The Riftwar Saga

by Raymond E. Feist

  It was taller than the average goblin, being nearly Meecham’s height. Thick ridges dominated its forehead, and a large nose was the focus of its face, but it was nobler in features than a goblin. Two black, twinkling eyes regarded them as they resumed their climb. As they came up to it, the creature gave a toothy grin. Its head was covered with a thick mat of black hair, and its skin was tinged with the faint green of the goblin tribe, but it lacked the hunched-shouldered posture of a goblin, instead standing erect much like a man. It wore a finely fashioned tunic and trousers, both bright green. Upon its feet were a pair of polished black boots, reaching nearly to its knees.

  The creature said, grinning, ‘Welcome, masters, welcome. I am Gathis, and I have the honor of acting as your host in my master’s absence.’ There was a slight hiss to its speech.

  Kulgan said, ‘Your master is Macros the Black?’

  ‘Of course. It has been ever thus. Please enter.’

  The four men accompanied Gathis into the large entry hall and stopped to look about. Except for the absence of people and of the usual heraldic banners, this hall looked much like the one in Castle Crydee.

  ‘My master has left explicit instructions for your visit, as much as was possible to anticipate, so I have prepared the castle for your arrival. Would you care for some refreshments? There are food and wine ready.’

  Kulgan shook his head. He was unsure of what this creature was, but he was not overly comfortable with anything that so resembled a servant of the Dark Brotherhood. ‘Macros said there would be a message. I would see it at once.’

  Gathis bowed slightly. ‘As you will. Please come with me.’

  He led them along a series of corridors to a flight of stairs that spiraled up into the large tower. They mounted the steps and soon came to a locked door. ‘My master said you would be able to open this door. Should you fail, you are impostors, and I am to deal with you harshly.’

  Meecham gripped his sword at hearing this, but Pug placed his hand on the big franklin’s arm. ‘Since the rift is closed, half my power is lost, that which I gained from Kelewan, but this should prove no obstacle.’

  Pug concentrated upon opening the door. Instead of the usual response of the door swinging open, a change occurred in the door itself. The wood seemed to become fluid, flowing and ebbing as it fashioned its surface into a new form. In a few moments a face could be seen, formed in the wood. It looked like a bas-relief, with a slight resemblance to Macros. It was very lifelike in detail and appeared to be asleep. Then its eyelids opened, and they could see that the eyes were alive, black centers showing against white. Its mouth moved, and a voice issued from it, the sound deep and resonant as it spoke in perfect Tsurani. ‘What is the first duty?’

  Without thinking, Pug answered, ‘To serve the Empire.’

  The face flowed back into the door, and when there was no trace of it before them, the door swung aside. They entered and found themselves in the study of Macros the Black, a large room occupying the entire top of the tower.

  Gathis said, ‘I take it I have the honor of hosting Masters Kulgan, Pug, and Meecham?’ He then studied the fourth member of the party. ‘And you must be Prince Arutha?’ When they nodded, he said, ‘My master was unsure if Your Highness would attend, though he thought it likely. He was certain the other three gentlemen would be here.’ He indicated the room with a sweep of his hand. ‘All that you see is at your disposal. If you will excuse me, I will return with your message and some refreshments.’

  Gathis left, and all four looked at the contents of the room. Except for one bare wall where it was obvious that a bookcase or cupboard had recently been removed, the entire room was surrounded with tall shelves from floor to ceiling, all heavily laden with books and scrolls. Pug and Kulgan were almost paralyzed by indecision about where to begin their investigation.

  Arutha solved that problem by crossing over to a shelf where lay a large parchment bound with a red ribbon. He took it down and laid it upon the round table in the center of the room. A shaft of sunlight from the room’s single large window fell across the parchment as he unrolled it.

  Kulgan came over to see what he had found. ‘It is a map of Midkemia!’

  Pug and Meecham crossed over to stand behind Kulgan and Arutha. ‘Such a map!’ Prince Arutha exclaimed. ‘I have never seen its like.’ His finger stabbed at a spot upon a large landmass in the center. ‘Look! Here is the Kingdom.’ Across a small portion of the map were inscribed the words Kingdom of the Isles. Below could be seen the larger borders of the Empire of Great Kesh. To the south of the Empire, the states of the Keshian Confederacy were clearly shown.

  ‘To the best of my knowledge,’ said Kulgan, ‘few from the Kingdom have ever ventured into the Confederacy. Our only knowledge of its members is through the Empire and a few of our more venturesome captains who’ve visited some of their ports. We hardly know the names of these nations, and nothing about them.’

  Pug said, ‘We learn much about our world in an instant. Look at how small a part of this continent the Kingdom is.’ He pointed to the great sweep of the Northlands to the north of the Kingdom, and the far-reaching mass of land below the Confederacy. The entire continent bore the inscription Triagia.

  Kulgan said, ‘It appears there is a great deal more to our Midkemia than we had dreamed.’ He indicated additional landmasses across the sea. These were labeled Wiñet and Novindus. Upon each, cities and states were delineated. Two large chains of islands were also shown, many with cities marked. Kulgan shook his head. ‘There have been rumors of traders from far distant lands, venturing into the trading ports in the Keshian Confederacy, or treating with the pirates of Sunset Islands, but they are only rumors. It is small wonder we have never heard of these places. It would be a brave captain who set his ship upon a course for so far a port.’

  They were brought out of their study by the sound of Gathis returning to the room. He carried a tray with a decanter and four wine cups. ‘My master bade me say that you are to enjoy the hospitality of his home as long as you desire.’ He placed the tray on the table and poured wine into the cups. He then removed a scroll from within his tunic and handed it to Kulgan. ‘He bade me give you this. I will retire while you consider my master’s message. Should you need me, simply speak my name, and I will return quickly.’ He bowed slightly and left the room.

  Kulgan regarded the scroll. It was sealed with black wax, impressed with the letter M. He broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. He started to read to himself, then said, ‘Let us sit.’

  Pug rolled up the large map and put it away, then returned to the table where the others were sitting. He pulled out a chair and waited with Meecham and Arutha while Kulgan read. Kulgan shook his head slowly. ‘Listen,’ he said, and read aloud:

  ‘“To the magicians Kulgan and Pug, greetings. I have anticipated some of your questions and have endeavored to answer them as best I can. I fear there are others that must go begging, as much about myself must remain known only to me. I am not what the Tsurani would call a Great One, though I have visited that world, as Pug knows, upon a number of occasions. My magic is peculiar to myself and defies description in your terms of Greater and Lesser Paths. Suffice it to say I am a walker of many paths.

  ‘“I see myself as a servant of the gods, though that may be only my vanity speaking. Whatever the truth is, I have traveled to many lands and worked for many causes.

  ‘“Of my early life I will say little. I am not of this world, having been born in a land distant both in space and time. It is not unlike this world, but there are ample reasons to count it strange by your standards.

  ‘“I am older than I care to remember, old even by the elves’ reckoning. For reasons I do not understand, I have lived for ages, though my own people are as mortal as yours. It may be that when I entered into the magic arts, I unwittingly gave this near-immortality to myself, or it may be the gift – or curse – of the gods.

  ‘“Since becoming a sorcerer, I have been fated to know
my own future, as others know their pasts. I have never retreated from what I knew to be before me, though often I wished to. I have served great kings and simple peasants both. I have lived in the greatest cities and the rudest huts. Often I have understood the meaning of my participation, sometimes not, but always I have followed the foreordained path that was set for me.”’

  Kulgan stopped for a moment. ‘This explains how he knew so much.’ He resumed his reading.

  ‘“Of all my labors, my role in the rift war was the hardest. Never have I experienced such desire to turn from the path before me. Never have I been responsible for the loss of so many lives, and I mourn for them more than you can know. But even as you consider my ‘treachery,’ consider my situation.

  ‘“I was unable to close the rift without Pug’s aid. It was fated for the war to continue while he learned his craft on Kelewan. For the terrible price paid, consider the gain. There now is one upon Midkemia who practices the Greater Art, which was lost in the coming of man during the Chaos Wars. The benefit will be judged only by history, but I think it a valuable one.

  ‘“As to my closing the rift once peace was at hand, I can only say it was vital. The Tsurani Great Ones had forgotten that rifts are subject to the Enemy’s detection.”’ Kulgan looked up in surprise. ‘Enemy? Pug, this refers to something I think you need explain.’

  Pug told them quickly of what he knew of the legendary Enemy. Arutha said, ‘Can such a terrible being really exist?’ His expression betrayed disbelief.

  Pug said, ‘That it once existed, there is no doubt, and for a being of such power still to endure is not beyond imagining. But of all conceivable reasons for Macros’s actions, this is the last I would have thought possible. No one in the Assembly had dreamed of it. It’s incredible.’

  Kulgan resumed reading. ‘“It is to him like a beacon, drawing that terrible entity across space and time. It might have been years more before he would have appeared, but once here, all the powers of your world would be hard-pressed, perhaps even insufficient, to dislodge him from Midkemia. The rift had to be closed. The reasons I chose to ensure its closing at the cost of so many lives should be apparent to you.”’

  Pug interrupted. ‘What does he mean, “should be apparent”?’

  Kulgan said, ‘Macros was nothing, it seems, if not a student of human nature. Could he alone have convinced the King and Emperor to close the rift, with so much to be gained by keeping it open? Perhaps, perhaps not, but in any event there would have been the all-too-human temptation to keep it open “just a little longer.” I think he knew that and was ensuring there would be no choice.’ Kulgan returned to reading the scroll. ‘“As to what will happen now, I cannot say. My seeing of the future ends with the explosion of the rift. Whether it is, finally, my appointed hour, or simply the beginning of some new era of my existence, I do not know. In the event you have witnessed my death, I have decided upon the following course. All my research, with some exceptions, is contained within this room. It is to be used to further the Greater and Lesser Arts. It is my wish that you take possession of the books, scrolls, and tomes contained here and use them to that end. A new epoch of magic is beginning in the Kingdom, and it is my wish for others to benefit from my works. In your hands I leave this new age.”

  ‘It is signed, “Macros.”’

  Kulgan placed the scroll upon the table. Pug said, ‘One of the last things he said to me was he wished to be remembered kindly.’

  They said nothing for a time, then Kulgan called, ‘Gathis!’

  Within seconds the creature appeared at the doorway. ‘Yes, Master Kulgan?’

  ‘Do you know what is contained within this scroll?’

  ‘Yes, Master Kulgan. My master was most explicit in his instructions. He made sure that we were aware of his requirements.’

  ‘We?’ said Arutha.

  Gathis smiled his toothy grin. ‘I am but one of my master’s servants. The others are instructed to keep from your sight, for it was feared their presence might cause you some discomfort. My master lacked most of the human prejudices and was content to judge each creature he met on its own merits.’

  ‘What exactly are you?’ asked Pug.

  ‘I am of a race akin to the goblins, as the elves are to the Dark Brotherhood. We were an old race and perished but for a few, long before humans came to the Bitter Sea. Those that were left were brought here by Macros, and I am the last.’

  Kulgan regarded the creature. In spite of his appearance, there was something about him that was likable. ‘What will you do now?’

  ‘I will wait here for my master’s return, keeping his home in order.’

  ‘You expect him to return?’ asked Pug.

  ‘Most likely. In a day, or a year, or a century. It does not matter. Things will be ready for him should he return.’

  ‘What if he has perished?’ asked Arutha.

  ‘In that event, I shall grow old and die waiting, but I think not. I have served the Black One for a very long time. Between us is . . . an understanding. If he were dead, I think I would know. He is merely . . . absent. Even if he is dead, he may return. Time is not to my master as it is to other men. I am content to wait.’

  Pug thought about this. ‘He must truly have been the master of all magic.’

  Gathis’s smile broadened. ‘He would laugh to hear that, master. He was always complaining of there being so much to learn and so little time to learn it. And that from a man who had lived years beyond numbering.’

  Kulgan said, as he rose from his chair, ‘We will have to fetch men to carry all these things back to the ship.’

  Gathis said, ‘Worry not, master. Retire to your ship when you are ready. Leave two boats on the beach at the cove. At first light the next day you will find everything placed aboard, packed for shipment.’

  Kulgan nodded. ‘Very well; then we should start at once to catalog all these works, before we move them.’

  Gathis went over to a shelf and returned with a rolled parchment. ‘In anticipation of your needs, master, I have prepared such a listing of all the works here.’

  Kulgan unrolled the parchment and began reading the inventory of works. His eyes widened. ‘Listen,’ he said, excitedly. ‘There’s a copy of Vitalus’s Expectations of Matter Transformation here.’ His eyes grew bigger still. ‘And Spandric’s Temporal Research. That work was thought lost a hundred years ago!’ He looked at the others, wonder upon his face. ‘And hundreds of volumes with Macros’s name on them. This is a treasure beyond measure.’

  Gathis said, ‘I am pleased that you find it so, master.’

  Kulgan started to ask for those volumes to be brought to him, but Arutha said, ‘Wait Kulgan. Once you begin, we’ll have to tie you up to get you out of here. Let us return to the ship and wait for all this to be brought. We must be off soon.’

  Kulgan looked like a child whose sweets had been taken from him. Arutha, Pug, and Meecham all chuckled at the stout magician. Pug said, ‘There is no good reason to stay now. We shall have years to study these after the coronation. Look around, Kulgan. Do you mean to inhale all this in one breath?’

  A look of resignation crossed Kulgan’s face. ‘Very well.’

  Pug surveyed all in the room. ‘Think of it. An academy for the study of magic, with Macros’s library at the heart.’

  Kulgan’s eyes grew luminous. ‘I had all but forgotten the Duke’s bequest. A place to learn. No longer will an apprentice learn from this master or that, but from many. With this legacy and your own teachings, Pug, we have a wonderful start.’

  Arutha said, ‘Let us be on our way if we’re to have any sort of start. There’s a new king to crown, and the longer you tarry, the more likely you’ll lose yourself in here.’

  Kulgan looked as if his good name were impugned. ‘Well, I will take a few things to study while on the ship – if you have no objections?’

  Arutha raised a placating hand. ‘Whatever you wish,’ he said with a rueful smile. ‘But please, no more tha
n we can reasonably lug down to the boat.’

  Kulgan smiled, his mood lightening. ‘Agreed.’ He turned to Gathis. ‘Would you fetch those two volumes I mentioned.’

  Gathis held out the two volumes, old and well read. Kulgan looked surprised, while Gathis said, ‘I thought you might reach such an understanding and removed them from the shelves while you discussed the matter.’

  Kulgan walked toward the door, shaking his head slowly as he regarded the two books he held. The others followed, and Gathis closed the door behind them. The goblinlike creature guided them to the courtyard and bid them a safe journey at the door of the keep.

  When the large doors had closed behind them, Meecham said, ‘This fellow Macros seems to have raised five questions for each he answered.’

  Kulgan said, ‘You have that right, old friend. Perhaps we will gain additional knowledge from his notes, and other works. Perhaps not, and maybe that’s the right of it.’

  • CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR •

  Renaissance

  RILLANON WAS IN A FESTIVE MOOD.

  Everywhere banners rippled in the breeze, and garlands of summer flowers replaced the black bunting that had marked the period of mourning for the late King and his cousin Borric. Now they would be crowning a new king, and the people rejoiced. The people of Rillanon knew little of Lyam, but he was fair to view, and generous with his smile in public. To the populace it was as if the sun had come out from behind the dark clouds that had been Rodric’s reign.

  Few among the people were aware of the many royal guards who circulated throughout the city, always alert for signs of Guy du Bas-Tyra’s agents and possible assassins. And fewer still noticed the plainly dressed men who were always near when groups gathered to speak of the new King, listening to what was said.

  Arutha cantered his horse toward the palace, leaving Pug, Meecham, and Kulgan behind. He cursed the fate that had delayed them nearly a week, becalmed less than three days from Krondor, then the slowness of their journey to Salador. It was midmorning, and already the Priests of Ishap were bearing the King’s new crown through the city. In less than three hours they would appear before the throne and Lyam would take the crown.