The Complete Legends of the Riftwar Trilogy

by Raymond E. Feist

  His voice trailed off for a moment.

  ‘It was my wedding day, the assault coming just before dusk. Everyone from the village and the keep was in the great hall when one of the sentries came rushing in, screaming that an enemy host was attacking. Before we could even pick up our arms your men were already scaling the walls. Within minutes we lost the gate and the assault on the great hall began. We blocked the entryway, but you set the roof afire.’

  Again there was a long silence.

  ‘I should have died that night.’

  ‘You didn’t, though.’

  Dennis looked over suspiciously at Asayaga.

  ‘No insult, Hartraft. Fate decreed differently is all I mean.’

  ‘My father and grandfather barricaded the main door, then both ordered Gwenynth and me to flee through the escape-way, saying that someone had to get help. I refused.’ He stopped for a moment, looking up at the tree tops. ‘Something struck me from behind. I always suspected it was Jurgen, although right up till his death he never admitted to the deed. I awoke outside the keep, with Jurgen and a few dozen of our men.’

  ‘And Gwenynth?’

  ‘She was kneeling over me, wiping my face when a bolt winged in from the dark.’ He lowered his head. ‘She died in my arms.’

  ‘Hartraft, though my words might ring hollow, I am sorry. War should be an honourable affair between men who chose to fight.’

  Dennis, head still lowered, snorted derisively. ‘Tsurani, when was the last time you saw a city burn, or a village overrun by starving troops, or the body of a girl lying in the snow, the crossbow bolt in her back a blessed release from her agony?’

  ‘I know,’ Asayaga whispered. ‘I know.’

  ‘We knew that you, the Tsurani, were coming, but thought you were still days away. Gwenynth and I were pledged to marry and we changed the date to the night before my departure for the wars. My grandfather had patrols ranging forward to guard the passes into our valley and to give warning of any approach, but no warning ever came. How and why the patrol guarding the pass failed us I don’t know.’

  Asayaga stirred uncomfortably. ‘I was not there, I have sworn that to you, Hartraft.’

  Dennis nodded.

  ‘And yet I heard something about it.’

  ‘What?’ Now his gaze was firmly locked on Asayaga.

  ‘The attack-column found four of your men dead in the pass leading to your valley. I remember one of the Strike Leaders talking about it. He said one had a dagger in his back, the others no wounds, and he suspected poison.’

  ‘I never heard this,’ Dennis said coldly.

  ‘I only tell you what I heard around a campfire long afterwards.’

  Dennis sat wrapped in silence and Asayaga could see that this bit of news, which had waited for eight long years to be delivered, came as a profound shock.

  ‘And this Strike Leader? Is he still alive?’

  Asayaga shook his head. ‘Dead. It’s believed you killed him in one of your ambushes three years ago.’

  ‘Good.’ The single word was spoken with a cold icy satisfaction.

  ‘It doesn’t change what happened,’ Asayaga said, and he struggled to control his own anger, for the commander of a hundred had been of his clan.

  ‘To me it does.’

  ‘And when you’ve killed the last Tsurani who was in that battle, then what? By the gods, they’re likely all dead by now anyhow. Dead in battle, dead from the coughing sickness, frozen, drowned; or gone mad and wandered off into the forests. This war has claimed thousands of my people, Hartraft. When will you be satisfied that you are finished?’

  ‘When we bury the last of you, or you finally flee.’

  ‘We can’t leave.’

  ‘Why? The portal is open: just go.’

  ‘Can you leave?’

  ‘You’re on our land, damn it!’

  ‘Not because I want to be. Like you I have rulers above me. I’m here because my clan ordered it. Do you think I want to be here? You Kingdom soldiers do not even have the faintest glimmer of an idea about all that is behind this. You have no idea of the clans, of the rivalry, of what some call the Great Game, which is behind all of this madness. It goes far beyond you, me, our men, or even this war itself. Only an idealist would be stupid enough to believe that the purpose of this war is simply for us to conquer you. And I dare say that on your side there is more than one prince who would sell his own brother and the thousands who serve beneath him, if it could advance his own position in the game of kings.’ Asayaga looked over at the stag, its eyes blank, the warmth already leaking from its body. ‘We are all pawns, Hartraft, all of us.’ And as he spoke, Asayaga felt shame for allowing his bitterness to show.

  Dennis looked at him and then slowly nodded his head. ‘But your family is safe while mine is dead, my land occupied, my keep in ruins: that is the difference between us, Tsurani.’

  ‘And are you dead as well, Hartraft?’

  Dennis stared at him. ‘Don’t try to get into my soul, Asayaga. You are not my friend, I do not seek your advice. The last one I would allow near me died last month, a Tsurani spear tearing out his heart.’

  ‘I heard Jurgen was a fine warrior: I heard how he saved that young soldier, the one who helps the priest.’

  ‘Not much of an exchange.’

  ‘For the boy it was. He’ll carry that for the rest of his life.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘Three times I’ve had men step in front of me to take an arrow, or a blade that would have killed me. I carry their souls with me.’ Asayaga’s voice was heavy. ‘That is the nature of war, and the love men have for each other in war. In the retreat to this place I saw one of your men risk his life to save one of mine.’

  ‘That does not mean anything. The heat of battle, nothing more.’

  ‘I wonder.’

  ‘I dislike idealists as much as you do, Asayaga. Don’t read more into it than that. I sit beside you now because I must.’

  ‘I don’t want to be your friend either, Hartraft. I don’t befriend those without souls. We are men and as men we admit that vengeance has its place, but to live for that and nothing else? It’s not much of a life, Hartraft, not one that I want any part of.’

  He said the last words sharply, staring directly into Dennis’s eyes and for once he sensed he had hit a mark with this man, for Dennis lowered his gaze. There was a moment of awkward silence between the two men, which was broken at last by the sound of approaching horses. Dennis tensed, hand instinctively reaching to his bow, but Asayaga had already caught a glimpse of the party riding towards them and he stood up.

  Alyssa, long white cape flowing, reined in, a moment later followed by Roxanne with her father riding beside her.

  Asayaga saw the flicker in Alyssa’s eyes and in spite of his struggle for reserve he knew that his tension in her presence showed. The game between them had been going on for weeks, barely a word spoken, but always the veiled glances, the momentary smile, and then almost a studied indifference.

  ‘Your first stag?’ Roxanne asked as she dismounted and walked up to the animal to study it.

  ‘How did you know it was me?’

  ‘Both of you left with a dozen arrows in your quivers and, Tsurani, you now have eleven.’

  Wolfgar laughed. ‘Times I think she should have been born a man!’

  She looked back at her father disdainfully.

  ‘A good kill,’ Roxanne observed, ‘put him on my horse.’

  Without comment, Dennis hoisted the animal and laid it across the haunches of the horse which pranced nervously at the scent of blood until Roxanne went back and with a firm hand on the bridle, stilled the animal.

  ‘You should not be out riding,’ Dennis said, looking over at Wolfgar.

  The old man coughed, leaned over in his saddle and spat. ‘The day is warm enough. I can’t stay cooped up forever. Damn me, if the ride is the end of my life here, well I can only think of a couple of better ways to die, and the preferred method o
f my leaving is one I will not discuss in front of my daughters, so shut up and stop trying to nurse an old man.’

  He leaned over and gently swatted Dennis across the back of the head.

  Asayaga watched the exchange and saw the look in Dennis’s eyes, a momentary warmth for an old lost friend, an absent reaching out to pat Wolfgar on the knee. He could also see Roxanne watching the two of them, but Dennis did not notice, his gaze had shifted instead to Alyssa.

  Asayaga felt a surge of jealousy and it bothered him. Alyssa had, throughout their stay, remained aloof, bearing herself like a princess of the court, required to entertain guests, but obviously feeling that one worthy of her attention had yet to arrive. But at this moment, as she gazed upon him, he wondered. She wore the hint of a smile at Dennis’s attention and then she edged her horse away. She turned as she did so, and looked down at Asayaga.

  ‘A feast tonight, Asayaga, in honour of your first kill. That is an old tradition.’

  He bowed formally. ‘We cannot tonight, my lady. The fasting for the Day of Atonement begins at sundown and lasts till sundown tomorrow.’

  ‘What is this?’ Wolfgar asked.

  ‘Our tradition on the feast day of the god Hilio, the Judge of Life. It is a day set aside for fasting, meditation, and the seeking of atonement for the wrongs committed over the last year.’ He ventured a slight smile at Alyssa. ‘I’m not entirely sure this is the right day, for I have lost some count of time since we encountered Dennis’s forces, but I believe it to be close enough. On our world, it is celebrated with the first rising of the new moon after midwinter. I think the god will be tolerant.’

  ‘Then when your fasting is done,’ Alyssa offered.

  ‘I thank you, my lady.’

  ‘You may choose who shall sit by your side.’

  He smiled. ‘Then of course, my lady, I will ask that it be you.’

  She laughed softly. ‘I am honoured.’

  She turned away, but as she did so, her eyes stayed on him and he felt his heart freeze. It was the subtle sign he had heard poets speak of, the gaze of a woman over her shoulder, the looking back with eyes half-lowered, the indicator that she was indeed interested in him.

  In the nine long years he had been trapped on this world not once had he known such a moment. Like any of the men of his unit he had turned more than once to the camp followers, but that was a deed of the moment, something without meaning. This was different and he wondered if here was someone who could touch his heart after so many years of loneliness.

  The moment vanished like smoke as she slowly trotted away, nonchalantly calling for her father to ride back to the stockade.

  ‘I’ll come back when I’m damn good and ready,’ Wolfgar growled, but even as he spoke his gaze was on Asayaga.

  Asayaga looked around, wondering if Dennis and Roxanne had sensed the moment as well and knew that they had. And then he wondered if Alyssa was simply playing a game of flirtation and that he was reading far too much into what had just happened. Yet he could sense coolness on the part of Dennis, and an almost amused disdain from Roxanne as she lightly sprang into the saddle and set off after her sister, leaving the three men alone.

  Wolfgar watched as the two girls wove through the trees and down the slope, disappearing from view. Asayaga could sense the intense love the old man felt, for a bit of a wistful smile lit his features as if he were remembering something from long ago. He sighed and looked back to see that the two men were watching him and that he had been caught off guard.

  ‘A favour to ask,’ the old man sighed.

  ‘Anything,’ Dennis replied.

  ‘Keep an eye on them.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘No, I don’t think you fully understand. We both know what will happen here soon. Your foes will not leave you here in peace. I would suspect that even now they have watchers on the northern passes.’ As he spoke he pointed to where, through the trees, the distant peaks that rimmed in the valley were clearly visible. The tallest of the pinnacles trailed a wispy streamer of clouds. ‘If they don’t today, they will have them there by the time you’re ready to leave.’

  ‘I have my patrols out,’ Dennis replied. ‘The approaches you told me to picket are watched.’

  ‘Even your patrols will not see everything,’ Wolfgar replied.

  ‘It could be weeks yet, perhaps not until spring,’ Asayaga ventured.

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ Wolfgar replied. ‘I’d like things here to last a bit longer. I’ve had nearly twenty good years in this valley. A strange place for me, who was once the toast of the royal court, to spin out his days.’ He laughed and shook his head. ‘The first few years hiding here, I thought I’d go mad with it. A bunch of drunken louts to sing my ballads to. Oh, they thought me amusing enough – if they hadn’t, someone would have slipped a dagger between my ribs, in-laws are like that. But the years spun out, my two little ones grew, became young ladies and now …’

  His voice trailed off and he lowered his head. Asayaga was startled to see tears in the old man’s eyes.

  ‘You don’t realize just how quickly the years pass until it happens to you. Someone of your years still thinks there’s all the time in the world. Then one day you awake and you see the first wisps of grey in your beard, but you still feel strong enough, you can still tumble a wench and make her laugh come morning, you still think you have the entire world.

  ‘Then, one day, the girls you once so eagerly pursued, why, they are off chasing boys who seem like children to you, for in fact they are children compared to you!’

  ‘You still have the fire in you,’ Asayaga offered, smiling.

  Wolfgar held out a trembling hand. ‘I can barely hold my feasting cup without it slopping over me: it’s been years since I could curl these fingers around a lute, let alone around the plump backside of any of the serving-girls. So don’t lie to me, lad, though I bless you for trying.’

  Wolfgar’s gaze lingered on the mountain tops.

  ‘They’ll come over that pass. It’s hard to defend, too broad at the top. When they hit, take the pass to the west; I doubt if they know of it. Roxanne can guide you. Take everyone with you.’

  ‘You’ll guide us,’ Dennis offered, a note of concern in his voice.

  Wolfgar shook his head. ‘My last wife is buried here. My happiest memories are of this place. No, I think I’ll stay.’

  ‘No.’ Dennis snapped the one word out, his voice filled with bitterness.

  Wolfgar leaned back over, his trembling hand resting on Dennis’s shoulder. Asayaga could see the sudden anguish in Dennis and understood. Here was a man who had no one, who thought himself completely alone, and then by the pure randomness of fate had rediscovered a long-lost friend from his childhood. It would be even harder to lose him again.

  ‘You know it must be,’ Wolfgar offered. ‘I would only slow you down and the first night in the cold would most likely kill me anyhow. I’d prefer to die in my own feasting hall, my written ballads spread on the table before me, a good cup of mead in my hand.’

  Dennis, sensing Asayaga’s gaze, turned away, head lowered. ‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘You’re right, damn it. I’m sorry we ever found this place.’

  ‘I’m not. The war is spreading this way. Things in the north are stirring. It would have only been a matter of time before they came here. I think it a blessing. I know my girls will be safe, the other women and children as well. That was what I have been worried about ever since the men of this place disappeared.’ Wolfgar patted him on the shoulder. ‘That’s why I ask you to protect my girls. I know what happens with girls who march with soldiers. I want better for them than that.’

  He looked over at Asayaga.

  ‘No offence meant.’

  ‘And none taken. You speak as any father would and I swear my oath to you that I shall protect their honour with my sword and life.’

  As he spoke, Asayaga drew his hunting dagger and turned it so that the hilt was pointed towards the old man, thus showing h
is pledge-bond. Wolfgar smiled and bowed formally from the saddle, revealing for a moment the training and breeding of old when he had performed in the courts of kings.

  ‘I know what the two of you intend to do once you’re free of pursuit: to take up your old war again. If the two of you are fate doomed to do that, I ask that you pledge before each other now that whoever survives will see my girls to safety, to somewhere beyond the wars.’

  Dennis’s eyes which had softened for a moment, now glazed over again into hardness.

  ‘I pledge it,’ Dennis said without enthusiasm and Asayaga did likewise.

  Wolfgar noisily cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. ‘Foolish tears of an old man,’ he said huskily.

  He reined his mount around and motioned for the two to fall in by his side. Together they started down the slope to the stockade walking in silence.

  The afternoon was getting late, the sun starting to slip behind the western mountains, the long shadows of the peaks spreading out across the valley. Off to his left Asayaga could see another hunting party coming in, several Kingdom archers followed by half a dozen Tsurani, a couple of his men armed with bows as well.

  The gates of the stockade were open and the bath-house constructed by Asayaga’s men within days after their arrival was a hive of activity, smoke billowing from the chimney, a swarm of naked men spilling out of the doorway, laughing, jumping into the slushy snow – Gregory, who looked almost bear like in their midst, bellowing from the shock. The Kingdom men were all from the north and the ritual of a snow roll after a midwinter’s bath had caught on with the Tsurani. The Kingdom men seemed to be on the verge of addiction to the Tsurani tubs. Unlike Kingdom bathing, where you’d sit in a tub while someone else poured water over your head – often cold – the Tsurani had built large round wooden tubs, large enough to hold half a dozen people each. The water was warmed ingeniously, by heating up large rocks and lowering them into the water in a metal cage, over and over, until the water seemed to be on the verge of scalding. Dennis had almost ordered the project halted when a few of the rocks had exploded upon heating, but Asayaga had insisted it was a common problem on his homeworld and that no one would be in danger once the rock had survived the first heating.