The Complete Krondor’s Sons 2-Book Collection: Prince of the Blood, The King’s Buccaneer. Raymond E. Feist
lack of other gifts. ‘For he has been recalled by the King, so when you get there, you’ll have to rely on your agent in the palace, and your own wits.’
James sighed. ‘Well, at least that rids us of the problem of how to keep the ambassador busy and out from under foot.’
Arutha said, ‘We have two possibilities to consider. Either, someone wants to keep the Empire together, and what better way to avoid a civil war than by plunging the Empire into a major war with a neighbour?’
James finished. ‘Or, someone wants to use a war with the Isles or the threat of a war to pull the Empire apart.’
Gardan said, ‘And the list of those who would delight in seeing Kesh collapse is not short.’
Arutha stood. ‘I’m sending you into another mess, Jimmy. But this one has consequences as dire as any before if mistakes are made. I would not bother to inform you of the obvious, save this time you’re labouring with a grave handicap.’
James smiled. ‘Borric and Erland will be kept on a short leash.’
‘Don’t let them start a war, please?’ Then without another word, he departed, the Duke following after.
James had come to understand Arutha’s moods as well as any outside his family. A mind as complex and deep as the Prince’s was like a chess master’s; Arutha was planning every conceivable outcome as many moves in advance as possible.
James left the room and found Locklear and the twins waiting for him outside the door. ‘We leave early in the morning,’ James informed them.
Borric said, ‘We’re not due to leave for another three days.’
James said, ‘Officially. If your Keshian friend has compatriots about, I would prefer they not know our plans.’ He glanced at Locklear. ‘We’ll slip out of the palace before dawn, and gather at a tavern. Horses and supplies will be waiting for us. A small mounted troop, twenty guards, dressed as mercenaries. Couriers leave in an hour by fast horses. Arutha’s sending word to Shamata we’re going to need fresh mounts and stores enough for two hundred escorts.’
Locklear said, ‘We’ll be arriving in Shamata at the same time as any message and two hundred—’
James cut him off. ‘We’re not going to Shamata. We want any Keshian agents who might be paying attention to think we’ll travel in state to Shamata. But we’re not going to Shamata. We’re going to Stardock.’
DUST SWIRLED.
Twenty-four riders moved at a steady pace along the edge of the Great Star Lake. A week and a half of hard riding had taken them southward from Krondor, to Landreth on the north coast of the Sea of Dreams. Then, from where it entered the sea, the Star River led them further southward, the rugged mountains of the Grey Range always in sight as they entered the lush Vale of Dreams. Years of border wars between the Kingdom and the Empire had seen this rich farming land changing hands many times. Those who lived in this part of the world spoke the languages of the Southern Kingdom and the Northern Empire with equal fluency. And the sight of twenty-four armed mercenaries evoked no notice. Many armed bands of men rode the vale.
At the midpoint of the river, near a small waterfall, they forded the currents, making for the south shore. Upon reaching the headwaters of the Star River, the Great Star Lake, they turned to track the shoreline southward, seeking that point closest to the island dominating the centre of the lake, Stardock. There they would find the ferry that provided passage from the shore to the island.
Along the banks of the shore they passed tiny fishing and farming villages, often no more than an extended family, little groups of huts and cottages, but all looking prosperous and well tended. The community of magicians upon Stardock had grown over the years, and now other communities had developed to meet the demands for food of those upon the island.
Borric urged his horse forward, as they rounded a small promontory of land, bringing them their first clear view of the large building upon the island. It nearly shone in the orange light of the sunset, while the advancing night behind turned the distant sky violet and grey. ‘Gods and demons, Uncle Jimmy, look at the size of that place!’
James nodded. ‘I had heard they were building a massive centre for learning, but the tales never did it justice.’
Locklear said, ‘Duke Gardan visited here many years ago. He told me they had laid a huge foundation for the building … but this is larger than anything I’ve seen.’
Glancing at the falling light, James said, ‘If we hurry, we’ll make the island within the next two hours. I’d rather a warm meal and clean bed than another night on the trail.’ Setting heels to his horse’s sides, he moved on.
Under a canopy of brilliant stars on one of the rare nights when all three moons had yet to rise, they passed through a small gap between hillocks and entered a prosperous-looking town. Torches and lanterns blazed at every storefront – an extravagance in all but the wealthiest of towns and cities – and children ran after them, shouting and laughing in the general confusion. Beggars and prostitutes asked favours or offered them respectively, and ramshackle taverns stood open to provide the weary traveller with a cool drink, hot meal, and warm company.
Locklear shouted over the noise, ‘Quite a prosperous little metropolis growing here.’
James glanced about at the dirt and squalor. ‘Quite. The blessings of civilization,’ he observed.
Borric said, ‘Perhaps we should investigate one of these small pubs—’
‘No,’ answered James. ‘They’re certain to offer you refreshments at the Academy.’
Erland smiled ruefully. ‘A sweet and slightly feeble wine, no doubt. What else would one expect from an assemblage of old scholars, poking around in musty piles of manuscripts.’
James shook his head. They came to what was obviously the crossroads of the two main streets in the town and turned toward the lake. As James expected, down near the waterfront a large pier had been constructed and several ferries of differing sizes waited to haul goods and people to the island. Despite the late hour, workers still stacked sacks of grain against the need of hauling them the next morning.
Reining in, James called down to the nearest ferryman, ‘Good evening. We seek passage to Stardock island.’
A face, dominated by a hawk-beaked nose, with ill-cut bangs almost hiding the eyes, was revealed as the man glanced over his shoulder and said, ‘I can make one quick run across, sir. Five coppers a man, sir, but you need stable your horses here.’
Jimmy smiled. ‘How about ten gold pieces for the lot of us, including the mounts?’
The man returned to his work. ‘No bargaining, sir.’
Borric rattled his sword a bit as he said, half-jokingly, ‘What, you turn your back upon us?’
The man turned again to face them. Touching his forehead, in slightly sarcastic tones, he said, ‘Sorry, young sir, but no disrespect was intended.’
Borric was about to respond, when James tapped his arm with a gloved hand and pointed. In the gloom, just out of the light of a guttering torch, a young man in a plain robe of homespun sat at the dockside watching the interplay calmly.
Borric said, ‘What?’
‘The local constable, I expect.’
‘Him?’ said Borric. ‘He looks more a beggar or monk than any sort of fighting man.’
The ferryman nodded. ‘Right you are, sir. He’s our Peacekeeper.’ He grinned up at James. ‘You know your way around,