Magician: Apprentice

by Raymond Feist

  Gardan said, “A bold enough plan, Highness.” He saluted and left the wall, followed by Algon.

  Amos Trask said, “Your commanders are cautious men, Highness.”

  Arutha said, “You agree with my plan?”

  “Should Crydee fall, what matters when Carse or Tulan falls? If not this year, then next for certain. It might as well be in one fight as two or three. As the sergeant said, it is a bold plan. Still, a ship was never taken without getting close enough to board. You have the makings of a fine corsair should you ever grow tired of being a Prince, Highness.”

  Arutha regarded Amos Trask with a skeptical smile. “Corsair, is it? I thought you claimed to be an honest trader.”

  Amos looked slightly discomposed. Then he broke out in a hearty laugh. “I only said I had a cargo for Crydee, Highness. I never said how I came by it.”

  “Well, we have no time for your piratical past now.”

  Amos looked stung. “No pirate, Sire. The Sidonie was carrying letters of marque from Great Kesh, given by the governor of Durbin.”

  Arutha laughed. “Of course! And everyone knows there is no finer, more law-abiding group upon the high seas than the captains of the Durbin coast.”

  Amos shrugged. “They tend to be a crusty lot, it’s true. And they sometimes make free with the concept of free passage on the high seas, but we prefer the term privateer.”

  Horns blew and drums beat, and with shrieking war cries the Tsurani came. The defenders waited, then as the attacking host crossed the invisible line marking the outer range of the castle’s war engines, death rained down upon the Tsurani. Still they came.

  The Tsurani crossed the second invisible line marking the outer range of the castle’s bowmen, and scores more died. Still they came.

  The attackers reached the walls, and defenders dropped stones and pushed over scaling ladders, dealing out death to those below. Still they came.

  Arutha quickly ordered a redeployment of his reserves, directing them to be ready near the points of heaviest attack. Men hurried to carry out his orders.

  Standing atop the west wall, in the thick of the fight, Arutha answered attack with attack, repulsing warrior after warrior as they reached the top of the wall. Even in the midst of battle, Arutha was aware of the scene around him, shouting orders, hearing replies, catching glimpses of what others were doing. He saw Amos Trask, disarmed, strike a Tsurani full in the face with his fist, knocking the man from the wall. Trask then carefully bent down and picked up his cutlass as if he had simply dropped it while strolling along the wall. Gardan moved among the men, exhorting the defenders, bolstering sagging spirits, and driving the men beyond the point where they would normally have given in to exhaustion.

  Arutha helped two soldiers push away another scaling ladder, then stared in momentary confusion as one of the men slowly turned and sat at his feet, surprise on his face as he looked down at the Tsurani bowshaft in his chest. The man leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as if deciding to sleep for a time.

  Arutha heard someone shout his name. Gardan stood a few feet away, pointing to the north section of the west wall. “They’ve crested the wall!”

  Arutha ran past Gardan, shouting, “Order the reserves to follow!” He raced along the wall until he reached the breach in the defenses. A dozen Tsurani held each end of a section of the wall, pushing forward to clear room for their comrades to follow. Arutha hurled himself into the front rank, past weary and surprised guards who were being forced back along the battlement. Arutha thrust over the first Tsurani shield, taking the man in the throat. The Tsurani’s face registered shock, then he keeled over and fell into the courtyard below. Arutha attacked the man next to the first and shouted, “For Crydee! For the Kingdom!”

  Then Gardan was among them, like a towering black giant, dealing blows to all who stood before. Suddenly the men of Crydee pressed forward, a wave of flesh and steel along the narrow rampart. The Tsurani stood their ground, refusing to yield the hard-won breach, and to a man were killed.

  Arutha struck a Tsurani warrior with the bell guard of his rapier, knocking him to the ground below, and turned to find the wall once more in the possession of the defenders. Horns blew from the Tsurani lines, and the attackers withdrew.

  Arutha became aware the sun had cleared the mountains to the east. The morning had finally come. He surveyed the scene below and felt suddenly more fatigued than he could ever remember. Turning slowly, he saw every man on the wall was watching him. Then one of the soldiers shouted, “Hail, Arutha! Hail, Prince of Crydee!”

  Suddenly the castle was ringing with shouts as men chanted, “Arutha! Arutha!”

  To Gardan, Arutha asked, “Why?”

  With a satisfied look the sergeant replied, “They saw you personally take the fight to the Tsurani, Highness, or heard from others. They are soldiers and expect certain things from a commander. They are now truly your men, Highness.”

  Arutha stood quietly as the cheers filled the castle. Then he raised his hand and the courtyard fell silent. “You have done well. Crydee is served aright by her soldiers.” He spoke to Gardan. “Change the watch upon the walls. We may have little time to enjoy the victory.”

  As if his words were an omen, a shout came from a guard atop the nearest tower. “Highness, ’ware the field.”

  Arutha saw the Tsurani lines had been re-formed. Wearily he said, “Have they no limit?”

  Instead of the expected attack, a single man walked from the Tsurani line, apparently an officer by his crested helm. He pointed to the walls, and the entire Tsurani line erupted in cheers. He walked farther, within bow range, stopping several times to point at the wall. His blue armor glinted in the morning sun as the attackers cheered with his gestures toward the castle.

  “A challenge?” said Gardan, watching the strange display as the man showed his back, unmindful of personal danger, and walked back to his own lines.

  “No,” said Amos Trask, who came to stand next to Gardan. “I think they salute a brave enemy.” Amos shook his head slightly. “A strange people.”

  Arutha said, “Shall we ever understand such men?”

  Gardan put his hand upon Arutha’s shoulder. “I doubt it. Look, they quit the field.”

  The Tsurani were marching back toward their tents before the remains of Crydee town. A few watchmen were left to observe the castle, but it was clear the main force was being ordered to stand down again. Gardan said, “I would have ordered another assault.” His voice betrayed his disbelief. “They have to know we are near exhaustion. Why not press the attack?”

  Amos said, “Who can say. Perhaps they, too, are tired.”

  Arutha said, “This attacking through the night has some meaning I do not understand.” He shook his head. “In time we will know what they plot. Leave a watch upon the walls, but have the men retire to the courtyard. It is becoming clear they prefer not to attack during the day. Order food brought from the kitchen, and water to bathe with.” Orders were passed, and men left their posts, some sitting on the walks below the wall, too tired to trudge down the steps. Others reached the courtyard and tossed aside their weapons, sitting in the shade of the battlements while castle porters hurried among them with buckets of fresh water. Arutha leaned against the wall. He spoke silently to himself. “They’ll be back.”

  They came again that night.

  18

  Siege

  Wounded men groaned at sunrise.

  For the twelfth straight night the Tsurani had assaulted the castle, only to retire at dawn. Gardan could not see any clear reason for the dangerous night attacks. As he watched the Tsurani gathering up their dead, then returning to their tents, he said, “They are strange. Their archers cannot fire at the walls once the ladders are up for fear of hitting their own men. We have no such problem, knowing everyone below is the enemy. I don’t understand these men.”

  Arutha sat numbly washing the blood and dirt from his face, oblivious to the scene about him. He was too tired e
ven to answer Gardan. “Here,” a voice nearby said, and he pulled the damp cloth from his face to see a proffered drinking cup. He took the cup and drained it in one long pull, savoring the taste of strong wine.

  Carline stood before him, wearing tunic and trousers, her sword hanging at her side. “What are you doing here?” Arutha asked, fatigue making his voice sound harsh in his own ears.

  Carline’s manner was brisk. “Someone must carry water and food. With every man on the walls all night long, who do you think is fit for duty in the morning? Not that pitiful handful of porters who are too old for fighting, that is certain.”

  Arutha looked about and saw other women, ladies of the castle as well as servants and fishwives, walking among the men, who thankfully took the offered food and drink. He smiled his crooked smile. “How fare you?”

  “Well enough. Still, sitting in the cellar is as difficult in its own way as being on the wall, I judge. Each sound of battle that reaches us brings one or another of the ladies to tears.” Her voice carried a tone of mild disapproval. “They huddle like rabbits. Oh, it is so tiresome.” She stood quietly for a moment, then asked, “Have you seen Roland?”

  He looked about. “Last night for a time.” He covered his face in the soothing wetness of the cloth. Pulling it away after a moment, he added, “Or perhaps it was two nights past. I’ve lost track.” He pointed toward the wall nearest the keep. “He should be over there somewhere. I put him in charge of the off watch. He is responsible for guarding against a flank attack.”

  Carline smiled. She knew Roland would be chafing to get into the fight, but with his responsibilities it would be unlikely unless the Tsurani attacked on all sides. “Thank you, Arutha.”

  Arutha feigned ignorance. “For what?”

  She kneeled and kissed his wet cheek. “For knowing me better than I know myself sometimes.” She stood and walked away.

  —

  ROLAND WALKED ALONG the battlements, watching the distant forest beyond the broad clearing that ran along the eastern wall of the castle. He approached a guard standing next to an alarm bell and said, “Anything?”

  “Nothing, Squire.”

  Roland nodded. “Keep a watchful eye. This is the narrowest open area before the wall. If they come against a second flank, this is where I would expect the assault.”

  The soldier said, “In truth, Squire. Why do they come only against one wall, and why the strongest?”

  Roland shrugged. “I don’t pretend to know. Perhaps to show contempt, or bravery. Or for some alien reason.”

  The guard came to attention and saluted. Carline had come silently up behind them. Roland took her by the arm and hurried her along. “What do you think you’re doing up here?” he said in ungentle tones.

  Her look of relief at finding him alive and unhurt turned to one of anger. “I came to see if you were all right,” she said defiantly.

  Guiding her down the stairs to the courtyard below, he answered, “We’re not so far removed from the forest a Tsurani bowman could not reduce the Duke’s household by one. I’ll not explain to your father and brothers what my reasons were for allowing you up there.”

  “Oh! Is that your only reason? You don’t want to face Father.”

  He smiled and his voice softened. “No. Of course not.”

  She returned the smile. “I was worried.”

  Roland sat upon the lower steps and plucked at some weeds growing near the base of the stones, pulling them out and tossing them aside. “Little reason for that. Arutha has seen I’ll not risk much.”

  Placatingly, Carline said, “Still, this is an important post. If they attack here, you’ll have to hold with a small number until reinforcements come.”

  “If they attack. Gardan came by yesterday, and he thinks they may tire of this soon and dig in for a long siege, waiting for us to starve.”

  She said, “More’s their hard luck, then. We’ve stores through the winter, and they’ll find little to forage out there once the snows come.”

  Playfully mocking, he said, “What have we here? A student of tactics?”

  She regarded him like an overtaxed teacher confronted with a particularly slow student. “I listen, and I have my wits about me. Do you think I do nothing but sit around waiting for you men to tell me what is occurring? If I did, I’d know nothing.”

  He put up his hands in sign of supplication. “I’m sorry, Carline. You are most definitely no one’s fool.” He stood and took her hand. “But you have made me your fool.”

  She squeezed his hand. “No, Roland, I have been the fool. It has taken me almost three years to understand just how good a man you are. And how good a friend.” She leaned over and kissed him lightly. He returned the kiss with tenderness. “And more,” she added quietly.

  “When this is over…” he began.

  She placed her free hand over his lips. “Not now, Roland. Not now.”

  He smiled his understanding. “I’d best be back to the walls, Carline.”

  She kissed him again and left for the main courtyard and the work to be done. He climbed back to the wall and resumed his vigil.

  —

  IT WAS LATE afternoon when a guard shouted, “Squire! In the forest!” Roland looked in the indicated direction and saw two figures sprinting across the open ground. From the trees the shouts of men came, and the clamor of battle.

  Crydee bowmen raised their weapons, then Roland shouted, “Hold! It’s Longbow!” To the guard next to him he said, “Bring ropes, quickly.”

  Longbow and Garret reached the wall as the ropes were being lowered and, as soon as they were secured, scrambled upward. When they were safely over the walls, they sank exhaustedly behind the battlements. Waterskins were handed the two foresters, who drank deeply.

  “What now?” asked Roland.

  Longbow gave him a lopsided smile. “We found another band of travelers heading northward about thirty miles southeast of here and arranged for them to visit with the Tsurani.”

  Garret looked up at Roland with eyes darkly circled from fatigue. “A band he calls it. Damn near five hundred moredhel moving in strength. Must have been a full hundred chasing us through the woods the last two days.”

  Roland said, “Arutha will be pleased. The Tsurani have hit us each night since you left. We could do with a little diverting of their attentions.”

  Longbow nodded. “Where’s the Prince?”

  “At the west wall, where all the fighting’s been.”

  Longbow stood and pulled the exhausted Garret to his feet. “Come along. We’d better report.”

  Roland instructed the guards to keep a sharp watch and followed the two huntsmen. They found Arutha supervising the distribution of weapons to those in need of replacing broken or dulled ones. Gardell, the smith, and his apprentices gathered up those that were reparable and dumped them into a cart, heading for the forge to begin work.

  Longbow said, “Highness, another band of moredhel have come north. I led them here, so the Tsurani could be too busy to attack tonight.”

  Arutha said, “That is welcome news. Come, we’ll have a cup of wine, and you can tell of what you saw.”

  Longbow sent Garret off to the kitchen and followed Arutha and Roland into the keep. The Prince sent word asking Gardan to join them in the council room and, when they were all there, asked Longbow to recount his travels.

  Longbow drank deeply from the wine cup placed before him. “It was touch and go for a while. The woods are thick with both Tsurani and moredhel. And there are many signs they have little affection for one another. We counted at least a hundred dead on both sides.”

  Arutha looked at the other three men. “We know little of their ways, but it seems foolish for them to travel so close to Crydee.”

  Longbow shook his head. “They have little choice, Highness. The Green Heart must be foraged clean, and they cannot return to their mountains because of the Tsurani. The moredhel are making for the Northlands and won’t risk passing near Elvandar. With t
he rest of the way blocked by the Tsurani strength, their only path is through the forests nearby, then westward along the river toward the coast. Once they reach the sea, they can turn northward again. They must gain the Great Northern Mountains before winter to reach their brothers in the Northlands safely.”

  He drank the rest of his cup and waited while a servant refilled it. “From all signs, nearly every moredhel in the south is making for the Northlands. It looks as if over a thousand have already safely been by here. How many more will come this way through the summer and fall, we cannot guess.” He drank again. “The Tsurani will have to watch their eastern flank and would do well to watch the south as well. The moredhel are starved and might chance a raid into the Tsurani camp while the bulk of the army is thrown against the walls of the castle. Should a three-way fight occur, it could get messy.”

  “For the Tsurani,” said Gardan.

  Martin hoisted his cup in salute. “For the Tsurani.”

  Arutha said, “You’ve done well, Huntmaster.”

  “Thank you, Highness.” He laughed. “I’d never thought to see the day I’d welcome sight of the Dark Brotherhood in the forests of Crydee.”

  Arutha drummed his fingers upon the table. “It will be another two to three weeks before we can expect the armies from Tulan and Carse. If the Dark Brothers harry the Tsurani enough, we might have some respite.” He looked at Martin. “What occurs to the east?”

  Longbow spread his hands upon the table. “We couldn’t get close enough to see much as we hurried past, but they are up to something. They’ve a good number of men scattered throughout the woods from the edge of the clearing back about a half mile. If it hadn’t been for the moredhel hot on our heels, Garret and I might not have made it back to the walls.”

  “I wish I knew what they were doing out there,” said Arutha. “This attacking only at night, it surely masks some trickery.”