Book 1 - Magician

by Raymond E. Feist

  “We will hold,” answered Arutha, his own voice sounding just as tired in his ears as Gardan’s.

  “Arutha?”

  Arutha saw Roland and Amos coming up the stairs, with another man behind. “What now?” asked the Prince.

  Roland said, “We can see no activity on the other walls, but there is something here you should see.”

  Arutha recognized the other man, Lewis, the castle’s Rathunter. It was his responsibility to keep vermin from the keep. He tenderly held something in his hands.

  Arutha looked closely: it was a ferret, twitching slightly in the firelight. “Highness,” said Lewis, his voice thick with emotion, “it’s—”

  “What, man?” said Arutha impatiently. With attack about to begin, he had little time to mourn a lost pet.

  Roland spoke, for Lewis was obviously overcome at the loss of his ferret. “The Rathunter’s ferrets didn’t return two days ago. This one crawled into the storage room behind the kitchen sometime since Lewis found it there a few minutes ago.”

  In choked tones, Lewis said, “They’re all well trained, sire. If they didn’t come back, it’s because something kept them from returnin’. This poor lad’s been stepped on. His back’s broken. He must’ve crawled for hours to get back.”

  Arutha said, “I fail to see the significance of this.”

  Roland gripped the Prince’s arm. “Arutha, he hunts them in the rat tunnels under the castle.”

  Comprehension dawned upon Arutha. He turned to Gardan and said, “Sappers! The Tsurani must be digging under the east wall.”

  Gardan said, “That would explain the constant attacks upon the west wall—to draw us away.”

  Arutha said, “Gardan, take command of the walls. Amos, Roland, come with me.”

  Arutha ran down the steps and through the courtyard. He shouted for a group of soldiers to follow and bring shovels. They reached the small courtyard behind the keep, and Arutha said, “We’ve got to find that tunnel and collapse it.”

  Amos said, “Your walls are slanted outward at the plinth. They’ll recognize they can’t fire the timbers of the tunnels to bring it down to make a breach. They’ll be trying to get a force inside the castle grounds or into the keep.”

  Roland looked alarmed. “Carline! She and the other ladies are in the cellars.”

  Arutha said, “Take some men and go to the cellars.” Roland ran off. Arutha fell to his knees and placed his ear on the ground. The others followed his example, moving around, listening for sounds of digging from below.

  Carline sat nervously next to the Lady Marna. The fat former governess made a show of calmly attending to her needlepoint despite the rustling and stirring of the other women in the cellar. The sounds of battle from the walls came to them as faint, distant echoes, muted by the thick walls of the keep. Now there was an equally unnerving quiet.

  “Oh! To be sitting here like a caged bird,” said Carline.

  “The walls are no place for a lady,” came the retort from Lady Marna.

  Carline stood. As she paced the room, she said, “I can tie bandages and carry water. All of us could.”

  The other ladies of the court looked at one another as if the Princess had been bereft of her senses. None of them could imagine subjecting herself to such a trial.

  “Highness, please,” said Lady Mama, “you should wait quietly. There will be much to do when the battle’s over. Now you should rest.”

  Carline began a retort, then stopped. She held up her hand. “Do you hear something?”

  The others stopped their movement, and all listened. From the floor came a faint tapping sound. Carline knelt upon the flagstone. “My lady, this is most unseemly,” began the Lady Marna.

  Carline stopped the complaint with an imperious wave of her hand “Quiet!” She placed her ear upon the flagstones. “There is something . . .”

  Lady Glynis shuddered. “Probably rats scurrying about. There are hundreds of them down here.” Her expression showed this revelation was about as unpleasant a fact as imaginable.

  “Be quiet!” ordered Carline.

  There came a cracking sound from the floor, and Carline leaped to her feet. Her sword came out of its scabbard as a fracture appeared in the stones of the floor. A chisel point broke through the flagstone, and suddenly the upturned stone was pushed up and outward.

  Ladies screamed as a hole appeared in the floor. A startled face popped into the light, then a Tsurani warrior, hair filthy from the dirt of the tunnel, tried to scramble upward Carline’s sword took him in the throat as she shouted, “Get out! Call the guards!”

  Most of the women sat frozen in terror, refusing to move. Lady Marna heaved her massive bulk from the bench upon which she sat and gave a shrieking town girl a backhanded slap. The girl looked at Lady Marna with wide-eyed fright for an instant, then broke toward the steps. As if at a signal, the others ran after, screaming for help.

  Carline watched as the Tsurani slowly fell back, blocking the hole in the floor. Other cracks appeared around the hole, and hands pulled pieces of flagstone downward into the ever-widening entrance. Lady Marna was halfway to the steps when she saw Carline standing her ground. “Princess!” she shrieked.

  Another man came scrambling upward, and Carline delivered a death blow to him. She was then forced back as the stones near her feet collapsed. The Tsurani had terminated their tunnel in a wide hole and were now broadening the entrance, pulling down stones so that they could swarm out, overwhelming any defenders.

  A man fought upward, pushing Carline to one side, allowing another to start his climb upward Lady Mama ran back to her former ward and grabbed up a large piece of loose stone, which she brought crashing down on the unhelmeted skull of the second man. Grunts and strange-sounding words came from the tunnel mouth as the man fell back upon those behind.

  Carline ran the other man through and kicked another in the face. “Princess!” cried Lady Marna. “We must flee!”

  Carline didn’t answer. She dodged a blow at her feet delivered by a Tsurani who then sprang nimbly out of the hole. Carline thrust and the man dodged. Another came scrambling out of the hole, and the Lady Marna shrieked.

  The first man turned reflexively at the sound, and Carline drove her sword into his side. The second man raised a serrated sword to strike Lady Marna, and Carline sprang for him, thrusting her sword point into his neck. The man shuddered and fell, his fingers releasing their grip on the sword Carline grabbed Lady Marna’s arm and propelled her toward the steps.

  Tsurani came swarming out of the hole, and Carline turned at the bottom of the stairs Lady Marna stood behind her beloved Princess, not willing to leave. The Tsurani approached wanly. The girl had killed enough of their companions to warrant their respect and caution.

  Suddenly a body crashed past the girl as Roland charged into the Tsurani, soldiers of the keep hurrying behind. The young Squire was in a frenzy to protect the Princess, and he boiled over three Tsurani in his rush. They tumbled backward, disappearing into the hole, Roland with them.

  As the Squire vanished from view, Carline screamed, “Roland!” Other guards leaped past the Princess to engage the Tsurani who still stood in the cellar, and more jumped boldly into the hole. Grunts and cries, shouts and oaths rang from the tunnel.

  A guard took Carline by the arm and began to drag her up the stairs. She followed, helpless in the man’s strong grip, crying, “Roland!”

  Grunts of exertion filled the dark tunnel as the soldiers from Crydee dug furiously. Arutha had found the Tsurani tunnel and had ordered a shaft sunk near it. They were now digging a countertunnel to intercept the Tsurani, near the wall. Amos had agreed with Arutha’s judgment that they needed to force the Tsurani back beyond the wall before collapsing the tunnel, denying them any access to the castle.

  A shovel broke through, and men began frantically clearing away enough dirt to allow passage into the Tsurani tunnel. Boards were hastily jammed into place, jerry-rigged supports, preventing the earth above from cavi
ng in on them.

  The men from Crydee surged into the low tunnel and entered a frantic, terrible melee. Tsurani warriors and Roland’s squad of soldiers were locked in a desperate hand-to-hand struggle in the dark. Men fought and died in the gloom under the earth. It was impossible to bring order to the fray, with the fighting in such confinement. An overturned lantern flickered faintly, providing little illumination.

  Arutha said to a soldier behind, “Get more men!”

  “At once, Highness!” answered the soldier, turning toward the shaft.

  Arutha entered the Tsurani tunnel. It was only five feet high, so he moved stooped over. It was fairly wide, with enough room for three men to negotiate closely. Arutha stepped on something soft, which groaned in pain. He continued past the dying man, toward the sound of fighting.

  It was a scene from his worst nightmare, faintly lit by widely spaced torches. With little room only the first three men could engage the enemy at any one point. Arutha called out, “Knives!” and dropped his rapier. In close quarters the shorter weapons would prove more effective.

  He came upon two men struggling in the darkness and grabbed at one. His hand closed on chitinous armor, and he plunged his knife into the man’s exposed neck. Jerking the now lifeless body off the other man, he saw a jam of bodies a few feet away, where Crydee and Tsurani soldiers pressed against one another. Curses and cries filled the tunnel, and the damp earth smell was mixed with the odor of blood and excrement.

  Arutha fought madly, blindly, lashing out at barely seen foes. His own fear kept threatening to overcome him as primitive awareness cried for him to quit the tunnel and the threatening earth above. He forced his panic down and continued to lead the attack on the sappers.

  A familiar voice grunted and cursed at his side, and Arutha knew Amos Trask was near. “Another thirty feet, lad!” he shouted.

  Arutha took the man at his word, having lost all sense of distance. The men of Crydee pressed onward, and many died killing the resisting Tsurani. Time became a blur and the fight a dim montage of images.

  Abruptly Amos shouted, “Straw!” and bundles of dry straw were passed forward “Torches!” he cried, and flaming torches were passed up. He piled the straw near a latticework of timbers and drove the torch into the pile. Flames burst upward, and he yelled, “Clear the tunnel!”

  The fighting stopped. Every man, whether of Crydee or Tsurani, turned and fled the flames. The sappers knew the tunnel was lost without means to quench the flames and scrambled for their lives.

  Choking smoke filled the tunnel, and men began to cough as they cleared the cramped quarters. Arutha followed Amos, and they missed the turn to the countertunnel, coming out in the cellar. Guardsmen, dirty and bloody, were collapsing on the stones of the cellar, gasping for air. A dull rumble sounded, and with a crash, a blast of air and smoke blew out of the hole. Amos grinned, his face streaked with dirt. “The timbers collapsed. The tunnel’s sealed.”

  Arutha nodded dumbly, exhausted and still reeling from the smoke. A cup of water was handed to him, and he drank deeply, soothing his burning throat.

  Carline appeared before him. “Are you all right?” she asked, concern on her face. He nodded. She looked around. “Where’s Roland?”

  Arutha shook his head. “It was impossible to see down there. Was he in the tunnel?”

  She bit her lower lip. Tears welled up in her blue eyes as she nodded Arutha said, “He might have cleared the tunnel and come up in the courtyard. Let us see.”

  He got to his feet, and Amos and Carline followed him up the stairs. They left the keep, and a soldier informed him the attack on the wall had been repulsed. Arutha acknowledged the report and continued around the keep until they came to the shaft he had ordered dug Soldiers lay on the grass of the yard, coughing and spitting, trying to clear their lungs of the burning smoke. The air hung heavy with an acrid haze as fumes from the fire continued to billow from the shaft. Another rumble sounded, and Arutha could feel it through the soles of his boots. Near the wall a depression had appeared where the tunnel had fallen below. “Squire Roland!” Arutha shouted.

  “Here, Highness,” came an answering shout from a soldier.

  Carline dashed past Arutha and reached Roland before the Prince. The Squire lay upon the ground, tended by the soldier who answered. His eyes were closed and his skin pale, and blood seeped from his side. The soldier said, “I had to drag him along the last few yards, Highness. He was out on his feet. I thought it might be smoke until I saw the wound.”

  Carline cradled Roland’s head, while Arutha first cut the binding straps of Roland’s breastplate, then tore away the undertunic. After a moment Arutha sat back upon his heels. “It’s a shallow wound He’ll be all right.”

  “Oh, Roland,” Carline said softly.

  Roland’s eyes opened and he grinned weakly. His voice was tired, but he forced a cheery note. “What’s this? You’d think I’d been killed.”

  Carline said, “You heartless monster.” She gently shook him but didn’t release her hold as she smiled down at him. “Playing tricks at a time like this!”

  He winced as he tried to move. “Ooh, that hurts.” She placed a restraining hand upon his shoulder.

  “Don’t try to move. We must bind the wound,” she said, caught between relief and anger.

  Nestling his head into her lap, he smiled. “I’d not move for half your father’s Duchy.”

  She looked at him in irritation. “What were you doing throwing yourself upon the enemy like that?”

  Roland looked genuinely embarrassed. “In truth, I tripped coming down the steps and couldn’t stop myself.”

  She placed her cheek against his forehead as Arutha and Amos laughed. “You are a liar. And I do love you,” she said softly.

  Arutha stood and took Amos in tow, leaving Roland and Carline to each other. Reaching the corner, they encountered the former Tsurani slave, Charles, carrying water for the wounded. Arutha halted the man.

  He stood with a yoke across his shoulders holding two large water buckets. He was bleeding from several small wounds and was covered with mire. Arutha said, “What happened to you?”

  With a broad smile, Charles said, “Good fight. Jump in hole. Charles good warrior.”

  The former Tsurani slave was pale and weaved a little as he stood there. Arutha remained speechless, then indicated he should continue his work. Happily Charles hurried along. Arutha said to Amos, “What do you make of that?”

  Amos chuckled. “I’ve had many dealings with rogues and scoundrels, Highness. I know little of these Tsurani, but I think that’s a man to count on.”

  Arutha watched as Charles dispensed water to the other soldiers, ignoring his own wounds and fatigue. “That was no mean thing, jumping into the shaft without orders. I’ll have to consider Longbow’s offer to put that man in service.”

  They continued on their way, Arutha supervising the care of the wounded, while Amos was put in charge of the final destruction of the tunnel.

  When dawn came, the courtyard was still, and only a patch of raw earth, where the shaft had been filled in, and a long depression running from the keep to the outer wall showed anything unusual had occurred in the night.

  Fannon hobbled along the wall, favoring his right side. The wound to his back was almost healed, but he was still unable to walk without aid. Father Tully supported the Swordmaster as they came to where the others waited.

  Arutha gave the Swordmaster a smile and gently took him by the other arm, helping Tully hold him. Gardan, Amos Trask, Martin Longbow, and a group of soldiers stood nearby.

  “What’s this?” asked Fannon, his display of gruff anger a welcome sight to those on the wall. “Have you so little wits among you that you must haul me from my rest to take charge?”

  Arutha pointed out to sea. On the horizon dozens of small flecks could be seen against the blue of sea and sky, flashes of brilliant white glinting as the morning sun was caught and reflected back to them. “The fleet from Carse and
Tulan approaches the south beaches.”

  He indicated the Tsurani camp in the distance, bustling with activity. “Today we’ll drive them out. By this time tomorrow we’ll clear this entire area of the aliens. We’ll harry them eastward, allowing them no respite. It will be a long time before they’ll come in strength again.”

  Quietly Fannon said, “I trust you are right, Arutha.” He stood without speaking for a time, then said, “I have heard reports of your command, Arutha. You’ve done well. You are a credit to your father, and to Crydee.”

  Finding himself moved by the Swordmaster’s praise, Arutha tried to make light, but Fannon interrupted. “No, you have done all that was needed, and more. You were right. With these people we must not be cautious. We must carry the struggle to them.” He sighed. “I am an old man, Arutha. It is time I retired and left warfare to the young.”

  Tully made a derisive noise. “You’re not old. I was already a priest when you were still in swaddling.”

  Fannon laughed with the others at the obvious untruth of the statement, and Arutha said, “You must know, if I’ve done well, it is because of your teachings.”

  Tully gripped Fannon’s elbow. “You may not be an old man, but you are a sick one. Back to the keep with you. You’ve had enough gadding about. You can begin walking regularly tomorrow. In a few weeks you’ll be charging about, shouting orders at everyone like your old self.”

  Fannon managed a slight smile and allowed Tully to lead him back down the stairs. When he was gone, Gardan said, “The Swordmaster’s right, Highness. You’ve done your father proud.”

  Arutha watched the approaching ships, his angular features fixed in an expression of quiet reflection. Softly he said, “If I have done well, it is because I have had the aid of good men, many no longer with us.” He took a deep breath, then continued, “You have played a great part in our withstanding this siege, Gardan, and you, Martin.”