James laughed. ‘‘Actually, it was a minor magical problem.’’
He explained about the Princess Paulina’s amulet and its effect, and finished by saying, ‘‘If my young friend is to be spending time in her company, I think it would be to his benefit if he had some means of resisting her charms.’’
Sophia chuckled at the play on words. ‘‘Charms. I like that.
Well, I have something that may help your friend.’’ She put down the stalls and went to the rear of the cart. She pulled up the tie-down cover she had just fastened and said, ‘‘Wish you said something before I did this,’’ and reached in. She pulled out a small bag and rummaged through it. ‘‘I have an effective potion, but that will only last for a few hours.’’ She held up a small ring. ‘‘But this might do.’’ It was simply fashioned, of a gray-silver metal and was adorned with a single dull red semi-precious stone.
She handed it to James. ‘‘It protects the wearer from a variety of minor enchantments and spells. Likely the sort of thing the young lady employs. It’s useless against anything of sub-135
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stance, but at the least it will keep the girl’s effects confined to what nature gave her.’’
James took the ring. ‘‘Thanks. What do I owe you?’’
‘‘For you,’’ she said, ‘‘nothing.’’ She refastened her tie-downs.
James said, ‘‘Why the sudden generosity?’’
‘‘You’ve done me a favor or two in the past, Jimmy. Let’s call it a parting gift.’’ She picked up the stalls again and pulled her cart out of the alley and into the street that would eventually lead them out of the Poor Quarter.
James dodged aside as two boys hurried past. For a moment he wondered if it had been a slash and grab, with one cutting his purse and the other trying to grab it, then he realized they were just city boys running for the pure joy of it.
James patted his purse to ensure it was indeed where he had left it, and then he untied it from his belt. Tucking the bag under the cover on the wagon, he said, ‘‘Then let me return a parting gift. You’ll need some coins to set yourself up wherever you land.’’
She smiled, her blue eyes bright. ‘‘You’re a friend, Jimmy.’’
‘‘When you think it’s safe, let me know where you’ve landed, Sophia.’’
She said, ‘‘I will,’’ and, leaving him, took the major road that led to the eastern gate.
James watched her vanish into the press of the city and then turned back toward the palace. Whatever else he did this afternoon, he needed to return for a short chat with the Prince.
He still had little idea what was behind the seemingly random murders of citizens in Krondor, but the fact that many of them were practitioners of magic was too important not to bring to Arutha’s attention at once. The afternoon sun burned hot, yet James felt a chill creeping into his bones.
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HE horses whinnied.
William glanced around. He was already tense from having the responsibility of his first command, even though he was accompanied by a well-seasoned sergeant and twenty veteran soldiers. Captain Treggar, even though a bully in the young officers’ mess, had taken William aside and said, ‘‘If you want to look stupid in front of the men, give orders. If you want to look like you know what you’re doing, just tell Sergeant Matthews what you want.’’
Despite his dislike for the man, William had taken the advice to heart and so far had looked like he knew what he was doing. The sun was near the mid-heaven, so William said,
‘‘Sergeant!’’
‘‘Sir!’’ came the prompt reply.
‘‘Find us a likely place to take the midday meal.’’
They were traveling along a road that was wending its way up into the forested foothills north of Krondor. William was alert, but not overly worried, as this area was considered relatively pacified. An occasional gang of robbers might harass travelers, but no group of sufficient size to attack a score of 138
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mounted soldiers had been reported in the region for months.
There were areas farther up the coast that were difficult to keep under control, but this area had been selected as much for the safety of the Prince’s guests as for the abundance of game.
The sergeant, a weatherbeaten old veteran named Matthews with surprisingly vivid blue eyes and nearly white hair, said,
‘‘There’s an inn around that bend, sir. I wouldn’t suggest nobility spend the night in such a place, but for a midday meal, it should do.’’
‘‘Send word ahead we’re coming,’’ said William.
‘‘Aye, sir.’’
A soldier spurred his horse on Matthews’ command and by the time the procession reached the inn, all was ready for them.
It was a modest two-story building with a chimney producing a healthy amount of smoke. The sign over the door showed a large tree under which slept a man with a travel bag. Matthews turned to William and said, ‘‘It’s called The Tree and Traveler, sir.’’
The innkeeper was waiting for them. The soldier had obviously told the man that visitors of rank were approaching, for without knowing who they were, the man was bowing and scraping to everyone as they stopped before his door.
The Duke of Olasko dismounted from his horse and a servant quickly had his hand out to help Princess Paulina dismount from her horse. She had insisted on wearing breeches and riding astride, and she ignored the helping hand, jumping nimbly to the ground. ‘‘I’m starving!’’ she announced to everyone. To the innkeeper she said, ‘‘What is today’s fare?’’
The man bowed, ‘‘Milady, we have a side of venison on the spit, cooked to a turn. I have game hens roasting and they will be finished within the half-hour. I have a hard cheese and fresh 139
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bread, apples and other fresh fruits, as well as dried. I have freshly-caught fish in the kitchen, but it is not yet cooked. If you wish, I can have it—’’
The duke interrupted. ‘‘The venison will do, as will the hens.
But first, ale. I am thirsty as well as famished.’’
William gave orders for the soldiers to secure the baggage horses, and instructed Matthews to have the men water the horses, before taking their own ease. As he turned to join the guests inside, he said, ‘‘I’ll have some fresh fruit and ale sent out for the men.’’
Matthews nodded. ‘‘Thank you, lieutenant.’’
William knew the men had eaten well enough that morning and this was far from a campaign march supplied with dried meats and hardtack, but it was a gesture that would be appreciated. He followed the nobles into the inn. It was a simple establishment, with two large rectangular tables in the center of the room, two small round tables in the corners on the right, a flight of stairs along the left wall leading to the second story, and a modest bar along the back wall, next to what was obviously a kitchen door. A large hearth dominated the right wall.
Most of the cooking was done there, it appeared, since a woman came hurrying from the kitchen to add something to the large kettle that sat simmering near the fire. A side of venison was being turned by a boy who sat in wide-eyed amazement at the rare sight of the nobles.
William glanced around the room and saw two men sitting at one of the round tables. Neither appeared armed, so William’s first judgment was that they were no threat. One was an older man, his hair nearly gone from his pate, leaving him with a long fringe of gray hair that hung to his shoulders. His nose was a huge hawk’s beak, but it was hardly noticeable because of 140
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his eyes. There was something compelling about them. William thought his clothing to be of fine weave, if less than fashionable. His companion wore a simple gray robe, with a hood thrown back. He was either a monk, priest, or a magician of some kind, William
thought. Most people would not come to that conclusion, but then most people hadn’t spent their boyhood growing up on an island full of magicians. He decided he needed to re-evaluate their threat potential.
He looked over to see the innkeeper fawning over the duke and his party, so rather than take his seat at the foot of the table, William crossed to the two men and said, ‘‘Your business here?’’
The robed man glanced up and seeing that it was an officer of the Prince’s guard who spoke, simply said, ‘‘We’re just travelers, sir.’’
William sensed something pass between the men and for a moment suspected mindspeech. William could speak with animals, a talent he had possessed since birth, though he found it of marginal use. Only Fantus, his father’s pet firedrake, had the intelligence to discuss anything beyond food and other basic concepts. When it came to human magic, William was an observer, but he had observed enough to be sensitive to it. ‘‘My prince has important guests in the realm, and it is my duty to see to their well-being. From where are you traveling and what is your destination?’’
The man with the compelling eyes said, ‘‘I am traveling to the coast, a village called Halden Head. I am coming from the east.’’
The other man said, ‘‘I am bound to Krondor, sir. I come from Eggley.’’
‘‘So you just happened to decide to share a meal?’’
The robed man said, ‘‘A chance meeting. We are exchanging gossip about the places to which each of us is bound.’’
‘‘Your names?’’
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‘‘I am Jaquin Medosa,’’ answered the man William thought might be a magician.
‘‘My name is Sidi,’’ said the other.
William looked at him for a long moment. There was something vaguely troubling about him. Yet the two men were eating peacefully and bothering no one. ‘‘Thank you for your cooperation,’’ he said. Without further comment he returned to the duke’s table.
Food and ale were being placed before the guests, and William signaled the innkeeper and asked that ale and fresh fruit be sent out to the soldiers. When that was done, he set about enjoying his own lunch. But throughout the meal he couldn’t help but glance from time to time to the corner table, where the two men sat lost in deep conversation. He was sure that on at least two occasions the man called Sidi had glanced his way.
The Princess asked William a question and he turned to answer. After a little banter, he said a silent thanks to James for providing him with his ring, for he found the girl mildly attractive and occasionally irritating now, as opposed to the overwhelming desire he had felt upon first meeting her. Paulina appeared to be unaware of his lack of ardor and she continued to chatter as if he was under her spell. When he had finished answering her question, William looked in the corner and saw that the two men were gone.
It was near evening when they arrived at the camp. Trackers from Krondor had gone ahead and had scouted the area for a likely campsite as well as the location of nearby game. The servants quickly unloaded the baggage train and erected tents for the duke and his family.
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service tents available should the weather turn inclement. As the sun sank in the west, servants hurriedly prepared the evening meal while William sent the trackers out for a quick sweep of the area and posted sentries. There was little danger in this area, but even a newly commissioned knight-lieutenant wouldn’t risk the lives of visiting dignitaries by not taking every precaution.
Matthews oversaw the watches and made sure those not standing watch ate and tended their equipment. In the field it was the rule that each man was responsible for his mount, so even though lackeys had accompanied the hunting expedition, each soldier inspected his own horse before turning in.
William joined the duke’s family in his quarters—more a pavilion than a tent—in which a table large enough to accommodate six people had been set out with food and wine. The duke invited him to join them for supper with a wave of his hand.
‘‘What have the trackers found?’’ he asked.
William replied, ‘‘Game signs to the northeast, Your Grace.
Elk and deer, and a sow bear with a cub.’’
The duke finished chewing on a quarter hen, and tossed the bones aside. William was thankful the man had no hounds with him. The habit of feeding dogs at the table had been one his mother had never allowed, and as a result William had also grown up with an aversion to having dogs under the table. The servants would remove the bones before the duke retired.
‘‘Won’t take a sow bear until the cub is weaned. Depletes the game population if you don’t let the little ones get out on their own. What else?’’
‘‘Maybe a big cat,’’ answered William.
At that the duke seemed pleased. ‘‘Can your trackers tell what kind?’’
William said, ‘‘Not sure, m’lord. Usually we have cougars.
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They’re bold and think nothing of coming into villages at night to make free with sheep or chickens.’’
‘‘I know the cat,’’ interrupted the duke. ‘‘Wily, but other than that, not much of a challenge once you have them treed.
What else?’’
‘‘Some true lions occasionally wander up from the southeast, though we almost always get word long before we see them.
Young males without a pride, usually.’’
‘‘Good trophy animal.’’
‘‘And once in a great while we get leopards.’’
‘‘Now there’s worthy game,’’ said the duke. ‘‘If one’s in a tree above you, that’s where he wants to be.’’
‘‘Perhaps by morning I’ll have new intelligence.’’
The balance of the meal went by slowly, as the duke and his son spoke of past hunts, reliving each triumph. Paulina spent her time staring absently into the distance or attempting to flirt with William, who responded politely to her banter. Prince Vladic seemed content to stay silently lost in his own thoughts.
When the dishes had been removed by the servants, William excused himself from the duke’s presence, citing his need to oversee the disposition of the camp. The duke nodded and waved him away.
William found Sergeant Matthews and asked, ‘‘How stand things?’’
‘‘Quiet, sir,’’ answered the sergeant.
‘‘I’m turning in. Wake me for the last watch.’’
‘‘You’re taking a watch, sir?’’ asked Matthews in a neutral voice.
William knew that many officers left the management of the watches to their sergeants. ‘‘I prefer my sergeants get a halfway decent night’s sleep on the march,’’ he answered, as if 144
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this wasn’t his first command. ‘‘Turn in after the second watch and have the senior guardsman wake me.’’
‘‘Sir,’’ said Matthews as William moved toward the spot set aside for his groundcloth and covers. He knew the sergeant was just as likely to ignore the command and continue to ensure each watch-change went without a hitch. Still, as with sending out fruit and ale for the trail-weary soldiers, the gesture would be appreciated.
William turned in, and for once was glad for his training under McWirth, for he had slept enough upon the ground atop a thin quilted mat, with a heavy woolen blanket over him, that once he lay down he was quickly asleep.
William’s eyes opened and he was awake without hesitation and halfway standing before he realized what had wakened him.
It was no sound, no alarm nor shout, but rather a feeling. Then he knew what it was. The horses were disturbed to the point at which his mind was hearing them as if they were shouting.
In another moment they would be whinnying. He hurried to where the horses where staked out. They were all standing quietly, heads erect, ears twitching
, nostrils flared as they tested the air.
William never liked talking with horses. Their minds were odd, divided.
What is it? William said with his mind to the nearest horse.
Hunter! came the answer, with an image of something moving silently through the forest nearby. Smell hunter!
William glanced upwind in the direction from which a scent would come. Man? he asked.
The response was confusing. Some of the horses seemed to agree while others sent impressions of a cat-like creature.
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‘‘Something wrong, sir?’’ asked Matthews at William’s shoulder.
‘‘I don’t know,’’ he answered quietly. ‘‘Something’s got the horses spooked.’’
‘‘Maybe a wolfpack hunting?’’
Rather than share his unusual ability with the sergeant, William just nodded. ‘‘Maybe, but there’s something close enough that the horses are—’’
Before he could finish the thought, the horses started whinnying and trying to pull up the stakes.
Matthews cried out, ‘‘Alarm! ’Ware the camp!’’
William had his sword out as something big and dark seemed to fly by, close to the ground, but it was past him before he realized it was not a bird of any sort, but a swift four-legged creature. It bounded into darkness next to trees on the edge of the camp, then appeared again in silhouette against the campfire for a brief instant, before vanishing into the night.
‘‘Damn me!’’ said Matthews. ‘‘It’s a black leopard!’’
Men were scrambling for weapons and the Duke of Olasko and his son came from their tents, weapons at the ready. By the time William reached them, word of the big cat had already reached the duke.
‘‘That’s a bold kitty, what?’’ said the duke with a grin. ‘‘Nice of him to let us know he’s in the woods.’’ He glanced around and asked, ‘‘What of the clock?’’
William glanced at the sergeant, who answered, ‘‘Three hours to sunrise, Your Grace.’’
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