ‘You may be right. He mentioned her in passing, but …’ He was silent as he thought, then said, ‘Yes, send for her. If you leave as soon as she arrives, you should have little trouble reaching the baron’s keep on the appointed day.’ Glancing at the masters in the room, he said, ‘Do we have any agents in Marquenet?’

  A slightly built man, Master Rengara, nodded. ‘I have a crew.’

  Zusara raised an eyebrow. ‘An entire crew? Why did I not know that?’

  Rengara shrugged off the question. ‘Not Council business.’

  Zusara fixed the younger master with his narrow gaze for a moment. Rengara would not have been the first of them to carve out his own enterprise and deny his fellow masters their cut. ‘We’ll discuss that later. Right now I need you to send them word. We’ll wait for the girl to come down from Facaria’s village and when she, Reza, and the boy arrive in Marquenet I want them alerted to Reza’s arrival. We’ll stage a little mummery at the appropriate time.’

  ‘Why bother with all this?’ demanded Kugal, his temper getting the best of him again. ‘Get the boy to the city so Facaria can rest at night knowing his contract is fulfilled, then kill him!’

  Looking at his old friend as if he was tired of repeating himself, Zusara used a tone that would serve a slow-witted student. ‘As I said before, we do not know what interest Baron Dumarch has in this boy, why he gave him over to us for protection rather than keep him in his own city. We must discover his motives, and nothing must tie us to the boy’s death. Am I making myself understood?’

  Kugal stiffened, unused to being addressed in such a fashion, but after a moment, he sank back into the cushion and nodded that he understood. He had lost enough debates with Zusara over the years to know he had also lost this one. Zusara was first among equals; someone might challenge his implicit authority one day, but not today.

  ‘One more thing before we adjourn,’ said Zusara. ‘The three ships?’

  A master named Tagaga, built heavily, like a worker, with dark eyes that were set in a perpetual squint, glanced around the room. ‘Rounders?’

  The Rounders were pirates, called that because of the massive circular wind pattern that ran through the islands, They would sail from the north through the Northern Islands, head south across the Clearing, then westwards through the southern islands, then turn north and up the eastern coast of South and North Tembria, and somewhere before the ice floes, turn eastwards until they started their circle again. It made it very easy for pirates to intercept trade.

  ‘I do not know of many bands who sail three ships in a squadron,’ said Zusara.

  ‘And what if they are in league with those witches?’ suggested Kugal.

  Zusara was relieved to see Donte’s grandfather inclined to spread the responsibility for his grandson’s death, alleviating some blame from Hatu’s shoulders; it wouldn’t change his fate, but it would keep Kugal from nagging Zusara about it. ‘Perhaps, but let us not assume there is a relationship until it’s proven. I’m more concerned about a pirate squadron that does not flee upon sighting the Coaltachin banner than I am about the remote possibility of their being in league with the Sisters of the Deep. That magic …’ He shook his head. ‘We may well have to deal with those witches some day, but right now having ships that challenge us in our own waters is the immediate threat.’

  The other masters murmured agreement. ‘Send word to all our agents in the islands and along the coast of North Tembria; we need any hint of who owns those ships. Any possible sighting needs to he reported, even if it seems trivial,’ said Zusara. ‘There are few who would attempt to take one of our ships, but they are gone and so we needn’t name them.’

  The masters glanced around, nodding in agreement. Coaltachin had very few enemies, all well known to the Council, but there was one enemy they feared the most, and they were all reluctant to speak of them.

  Facaria said, ‘I disagree. We needn’t name those lost to us, but we need to be cautious if it is indeed they who now prowl our waters.’

  Kugal seemed ready to launch another angry outburst, but his demeanour changed suddenly and i
nstead he let out an audible sigh. ‘Facaria is right. Those who … left … in our grandfathers’ grandfathers’ time, they are like us.’ He looked around the room. ‘And I’ve had reports from some of my crews. Not one thing or another, just … hints that someone could be near.’

  Master Tagaga said, ‘Could you be any more unclear? Spit it out, Kugal.’

  Kugal looked ready to explode again, even come across the table at Tagaga, who looked more than ready for a physical confrontation should it come to that.

  ‘Masters!’ scolded Zusara.

  Kugal looked at Zusara and said, ‘Fine. Those who refused to obey the Council and went south, only to be lost in the Ten Thousand Islands, may be returning.’

  ‘How would you know?’ demanded Tagaga.

  ‘Little things. Someone’s nibbling around the edges of some of my crews in the south. Someone very clever. We think she is called the Spider.’

  ‘She?’

  Kugal shrugged. ‘Some of my crew captains say it is a woman. Maybe it’s misdirection, but the crews we have encountered were not the usual street thugs and bullies. They have some art; it’s well hidden but there.’

  ‘Have you been openly challenged?’ asked Zusara.

  ‘No, but …’ Kugal sat back, shaking his head. ‘Something is coming. I can feel it.’

  Zusara paused, then said, ‘We shall wait and discuss this when the other members of the Council have returned, and send word now to those we trust the most to stay alert and report any hint of … our brothers’ return.’

  Looking at Rengara, he said, ‘And no more of this “it’s not the Council’s business” and establishing crews where none of us knew you had any. We need to know about any hint of a threat, like this “Spider”. It may be nothing, but it may be …’ He lowered his voice and said, ‘Azhante.’

  Just the utterance of the word caused the other masters to become still and attentive. Their expressions revealed they wished they had not heard that word.

  Zusara made a gesture, closing off further discussion. ‘And if there is a line from those ships to the witches we will discover it soon enough. The day will come when we must put an end to those filthy cannibal women, but that day is not today.

  ‘Now, let us return to the matter of the boy and his short future. Does anyone have anything to add to what we have decided here?’ When no one spoke, he glanced from face to face, then without another word nodded, indicating that the meeting was over.

  The masters arose and departed, Kugal and Tagaga exchanging dark looks as they left the room. As Facaria passed, Zusara said, ‘Tell the boy to be ready to travel tomorrow, if you will.’

  The old master nodded and inclined his head to Mikial as he left, and the man moved to stand beside his father.

  When Zusara and his eldest son were alone, Mikial asked, ‘Why does this feel far more dangerous than it should?’

  The old master nodded slightly in agreement. ‘I don’t know, but it does reck of risk.’ Letting out a slow deep breath, Zusara said, ‘The seer has limits, and she doesn’t always speak clearly of what she sees, so the scope of the danger is unknown, and that troubles me more than I can say.’

  Mikial reached out and gave his father’s shoulder a squeeze, then said, ‘I’ll tell Reza what he is to do with the boy.’ He turned and left.

  Alone for a moment, Zusara looked around the largest room of his small home, at the place where he spent most of his time. He found no reassurance in the familiar surroundings because in his heart he knew that the threat they faced was far greater than he was willing to share with his son.

  FACARIA SAW HATU WAITING ALONE near a tree, taking advantage of the shade in the noon heat. Reza lay nearby, on his back with his eyes closed as if he was napping. Facaria motioned for Hatu to walk with him, and a few steps down the path from Zusara’s home, said, ‘Reza is sleeping?’

  Hatu tried not to smile. ‘I doubt it, and he may well ask me to recount our conversation as soon as you depart.’

  ‘Departure is what: I wish to speak with you about, and there is little time.’

  Mikial left the building and a moment later Reza was on his feet. The elder brother motioned for Hatu to approach them and Master Facaria followed.

  Mikial said, ‘Reza, you and the boy will leave on the morning tide. Father instructed me to tell you what needs to be done.’

  Facaria said, ‘Ah, so we honour the contract.’

  Mikial said, ‘We honour the contract, yes.’

  Facaria handed Hatu a travel bag. ‘As he won’t be leaving until the morning and I am leaving as soon as I reach the docks, he can carry an old man’s bag one last time.’ He motioned for Hatu to follow him and turned away.

  Hatu caught Reza begin to object, but Mikial said, ‘Be back as soon as you’re finished, Hatushaly.’

  When they were beyond hearing, Facaria said, ‘They may be Zusara’s boys, but I am still a master.’

  He looked at Hatu for a long moment and then said, ‘They will ask you what we spoke of. You will shrug and say that an old man prattled on about life.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘You are part of my last class of students, Hatu.’ The old master let out a deep sigh of regret. ‘Yes, you, Donte, and the others, you are my last class. Soon, I will no longer be the master who controls Morasel. They will let me keep my house, but my family will be assimilated into another. I have no male offspring and my only remaining daughter is married to another master, so she is part of his family now.’

  Hatu kept pace with the old man, who walked with purpose, if slowly. He did not know what to say.

  ‘I am the oldest master alive in Coaltachin,’ said Facaria. ‘There is an adage that age brings wisdom. If that were true, you would not be here, walking me to the boat that will take me home to wait for death’s appearance.’

  Hatu was alarmed. He was on the verge of speaking when Facaria held up a hand, cutting him off.

  ‘When I was your age,’ he said, ‘and I left my home to travel and learn from those older and more knowledgeable, I imagined I would either live forever or die gloriously in service to my people.’ He shrugged and smiled ruefully. ‘Little did I dream that on my retirement day, I would be the last of my class left alive. Zusara is nearly ten years younger than me and was part of a crew I once ran for a little while when he was your age.’

  Facaria stared off in the distance as they walked. ‘All my brothers, sons, nephews, all the male members of my family died before me. My wife died years ago. I do not even have a granddaughter to marry off to some promising lad able to take on the task of leading a family, even a small one such as mine.’

  They reached the main road down to the city and kept walking at a steady pace. Hatu knew what he was hearing was important, though he didn’t know why, so he focused his attention.

  Approaching the outer edge of Corbara, Facaria said, ‘You will be told things when you reach Marquenet, things which should make the mystery of your early life clear to you. I would tell you, but …’ The ancient master paused and then asked, ‘Did Zusara call me an old woman at any time?’

  Hatu simply nodded, afraid to anger a master by speaking out of turn.

  Facaria laughed. ‘He used to call me that when we were young.’ He walked slowly, lost in thought for a moment, then said, ‘We are nearing the end, Hatushaly.’

  ‘Sir?’ said Hatu, clearly showing he did not understand.

  ‘Everything has a life span; some are very long, like those of nations. The Five Kingdom Covenant lasted over two hundred years, longer if you consider the peaceful period that allowed the Treaty of the Covenant to be forged.

  ‘Men often dream their creations will endure, live forever, but everything dies, eventually.’ He pointed into the distance, where a faint mountain peak could be seen rising through the day’s haze on the north side of the island. ‘That mountain will be worn away some day; even the staunchest rocks succumb to rain and wind. It is the way of things.’ He glanced heavenwards and said, �
��Who knows? Perhaps some day the very stars will die.’

  They were now entering the outskirts of the city and Facaria had to raise his voice a little but still managed to keep the conversation just between them. ‘So, Hatu, this is an ending, too.’

  ‘What, master? I really don’t understand.’

  Facaria smiled. ‘You will some day, perhaps even soon. Now, a question: Hava? You are close?’

  Hatu could not help the colour that rose in his cheeks. ‘She and Donte …’ He felt a stab of pain even mentioning his lost friend. ‘She’s my best friend.’

  ‘You trust her?’

  Hatu nodded.

  ‘Don’t,’ said Facaria. ‘When you reach Marquenet and learn what Baron Daylon will tell you, then make up your mind about who you will trust. I fear you will be uncertain, but trust your instincts; they are all you have. Sometimes they are all any of us have.’

  Hatu’s confusion was obvious. Facaria stopped and gestured for Hatu to follow him into a relatively quiet doorway on the busy street. ‘That upsets you. Why?’

  Hatu was hesitant, then said, ‘She’s my friend.’

  Facaria studied Hatushaly for a moment and then shook his head. ‘I’ve watched you three grow up, you, Donte, and Hava. She is more than a friend.’

  Hatu shrugged, at a loss for words.

  Facaria sighed theatrically. ‘Did Zusara give you his talk on not falling in love? Did he say that women will only weaken you?’

  Hatu nodded, afraid to speak through the emotions roiling inside him, anger, confusion, and many others he could not name.

  ‘That little hypocrite,’ he said with a regretful smile. ‘He’s not only fallen in love, he’s done it twice. At the same time!’ Facaria chuckled. ‘Still, his heart was in the right place when he warned you not to get involved with any woman in the Quelli Nascosti.’ He studied Hatu’s face for a moment, then asked, ‘Did he tell you why?’

  ‘That should she become pregnant—’

  Facaria cut him off with a simple wave. ‘That is nonsense. It can be a problem, yes, but that’s not why students are forbidden to be together.’