Legends of the Riftwar

by Raymond E. Feist

  Still smarting from that hearty slap, Jimmy grinned falsely. He would probably be wise to get away from this fellow. Generally he didn’t trust back-slappers, thinking them bullies who didn’t quite dare to show it. But bullies took things from you and yet Coe was falling over himself in his eagerness to be helpful. It was disconcerting.

  ‘I’m just catching up with some friends,’ he said. ‘They left at dawn.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Coe, his interest visibly sharpening. ‘I wonder if I know them. I, too, am late in following a pair of fellows I must speak with. We’ll share my supplies, my young friend.’ The stableman brought the two horses over, saddled and ready. ‘Mount up.’

  I’m in his debt now, Jimmy thought. And look to be more so. I hate debts, but it’s stupid to turn down help when you need it. What do I know of chasing men through field and wood? Alleys and sewers and even Radburn’s dungeons he could manage. In the countryside he’d be as lost as…well, as Lorrie had been here in town, where even a complete stranger like Jimmy could land on his feet.

  Jimmy considered the situation. I could simply run away, but that would attract attention. Besides, you’re never out of options until you’re dead, he thought. He could take the chance of travelling with Coe and see what happened. If things looked dicey he could stop somewhere with people in sight and say they were his friends. Or, if worst came to worst, he could make for the woods and hide. He was good at hiding and climbing.

  How much harder could it be to hide in a thicket of trees than in an alley?

  He was suspicious of the man, but then again, suspicion was his response to every new face. Coe had helped him, with the wristband that had stopped Jimmy’s seasickness, and had given them good advice on where to stay in Land’s End. One of the things he’d learned in last night’s ramble was that The Cockerel was indeed as bad a place as any in Krondor. He and Flora hadn’t needed the warning, but Jarvis Coe wouldn’t know that. In fact, the man had nothing to gain from either act, because he had no reason to expect to ever see Jimmy again.

  And I’m curious about him. Curiosity is one of the very things that makes me a good thief and, damnit, it’ll make this chase after Lorrie’s little brother less boring. After all, he’d been wondering what he would do if he did catch up with the kidnappers.

  Well, he’d told himself, I’m a thief. I’ll steal the boy back.

  But that was bravado and he knew it. One of the things Jimmy was learning of late was that he really couldn’t do everything he imagined, just most of it. Facing one hardened man with sword in hand was worrisome. Facing two, well, that was just plain stupid. If he could enlist Coe then maybe he might actually stand a chance of saving Rip.

  There was something about the man that didn’t quite ring true, but Jimmy’s instincts told him that Coe was all right. Secretive, perhaps, even hiding his true reasons as much as Jimmy was, but not bad. Living as he had in Krondor, bad was something the young thief could sense without thinking and nine times out often, he’d be right. His bump of trouble just didn’t react to Coe.

  What really worried him was who Jarvis Coe was trying to catch up with. For a brief instant Jimmy considered that he might be a colleague of the two who had kidnapped Rip. Then he shoved the thought aside: had that been the case, Jimmy’s bump of trouble would be positively throbbing.

  The stableman cleared his throat; Coe was looking at him with a cocked eyebrow.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Thinking.’

  One of the stable’s lackeys linked his hands. Jimmy looked at them, then at the tall horse, and put his foot into them. Not that he needed a step up, but he’d observed that ordinary folk got a little disturbed when you exhibited excessive agility.

  The stablehand was thick-armed. He also surprised Jimmy by the strength he employed giving him a leg up, almost tossing him right over the horse. Had the thief been less agile that’s exactly what would have happened. He glared at the man, who shrugged and grinned, almost looking disappointed.

  Jarvis shook his head. ‘They’re all like that,’ he said to Jimmy. ‘Everyone thinks it’s fun to play practical jokes on a beginner.’

  The fellow shrugged again, and showed strong yellow teeth much like those of his charges. ‘Life’s dull,’ he said, ‘y’have to make your entertainment when ye can.’

  Jimmy glared at him. ‘Do you like gratuities?’ he asked, pulling a silver piece out of his belt.

  ‘Huh?’ asked the lackey.

  Switching to street vernacular, Jimmy said, ‘You like tips?’

  The man’s grin broadened. ‘Certs!’

  Putting the coin away, Jimmy said, ‘Then find your entertainment somewhere else.’

  Coe laughed. ‘Let’s go,’ he said and turned his horse.

  But Jimmy could tell, even before they left the yard, that his horse had a sense of humour much like the lackey.

  Suddenly, he thought, everyone I meet is a character. Gods, when will I be able to go home to Krondor? By the time they passed the last booth at the edge of the market, his arse was already sore. It can’t be soon enough, he thought.

  They still weren’t out of traffic–everything from a herd of sheep being driven in toward town, to wagons heading out, and more pedestrians trudging along beside the dusty white ribbon of highway that snaked off to the north; a faint hint of the ocean came on the breeze, and the occasional trees showed the direction of the prevailing wind by the way they leaned to the right. Dust got into his teeth, kicked up by feet and hooves and wheels. The deep ruts showed that mud was probably worse.

  Jimmy coughed and shifted uncomfortably and the horse decided that meant it should take off at a trot, and nothing he could do or say thereafter would change its mind. Coe came up beside him, obviously trying not to laugh. ‘Sit back,’ he said. ‘Don’t yank on the reins, as that will only irritate it. Tug once as you sit back, then release the pressure. If it doesn’t stop, tug again.’

  Jimmy sat back, shifting his weight to the rear of the saddle. The horse hesitated, as if uncertain what its rider wanted, but after a couple of steps, it slowed, then stopped.

  Coe’s horse made as if to nip it and Coe handily yanked the beast’s head away.

  Jimmy gasped out: ‘Thank you.’ It’s stupid to be afraid of falling off this thing! he thought, rubbing at a rib where the hilt of his sword had thumped him painfully. I’ve jumped down from far higher roofs!

  ‘You really don’t know how to ride, do you?’ Coe said.

  The young thief shook his head. ‘I’ve never left Krondor before,’ he said. ‘And there I had no need of riding.’ He made a wry face. ‘I’ve seen it done often enough and it looked so easy. I was sure I could manage it.’

  Coe gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like a muffled laugh. ‘Well, for starters, you see that loop in front of your left knee? You can slide the scabbard of your sword through it. Until you’ve ridden a little more, having it loose at your side can be dangerous.’

  Jimmy slid Prince Arutha’s gift from his belt-sling and through the loop and the sheath settled firmly.

  ‘Riding’s more like dancing than just sitting down on the animal. You’re quick and strong, though, it shouldn’t be too hard. Just remember that the horse’s back is going up and down whenever it’s moving. The faster it goes, the faster the movement. That’s why you grip–so you don’t bounce up and down even harder. Use your knees like springs–as if you were jumping down from a height…’

  All right, I’ll try that, Jimmy thought: he was reminded of the way Prince Arutha had shown him the sword. He was immediately aware that the mare was more relaxed. Which makes one of us, he thought bitterly.

  ‘Now remember that the horse can feel what you want it to do. If you squeeze tighter with your thighs and lean forward, it knows you want to go faster. If you lean back, it knows you want to stop. Try turning it by pressing one knee, touching the rein to the same side of its neck, and leaning a little forward and in the way you want to go–just a little, more a matter of shifting yo
ur balance than moving–you only pull on the bit when you need to shout. Right, that’s good. Now–’

  ‘This is pretty tiring,’ Jimmy said after a few minutes.

  ‘That’s probably because you’re too tense,’ Coe said. ‘And you’re using muscles you haven’t used before. Don’t worry, it gets easier with experience.’

  ‘I hope we don’t have far to go,’ Jimmy muttered.

  Coe did laugh at that. ‘Look at the bright side; you’ll cover more ground on horseback.’

  ‘I just won’t be able to walk at the end of it.’

  ‘You’re young and fit, Jimmy; it’ll pass quickly.’ Coe moved a little ahead and said nothing else for a time, leaving Jimmy to sort himself out. After he and the horse had come to an understanding Jimmy rode forward until he was by the older man’s side.

  Jimmy felt discomfort in his legs, but nothing compared to the discomfort he felt about Coe and his relationship to the men they were following. Acting casual, he asked, ‘These men you’re looking for, they’re friends of yours?’

  Coe shook his head. ‘No. I just think they might have some information I need.’ He turned to look at Jimmy. ‘And you?’

  The young Mocker distinctly remembered telling him that he was going to meet some friends. Evidently he hadn’t been believed. I was going to have to tell him the truth sooner or later. Might as well tell him now. ‘Truth is,’ he said cautiously, ‘I’ve never even seen them.’

  ‘Correspondents are you?’ Coe asked, grinning.

  Jimmy didn’t even smile. Instead, he shook his head. ‘No, sir. It’s like this: Flora and I met this girl, a farm-girl just come into the city looking for her brother. She’s hurt and can’t go anywhere and she says these men took her brother from her family’s steading. She asked me to go get him back.’

  ‘Just like that?’ Coe asked. He looked genuinely astonished. ‘It’s very generous of you, Master Jimmy, but how were you planning to persuade them to give the boy up?’

  ‘First I needed a horse,’ the young thief replied, ‘so I was concentrating on that problem when you appeared. And the horse problem got resolved so quickly, well…’ Jimmy hesitated. ‘Truth is, I hadn’t actually planned that far ahead.’

  Coe chuckled. ‘Well, isn’t this something?’ He shook his head, then said, ‘We seem to be following the same two men. They are very, very dangerous.’

  Jimmy tried to sound confident. ‘I’ve had dealings with dangerous men before.’

  Coe looked at Jimmy and there was no humour in his expression. ‘This is no lark, boy. So if you’ve any notions of doing heroic deeds with no one getting hurt I suggest you turn that beast around right now and hie yourself back to Land’s End. Because that’s not the way things will happen. These two have information I need, and they will probably be disinclined to give it freely. I expect blood will flow before we’re through. And since I don’t want you disturbing my plans I must insist that I be in charge. Because I do have a plan and I’m going to assume I’m also more experienced in this sort of thing. Follow my instructions, and we’ll try very hard to ensure that the blood which flows isn’t ours. Are we agreed?’

  Jimmy sat silently, then he laughed. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how relieved I am to be with someone who has a plan. Because I was talked into this much against my better judgment and have no idea of what I’m doing.’ He let out a theatrical sigh of relief. ‘So what are we going to do?’

  If the older man was taken aback by Jimmy’s practical enthusiasm he hid it behind an unmistakable expression of pure doubt. Then he sighed and picked up the pace.

  ‘First,’ he said, ‘we must find them.’

  TWELVE

  Escape

  Two men crested the rise.

  They rode into sight as they reached the summit of the next hill. Jimmy pointed them out, then turned to see Coe’s reaction. His companion wore a startled, unhappy expression, as though someone had just dumped something cold and slimy down between his collar and his skin.

  Jimmy frowned, forgetting the areas he felt like rubbing at the moment. Which were many. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Jarvis rubbed a spot on his chest, then grabbed something beneath the cloth of his shirt and pulled it away from his body. They’d been riding since mid-morning, about five hours or so as well as Jimmy could judge; he didn’t realize how used he was to the shadows of the city telling him what time it was. They hadn’t stopped to rest the horses either, and the animals appeared to Jimmy’s untrained eye to be no less fatigued than his legs and backside were. Moreover, Jarvis Coe hadn’t proven talkative along the way, and Jimmy was still a little vague on what it was they were going to accomplish once they got wherever they were going. He returned his attention to Coe, who still stared at the two men on the next rise.

  ‘Master Coe?’ Jimmy prompted.

  The man’s eyes moved and he stared at Jimmy’s face, but it was a moment before they seemed to actually see him. ‘There’s a wicked feeling about this place,’ he said.

  Jimmy looked around: there was a copse of trees to the right, fields to the left and up ahead, a slight rise in the land with a jut of rock around which the road wound and which now hid their quarry. A peasant was working in the field, taking something out of a sack and throwing it on the lumpy ploughed land. He shook his head. ‘Seems ordinary enough to me.’

  Coe looked at him sideways, still clutching whatever it was he wore beneath his shirt. Then he shrugged. ‘Perhaps I’m mistaken. Just a feeling after all.’ He gave his head a hard shake and blinked his eyes. ‘Was there something you wanted?’

  All right, Jimmy thought. He’d had ‘feelings’ of his own a time or two. Time to get careful. Maybe my bump of trouble doesn’t work outside the city, and Jarvis Coe’s does. ‘I saw two men riding up ahead,’ he said aloud.

  ‘Then let’s try to catch up to them.’ Coe trotted ahead. When Jimmy caught up to him the older man looked over at him. ‘Do you have a weapon besides the sword?’ he asked.

  ‘My knife,’ Jimmy said, his voice implying a shrug he couldn’t manage at a trot.

  ‘Lag behind me as I catch them up. I’ll tell them I need directions to Land’s End. When they tell me it’s behind us I’ll berate you for getting the innkeeper’s directions wrong.’

  Jimmy grimaced and Coe said, ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s a little hard to miss Land’s End from the road if you think about it.’

  Coe tried not to laugh. ‘I was never very good at subterfuge on my feet. What do you suggest?’

  ‘Just ask if they mind if we travel along, in case of highwaymen. That should distract them, even if they say “no”.’

  ‘Very well. We ride up together. I’ll hale them and start talking while you look for the boy, if you can get close enough, grab him and run. I’ll take care of the rest. Understood?’

  ‘Yes,’ the young Mocker said. It seemed a reasonable enough plan. ‘If it’s them they must have been dragging their heels for us to catch up to them when they left so long before us.’

  Coe didn’t answer, but then he didn’t need to: Jimmy was self-evidently correct. When they made the turn around the low hill they found the two men, their horses at a standstill, apparently having an argument. The smaller man had a bulky sack tied onto his horse behind the saddle, but there was no sign of a child. The two men looked back at them and their horses began to prance nervously.

  ‘Excuse me, sirs,’ Jarvis called out. ‘Could you spare a moment, please?’

  The two men looked at one another and shortened their reins; then, before Jimmy could catch up to Coe, they set heels hard to their horses’ sides and took off down the road as though pursued by demons.

  ‘Well that certainly looks guilty,’ Jimmy muttered.

  Coe didn’t hear him; he’d whipped his horse after the two men as soon as they’d started off. It was a chase they had no hope of winning, for their horses were hardly as fresh as the kidnappers’. They’d been riding steady, while the two men had ap
parently dawdled along with many a rest, for Jarvis and Jimmy to have overtaken them so soon.

  Still, we have to try, and we might get lucky.

  Jimmy clapped his heels into the horse’s sides. It took off after the other man’s mount: horses were obviously gang-minded, Jimmy decided. He could feel the power of the gait, the thunder of hooves and the rushing speed, faster than anything he’d experienced before–and the hammering of the saddle against his abused hams. Jimmy flapped his elbows like a chicken, but he had almost supernatural balance, and managed to get into the rhythm of the horse’s gait without difficulty. He had the odd notion that he had no idea what to do if the horse decided to stop suddenly; Jarvis hadn’t mentioned how to ride at a gallop and he genuinely had no idea of what to do to slow the animal. The saddle was slamming him hard in the arse and his teeth were rattling. He put his heels down, as Coe had reminded him several times during the day, and stood up in the stirrups. Suddenly, his teeth stopped rattling and his head stopped bouncing enough to have a clear view ahead. Ah ha! he said silently, that’s how you do it! He let his knees flex and his legs and hips rolled with the horse’s gait, while his upper body remained relatively level with the road.

  For a giddy moment, Jimmy thought, this riding business isn’t so bad if you keep your wits about you. Then the horse decided it was tired of running, and it was only Jimmy’s uncanny reflexes and superior sense of balance that kept him from launching from the horse’s back, landing on the hardpan road with painful consequences. As it was, he ended up in front of the saddle, hugging the animal’s neck. The horse seemed irritated by the unexpected display of affection and with a snort began to trot, returning Jimmy to the teeth-rattling again.