Prince of the Blood, the King's Buccaneer

by Raymond E. Feist

  Borric said, ‘What?’

  ‘The local constable, I expect.’

  ‘Him?’ said Borric. ‘He looks more a beggar or monk than any sort of fighting man.’

  The ferryman nodded. ‘Right you are, sir. He’s our Peacekeeper.’ He grinned up at James. ‘You know your way around, sir. Yes, you do. That’s one of the magicians from the island. The council that runs the place keeps it peaceful-like over here in Stardock Town, so they make sure that we have the means. He has no sword, young sir,’ he said to Borric, ‘but with a wave of his hand he can stun you worse than a poleaxe to the noggin. Believe me, sir, I found that out the hard way.’ His voice falling to a near mutter, he added, ‘Or, it could be the magic what sets you to itching so bad you wish to die …’ Returning to the topic at hand, he raised his voice, ‘And as far as hagglin’, sir, as much as I do enjoy a good round of lying about how much injury a good profit does my children’s diet, the fact is the Academy sets the rates.’ He scratched his chin. ‘Suppose you could haggle with that young spellcaster over there, but I expect he’ll tell you the same. Given the traffic back and forth, the prices are fair.’

  ‘Where is the stable?’ James asked, but just then several small boys pushed from the crowd and offered to take their horses.

  ‘The boys will see your mounts to a clean stable.’ James nodded and dismounted. The other riders followed suit. Instantly, small hands removed reins from James’s grasp as other children did likewise throughout the company. ‘Very well,’ said James, ‘but see they have clean stalls and fresh hay and oats. And have a farrier check shoes, will you?’

  James ceased his commentary as something caught his eye. He turned abruptly, reached out, and yanked a small boy away from Borric’s horse. James lifted the boy off the ground and looked him hard in the eyes. ‘Give it back,’ he said with a calm note of menace. The boy began to protest, then when James shook him for emphasis, thought better of it and held out a small coin purse to Borric. Borric’s mouth opened as he patted himself down and then accepted the purse.

  James put the boy down but held onto his shirt front, then leaned down so he was eye to eye with the would-be cutpurse. ‘Boy, before I was half your size I knew more than twice what you’ll ever know about thieving. Do you believe me?’ The boy could only nod, so frightened was he at discovery. ‘Then take my word on the matter. You haven’t the knack. You’ll end up at the end of a short rope waiting for a long drop before you’re twelve if you keep this up. Find an honest trade. Now, if anything is missing when we leave, I’ll know who to look for, won’t I?’ The boy nodded again.

  James sent him scurrying and turned to the ferryman. ‘Then it’ll be twenty-four of us on foot to the island.’

  At this, the young magician rose to his feet and said, ‘It’s not often we have armed soldiers come to the Academy. May I ask your business?’

  ‘You may ask,’ said James. ‘But we’ll save our answers for another. If we need your permission, send word to the magician Pug that old friends come to call.’

  The young magician raised an eyebrow. ‘Who should I tell him comes to call?’

  James smiled, ‘Tell him … Baron James of Krondor, and …’ he glanced at the twins, ‘some of his kinsmen.’

  A small group waited to welcome the company as the ferry came to rest against the shore with a bump. A loading dock was the only sign that this was the entrance to perhaps the strangest community upon Midkemia, the Academy of Magicians. Workers aided the soldiers as they negotiated the dock. Many were unsteady after their first ride on a flat-bottomed ferry. Lanterns hung from the dock posts, illuminating the welcoming committee.

  A short man of middle years, wearing only a black robe and sandals, was at the centre of the group. To his right stood a striking, dark-skinned woman with iron-grey hair. An old man in robes stood to his left, a large huntsman in leather tunic and trousers at his shoulder. Behind them two younger men, attired in robes, waited patiently.

  As James, Locklear, and the twins stepped off the ferry, the short man stepped forward and bowed slightly. ‘Your Highnesses honour us.’ Then he said, ‘Welcome to Stardock.’

  Borric and Erland stepped forward, and awkwardly held out their hands to exchange a less formal hello with the man. While they were Princes born, used to some degree of deference and awe at their rank at times, here before them stood a man legends and tales had grown around. ‘Cousin Pug,’ Borric said, ‘thank you for receiving us.’

  The magician smiled and everyone relaxed. Though nearly forty-eight years old, he looked a man in his early thirties. Brown eyes almost shone with warmth and, despite his age, the dark beard couldn’t hide an expression that was almost boyish. This youthful face could not belong to the man reputed to be the single most powerful individual in the world.

  Erland and he quickly exchanged greetings, and James stepped forward. ‘Lord Pug …’ James began.

  ‘Just Pug, James.’ He smiled. ‘Around here we have little use for formal titles within our community. Despite King Lyam’s generous intentions in creating a tiny duchy out of Stardock and naming me its lord and master, we rarely think of such things.’ He took James by the arm. ‘Come; you remember my wife?’

  James and his companions bowed slightly and took the woman’s slender hand. Upon close inspection, James was surprised at how delicate the woman looked. He hadn’t seen her for over seven years, but she had been a robust, healthy woman in her early forties, with suntanned cheeks and raven dark hair. Now she looked ten years her husband’s senior. ‘My Lady,’ said James, bowing over her hand.

  The woman smiled and years vanished from her. ‘Just Katala, James. How is our son?’

  James grinned. ‘William is happy. He is Acting Captain of Arutha’s Guard. He is well thought of, and I expect will hold the office when Valdis steps down. He’s a fine officer and will rise high, perhaps even to Knight-Marshal someday.’

  Katala said, ‘And … otherwise?’

  James’s smile faded. ‘He pays court to several lovely ladies of the Princess’s retinue.’ For a brief instant Katala’s expression lightened. ‘But no one holds his interest, I’m afraid.’ Katala’s face turned sombre again. Nothing more need be said; Katala, Pug, and James remembered the young woman who had been very dear to William, a young woman lost in serving the Kingdom. Softly James said, ‘That wound doesn’t seem to heal, does it?’

  Pug said, ‘He should be here.’ Seeing his wife’s features darken, he said, ‘I know, dearest, we have put that argument to rest. Now,’ he said to the Princes, ‘may I present the others?’

  When Borric nodded, Pug said, ‘I think you boys will remember Kulgan, my old teacher. And Meecham, who oversees our community’s food stores and a thousand other tasks.’ The two men named both bowed, and Borric and Erland shook each hand in turn. The old magician who had been Pug’s teacher moved with difficulty, aided by a cane and the hand of the other man.

  Meecham, a powerful-looking man of advancing years, scolded the old magician like a nagging wife. ‘You should have stayed in your room …’

  Kulgan shook off the aiding hand as Erland moved to take Borric’s place before Pug’s old master. ‘I’m old, Meecham, not dying.’ The man’s hair was white as winter’s first snow, and the skin was lined and tanned like old leather. But the blue eyes were still bright and alert. ‘Your Highness,’ he said to Erland.

  The Prince smiled back. As boys they had delighted in Kulgan’s visits, for the old magician had entertained them with stories punctuated by small feats of magic. ‘Seems we’re informal, here. Uncle Kulgan. It’s good to see you again. It’s been too long.’

  The two younger men behind were unknown to James. Pug said, ‘These are leaders in our community and were among the first of those to come to Stardock to learn the Greater Magic. They are teachers of others, now. This is Korsh.’ The first man, tall and bald, bowed slightly to the Princes. His eyes shone brightly in contrast to his very dark skin, and gold earrings hung to his shoulders
.

  The second man looked nearly the twin of the first, save for a full black beard, oiled to ringlets which hung loosely from his cheeks. ‘And his brother, Watume.’

  Pug said, ‘You must all be tired from your journey.’ He glanced around. ‘I was expecting our daughter, Gamina, to join us, but she is helping to feed the children and I suppose she was detained. You’ll meet her soon enough.

  ‘Now, to your quarters. We have rooms for you in the Academy. You’ve missed supper, but we’ll have hot food delivered to your room. In the morning, we can visit.’

  The small company moved up the shoreline, to where they could see past the monstrous building that dominated the island. Fully forty stories tall at points, its central focus was a lofty spire that reached another hundred feet above the roof. It seemed little more than an un-railed stairway around a column, topped by a tiny platform. It was illuminated by an odd blue light which shone from below, so that it seemed to almost float upward, rather than be a thing of stone and mortar.

  ‘Everyone is struck by the sight of our Tower of Testing,’ Pug remarked. ‘That is where those of the Greater Path learn their first mastery, and leave their apprenticeship behind.’

  The two dark-skinned brothers cleared their throats in a meaningful way and Pug smiled. ‘Some of us have differing feelings as to how much “outsiders” should be allowed to know.’

  Rounding the shore, they saw a rather busy town at the other end of the building. Cleaner than its twin upon the shoreline, it was still its equal in activity. Despite the advancing hour, many people were in the streets upon one errand or another. ‘Stardock Town,’ said Katala, pride evident in her voice.

  Locklear said, ‘I thought the town upon the shore was Stardock Town.’

  Pug said, ‘So those who live there call it. But this is the true town upon the island of Stardock. This is where many of our brothers and sisters in magic live. Here is where their families abide. Here we have built a haven for those who have been driven from their communities by fear and hatred.’ Pug motioned for his guests to enter the main Academy building through a large double door and escorted them inside. At an intersection of two halls, most of the welcoming committee bid the guests good night, while Pug led the travellers down to a series of doors upon each side of a long hall. ‘We’re lacking in regal accommodations, I’m afraid,’ he said, ‘but these guest cells are warm, dry, and comfortable. You’ll find a basin for washing, and if you leave your dirty travel clothing outside, someone will see it is washed. The garderobe is at the far end of the hall. Now, rest well and we’ll have a long talk in the morning.’

  Pug bid them good night and the twins quickly found the food waiting for them in their cells. Up and down the hall the night was full of the noise of soldiers shedding travelling armour and arms, splashing water, and the clink of knives against serving plates. Soon all were gone from the hall, save a puzzled-looking Locklear standing next to James. ‘What ails you?’

  James shrugged. ‘Nothing, I guess. Tired, or …’ he let his voice trail off. He thought of Kulgan’s age and Katala’s less than healthy appearance. ‘It’s just that the years have not been kind to some fine people.’ Then his manner brightened, ‘Or it could be my youthful crimes coming back to haunt me. I’m just not comfortable with the idea of spending the night in any room referred to as a “cell”.’

  With a wry smile and a nod of agreement, Locklear bid his companion good night. A moment later, James stood alone in the long, empty hall. Something was not right. But he left that feeling for the next day. Now he needed food and a wash.

  With the sound of a bird chirping outside his window, James was awake. As was his habit, the young Baron of the Prince’s court rose before the sun. To his surprise, he discovered his clothing had been washed and folded and left just inside his door. A light sleeper by nature and quick to full wakefulness by training, he was discomforted that anyone could have opened his door and not disturbed him. James pulled on the clean tunic and trousers, foregoing the heavy travelling boots. Since childhood he had preferred bare feet, and over the years it had become something of a common joke among the palace staff that should one enter Baron James’s office, one was likely to find his boots removed and tucked away under his desk.

  He made his way to the outer doorway, moving soundlessly. He was certain that everyone else was still asleep, but his stealth was not born of consideration, it was habitual. As a boy in the Poor Quarter of the city, James had earned his livelihood as a thief, and moving without sound was second nature.

  Opening the outside door, he slipped through and closed it silently behind. The sky had already turned slate grey and the eastern horizon was showing the blush of the approaching sunrise. The only sounds were the calling of birds and the thud of a single axe falling, as someone cut wood for an early morning fire. James moved away from the huge building of the Academy and made his way along the path that led to the village.

  The sound of wood being cut fell away as that unknown farmer or fisherman’s wife finished the task. After a hundred yards, the path diverged, one part heading toward the village while a smaller path led toward the lakeshore. James decided he was in little mood for idle morning chatter with townspeople, so he moved toward the water.

  In the gloom he almost didn’t see the black-robed figure until he was nearly upon him. Pug turned and smiled. He pointed eastward. ‘This is my favourite part of the day.’

  James nodded. ‘I thought I’d be the first up.’

  Pug kept his eyes fastened upon the horizon. ‘No, I sleep very little.’

  ‘The wear doesn’t show. I don’t think you look a day older than when I last saw you seven years ago.’

  Pug nodded. ‘There are things about myself I am just discovering, James. When I took upon myself the mantel of Sorcerer…’ his voice trailed off. ‘We’ve never really talked, have we?’

  James shook his head. ‘We’ve had our share of interesting conversations, Pug, but not about anything profound, if that’s what you mean. Not anything that wasn’t related to the business of the state, is what I’m saying. It’s not exactly as if our paths cross frequently. We first met at Arutha and Anita’s wedding,’ he ticked off on his fingers as he spoke, ‘and again after the battle at Sethanon.’ Both men glanced at each other and nothing needed to be said between them about the cataclysmic battle that had taken place there. ‘Then twice since in Krondor.’ Neither spoke of the last two encounters, for not only had state secrets involving a secret society of assassins and then a mission to recover a stolen Ishapian artefact of critical importance, and dark magic been involved, but they had lost someone special to them both, a student of Pug’s who had become a close friend of James’s.

  Pug returned his attention to the east, where the first hot pink and orange of the sun’s rays struck the clouds. ‘When I was a boy I lived in Crydee. I was nothing more than a Far Coast peasant lad. I worked in the kitchen with my foster family and had ambitions to be a soldier.’ He fell silent.

  James waited. He had little desire to talk about his past, though it was well enough known to anyone of rank in the city of Krondor, and to everyone in the palace. ‘I was a thief.’

  ‘Jimmy the Hand,’ said Pug. ‘Yes, but what sort of boy were you?’

  James considered the question for a moment, then answered. ‘Brash. That’s the first word that comes to mind.’ He watched as the dawn unfolded. Neither man spoke for several minutes as each saw the fingers of light striking the clouds hanging in the east. The fiery rim of the disc of the sun began to appear. James said, ‘I … was also foolish at times. Remind me sometime to tell you the story about how I almost destroyed half the keep in Krondor when Guy du Bas-Tyra was Viceroy: one of my first lessons in why it’s wise to leave magic to magicians.’ James grinned, then his smile faded and at last he sighed. ‘I had no idea of there being any limit to what I could do. I have no doubt that had I continued that existence, I’d have finally taken one big chance too many. I’d most like
ly be dead by now.’

  ‘Brash,’ Pug repeated. ‘And foolish at times.’ He indicated with his head the Academy. Not unlike the royal twins.’

  James smiled. ‘Not unlike the Princes, though they lack any sense of true risk, I fear. I knew from my earliest days that any misstep could end my life. They are convinced they will live forever.’

  ‘What else?’

  James considered. Without false modesty, he said, ‘Brilliant, I suppose you could say, or gifted at least. Things often seemed obvious to me that confused many of those around me. At least the world seemed a more obvious place then. I’m not so sure I wasn’t a great deal smarter as a boy than I am now as a man.’

  Pug motioned that James should walk with him and started slow progress toward the water’s edge. ‘When I was a boy, my modest ambitions seemed the most splendid things. Now …’

  ‘You seem troubled,’ James ventured.

  ‘Not as you would understand it,’ Pug answered. James turned and in the grey light saw an unreadable expression on Pug’s face. ‘Tell me of the attempt upon Borric. You were closest to him.’

  James said, ‘News travels fast.’

  ‘It always does. And any coming conflict between the Kingdom and Kesh is of concern for us.’

  ‘Given your location, I can understand. You are a window upon the Empire.’ He gestured south, toward the not-distant border. James told Pug what he knew of the attempt, and finished by saying, ‘That the assassin was Keshian is hardly in doubt, but all those clues that point to the Royal House of Kesh being at the root of the attempt … it’s too clear. I think someone seeks to dupe us.’ He turned as they lost sight of the town, regarding the upper stories of the Academy. ‘You have many Keshians here?’

  Pug nodded. ‘And from Roldem, Queg, Olasko, Miskalon, the Peaks of the Quor, and other places. Here we pay little attention to matters of nation. We are concerned with other issues.’