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Authors: Raymond Feist

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BOOK: Prince of the Blood
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Pug bid them good night and the twins quickly found
the food waiting for them in their cells. Up and down the hall the night was full of the noise of soldiers shedding traveling armor and arms, splashing water, and the clink of knives against serving plates. Soon all were gone from the hall, save a puzzled-looking Locklear standing next to James. “What ails you?”

James shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. Tired, or …” He let his voice trail off. He thought of Kulgan’s age and Katala’s less than healthy appearance. “It’s just that the years have not been kind to some fine people.” Then his manner brightened. “Or it could be my youthful crimes coming back to haunt me. I’m just not comfortable with the idea of spending the night in any room referred to as a ‘cell.’ ”

With a wry smile and a nod of agreement, Locklear bid his companion good night. A moment later, James stood alone in the long, empty hall. Something was not right. But he left that feeling for the next day. Now he needed food and a wash.

With the sound of a bird chirping outside his window, James awoke. As was his habit, the young Baron of the Prince’s court rose before the sun. To his surprise, he discovered his clothing had been washed and folded and left just inside his door. A light sleeper by nature and quick to full wakefulness by training, he was discomforted that anyone could have opened his door and not disturbed him. James pulled on the clean tunic and trousers, forgoing the heavy traveling boots. Since childhood he had preferred bare feet, and over the years it had become something of a common joke among the palace staff that should one enter Baron James’s office, one was likely to find his boots removed and tucked away under his desk.

He made his way to the outer doorway, moving soundlessly. He was certain that everyone else was still asleep,
but his stealth was not born of consideration. It was habitual. As a boy in the Poor Quarter of the city, James had earned his livelihood as a thief, and moving without sound was second nature.

Opening the outside door, he slipped through and closed it silently behind. The sky had already turned slate-grey and the eastern horizon was showing the blush of the approaching sunrise. The only sounds were the calling of birds and the thud of a single axe falling, as someone cut wood for an early morning fire. James moved away from the huge building of the Academy and made his way along the path that led to the village.

The sound of wood being cut fell away as that unknown farmer or fisherman’s wife finished the task. After a hundred yards, the path diverged, one part heading toward the village while a smaller path led toward the lakeshore. James decided he was in little mood for idle morning chatter with townspeople, so he moved toward the water.

In the gloom he almost didn’t see the black-robed figure until he was nearly upon him. Pug turned and smiled. He pointed eastward. “This is my favorite part of the day.”

James nodded. “I thought I’d be the first up.”

Pug kept his eyes fastened upon the horizon. “No, I sleep very little.”

“The wear doesn’t show. I don’t think you look a day older than when I last saw you seven years ago.”

Pug nodded. “There are things about myself I am just discovering, James. When I took upon myself the mantel of Sorcerer …” His voice trailed off. “We’ve never really talked, have we?”

James shook his head. “We’ve had our share of interesting conversations, Pug, but not about anything profound, if that’s what you mean. Not anything that wasn’t related to the business of the state, is what I’m saying. It’s not exactly as if our paths cross frequently. We first
met at Arutha and Anita’s wedding”—he ticked off on his fingers as he spoke—“and again after the battle at Sethanon.” Both men glanced at each other and nothing needed to be said between them about the cataclysmic battle that had taken place there. “Then twice since in Krondor.” Neither spoke of the last two encounters, for not only had state secrets involving a secret society of assassins, and then a mission to recover a stolen Ishapian artifact of critical importance, and dark magic been involved, but they had lost someone special to them both—a student of Pug’s who had become a close friend of James’s.

Pug returned his attention to the east, where the first hot pink and orange of the sun’s rays struck the clouds. “When I was a boy I lived in Crydee. I was nothing more than a Far Coast peasant lad. I worked in the kitchen with my foster family and had ambitions to be a soldier.” He fell silent.

James waited. He had little desire to talk about his past, though it was well enough known to anyone of rank in the city of Krondor, and to everyone in the palace. “I was a thief.”

“Jimmy the Hand,” said Pug. “Yes, but what sort of boy were you?”

James considered the question for a moment, then answered, “Brash. That’s the first word that comes to mind.” He watched as the dawn unfolded. Neither man spoke for several minutes as each saw the fingers of light striking the clouds hanging in the east. The fiery rim of the disc of the sun began to appear. James said, “I … was also foolish at times. Remind me sometime to tell you the story about how I almost destroyed half the keep in Krondor when Guy du Bas-Tyra was Viceroy. One of my first lessons in why it’s wise to leave magic to magicians.” James grinned, then his smile faded and at last he sighed. “I had no idea of there being any limit to what I could do. I have no
doubt that had I continued that existence, I’d have finally taken one big chance too many. I’d most likely be dead by now.”

“Brash,” Pug repeated. “And foolish at times.” He indicated with his head the Academy. “Not unlike the royal twins.”

James smiled. “Not unlike the Princes, though they lack any sense of true risk, I fear. I knew from my earliest days that any misstep could end my life. They are convinced they will live forever.”

“What else?”

James considered. Without false modesty, he said, “Brilliant, I suppose you could say, or gifted at least. Things often seemed obvious to me that confused many of those around me. At least the world seemed a more obvious place then. I’m not so sure I wasn’t a great deal smarter as a boy than I am now as a man.”

Pug motioned that James should walk with him and started slow progress toward the water’s edge. “When I was a boy, my modest ambitions seemed the most splendid things. Now …”

“You seem troubled,” James ventured.

“Not as you would understand it,” Pug answered. James turned and in the grey light saw an unreadable expression on Pug’s face. “Tell me of the attempt upon Borric. You were closest to him.”

James said, “News travels fast.”

“It always does. And any coming conflict between the Kingdom and Kesh is of concern for us.”

“Given your location, I can understand. You are a window upon the Empire.” He gestured south, toward the not-distant border. James told Pug what he knew of the attempt, and finished by saying, “That the assassin was Keshian is hardly in doubt, but all those clues that point to the Royal House of Kesh being at the root of the attempt … it’s too clear. I think someone seeks to dupe us.”
He turned as they lost sight of the town, regarding the upper stories of the Academy. “You have many Keshians here?”

Pug nodded. “And from Roldem, Queg, Olasko, Miskalon, the Peaks of the Quor, and other places. Here we pay little attention to matters of nation. We are concerned with other issues.”

James said, “Those two who met with us last night …”

“Watume and Korsh, yes. They are Keshian. From the city of Kesh itself.” Before James could speak, Pug said, “They are not Imperial agents. I would know. Trust me. They think nothing of politics. In fact, if anything, they are too eager for us to be apart from the rest of the world.”

James turned for a moment, to regard the hulking edifice of the Academy. “This is a Kingdom duchy, at least in name. But many have wondered aloud what it is you build here. There is something about this place that strikes many in the court as odd.”

“And dangerous,” Pug added. James turned to study the magician’s face. “Which is why I work diligently to see that the Academy never partakes in national conflicts. On any side.”

James considered his words. “There are few among the nobility who are as comfortable with the idea of magic as our King and his brother. Growing up with Kulgan in the household as they did, they think nothing about it. But others …”

“Still would see us driven from cities and towns, or hung, or burned at stakes. I know,” Pug said. “In the twenty years we have worked here, much has changed … yet so little has changed.”

Finally James said, “Pug, I feel something odd in you. I detected it last night. What is it?”

Pug’s eyes narrowed as he studied James. “Strange you should observe that, when those closest to me don’t see it.” He reached the edge of the lake and halted. With an
outstretched hand, he pointed. A family of snowy egrets were preening themselves and squawking in the shallow of the lake. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

James could only agree as he took in his surroundings. “This is a beautiful place.”

“It wasn’t so when I first came here,” answered Pug. “The legend is that this lake was formed by a falling star, hence its name. But this island was not the cooled body of that star, which I calculate could have been no larger than this.” He held his hands apart about six inches. “I think the star cracked the crust of the earth and lava rose up to create this island. It was rocky and barren when I first came here, with only a bit of tenacious grass at the water’s edge, and a few hardy bushes here and there. I brought what you see here—the grass, the trees, the animals.” He grinned, and years vanished from his face. “The birds found their own way over.”

James considered the groves of trees nearby and the deep meadow grass he saw everywhere. “A not-inconsiderable feat.”

Pug waved away the comment as if it was a common enough conjurer’s trick. “Will there be war?”

James let out an audible sigh. It held the sound of resignation. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” he asked rhetorically. “No, that’s not the question. There is always war. The question is when and between which nations? If I have any say in the matter, there’ll be no war between the Kingdom and Kesh in my lifetime. But then, I may not have much to say about the matter.”

“You ride a dangerous course.”

“It’s not the first time. I wish circumstances could have spared the Princes the need to go.”

“They are their father’s sons,” observed Pug. “They must go where duty requires. Even if it means risking much to gain little.”

Pug resumed his walk along the shore and James fell into step at his side.

James could only nod at that. “Such is the burden of their birthright.”

“Well,” said Pug, “there are short respites, such as this one, along the way. Why don’t you go over there?” He pointed to a stand of willow trees masking the shore. “On the other side is a small inlet fed by a hot spring. It is a most invigorating experience. Soak in the hot water a bit, then jump into the lake. It will set you right and you can be back in time to join us for the morning meal.”

James smiled. “Thank you, it sounds just the thing. I’m so used to having much work before breaking my fast. A pleasant way to fill an hour or so will be welcomed.”

Pug turned back toward the town and after a few steps said, “Oh, be careful of swimming in the shore grasses. It’s easy to get turned about and lose your way. The wind makes them bend toward the island, so should you get lost, simply swim in that direction until you feel land underfoot. Then walk out.”

“Thank you. I’ll be cautious. Good morning.”

“Good morning, James. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

As Pug returned to the Academy, James headed toward the stand of trees the magician had indicated.

Passing between large boles, pushing aside hanging greenery like a curtain, he discovered a narrow barren path that led down the side of a small dell, toward the lakeshore. Near the water’s edge, he could see steam rising in the morning coolness. James inspected a small pool that was obviously fed from underground, as the steam all rose from that one location only. A small rivulet of water overspilled one side and ran to the shore, joining the lake there. It was but no more than twenty yards from pool to lake. He glanced about. The pool and this small stretch of shoreline were screened on three sides by trees affording him ample privacy. James removed his tunic and trousers
and stuck a foot in the pool. It was almost hotter than he cared for in his own bath! He sank in and let the warmth infuse him, relaxing tense muscles.

Tense muscles? He had only just awoke. Why should he feel tension? His own voice answered, because of the risk in sending two boys to play at a game of Keshian court politics older than the house of conDoin. He sighed. Pug was a strange man but a wise and powerful one; he was an adopted kinsman to the King and a Duke. Perhaps James should ask Pug’s opinion. Then he thought against it. As much as Pug was reputed to have been a savior to the Kingdom in years past, there was something odd about Stardock and the manner in which it was governed. James decided he’d find out as much as possible about what went on here before speaking in confidence to the magician. He wondered if he might contrive of a way to insinuate an agent here, but concluded it highly improbable given Pug’s resources.

BOOK: Prince of the Blood
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