Prince of the Blood, the King's Buccaneer

by Raymond E. Feist

  A slashing cut to the neck was barely blocked and Nicholas received a terrible glancing blow to the elbow. Almost blind from the pain, he countered and found his blade slamming into Render’s ribs. The other man gasped in pain and pulled back, and Nicholas felt his own fingers starting to go numb. He transferred his saber to his left hand, and blinked to clear his vision.

  Render stood gripping his ribs, and suddenly Nicholas could hear Amos’s voice shouting, ‘He’s open, lad! Kill him!’

  Nicholas held the blade awkwardly in his left hand, and Render’s vision seemed to clear. Despite the blood running down from his shoulder and from the wound in his side, he smiled. Nicholas tried to advance and again pain stabbed his left foot, which was now the lead. He retreated and Render leaped.

  Nicholas braced for the attack, swept Render’s blade to the side, and riposted, the point of his weapon taking the tattooed man in the pit of the stomach. Render’s eyes widened in disbelief as blood came gushing from his mouth and nose.

  For a moment his eyes looked into Nicholas’s, and instead of hatred or fear, there was a questioning look, as if he was asking the Prince, ‘Why?’ Then he collapsed.

  The men gathered around Nicholas and Amos said, ‘What happened to you?’

  Nicholas took a long moment to understand the question and his leg began to tremble. Suddenly it collapsed beneath him, and as he fell, Harry and Marcus grabbed him. Softly he said, ‘My foot …’

  He was carried to a nearby chair and sat down. He let Harry pull his left boot off, and when he saw his foot, he winced. It was discolored, purple and black. ‘Gods,’ said Harry. ‘It looks like a horse stepped on it.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Amos.

  Nakor shook his head and said nothing.

  After a moment the pain faded, and, before their eyes, the discoloration began to fade as well.

  Nicholas’s vision cleared and at last he said, ‘What did you say, Amos?’

  ‘I said, what’s wrong?’

  Nicholas said, ‘Oh, my arm?’ He looked at his arm and saw no blood. Pulling up the sleeve, he saw an angry red welt on the elbow, quickly darkening, but no sign of a cut or break.

  Harry said, ‘I’ve seen you practice for hours left-handed; why did you have so much trouble?’

  Nicholas said, ‘I don’t know. My foot …’

  Amos and the others from Crydee looked down and saw nothing wrong with either of Nicholas’s feet. ‘It’s changed!’ exclaimed Ghuda.

  Nicholas shook his head. His foot now looked normal. ‘It hurt. A sharp pain when I stepped on it, It got worse as the fight wore on.’

  ‘Does it hurt now?’ asked Nakor.

  Nicholas stepped upon it and said, ‘Only a little … It’s stopped hurting.’

  Nakor nodded again but didn’t say anything.

  Amos turned to the other captains and said, ‘Well, there’s your justice for you.’ To Marcus and Harry he said, ‘Take some of our boys and accompany the Sheriff,’ and to Patrick, ‘If you don’t mind?’

  ‘I don’t,’ said Patrick.

  Amos said to Marcus, ‘After you’ve rounded up Render’s crew, tell them that I’ll buy the freedom of any man who can tell us who took the girls from that island and where they were bound. Question them one at a time, because every one of those motherless dogs will lie to you.’

  Marcus nodded and he and Harry left.

  Amos turned to find Nicholas staring down at the lifeless body of Render. The boy’s face was ashen and he looked as if he might be sick. Clapping his hand upon Nicholas’s shoulder, Amos said, ‘Don’t worry, son. You’ll get used to it.’

  Nicholas’s eyes began to tear and he said, ‘I hope not.’ Ignoring the stares of those around him, he picked up his jacket and slowly walked to the stairs and up them, toward his room.

  Nicholas slept late the next day. The capture of Render’s crew had proved easier than expected. All of the men were aboard his ship, Lady of Darkness, waiting for orders to row over to the Raptor and take her. A few threats from the surrounding dozen longboats, and the promise to burn the boat to the water line if they didn’t give up their arms, was all it took. Amos had observed they were a less resolute lot than Kingdom sailors, because they sailed for booty. But it had been only five hours to dawn when they were done, and Nicholas was exhausted from the duel and the capture.

  The sound of footsteps hurrying up the stairs greeted him as he opened the door. Harry stood at the top of the stairs, breathless.

  ‘What is it?’ Nicholas asked his friend.

  ‘You’d better come.’ He hurried back down the stairs and Nicholas followed.

  Down in the large private room Amos was using as headquarters, they found him in conference with William Swallow and Patrick Duncastle.

  Amos looked up and said, ‘They’re dead.’

  ‘Who?’ asked Nicholas, fearful he was about to hear Margaret’s and Abigail’s names.

  ‘Render’s crew. They’re all dead.’

  Nicholas’s eyes narrowed as he attempted to take in the news. ‘All of them?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Patrick, his face a mask of barely controlled rage. ‘And a half dozen of my men as well. Someone poisoned the drinking water at the jail and killed everyone last night. I’ve lost five guards and a cook.’

  ‘No one lived?’

  ‘It was a nasty piece of business. Someone salted the food, so they all wanted water. We’re not a cruel bunch, so we gave them water. The jailers ate the same as the prisoners, and they’re all dead.’

  ‘There’s more,’ said Amos.

  Swallow said, ‘A dozen men have turned up dead here and there in the city.’

  ‘Probaby men who went on the raid,’ said Amos.

  ‘If we could find Peter Dread and his crew, I’d bet we’d find them at the bottom of the sea. And I think we’d find those six Tsurani assassins down there with them, as well. Someone’s covering tracks.’

  Nicholas said, ‘They’re all dead?’

  Amos nodded. ‘It’s easy enough to do if you’ve got religious fanatics willing to die. Poisoning a ship’s water is far easier than a jail’s. And I’ll warrant we’ll find another couple of dozen corpses around the town before nightfall. Not that I begrudge that fate to any of the dogs who raided the Far Coast, but I’d like to squeeze one or two for information.’

  Patrick said, ‘I’ll put the word on the street that anyone who went raiding with Render and Dread has a better chance to stay alive if they come forward.’

  ‘Don’t think it’ll do any good,’ said Amos, standing up. He scratched his head. ‘You’ve got a jail full of dead men to call that promise a lie.’

  ‘Dammit, Amos,’ said Patrick, ‘I’ll make sure no one we don’t know gets near anyone who gives himself up.’

  Amos shook his head. ‘And you claim I’ve been too long away from the dodgy path, Patrick. What would you do if you’d been on the raid? Same thing I would. You’d head for the hills and live off fruit and seabirds’ eggs as long as you could until you thought whatever wants you dead has left the island.

  Swallow’s eyes narrowed. ‘Whatever?’ His voice lowered. ‘Don’t you mean whoever, Amos?’

  Amos said, ‘You don’t want to know, William.’ Looking at Marcus and Harry, he said, ‘You know what to do?’

  Marcus nodded. ‘We’ve got to find that girl.’

  Marcus came awake with a sense he was not alone. Ghuda motioned for silence as he reached for his sword. Then a voice said, ‘I told you all you needed to do was ask around and I’d find you.’

  Brisa was sitting on the foot of Marcus’s bed, and he suddenly felt self-conscious. He quickly reached for his tunic and trousers. ‘What do you know of where the captives were taken?’

  Brisa studied Marcus as he struggled to dress while he sat in bed. With a cocked smile she said, ‘You’ve a nice body there, my glowering lad. What was your name again?’

  ‘Marcus,’ he answered brusquely.

  With a grin she sai
d, ‘You’re cute when you’re upset, did you know?’

  Marcus sat motionless for an instant, then he finished dressing under the covers. Ignoring her banter, he pushed back the covers and pulled on his boots. ‘What did you find out?’

  ‘The price?’

  ‘What do you want?’ he asked sourly.

  Feigning a pout, Brisa said, ‘I thought you liked me.’

  His patience at an end, Marcus reached out suddenly and gripped the girl’s thin arm. ‘I don’t even –’

  He found a dagger at his throat. He let go and the girl said, ‘That’s better. I don’t like being grabbed like that. If you’d given me half a chance, I’d probably have shown you how I like to be grabbed, but now that you’ve spoiled my mood, it’s going to take gold.’

  Then Brisa’s arm was seized in a vicelike grip and Ghuda was pulling the point away from Marcus’s throat. ‘Enough of the games, girl,’ said the old mercenary. ‘And don’t try pulling that other dagger from your boot. I’ll snap your arm before you can.’ He waited a moment, then released her.

  With a scowl, the girl said, ‘Very well. A thousand golden royals and I’ll give you what you want.’

  Marcus said, ‘What makes you think we’d pay that?’

  She gave him a black look as she said, ‘Because you will.’

  Marcus hesitated, then said, ‘Wait here.’

  He left, to return a few minutes later with Nicholas and Amos behind. ‘This girl claims to know what happened when the prisoners were taken from the island. She demands a thousand golden royals to tell us.’

  Amos quickly nodded. ‘You’ll have it. Now, where are they?’

  ‘The gold first.’

  Amos fumed, but said, ‘Very well.’ To the others he said, ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘Where?’ asked Nicholas.

  ‘To the ship.’ He nodded and Ghuda again held the girl in a firm grip.

  ‘Hey!’ she complained.

  ‘I don’t carry a thousand gold royals on my person, girl. They’re in my cabin. And I won’t harm you; you have my word on that. But if you’re lying, we’ll pitch you over the side and you can swim home.’

  Grumbling but not struggling, Brisa came along. Amos quickly roused the others of his crew in the inn and they all made their way to the docks. The majority of the crew were already aboard the Raptor and the rest came aboard with Amos.

  He moved to where his first mate, Rhodes, waited, and spoke quietly with him for a minute. Then he led the girl and Nicholas to his cabin. Marcus and the others waited on deck.

  Reaching the cabin, Amos entered and motioned for the girl to sit, and for Nicholas to stand before the door, blocking it. ‘Now, girl,’ he said, ‘where are the captives?’

  Brisa said, ‘My gold.’

  Amos went to a desk, behind which was a trap in the floor. He opened the trap and pulled a bag out of it. The sound of metal clinking came from the bag. He placed the heavy bag upon the desk and untied a leather thong. Drawing forth a handful of gold and showing them to the girl, he said, ‘There is the gold. Now tell us what you know.’

  ‘Give me the gold,’ demanded the girl.

  ‘You’ll have it when you tell us where the captives are.’

  Brisa hesitated, and for a moment Nicholas thought she was going to force an impasse, but at last she said, ‘All right. When I told your friend that I had followed some cut-throats to where they held your friends captive, I didn’t tell him everything.’

  She paused, and Amos said, ‘Go on.’

  ‘There was a ship anchored in deep water, far off the island. I’ve never see its like, and I’ve seen a lot of ships in Freeport in my day.’ She described the ship to Amos. ‘More than a score of boats were ferrying people from the island to the ship. I didn’t get too close, but I know they were taking everyone off that island.’

  ‘Where did they go?’

  ‘I didn’t stay around long enough to see that, but they had only one clear channel out of there, so they had to sail south until they were a couple of days away from here. That ship drew more water than this, so you’ll know what I’m talking about.’

  Amos nodded. ‘If it draws that much, the ship probably sailed a week south to be clear of the reefs between the islands.’

  Nicholas said, ‘So you didn’t see where it went. Why should we pay you the gold?’

  ‘Because two days ago a Keshian trader came in from Taroom. She’d been blown west a week by a squall and had turned northeast to come back to Freeport. A sailor off that ship told me that he was on lookout a couple of days before they reached Freeport and saw the biggest ship he’d ever seen, black like the night, sailing into the sunset.’

  ‘Sunset!’ said Amos. ‘That’s to the southwest this time of year.’

  ‘But Kesh lies to the east,’ commented Nicholas.

  ‘And the islands run due west of here,’ added Brisa.

  ‘There’s nothing out there,’ said Nicholas. ‘That’s the Endless Sea.’

  Amos said, ‘Your father once showed me some charts …’

  Nicholas said, ‘From Macros the Black! Those charts that show other continents!’

  Amos was silent a moment, then nodded. ‘Open the door.’

  Nicholas obeyed. Standing there was the first mate. Amos said, ‘Mr Rhodes, send word ashore I want the crew back as soon as possible. We catch the evening tide.’

  ‘Aye, Captain,’ he replied.

  The girl came out of her seat. ‘My gold!’ she demanded.

  ‘You’ll get it,’ answered Amos, ‘when we get back.’

  ‘Get back!’ she spat like an angry cat. ‘Who said I’d be willing to travel with you to the ends of the world?’

  Amos returned a grin as evil as Nicholas had ever seen it. ‘I did, girl. And if I find you’re sending us after phantoms, your swim home will be a lot longer than across the harbor.’

  The girl was up with her dagger out, but Nicholas was ready, and his sword knocked the blade from her hand. ‘Behave yourself,’ he said with the sword leveled at her for emphasis. ‘No one here will hurt you if you don’t cause trouble. But these people we seek are important to us, and if you’re lying it’ll go hard. Better tell the truth now.’

  The girl looked like a cornered rat and her eyes darted to every quarter, looking for an escape route. Seeing none, at last she said, ‘I’m not lying. The sailor had too many details about the ship right. It’s the same one. He was six hours south of Headers Reef, to the west of Three Fingers Island. Do you know it?’

  Amos nodded. ‘I know it.’

  ‘Take a bearing a hour before sunset, with the sun about five points to the starboard and you’ll be on a dead line with the black ship.’

  Amos nodded. ‘If your information is right, you’ll get your gold and more. Now I’ll have blankets put by for you in the rope locker. Stay away from my men, and if you cause trouble, I’ll lock you in the chain locker, which is far less comfortable. Understood?’

  The girl nodded sullenly. With a defiant toss of her chin, she said, ‘May I go now?’

  Amos stood. ‘Yes. And, Nicholas …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Stay close to her until we’re too far from land for her to swim home. If she makes a break for the rail, hit her over the head.’

  Nicholas smiled ruefully, and said, ‘I’ll be happy to.’

  The girl threw him a dark and angry glare as she left the cabin, a half-step ahead of him.

  • CHAPTER ELEVEN •

  Pursuit

  MARGARET SHUDDERED.

  Abigail asked, ‘What is it?’

  ‘That … odd sensation, again.’ Margaret closed her eyes.

  ‘What else? Tell me,’ demanded Abigail. For a month, once or twice a day, Margaret had been visited by a strange feeling. Sometimes she likened it to a chill; other times it was a tingling sensation over her entire body. It wasn’t painful or threatening but alien.

  ‘It’s closer,’ said Margaret.

  ‘What’s closer?�
��

  ‘Whatever’s making me feel this way.’ Margaret rose and crossed to the large window. They had been given a cabin in the aft of the ship, above the rudder house. It was not large, being one or two below the captain’s cabin, but it had the benefit of something larger than the tiny porthole in their first cabin. There was a divan at the foot of the two beds, their heads under the window, a small table between them. Meals were served by silent men who refused to engage in even the most meaningless banter. Twice a day they were taken up on deck, weather permitting, and allowed to take the sun and stretch their legs.

  The weather was changing, growing warmer. Margaret found this odd, given they were approaching early winter, but the crew seemed to think nothing of the balmy days. And the days were growing longer. Margaret had pondered these oddities aloud, but Abigail had been totally uninterested.

  Margaret climbed up on her bed and pushed open the small window. She could stick her head out and look down at the large rudder as the water swirled behind. The ability to keep the air in the cabin fresh was welcome after the days spent below in the hold of the smaller ships. She often wondered how the less fortunate prisoners were doing, for despite their having their own small bunks, there was no fresh air and little light in the slaver’s decks.

  The door opened and a familiar face appeared. Arjuna Svadjian bowed in his strange fashion, both hands pressed together, the steeple of his fingers before his face. ‘I trust you are well,’ he said, in what the girls now knew was a formal greeting.

  Margaret and Abigail had been visited each day by this man, and each day he had engaged them in what seemed pointless conversation. There was nothing menacing about his behavior or appearance; he was of medium height, he wore his beard closely trimmed, and his clothing was of expensive weave but plain cut. He looked the part of a prosperous businessman, and could even have passed for a trader from a distant port of Kesh, had he been traveling in the Kingdom.