The Riftwar Saga Trilogy: Magician, Silverthorn and A Darkness at Sethanon

by Raymond E. Feist

  Seeing his explanation was gaining little sympathy, he changed tactics. ‘In any event, I have little time to consider my other office. I may end up another noble of your father’s court, running my estates – small though they might be – caring for my tenants, answering calls to arms, and the rest. But I can’t even think of that until I resolve this other matter, my studies of magic. I must keep trying until I’m satisfied I made the wrong choice. Or until Kulgan dismisses me,’ he added quietly.

  He stopped and studied her face. Her large blue eyes watched him intently. ‘Magicians are of little consequence in the Kingdom. I mean, should I become a master magician . . . Well, could you see yourself married to a magician, whatever his rank?’

  She looked slightly alarmed. Quickly she leaned over and kissed him again, rupturing his already frayed composure. ‘Poor Pug,’ she said, pulling away a little. Her soft voice rang sweetly to his ears. ‘You don’t have to be. A magician, I mean. You have land and title, and I know Father could arrange others when the time was right.’

  ‘It’s not a question of what I want, don’t you see? It’s a question of what I am. Part of the problem may be I haven’t truly given myself over to my work. Kulgan took me for his apprentice as much from pity as need, you know. And in spite of what he and Tully have said, I’ve never been really convinced I was especially talented. But perhaps I need to dedicate myself, commit myself to becoming a magician.’ He took a breath. ‘How can I do that if I’m concerning myself with my estates and offices? Or gaining new ones?’ He paused. ‘Or you?’

  Carline bit her lower lip slightly, and Pug fought down the urge to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. He had no doubt that once he did that, matters would quickly be beyond his control. No girl in his limited experience, even the prettier ones in the town, aroused such strong feelings in him.

  Lowering her lashes a little as she looked down, she softly said, ‘I’ll do whatever you say, Pug.’ Pug felt relief for a moment, then the full impact of what she had just said hit him. Oh, gods! he thought. No magician’s trick could keep him focused in the face of youthful passion. He frantically sought some way to drive desire from him and then thought of her father. Instantly an image of a scowling Duke of Crydee standing before the hangman’s gibbet banished most of his lust.

  Taking a deep breath, Pug said, ‘In my own way, I do love you, Carline.’ Her face came aglow, and forfending disaster, he plunged on. ‘But I think I should try to find out about myself before I try to make up my mind about the rest.’ His concentration was sorely tested as the girl seemed to ignore his remarks, being busy kissing his face.

  Then she stopped and sat back. Her happy expression faded into one of thoughtfulness as her natural intelligence overrode her childish need to get everything she wanted. Comprehension came into her eyes as he said, ‘If I chose now, Carline, I might always doubt the choice. Would you want to face the possibility I would come to resent you for the choice I made?’

  She said nothing for a while, then quietly said, ‘No. I don’t think I could stand that, Pug.’

  He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt tension drain away. Suddenly the room seemed cold, and both of them shivered. Carline gripped his hands tight, with surprising strength. She mustered a smile and said, with forced calm, ‘I understand, Pug.’ She took a long breath, then softly added, ‘That’s why I think I love you. You could never be false with anyone. Least of all with yourself.’

  ‘Or you, Carline.’ Her eyes grew moist, but she maintained her smile. ‘This isn’t easy,’ Pug said, assaulted by feelings for the girl. ‘Please, please, believe me, this is not easy.’

  Suddenly the tension broke, and Carline laughed softly, sweet music to Pug. Caught halfway between tears and laughter, she said, ‘Poor Pug. I’ve upset you.’

  Pug’s face showed his relief at her understanding. He felt buoyant with his affection for the girl. Shaking his head slowly, with a smile of released tension that gave him a somewhat silly expression, he said, ‘You’ve no idea, Carline. No idea.’ He reached out and touched her face tenderly. ‘We have time. I’m not going anywhere.’

  From under lowered lashes, blue eyes regarded him with worry. ‘You’ll be leaving with Father soon.’

  ‘I mean when I return. I’ll be here for years.’ Gently he kissed her cheek. Forcing a lighter tone, he said, ‘I can’t inherit for three more years, that’s the law. And I doubt your father would part with you for as many years yet.’ Attempting a wry smile, he added, ‘In three years you might not be able to stand the sight of me.’

  She came softly into his arms, holding him tightly, her face resting on his shoulder. ‘Never, Pug. I could never care for another.’ Pug could only marvel at the feel of her. Her body trembled as she said, ‘I don’t have words, Pug. You’re the only one who tried to . . . understand me. You see more than anyone else.’ Gently he pulled back a little and raised up her face with his hand. Again he kissed her, tasting salty tears upon her lips. She suddenly responded, holding him tighter and kissing him with passion. He could feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her gown, and heard soft sighing sounds in his ear as he felt himself drifting back into mindless passion, his own body beginning to respond. Steeling his resolve, he gently disengaged himself from Carline’s embrace. Slowly he forced himself away from her and, with regret in his voice, said, ‘I think you should return to your rooms, Carline.’

  Carline looked up at Pug, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly parted. Her breathing was husky, and Pug fought a mighty struggle to control himself and the situation. More firmly, he said, ‘You had best return to your rooms, now.’

  They rose slowly from the sleeping pallet, each intensely aware of the other. Pug held her hand a moment longer, then released it. He bent and retrieved her cloak, holding it for her as she slipped into it. Guiding her to the door, he pulled it open and peered down the steps of the tower. With no hint of anyone nearby, he opened the door fully. She stepped through, then turned. Softly she said, ‘I know you think me a sometimes silly and vain girl, and there are times when I am, Pug. But I do love you.’

  Before he could say a word, she vanished down the stairs, the faint rustling of her cloak echoing in the darkness. Pug quietly closed the door and then put out the lamp. He lay upon his pallet, staring up into the darkness. He could still smell her fresh scent in the air around him, and the remembered touch of her soft body under his hands made them tingle. Now that she was gone and the need for self-control gone with her, he let longing rush through himself. He could see her face alive with desire for him. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he groaned softly to himself and said, ‘I’m going to hate myself tomorrow.’

  Pug awoke to pounding on the door. His first thought as he scrambled toward the door was of the Duke having learned of Carline’s visit. He’s here to hang me! was all he could think. It was still dark outside, so Pug opened the door expecting the worst. Instead of the girl’s angry father leading a company of castle guards, a castle porter stood outside the door.

  ‘Sorry to wake you, Squire, but Master Kulgan wishes you to join him at once,’ he said, pointing up toward Kulgan’s room. ‘At once,’ he repeated, mistaking Pug’s expression of relief for one of sleepy confusion. Pug nodded and shut the door.

  He took stock. He was still dressed, having fallen asleep again without undressing. He stood quietly as his pounding heart stilled. His eyes felt as if they were packed with sand, and his stomach was upset, leaving a foul taste in his mouth. He went to his small table and splashed cold water on his face, muttering that he would never have another cup of ale again.

  Pug reached Kulgan’s room and found the magician standing over a pile of personal belongings and books. Sitting on a stool by the magician’s sleeping pallet was Father Tully. The priest watched the magician adding to the steadily growing pile and said, ‘Kulgan, you can’t take all those books along. You would need two pack mules for them, and where you would keep them
aboard ship where they would do you any good is beyond me.’

  Kulgan looked at two books he held, like a mother regarding her young. ‘But I must take them along to further the boy’s education.’

  ‘Pah! So you’ll have something to mull over around the campfires and aboard ship, more likely. Spare me excuses. You will be riding hard to clear the South Pass before it is snowed in. And who can read in a ship crossing the Bitter Sea in winter? The boy will only be away from his studies a month or two. He’ll have over eight years more study after that. Give him a rest.’

  Pug was perplexed by the conversation and tried to ask a question, but was ignored by the two old companions as they bickered. After several more remonstrations from Tully, Kulgan surrendered. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ he said, tossing the books onto his pallet. He saw Pug waiting by the door and said, ‘What? Still here?’

  Pug said, ‘You haven’t told me why you sent for me yet, Kulgan.’

  ‘Oh?’ Kulgan said, eyes blinking wide like those of a barn owl caught in a bright light. ‘I haven’t?’ Pug nodded. ‘Well, then. The Duke orders us ready to ride at first light. The dwarves have not answered, but he will not wait. The North Pass is almost certain to be closed, and he fears snow in the South Pass.’ Kulgan said as an aside, ‘Which he should. My weather nose tells me snow is nearly here. We are in for an early and hard winter.’

  Tully shook his head as he stood up. ‘This from the man who predicted drought seven years ago, when we had the worst flooding in memory. Magicians! Charlatans, all of you.’ He walked slowly to the door, then stopped to look at Kulgan, his mock irritation replaced by genuine concern. ‘Though you are right this time, Kulgan. My bones ache deeply. Winter is upon us.’

  Tully left and Pug asked, ‘We’re leaving?’

  With exasperation, Kulgan said, ‘Yes! I just said so, didn’t I? Get your things together and quickly. Dawn’s less than an hour away.’

  Pug turned to leave, when Kulgan said, ‘Oh, a moment, Pug.’

  The magician crossed to the door and glanced through it, ensuring Tully was down the stairs and out of earshot. Kulgan turned to Pug and said, ‘I have no fault to find with your behavior . . . but should you in the future find yourself with another late-night caller, I suggest you not subject yourself to further . . . testing. I’m not so sure you would do as well a second time.’

  Pug blanched. ‘You heard?’

  Kulgan pointed to a spot where the floor and wall met. ‘That fire-pot thing of yours exits the wall a foot below there, and it seems a marvelous conduit for sound.’ Absently he said, ‘I’ll have to look to see how it conducts sound so well when we return.’ Returning to the boy, he said, ‘In any event, I was working late and didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard every word.’ Pug flushed. Kulgan said, ‘I don’t mean to embarrass you, Pug. You acted rightly and showed surprising wisdom.’ Putting his hand upon Pug’s shoulder, he said, ‘I’m not one to advise you in such matters, I fear, as I’ve had scant experience with women, of any age, let alone such young and headstrong ones.’ Looking Pug in the eyes, he said, ‘But this much I do know, it is almost impossible in the heat of the moment to understand long-term consequences. I am proud you were able to do this.’

  Pug smiled self-consciously. ‘It was easy enough, Kulgan, I just kept my mind focused on something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Capital punishment.’

  Kulgan laughed, a sharp barking sound, then said, ‘Very well, but the potential for disaster would be as high for the Princess, too, Pug. A citybred noblewoman of the eastern court may indulge herself in as many lovers of any rank that she can enjoy while maintaining discretion, but the only daughter of a frontier duke who is so closely related to the king has no such luxury. She must be above suspicion in all things. Even suspicion could harm Carline. One who cares for her would take that into consideration. Do you understand?’

  Pug nodded, fully relieved now that he had resisted temptation the night before.

  ‘Good, I know you’ll be careful in the future.’ Kulgan smiled. ‘And don’t mind old Tully. He’s just cross because the Duke ordered him to stay behind. He still thinks he’s as young as his acolytes. Now run along and get ready. Dawn’s less than an hour away.’

  Pug nodded and hurried off, leaving Kulgan to regard the piles of books before him. With regret he picked the nearest one up and placed it on a nearby shelf. After a moment he grabbed another and stuffed it into a sack. ‘Just one won’t cause any harm,’ he said to the invisible specter of Tully shaking his head in disapproval. He put the rest of the books back on the shelf, save the last volume, which he shoved into the sack. ‘All right, then,’ he said defiantly, ‘two!’

  • CHAPTER EIGHT •

  Journey

  A LIGHT WET SNOW WAS FALLING.

  Pug shivered under his greatcloak, sitting astride his horse. He had been in the saddle for the last ten minutes, waiting as the rest of the Duke’s company made ready.

  The courtyard filled with hurrying, shouting men, lashing supplies onto the balky mules of the baggage train. Dawn was just commencing, giving the courtyard a little color instead of the blacks and grey that had greeted Pug when he came from the tower. Porters had already carried his baggage down and were securing it among the other items being brought along.

  A panicked ‘Whoa!’ erupted behind Pug, and he turned to see Tomas pulling frantically at the reins of a spirited bay, his head tossing high. Like Pug’s own sleek, light war-horse, he was a far cry from the old draft animal they had ridden to the site of the shipwreck. ‘Don’t pull so hard,’ Pug shouted. ‘You’ll saw at his mouth and make him mad. Pull back gently and release a couple of times.’

  Tomas did, and the horse quieted down, moving alongside Pug’s own. Tomas sat as if the saddle had nails sticking through it. His face was a study in concentration as he tried to guess what the horse would do next.

  ‘If you hadn’t been walking post yesterday, you could have gone riding, getting in some practice. Now I’ll have to teach you as we go.’

  Tomas looked thankful for the promise of aid. Pug smiled. ‘By the time we reach Bordon, you’ll be riding like the King’s Lancers.’

  ‘And walking like a ruptured spinster.’ Tomas shifted in the saddle. ‘Already I feel like I’ve been sitting on a stone block for hours. After just a little way from the saddling post.’

  Pug jumped down from his horse and looked over Tomas’s saddle, making Tomas move his leg so he could examine under the saddle flap, then asked, ‘Who saddled this horse for you?’

  ‘Rulf. Why?’

  ‘I thought so. He’s paying you back for threatening him about that sword, or because we’re friends. He doesn’t dare threaten me anymore, now that I’m a Squire, but he thinks nothing of knotting your stirrup leathers. A couple of hours riding like this, and you’d be standing at meals for a month, if you didn’t get pitched on your head and killed. Here, get down and I’ll show you.’

  Tomas dismounted, halfway between a leap and a fall. Pug showed him the knots. ‘They would have rubbed the inside of your thighs raw by the end of the day. And they’re not long enough.’ Pug took out the knots and adjusted the leathers to the proper length. ‘It’s going to feel very strange for a while, but you’ve got to keep your heels down. I’ll remind you until you’re sick of hearing it, but it’ll keep you out of trouble when you do it without thought. And don’t try to grip with your knees; that’s wrong, and it’ll make your legs so sore, you’ll hardly be able to walk by tomorrow.’ He went on with a few basic instructions and inspected the cinch, which was loose. He tried tightening it, and the horse sucked air. Pug struck the gelding a blow in the side, and the animal exhaled sharply. Pug quickly pulled the cinch strap and said, ‘Sometime today, you most likely would have found yourself listing to one side, a most discomforting position.’

  ‘That Rulf!’ Tomas turned toward the stable. ‘I’ll thrash him within an inch of death!’

  Pug grabbed his f
riend’s arm. ‘Wait. We don’t have time for brawling.’

  Tomas stood with fists clenched, then relaxed with a relieved sigh. ‘I’m in no condition for fighting, anyway.’ He turned to see Pug inspecting the horse.

  Pug shook his head, then winced. ‘Me too.’ He finished inspecting the saddle and bridle, and the horse shied. Pug gentled the horse. ‘Rulf’s also given you a temperamental mount. This fellow would have probably thrown you before noon, and be halfway back to the stable before you hit the ground. With sore legs and shortened stirrup leathers, you never would have stood a chance. I’ll trade with you.’ Tomas looked relieved and struggled into the saddle of the other horse. Pug readjusted the stirrups for both riders. ‘We can swap our travel rolls when we take our noon meal.’ Pug then soothed the high-strung war-horse and climbed nimbly into the saddle. Feeling surer hands at the reins, and a firm leg on either side, the gelding quieted.

  ‘Ho! Martin,’ shouted Tomas as the Duke’s Huntmaster walked into view. ‘Are you traveling with us?’

  A wry grin split the face of the hunter, who was wearing his heavy green cloak over his forester’s leathers. ‘For a short while, Tomas. I’m to lead some trackers around the boundaries of Crydee. I’ll be heading due eastward when we come to the south branch of the river. Two of my trackers were on their way an hour ago, breaking trail for the Duke.’

  ‘What do you think of this Tsurani business, Martin?’ Pug asked.

  The still-youthful Huntmaster’s face clouded. ‘If elves are given to worry, there is something to worry over.’ He turned toward the front of the assembling line. ‘Excuse me, I must instruct my men.’ He left the boys sitting alone.