Prince of the Blood, the King's Buccaneer

by Raymond E. Feist

  He paused as they moved aside to let a wagon full of slaves drive past. Nicholas scanned the faces of those in the wagon on the off chance he might recognize someone. The slaves kept their eyes down and their expressions placid, as if they knew their lives were forever under the control of others.

  Nicholas watched after the wagon a moment, then said, ‘Thank you. I guess that if I play the part well enough, it’s of little consequence how I feel about it.’

  Calis smiled slightly. ‘You’re a great deal like your uncle Martin; he ponders things. It’s ironic, but you’re probably more like him in many regards than Marcus.’

  Nicholas smiled slightly. ‘That would be ironic.’

  They spent a half hour wandering through the bazaar, dazzled by the astonishing assortment of merchandise offered, until they found themselves near the plaza at the center. There they were assailed by beggars asking for gifts in exchange for blessings, and curses followed after them when they turned a deaf ear. Fortune-tellers offered to read their future in cards, bones, or smoke, and they, too, were ignored.

  As they circled the plaza, they came to another quarter of the bazaar that was drawing a large crowd. They worked their way through the crowd to find a large platform erected halfway between the plaza and the wall of the Overlord’s palace. The crowd spread out to about a dozen yards from the wall, then left a clearing. Glancing up, Nicholas saw cages hanging from the wall. In the cages were bodies, a pair of skeletons, and one man who moved feebly. Calis followed his gaze and said, ‘Death by exposure is the local choice, I see.’

  ‘And a clear message to everyone in the city: don’t cause trouble,’ said Nicholas. He turned his back and looked at those upon the platform.

  An auctioneer was offering slaves for inspection. Nicholas glanced from face to face, half hoping, half fearing to see someone he recognized from Crydee, but after a few minutes he decided these wretched were natives of the city. A few young girls brought spirited bidding, as did one particularly strong-looking man of middle years, but the rest of the slaves were either too old or too young to be of profit.

  Disgusted with the entire proceedings, Nicholas said, ‘Come along. Let’s return to the hostel.’

  They made their way back to the north side of the bazaar, and half-way to the hostel, they saw people clearing the way for an advancing company of men. A boy beat a drum at the van, while behind him marched a man carrying a pole. Upon the top of the pole two ropes descended to the ends of a rod, from which hung a banner, a long piece of grey cloth on which a red hawk stooping over its prey was sewn. Nicholas and Calis stepped aside to allow them to pass and watched as two hundred armed men strode by. As they moved away, Nicholas turned to a man following after them and said, ‘Who was that?’

  ‘Captain Haji’s Redhawks.’ The man looked at Nicholas as if he was crazy to have asked, and hurried along.

  Nicholas said, ‘I guess Tuka wasn’t exaggerating about the need to announce ourselves.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Calis, ‘when we know what it is we wish to have known about us.’

  ‘Good point.’

  They returned to the hostel and found that Marcus and Amos had returned. Nicholas sat at the table with them, while Calis went to his room. ‘That was quick,’ said Nicholas. ‘Did you find a ship?’

  Amos lowered his voice, so Keeler, who was tending bar, couldn’t overhear. ‘There are any number of ships that will do, now we know how long the voyage takes, but there are two Kingdom ships in the harbor.’

  ‘What?’ said Nicholas.

  Marcus said, ‘And one of them is the Raptor.’

  Nicholas stood on the end of the quay and stared in open-mouthed amazement.

  Amos said, ‘Close it, or you’ll start to catch flies.’

  ‘How is this possible?’

  Amos said, ‘Look closely. She’s not really how we turned her out. There are some slight differences. And I’d never rig her quite that loose, even at anchor. Sudden wind, and you’ll lose a spar. And some of the shrouds and sheets are not right. She’s a copy of the Royal Eagle, and someone’s tried to turn her into the Raptor.’ He then pointed to the other ship, slightly smaller, but otherwise the twin of the first. ‘That’s either an exact copy of the Royal Gull, or the real one.’

  ‘I thought the real one sank off the Keshian coast in a storm two years ago,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘That’s what I thought, but maybe not.’

  Nicholas nodded. ‘That still doesn’t answer the big question.’

  Amos said, ‘Yes. Why are they here?’

  The three of them said nothing more as they walked back to the hostel.

  Back there, Nicholas asked several of the men if they had seen Nakor. All of them answered no; the little man had vanished shortly after the company had arrived.

  Nicholas decided to return to the room he had secured for himself, to rest awhile and ponder the mystery of those two ships in the harbor. As he passed the door to the Ranjana’s quarters, a shriek caused him to halt.

  As he reached for the door, it opened and a frightened maid said, ‘Master. Please.’

  Nicholas entered the room to find the other three maids all cowering in the corner while the Ranjana picked up a brush from the table she used as a vanity and threw it at them. ‘I will not stay here a minute longer!’ she shouted.

  Nicholas said, ‘Lady –’

  Before another word could come out of his mouth, he was ducking a wicked-looking hair comb, three tines of gold, but sharp enough to cause harm. He stepped forward and grabbed the girl by one wrist, which proved a tactical mistake, as he then felt her other hand hard across his face. Grabbing the free hand, he shouted, ‘Stop this, lady!’

  She began kicking him in the shins, and he shoved her away with enough force to cause her to sit hard on the floor. Pointing his finger at her, he said, ‘That will be enough!’

  She was up and at him again, and he pushed her back hard on the floor. The second time she hit the hardwood, her eyes widened in astonishment. ‘You dare lay hands upon me!’

  ‘I’ll do more than that if you don’t tell me what this ruckus is about,’ said Nicholas, his voice harsh.

  ‘I demand to be taken at once to the palace,’ said the Ranjana. ‘I spoke to one of your men, and he had the temerity to tell me to wait until you’d returned.’ She stood up. ‘I want him hung. Now, take me to the palace.’

  ‘There’s a problem with that,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘Problem!’ shrieked the girl. She formed claws with her fingernails and came at Nicholas. He grabbed her wrists again and said, ‘Will you stop!’ The girl continued to struggle, clearly intent on removing his eyes from his head. At last he pushed her back even harder than before, so that when she hit the floor she slid backward until she struck the wall.

  Before she could move, he advanced to stand over her. ‘Don’t get up!’ he warned. ‘Just sit there and listen, or I will have you tied up!’

  She sat, but her expression was defiant. ‘Why won’t you take me to the palace?’

  Nicholas sighed. ‘I was hoping to avoid this, but I guess you must know. I’m not taking you to the palace because it appears that the man responsible for the attack upon you was the Overlord himself.’

  ‘That’s impossible. I am to wed the Overlord on the next Summer’s End Night.’

  Nicholas saw that the fight had gone out of her, and leaned over to offer his hand. She slapped it away and stood up without help. As he watched her stand with a dancer’s grace, Nicholas was forced to admit that Brisa wasn’t entirely wrong. Given her choice of fashion, skimpy tops and light skirts, leaving her midriff bare, her body was displayed to good advantage, and it was an exceptionally nice body. But her mood was as ugly as the rest of her was lovely. ‘You’re lying,’ she said. ‘You want to hold me for ransom.’

  Nicholas sighed. ‘If that were true, I’d simply lock the door and put a guard outside your window. No, if we discover that the Overlord is the man who tried to have you
killed, we’ll arrange for you to travel back to your father –’

  ‘No,’ interrupted the Ranjana. There was genuine panic in her voice.

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. My father would kill me.’

  Nicholas said, ‘Why would he do that?’

  ‘My father the Raj has thirty-nine wives. I am the youngest daughter of his seventeenth wife.’ She lowered her eyes and said, ‘My only value to him is to be married to an ally. If I return, he will be enraged and order me beheaded. I would be of no further value, for to send me to another ally for marriage after offering me to the Overlord would be an insult.’

  ‘Well, maybe the Overlord didn’t have anything to do with the attack, and if not, we’ll get you to the palace.’

  Nicholas was confused by all this, for the girl suddenly looked vulnerable and afraid, and his feelings were churning unexpectedly. Feeling irritation at this sudden attack of concern, he said, ‘I’ll do what I can.’ He turned and quickly left the room. Finding himself in the hall with no idea what he had been doing before he had entered the girl’s room, he returned to the common room to wait for Harry and Brisa.

  By two hours after sundown the common room was crowded with both Nicholas’s company and strangers. He had selected a table for himself and his companions nearest the hall leading to the sleeping rooms. Harry, Anthony, and Brisa still hadn’t returned, and no one had caught sight of Nakor since before they had reached the hostel. Nicholas was beginning to worry.

  Twice mercenaries had approached to ask if there was room for new recruits in Nicholas’s company. He was noncommittal and said it depended on a possible contract and they should come back in a few days.

  The food provided was filling and hot, if not especially tasty, and the wine was above average, which suited everyone in the company; it was a great improvement over the beans and bread they had eaten every night on the boats, along with a cold piece of salted pork. As they were eating, Harry, Anthony, and Brisa at last returned.

  They sat down and Nicholas said, ‘What kept you so long?’

  Harry smiled. ‘It’s a big city.’

  ‘Did you have to see all of it in one day?’ asked Amos with a grin.

  Harry said, ‘We didn’t see a tenth, but we did find out some interesting things, or more to the point, Anthony and Brisa did.’

  Anthony said, ‘I’ve found a man selling magic charms down by the docks. He’s a fraud, of course, and his trinkets are useless, but he did let loose with some gossip about the Overlord and his Grand Adviser.’

  Nicholas leaned forward as Anthony’s voice dropped. ‘Praji wasn’t joking about the ban on magic. One of the things the trinket seller told me is there’s a ward on the city that alerts this Dahakon if anyone uses magic within the walls of the city. At least, that’s the rumor. He claimed a special property of the trinkets was their ability to work without alerting the Adviser.’ Anthony shook his head. ‘Anyone want this?’ he said, taking a strange-looking fetish out of his pocket. It was a man with a giant penis. ‘It’s supposed to make one irresistible to women.’ He blushed as Brisa laughed, her hand over her mouth.

  ‘Anthony, I must have you,’ she said jokingly.

  Nicholas wasn’t amused. ‘Put that away. What that means is you can’t use your powers to find the girls.’

  ‘Girls?’ said Harry.

  ‘The prisoners,’ said Anthony. His blush continued. ‘I have been able to locate Margaret and Abigail,’ he said.

  Nicholas knew he was stretching the truth a bit because of Harry’s interest in Margaret, but thought that was a pretty trivial consideration now. He said, ‘What else did you find out?’

  Brisa said, ‘There’s something like an organization of thieves around. You’re from Krondor, so you’ve heard of the Mockers.’

  Nicholas nodded.

  Brisa said, ‘It’s something like that, but I have a feeling from what we’ve seen that it’s a lot less efficient and probably less powerful.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Nicholas.

  ‘I’ve never seen so many armed men in a square mile in my life, not even in Freeport, and half of them belong to one clan or another or to the Overlord.’

  Harry said, ‘She’s right, Nicky. There are soldiers everywhere, and everyone has a bodyguard or guards on his house or mercenaries. It’s like Ghuda said, it’s an armed camp here.’

  Nicholas considered. Krondor had its number of private guards and mercenaries working for merchants and nobles, but most citizens went unarmed in all but the Poor Quarter or the docks at night, for the city watch and the Prince’s garrison kept the peace and kept the Mockers somewhat under control. Also, he had learned from his father that the guild of thieves liked things orderly, for any martial law crimped their business severely.

  Nicholas asked, ‘Did you find out anything in the slave market?’

  ‘Not enough to talk about,’ said Harry. ‘It was difficult. If you weren’t buying, you were looked on with suspicion. One thing, the wall behind the slave market is marked off by a white line a dozen yards away from it. Did you see that?’

  Nicholas said, ‘Calis and I wandered over that way, but I didn’t notice it.’

  Harry said, ‘It’s a deadline.’

  Nicholas nodded. He knew that meant there were archers on the walls or soldiers in the market with orders to kill anyone who crossed the line. ‘The Overlord doesn’t want anyone freeing the condemned,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘Or he doesn’t want unexpected visitors,’ offered Brisa.

  Amos said, ‘If you ran this city of cut-throats, would you?’

  Nicholas said, ‘If I ran it, it would run differently.’

  Amos laughed. ‘You’re not the first to think that before taking the job. Ask your father sometime about the deals he made with the Mockers early on in his reign.’

  Nicholas asked Brisa, ‘Do you think you can make contact with the local thieves?’

  ‘It might take a couple of days,’ she answered. ‘There’s a hunted-dog look about half the people here.’ She lowered her voice even more. ‘My guess is you’ve got a half-dozen informants and spies in this room already. There’s not a lot of trust in this city.’

  Nicholas said, ‘Well, eat, drink, be merry …’ He let the old saying go without finishing it.

  Margaret awoke with a start, her heart pounding. Something caused her to turn slowly toward the other bed. A figure loomed over her in the darkness of the room. Blinking, she strained to make out the figure in the gloom.

  When she sat up, her sudden movement startled the figure, which pulled back. She reached for a shuttered lamp, which was kept burning low at night, and opened the shutter. Sitting on the floor next to the bed was one of the two lizard creatures. It shielded its dark eyes against the light and scuttled backward, making soft sounds.

  Margaret froze, her mouth open as she drew in a gasp of fear. The creature had spoken a word, softly. It had said, ‘No.’ But what terrified Margaret was the sound: it was nothing alien or inhuman. The voice had belonged to a human woman. The voice sounded like her own.

  • CHAPTER EIGHTEEN •

  Secrets

  NICHOLAS LOOKED UP.

  Coming across the room was the wagon driver, Tuka, and a florid-faced, puffing man of imposing girth, dressed in a riot of colors: a yellow overtunic, a plaid shirt, red trousers, a green sash, and a purple hat in the fashion of the area, with a wide brim rolled up on either side to hug the crown.

  Ghuda asked, ‘Harry, did someone steal your clothes last night?’

  Harry yawned, not being quite awake after having drunk an unusual amount of ale for him. ‘Looks like it,’ said the Squire from Ludland. ‘Mine were in better taste, though.’

  Ghuda and Amos refrained from comment, watching the strange pair as they approached.

  ‘Encosi,’ said Tuka, ‘with humility I am presenting Anward Nogosh Pata, my master’s representative in the city.’

  Without leave, the man sat at the only remaining chair at Nicho
las’s table and whispered, ‘Is it true?’

  ‘Is what true?’ responded Harry.

  Nicholas waved away Harry’s question and said, ‘Yes. We have the girl.’

  The man blew out his cheeks as he exhaled and drummed his fingers upon the table. ‘I’ve known Tuka for years, and while he’s no more reliable than any other driver, he’s not intelligent enough to fabricate such a wicked tale of betrayal and murder by himself.’ Leaning across the table, he lowered his voice even more. ‘What do you mean to do? Ransom? Reward?’

  Nicholas frowned. ‘What would you have me do?’ he asked.

  The man resumed his finger-drumming on the table. ‘I’m uncertain. If my master falls prey to some plot to create friction between the clans – many of whom have strong ties to important trading houses here and in other cities – few of those clansmen may be inclined to remember that my master was merely a dupe in some larger plot.’ He made a wide gesture with his hands while he shrugged. ‘And truth to tell, my master would be less than pleased to be named a dupe – for all his more excellent qualities, he is not without his vanity – and the effect such an appellation would have upon his trade could not be considered salubrious.’

  Nicholas said, ‘There are matters of concern to my men and me that might have some impact upon this matter.’

  ‘You propose?’ asked Anward.

  ‘To do nothing for a few days,’ answered Nicholas. ‘We’ve surmised that if the Overlord’s hand is in this series of attacks and murder, the girl’s life is worthless in the palace, but if she’s the prize in a game we don’t understand, that may be the safest place in the world for her. Let me ask you something: what would your master’s reaction be to sending her back?’

  ‘He would not be pleased, but that displeasure would be for the failure of the undertaking, and if the undertaking was doomed from the outset because of duplicity, he would be disinclined to place blame needlessly.’

  ‘Would the girl’s father punish her?’

  ‘Her father has many daughters, it’s true, but he values all of them. No, he wouldn’t harm her. Why do you ask?’