Silverthorn

by Raymond E. Feist

  Arutha said, ‘What are these Pantathians, brother? I’ve only heard the stories told to frighten children.’

  The old monk shrugged. ‘We know little, in truth. Most of the intelligent races on Midkemia we can, in some way, understand. Even the moredhel, the Brotherhood of the Dark Path, have some traits in common with humanity. You know, they have a rather rigid code of honour, though it is an odd sort by our standards. But these creatures …’ He closed the book. ‘Where Pantathia lies, no one knows. The copies of the maps left by Macros that Kulgan of Stardock sent us show no sign of it. These priests have magics unlike any other. They are the avowed enemies of humanity, though they have dealt with some humans in the past. One thing else is clear, they are beings of undiluted evil. For them to serve this Murmandamus would mark him a foe of all that is good if nothing else did. And that they serve him also marks him a power to fear.’

  Arutha said. ‘Then we know little more than what we knew by Laughing Jack’s report.’

  ‘True,’ said the monk, ‘but never discount the worth of knowing he spoke the truth. Knowing what things are not is often as important as knowing what they are.’

  Arutha said, in all the confusion, have you discovered anything about Silverthorn?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, I have. I was going to send word as soon as I finished reading this passage. I have little help to offer, I am afraid.’ Upon hearing this, Arutha’s heart sank in his chest, but he indicated the old monk should continue. ‘The reason I could not quickly bring to mind this Silverthorn is that the name given is a translation of the name with which I am more familiar.’ He opened another book lying close by. ‘This is the journal of Geoffrey, son of Caradoc, a monk at the Abbey of Silban west of Yabon – the same one your brother Martin was reared at, though this was several hundred years ago. Geoffrey was a botanist of sorts and spent his idle hours in cataloguing what he could of the local flora. Here I’ve found a clue. I’ll read it. “The plant, which is called Elleberry by the elves, is also known to the people of the hills as Sparkle Thorn. It is supposed to have magic properties when utilized correctly, though the proper means of distillation of the essences of the plant is not commonly known, being required of arcane ritual beyond the abilities of common folk. It is rare in the extreme, having been seen by few living today. I have never beheld the plant, but those with whom I have spoken are most reliable in their knowledge and certain of the plant’s existence.”’ He closed the book.

  ‘Is that all?’ asked Arutha. ‘I had hoped for a cure, or at least some clue as to how one might be discovered.’

  ‘But there is a clue,’ said the old monk with a wink. ‘Geoffrey, who was more of a gossip than a botanist, attributed the name Elleberry to the plant, as an elven name. This is obviously a corruption of aelebera, an elven word that translates to “silverthorn”! Which means that should any know its magic properties and how to overcome them, it is the Spellweavers of Elvandar.’

  Arutha was silent for a while, then said, ‘Thank you, Brother Anthony. I had prayed to end my search here, but at least you’ve not dashed all hope.’

  The old monk said, ‘There is always hope, Arutha conDoin. I suspect that, in all the confusion, the Abbot never got around to telling you the main reason for our gathering all this.’ His hand waved about him, indicating the masses of books everywhere. ‘The reason we gather all these works in this mount is hope. Of prophecy and portents there are many, but one speaks of the end of all we know. It states that when all else has succumbed to the forces of darkness, all that will be left will be “that which was Sarth”. Should that prophecy come true, we hope to save the seeds of knowledge that can again serve man. We work against that day, and pray it will never come.’

  Arutha said, ‘You’ve been kind, Brother Anthony.’

  ‘A man helps when he may.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Arutha left the chamber and climbed the stairs, his mind playing over what he knew. He considered his options until he reached the courtyard. Laurie had joined Jimmy and Martin, as had Dominic, who seemed to have recovered from his ordeal, though he was still pale.

  Laurie greeted the Prince and said, ‘Gardan should be well enough tomorrow.’

  ‘Good, for we leave Sarth at first light.’

  ‘What do you propose?’ said Martin.

  ‘I’m going to put Gardan on the first ship bound from Sarth for Krondor, and we’ll continue on.’

  ‘Continue on where?’ asked Laurie.

  ‘Elvandar.’

  Martin smiled, it will be good to visit there again.’

  Jimmy sighed; Arutha said, ‘What is it?’

  ‘I was just thinking of your palace cooks and bony horsebacks.’

  Arutha said, ‘Well, don’t think on them too long; you’re returning to Krondor with Gardan.’

  ‘And miss all the fun?’

  Laurie said to Martin, ‘This lad has a definitely warped sense of fun.’

  Jimmy started to speak, but Dominic said, ‘Highness, if I may travel with your captain, I wish to journey to Krondor.’

  ‘Of course, but what of your duties?’

  ‘Another will take my office. I will not be fit for that sort of duty for some time, and we cannot wait. There is no shame or dishonour; it is simply necessary.’

  ‘Then I am sure Jimmy and Gardan will welcome your company.’

  ‘Wait –’ began Jimmy.

  Ignoring the boy, Arutha asked the monk, ‘What sends you to Krondor?’

  ‘Simply that it lies on my route to Stardock. Father John thinks it vital we should inform Pug and the other magicians of what we know to be occurring. They practise mighty arts unavailable to us.’

  ‘That is well taken. We have need of all the allies we can muster. I should have considered that myself. I will give you some additional intelligence to take to them, if you don’t mind. And I’ll have Gardan escort you down to Stardock.’

  ‘That would be kind.’

  Jimmy had been trying to be heard as he protested being sent back to Krondor. Ignoring his protests, Arutha said to Laurie, ‘Take our aspiring young duke here and go down to town and find a ship. We’ll follow tomorrow. Also see about some fresher mounts, and don’t get into trouble.’

  Arutha walked away towards the barracks with Dominic and Martin, leaving Laurie and Jimmy in the courtyard. Jimmy was still trying to make himself heard, and was saying, ‘… but …’

  Laurie clapped Jimmy on the shoulder and said, ‘Come along, “Your Grace”. Let’s get down the road. If we can finish our business early, we’ll see if we can find a game at the inn.’

  An evil light seemed to come into Jimmy’s eyes at that. ‘Game?’ he said.

  ‘You know, something like pashawa, or over-under-man-in-between. Knucklebones or stones. Gambling.’

  ‘Oh,’ said the boy. ‘You’ll have to show me how.’

  As he turned for the stable, Laurie fetched him a kick in the rump, propelling him along. ‘Show you how, indeed. I’m not some rube in from the farmlands here. I heard that the first time I lost my poke.’

  Running forward, Jimmy laughed, it was worth a try!’

  Arutha entered the darkened room. Looking down at the figure on the bed, he said, ‘You sent for me?’

  Micah raised himself up and leant back against the wall. ‘Yes. I hear you’re leaving this hour. Thank you for coming.’ He indicated Arutha should sit upon the bed. ‘I need a little sleep, but I’ll be fit enough in a week or so.

  ‘Arutha, your father and I were friends as youngsters. Caldric was just establishing the practice of bringing squires to court that’s now taken for granted. We were quite a bunch. Brucal of Yabon was our Senior Squire, and he ran us ragged. In those days we were a fiery crew, your father, myself, and Guy du Bas-Tyra.’ At mention of Guy’s name, Arutha stiffened but said nothing. ‘I like to think we were the backbone of the Kingdom in our day. Now you are. Borric did well with you and Lyam, and Martin brings no shame. I am now serving Ishap, but I still love
this Kingdom, son. I just wanted you to know my prayers are with you.’

  Arutha said, ‘Thank you, my lord Dulanic.’

  He eased himself on his pillows. ‘No longer. I’m just a simple monk now. By the way, who rules in your place?’

  ‘Lyam is in Krondor and will remain until I return. Volney acts as Chancellor.’

  At this Micah laughed, which brought a wince of pain. ‘Volney! Ishap’s teeth! He must hate it.’

  ‘He does,’ said Arutha with a smile.

  ‘You going to have Lyam name him Duke?’

  ‘I don’t know. As much as he protests, he’s the most able administrator available. We lost some good young men during the Riftwar.’ Arutha smiled his crooked smile. ‘Jimmy suggests I name him Duke of Krondor.’

  ‘Don’t sell that one short, Arutha. Train him while you have him. Pile the responsibility on him until he yells, and give him more. Educate him well, then take stock. He’s a rare one.’

  Arutha said, ‘Why is this, Micah? Why this concern for matters you’ve put behind?’

  ‘Because I’m a vain old man and a sinner, despite my repentance. I still admit to pride in how my city fares. And because you’re your father’s son.’

  Arutha was silent for a long time, then he said, ‘You and Father were close, weren’t you?’

  ‘Very. Only Guy was closer to Borric.’

  ‘Guy!’ Arutha couldn’t believe his father’s most hated enemy could have ever once been his friend. ‘How is that possible?’

  Micah studied Arutha. ‘I thought your father would have told you before he died.’ He was silent for a long moment. ‘Then again, Borric wouldn’t.’ He sighed. ‘We who were friends to both your father and Guy, we all took a vow. We vowed never to speak of the shame which caused them to end the closest of friendships, and which caused Guy to wear black every day for the rest of his life, earning him the name Black Guy.’

  Arutha said, ‘Father once mentioned that strange act of personal courage, though he had no other good to speak of Guy.’

  ‘He wouldn’t. And I will not either, for Guy would have to release me from the vow, or be proved dead, before I would speak. But I can say that before that schism they were as brothers. Whether wenching, brawling, or in war, neither was more than a voice’s call from the other’s aid.

  ‘But look you, Arutha. You have to rise early, and you must get rested. You’ve no more time to idle away over matters long buried. You must be off to find a cure for Anita …’ The old man’s eyes misted over, and Arutha realized that in his own dark concern for her he had ignored the fact that Micah had always been a member of Erland’s household. He had known her since birth. She would be like a granddaughter to him.

  Micah swallowed hard. ‘These damn ribs! Breathe deeply and your eyes water like you’re eating raw onion.’ He let out a long sigh. ‘I held her in my arms when the priests of Sung the White blessed her, less than an hour after her birth.’ His eyes took on a far-off look; he turned his face away and said, ‘Save her, Arutha.’

  ‘I will find a cure.’

  Whispering to control his emotions, Micah said, ‘Then go, Arutha. Ishap protect you.’

  Arutha squeezed the old monk’s hand for a moment, rose, and left his quarters. Walking across the main hall of the abbey building, he was intercepted by a silent monk who indicated he should follow. He was led to the Abbot’s quarters and found the Abbot and Brother Anthony waiting for him.

  ‘It is good you took time to visit with Micah, Highness,’ said the Abbot.

  Suddenly Arutha became alarmed. ‘Micah will recover, won’t he?’

  ‘If Ishap wills it. He is an old man to be withstanding such an ordeal.’

  Brother Anthony seemed incensed by the notion and almost snorted. The Abbot ignored the sound and said, ‘We have given some thought to a problem that needs be dealt with.’ He pushed a small case towards Arutha, who reached over and lifted it from the table.

  The case was clearly ancient, of delicately carved wood, and time had worn it almost smooth. When it was opened it revealed a velvet cushion upon which rested a small talisman. It was a bronze hammer, a miniature of that which Micah had carried, a thong passing through a tiny hole in the haft. ‘What is it?’

  Anthony said, ‘You must have considered how your foe was able to locate you seemingly at will. It is likely that some agency, perhaps the serpent priest, had located you with a scrying spell of one sort or another. That talisman is a legacy from our ancient past. It was fashioned at the oldest known enclave of our faith, the Ishapian abbey at Leng. It is the most powerful artifact we possess. It will mask your movements from all scrying magic. To any who have been following you by arcane means, you will simply vanish from sight. We have no protection from mundane eyes, but if you are cautious and mask your identity, you should be able to reach Elvandar without being intercepted. But never remove it, or you will again be subject to location by sorcery. It will also render you impervious to the sort of attack we endured last night. Such a creature would be unable to harm you – though your enemy may still strike through those about you, for they will not be so protected.’

  Arutha placed the talisman around his neck and said, ‘Thank you.’

  The Abbot rose. ‘Ishap protect you, Highness, and know you may always find haven here at Sarth.’

  Arutha said thank you again and left the Abbot. As he returned to his quarters and finished rolling his travel bundle, he considered what he had learned. Pushing doubt aside, he determined once again to save Anita.

  • Chapter Twelve •

  Northward

  A lone rider raced up the road.

  Arutha looked back as Martin warned of the approaching horseman. Laurie turned his horse, drawing his sword, as Martin began to laugh. Arutha said, if that’s who I think, I’ll have his ears.’

  Martin said, ‘Then sharpen your knife, brother, for look at the way those elbows flap as he rides.’

  Within moments Martin’s prediction proved correct, for a grinning Jimmy reined in. Arutha took no pains to hide his displeasure. He said to Laurie, ‘I thought you told me he was safely upon the ship for Krondor with Gardan and Dominic.’

  Laurie looked on with an expression of helplessness. ‘He was, I swear.’

  Jimmy looked at the three, isn’t anyone going to say hello?’

  Martin tried to look serious, but even his elven-learned composure was being tested. Jimmy had all the ingenuousness of an eager puppy, as false a pose as most others he assumed, and Arutha was trying hard to keep a stern demeanour. Laurie hid his laughter behind a quickly raised hand and a cough.

  Arutha shook his head, looking down at the ground. Finally he said, ‘All right, what is the tale?’

  Jimmy said, ‘First of all, I swore an oath; it might not mean much to you, but it is still an oath, and it binds us “until the cat is skinned.” And there was one other little thing.’

  Arutha said, ‘What was it?’

  ‘You were being watched while you left Sarth.’

  Arutha sat back in the saddle, as startled by the boy’s offhand tone as much as by the revelation. ‘How can you be certain?’

  ‘In the first, the man was known to me. He’s a certain merchant from Questor’s View, by name Havram, who is in fact a smuggler employed by the Mockers. He’s been absent since the Nighthawks’ infiltration was made known to the Upright Man, and he was in the inn where Gardan, Dominic, and I waited for the ship. I went aboard ship with the good captain and the monk and slipped over the side just before they weighed anchor. Then, in the second, the man was without the normal retinue he employed when working at his normal trade. He is usually a vocal, affable man, given to public display when acting the merchant, but in Sarth he lurked under a heavy cowl and hugged dark corners. He would not be in such a place, ignoring his usual role, unless forced to by unusual circumstances. And he followed you from the inn, until he was clear as to which way you had ridden. But most important of all, he was an ofttime companion o
f both Laughing Jack and Golden Dase.’

  Martin said, ‘Havram! That was the man Laughing Jack said recruited Golden and him to the Nighthawks.’

  ‘They’ll be relying on spies and agents now that they can’t use magic to find you,’ added Laurie. ‘It makes sense they had someone in Sarth waiting for you to come down from the Abbey.’

  ‘Did he see you leave?’ asked the Prince.

  Jimmy laughed. ‘No, but I saw him leave.’ They all looked at him with questions on their faces, and the boy said, ‘I took care of him.’

  ‘You did what?’

  Jimmy looked pleased with himself. ‘Even a town as small as Sarth has its underside if you know where to look. Using my reputation as a Mocker of Krondor, I made myself known and established my bona fides. Certain people who wish to remain anonymous were made to understand I knew who they were – and would be willing to neglect mentioning it to the local garrison in exchange for a service. As they thought I still enjoyed a favoured position in the Mockers, they chose not to deposit me in the bay, especially when I sweetened the deal with a small pouch of gold I carried. I then mentioned there was not a single person in the Western Realm who would miss a certain merchant taking his ease at the inn. They took my meaning. The false merchant is most likely on his way to Kesh via the Durbin slave route even as we speak, learning the finer points of menial labour.’

  Laurie slowly shook his head. ‘The boy has a definite hard edge to him.’

  Arutha heaved a resigned sigh, ‘It seems I am again in your debt, Jimmy.’

  Jimmy said, ‘There’s a small caravan coming up the coast about an hour behind. If we ride slowly they may overtake us by nightfall. We could most likely hire on as additional guards and ride in with wagons and a few other mercenaries when Murmandamus is out looking for the three riders who left Sarth.’