Magician: Master

by Raymond Feist

  A look of suspicion crossed Tomas’s face. “You ask much for one unwilling to give more.”

  Macros stood tall, holding his staff to one side, like a ruler his scepter.

  His dark eyes narrowed, and his brows met over his hooked nose. His voice stayed soft, but his words were hot with anger. Even Tomas felt something akin to awe in his presence.

  “More!” he said, biting off the word. “I gave you all, Valheru! You are here by dint of my actions over many years. More of my life than you will know has been given to preparing for your coming. Had I not bested, then befriended Rhuagh, you would never have survived in the mines of Mac Mordain Cadal. It was I who prepared the armor and sword of Ashen-Shugar, leaving them with the Hammer of Tholin and my gift to the dragon, so that centuries later you would discover them. It was I who set your feet upon the path, Tomas. Had I not come to aid you, years past, Elvandar would now be ashes. Do you think Tathar and the other Spellweavers of Elvandar were the only ones to work on your behalf? Without my aid over these last nine years, you would have been destroyed utterly by the dragon’s gifts. No mere human could have withstood such ancient and powerful magic without the intervention only I could make. When you were swept along upon your dream quests to the past, it was I who guided you back to the present, I who returned you to sanity.” The sorcerer’s voice rose. “It was I who gave you the power to influence Ashen-Shugar! You were my tool!” Tomas stepped back before the controlled fury of the sorcerer’s words. “No, Tomas, I have not given you much. I have given you everything!”

  For the first time since donning the armor in Mac Mordain Cadal, Tomas felt fear. In the most basic fiber of his being he suddenly was aware of how much power the sorcerer possessed, and that should Macros choose, he could brush him aside like a nettlesome insect. “Who are you?” he asked quietly, controlled fear in his voice.

  Macros’s anger vanished. He leaned once again upon his staff, and Tomas’s fears fled and with them all memory of his fears. With a chuckle, Macros said, “I tend to forget myself upon occasion. My apologies.” Then he grew serious once again. “I do not ask this thing from any demand of gratitude. What I have done is done, and you owe me nothing. But know this: both the creature called Ashen-Shugar and the boy called Tomas shared an abiding love of this world, each in his own way, incomprehensible to each other as that love was. You possess both aspects of the love of land: the desire of the Valheru to protect and control, and the desire of the keep boy to nurture and nourish. But should you fail in this task I set before you, should you stint in resolve when the moment is nigh, then know with dread certainty, this world upon which we stand shall be lost, lost beyond recalling. This on my most holy oath is the truth.”

  “Then I shall do as you instruct.”

  Macros smiled. “Go then to your wife, Prince Consort of Elvandar, but when it is time, marshal your army. I go to Stone Mountain, for Harthorn and his soldiers will join you. Every sword and war hammer is needed.”

  “Will they know you?”

  Macros gazed at Tomas. “Indeed they will know me, Tomas of Elvandar, never doubt.”

  “I shall gather all the might of Elvandar, Macros.” A grim note entered his voice. “And for all time, we will put an end to this war.”

  Macros waved his staff and vanished. Tomas waited alone for a time, struggling with a newfound fear, that this war would last forever.

  14

  Betrayal

  The armies stood facing one another.

  Seasoned veterans eyed each other across the open valley floor, not quite ready to feel at ease in the presence of an enemy they had fought for nine years and longer. Each side was composed of honor companies, representing the nobles of the Kingdom and clans of the Empire. Each numbered in excess of a thousand men. The last of the Tsurani invasion army was now entering the rift, returning home to Kelewan, leaving only the Emperor’s honor detachment behind. The Kingdom army was still camped at the mouths of the two passes into the valley and would not leave the area until the treaty was finalized. There was still a cautious aspect to the newfound trust.

  On the Kingdom side of the valley, Lyam sat astride a white war-horse, awaiting the Emperor’s arrival. Nearby the nobles of the Kingdom, their armor cleaned and polished, sat their horses. With them were the leaders of the Free Cities militia and a detachment of Natalese Rangers.

  Trumpets sounded from across the field, and the Emperor’s party could be seen emerging from the rift. Imperial banners fluttered in the breeze as the procession moved to the head of the Tsurani contingent.

  Awaiting the Tsurani herald, who was walking across the several hundred yards that separated the opposing monarchs, Prince Lyam turned to regard those who sat on horseback nearby. Pug, Kulgan, Meecham, and Laurie were accorded their position of honor by dint of their service to the Kingdom. Earl Vandros and several other officers who had distinguished themselves were also close by. Next to Lyam sat Arutha, astride a chestnut war-horse, who pranced in place out of high spirits.

  Pug looked around, feeling a giddy sensation at the sight of all the symbols of two mighty nations with whose fates he had been so closely tied. Across the open field he could see the banners of the powerful families of the Empire, all familiar to him: the Keda, the Oaxatucan, the Minwanabi, and the rest. Behind him were the fluttering banners of the Kingdom, all the duchies from Crydee in the west to Ran in the east.

  Kulgan noticed his former student’s far-off gaze and tapped him on the shoulder with the long staff he was holding. “Are you all right?”

  Pug turned. “I’m fine. I was just a little overwhelmed for a moment, engulfed in memories. It seems strange to see this day, in a way. Both sides of the war were bitter enemies, and yet I have ties with both lands. I find I have feelings I’ve yet to explore.”

  Kulgan smiled. “There will be much time for introspection later. Perhaps Tully and I can offer some aid.” The old cleric had accompanied Arutha on his brutal ride, not wishing to miss the peace meeting. The fourteen days in the saddle had taken a toll, however, and now he lay ill in Lyam’s tent. It had taken a command from Lyam to keep him there, for he had been determined to accompany the royal party.

  The Tsurani herald reached a place before Lyam. He bowed low, then said something in Tsurani. Pug rode forward to translate. “He says, ‘His Most Imperial Majesty, Ichindar, ninety-one times Emperor, Light of Heaven, and ruler of all the nations of Tsuranuanni, sends greetings to his brother monarch, His most Royal Highness, Prince Lyam, ruler of the lands known as the Kingdom. Will the Prince accept his invitation to join with him at the center of the valley?’ ”

  Lyam said, “Tell him that I return his greetings and will be pleased to meet with him at the appointed place.” Pug translated, with the appropriate Tsurani formality, and the herald bowed low and returned to his own lines.

  They could see the imperial litter being carried forward. Lyam signaled that his escort should accompany him, and they rode out to meet the Emperor in the center of the valley floor. Pug, Kulgan, and Laurie rode with the honor escort; Meecham waited with the soldiers.

  The Kingdom horsemen reached the designated place first and waited while the imperial retinue approached. The litter was born on the backs of twenty slaves, chosen for their uniformity in height and appearance. Their thick muscles bunched under the strain of carrying the heavy, gold-encrusted litter. Gauzy white curtains hung from gold-inlaid wooden supports, decorated with gems of great value and beauty. The rare metal and gems caught the sun’s rays and glittered brightly.

  Behind the litter marched representatives of the most powerful families in the Empire, clan Warchiefs. There were five of them, one for each family eligible to elect a new Warlord.

  The litter was lowered, and Ichindar, Emperor of the nations of Tsuranuanni, stepped out. He was dressed in golden armor, its value immeasurable by Tsurani standards. Upon his head was a crested helm covered in the same metal. He walked over to Lyam, who had dismounted to meet him. Pug, who was t
o translate, dismounted and walked to stand to one side of the two rulers. The Emperor nodded curtly to him.

  Lyam and Ichindar studied one another, and both seemed surprised at the other’s youthfulness. Ichindar was only three years older than the new Heir.

  Lyam began by welcoming the Emperor with friendship and the hope of peace. Ichindar responded in kind. Then the Light of Heaven stepped forward and extended his right hand. “I understand this is your custom?”

  Lyam took the hand of the Emperor of Tsuranuanni. Suddenly the tension broke, and cheers went up from both sides of the valley. The two young monarchs were smiling, and the handshake was vigorous and firm.

  Lyam said, “May this be the beginning of a lasting peace for our two nations.”

  Ichindar answered, “Peace is a new thing to Tsuranuanni, but I trust we will learn quickly. My High Council is divided over my actions. I hope the fruits of trade and the prosperity gained by learning from one another will unify attitudes.”

  “That is my wish also,” said Lyam. “To mark the truce, I have ordered a gift prepared for you.” He signaled, and a soldier trotted out from the Kingdom lines, leading a beautiful black war-horse behind. A black saddle set with gold was upon its back, and from the saddle horn hung a broadsword, with a jeweled scabbard and hilt.

  Ichindar regarded the horse with a little skepticism, but was awed by the workmanship of the sword. He hefted the great blade and said, “You honor me, Prince Lyam.”

  Ichindar turned to one of his escorts, who ordered a chest carried forward. Two slaves set it before the Emperor. It was carved ngaggi wood, finished to a deep and beautiful shine. Scrollwork surrounded bas-relief carvings of Tsurani animals and plants. Each had been cleverly stained in lighter and darker tones, in nearly lifelike detail. In itself it was a fine gift, but when the lid was thrown back, a pile of the finest cut stones, all larger than a man’s thumb, glistened in the sun.

  The Emperor said, “I would have difficulty justifying reparation to the High Council, and my position with them is not the best at present, but a gift to mark the occasion they cannot fault. I hope this will repair some of the destruction my nation has caused.”

  Lyam bowed slightly. “You are generous and I thank you. Will you join me for refreshments?” The Emperor nodded, and Lyam gave a command for a pavilion to be erected. A dozen soldiers galloped forward and dismounted. Several carried poles and bolts of material. In short order a large, open-sided pavilion was erected. Chairs and a table were set up under the covering. Other soldiers brought wine and food and placed them upon the table.

  Pug pulled out a large cushioned chair for the Emperor, as Arutha did for his brother. The two rulers sat, and Ichindar said, “This is quite a bit more comfortable than my throne. I must have a cushion made.”

  Wine was poured, and Lyam and the Emperor toasted each other. Then a toast to peace was offered. Everyone present drank it.

  Ichindar turned to Pug. “Great One, it seems that this meeting will prove more salubrious to those around than our last.”

  Pug bowed. “I trust so, Your Imperial Majesty. I hope I am forgiven my disruption of the Imperial Games.”

  The Emperor frowned. “Disruption? It was closer to destruction.”

  Pug translated for the others while Ichindar smiled ruefully in appreciation. “This Great One has done many innovative things in my Empire. I fear we will not see the end of his handiwork long after his name is forgotten. Still, that is a thing of the past. Let us concern ourselves with the future.”

  The honored guests from both camps stood in the pavilion as the two monarchs began their discussion of the best way to establish relationships between the two worlds.

  —

  TOMAS WATCHED THE pavilion. Calin and Dolgan waited on either side. Behind them more than two thousand elves and dwarves stood ready. They had entered the valley through the North Pass, moving by the Kingdom forces that were gathered. They had circled around the clearing, gathering in the woods to the west, where they were accorded a clear view of the proceeding.

  Tomas said to both his comrades, “I see little to indicate trickery.”

  A second dwarf, Harthom of Stone Mountain, walked over to them. “Aye, elfling. All looks peaceful enough, in spite of the sorcerer’s warning.”

  Abruptly there was a heat shimmer across the field, as if their vision swam and flickered; then Tomas and the others could see Tsurani soldiers drawing weapons.

  Tomas turned to those behind and said, “Be ready!”

  —

  A KINGDOM SOLDIER rode up to the pavilion. The Tsurani lords looked at him with distrust, for so far the only soldiers who neared the pavilion were those serving refreshments.

  “Your Highness!” he shouted. “Something strange is occurring.”

  “What?” said Lyam, disturbed at the man’s excitement.

  “From our position we can see figures moving through the woods to the west.”

  Lyam rose and saw figures near the edge of the trees. After a moment, while Pug translated the exchange for the Emperor, Lyam said, “That would be the dwarves and elves.” He turned to Ichindar. “I sent word to the Elf Queen and the dwarven Warleaders of the peace. They must be now approaching.”

  The Emperor came over to Lyam and studied the woods. “Why are they remaining in the trees? Why do they stay hidden?”

  Lyam turned to the horseman. “Ride and bid those in the trees join us.”

  The guard obeyed. When he was halfway to the woods, a shout went up from the trees, and green-clad elves and armored dwarves came running forward. Battle chants and cries filled the air. Ichindar looked at the onrushing figures in confusion. Several of his companions drew weapons. A soldier from the Tsurani lines dashed to the pavilion and cried, “Majesty, we are undone. It is a trap!”

  Every Tsurani backed away, swords drawn. Ichindar shouted, “Is this how you treat for peace? Mouthing pledges while you plot treachery?”

  Lyam didn’t understand his words, but the tone made the meaning clear. He gripped Pug’s arm and said, “Tell him I know nothing of this!”

  Pug tried to raise his voice over the commotion in the pavilion, but the Tsurani nobles were backing away, surrounding the Light of Heaven, while soldiers were rushing forward from the Tsurani lines to join in protecting Ichindar.

  Lyam shouted, “Back! Back to our own lines!” as the Tsurani soldiers approached. The Midkemians quickly mounted.

  Pug heard Ichindar’s voice carrying over the noise: “Treacherous one, you show your true nature. Never will Tsuranuanni deal with those without honor. We will grind your Kingdom into dust!”

  Sounds of fighting erupted as the elves and dwarves clashed with the Tsurani soldiers. Lyam and the others raced back to their own soldiers, who sat waiting to join the fight. As Lyam reined up, Lord Brucal said, “Shall we advance, Highness?”

  Lyam shook his head. “I will not be a party to treachery.”

  He regarded the scene before him. The elves and dwarves were pushing the Tsurani back toward the rift machine. The Emperor and his guards were circling, avoiding the fighting, keeping the thousand honor guards between the attackers and themselves. Runners could be seen disappearing into the rift.

  A moment later Tsurani soldiers erupted from the rift. They rushed forward to engage the attackers. The collapsing Tsurani line held, then started to push the elves and dwarves back.

  Arutha moved his horse next to Lyam’s. “Lyam! We must attack. Soon the elves and the dwarves will be overwhelmed. There are ten thousand more Tsurani on the other side of that rift, only a step away. If you ever hope to end this bloody war, we must capture and hold that machine.”

  Pug forced his own horse to the other side of Lyam’s mount. “Lyam!” he shouted. “You must do as Arutha says.”

  Doubt still held the young Heir. Pug raised his voice even louder. “Understand this: for nine years you’ve faced only a part of the might within the Empire, only those soldiers belonging to the clans of the Wa
r Party. Until now you had many hidden allies, blocking a major effort against the Kingdom. But now this betrayal has inflamed the one man who can command unquestioned obedience from all the clans of the Empire. Ichindar can order every clan of Tsuranuanni to marshal!

  “You’ve never faced more than thirty thousand warriors along all fronts. By tomorrow those thirty thousand can be back in this valley. In a week double again that number. Lyam, you have no idea how vast his powers are. Within a year he can send a million men and a thousand magicians against us! You must act!”

  Lyam sat stiffly, the bitterness of the moment clearly showing in his expression. “Can you aid us?”

  “I may, should you open a path for me to reach the machine, but I don’t know if I have the ability to shut off the rift. Other powers I have, but even if I overcame my conditioning and could oppose the Empire and I killed every man on this field, it would avail little, for a greater host would still be but a step away.”

  Lyam gave a curt nod. Slowly he faced Arutha. “Send gallopers to the North and South passes. Call all the Armies of the Kingdom to arms.” Arutha wheeled and shouted the order, and riders sped away toward both passes.

  Lyam looked back toward Pug. “If you can help, do so, but not until the way is safe. You are the only master of your arts upon this world.” Indicating Laurie, Meecham, and Kulgan, he said, “Keep them from the fighting as well, for they have no part in it. Stay back, and should we fail, use your arts to go to Krondor. Carline and Anita must be taken to the east, to their grand-uncle Caldric, for the West will surely be Tsurani.” He drew his sword and gave the order to advance.

  The thousand horsemen lumbered forward, a moving wall of steel gaining momentum as officers shouted orders, keeping the columns orderly. Then Lyam signaled the charge, and the lines became ragged as horsemen rushed across the clearing toward the Tsurani. The Tsurani heard the rumbling of cavalry, and many fell back from the elves and dwarves to form a shield wall. Pug, Laurie, Meecham, and Kulgan watched while the Kingdom horsemen collided with it. Horses and men screamed as long spears bent and broke. The shield wall wavered as men died, but others leaped forward to take their places, and the Kingdom host was turned back. Lyam re-formed his troops and charged again, this time breaking through the shields.