Tully turned and nodded to the Chief Priest of Ishap, who struck the floor with his staff. “Now it is past, the hour of our choosing. I hereby proclaim Lyam the First our right, true, and undisputed King.”
The crowd responded with a roar. “Hail Lyam! Long live the King!”
The Priests of Ishap chanted low, and the chief priest led them to the door. He struck the wax seal with his staff, and it split with a cracking sound. He struck the door three times more, and the guards outside opened it. Before stepping out, he intoned the last phrase of the ritual of coronation. To those outside the hall, not privileged to watch the ceremony, he announced, “Let the word go forth. Lyam is our King!”
Faster than a bird’s flight, the word went out of the hall, through the palace, and into the city. Celebrants in the street toasted the new monarch, and not one in a thousand knew how close disaster had come to visiting the Kingdom this day.
The Ishapian priests left the hall, and all eyes returned to the new ruler of the Kingdom.
Tully motioned to the members of the royal family, and Arutha, Martin, and Carline came before their brother. Lyam extended his hand, and Martin knelt and kissed his brother’s signet. Arutha followed, then Carline.
Alicia led Anita to the throne, the first of the long line of nobles who followed, and the lengthy business of accepting the fealty of the peers of the realm began. Lord Caldric bent a trembling knee to his King, and there were tears of relief upon his face as he rose. When Brucal swore his loyalty, he briefly spoke to the King as he stood, and Lyam nodded.
Then in turn came the other nobles of the Kingdom until, hours later, the last of the Border Barons, those guardians of the Northern Marches, vassal to no Lord but the King, rose and returned to stand with the others in the hall.
Handing the sword of Dannis to a waiting page, Lyam stood and said, “It is our wish that a time of celebration be at hand. But there are matters of state that must be attended to at once. Most are of a happy nature, but first there is one sad duty that must be discharged.
“There is one absent today, one who sought to gain the throne upon which we are privileged to sit. That Guy du Bas-Tyra did plot treason cannot be denied. That he did commit foul murder is unquestioned. But it was the late King’s wish that mercy be shown in this matter. As it was Rodric’s dying request, I shall grant this boon, though it would be our pleasure to see Guy du Bas-Tyra pay in full for his deeds.
“Let the word go from this day that Guy du Bas-Tyra is named outlaw and banished from our Kingdom, his titles and lands forfeit to the crown. Let his name and arms be stricken from the role of Lords of the Kingdom. Let no man offer him shelter, fire, food, or water.” To the assembled lords he added, “Some here have been allied with the former Duke, so we have little doubt he will hear our judgment. Tell him to flee, to go to Kesh, Queg, or Roldem. Tell him to hide in the Northlands if no other will take him, but should he be found inside our borders within a week’s time, his life is forfeit.”
No one in the hall spoke for a moment, then Lyam said, “It has been a time of great sorrow and suffering in our realms; now let us embark upon a new era, one of peace and prosperity.” He indicated that his two brothers should return to his side, and as they approached, Arutha looked at Martin. Suddenly he grinned and, in an unexpected display of emotion, hugged both Martin and Lyam. For a brief instant all in the hall were silent as the three brothers clung closely to one another, then again cheers filled the room.
While the clamor continued, Lyam spoke to his brothers. At first Martin smiled broadly, then suddenly his expression changed. Both Arutha and Lyam nodded vigorously, but Martin’s face drained of color. He started to say something, his manner intense and remonstrative. Lyam cut him off and held up his hand for silence.
“There is a new ordering of things in our Kingdom. Let it be known that from this day forward, our beloved brother Arutha is Prince of Krondor, and until such time as there is a son in our house, Heir to the throne.” At the last, Arutha seemed less than pleased. Then Lyam said, “And it is our wish that the Duchy of Crydee, home of our father, stay within our family so long as his line remains. To this end I name Martin, our beloved brother, Duke of Crydee, with all lands, titles, and rights pertaining thereunto.”
A cheer again rose from the crowd. Martin and Arutha left Lyam’s side, and the new King said, “Let the Earl of LaMut and Knight-Captain Kasumi of LaMut approach the throne.”
Kasumi and Vandros started. Kasumi had been nervous all day, for Vandros had placed a great trust in him. His Tsurani impassivity asserted itself, and he fell in beside Vandros as he reached the throne.
Both men knelt before Lyam, who said, “My lord Brucal has asked us to make this happy announcement. His vassal the Earl Vandros will wed his daughter, the Lady Felinah.”
From the crowd Brucal’s voice could be heard clearly saying, “And it’s about time.” Several of the older courtiers from Rodric’s court blanched, but Lyam joined in the general laughter.
“It is also the Duke’s wish that he be allowed to retire to his estates, where he may seek the rewards of a long and useful service to his Kingdom. We have given consent. And as he has no son, it is also his wish that his title pass to one able to continue in the service of the Kingdom, one who has shown uncommon ability in commanding the LaMutian garrison of the Armies of the West during the late conflict. For his many brave actions and his faithful service, we hereby approve his marriage and are pleased to name Vandros Duke of Yabon, with all lands, titles, and rights pertaining thereunto. Rise, Lord Vandros.”
Vandros rose, a little shaken, then returned to the side of his father-in-law-to-be. Brucal struck him a friendly blow on the back and gripped his hand. Lyam turned his attention to Kasumi and smiled. “There is one here before us who was recently counted our enemy. He is now counted as our loyal subject. Kasumi of the Shinzawai, for your efforts to bring peace to two warring worlds, and your wisdom and courage in the defense of our lands against the Brotherhood of the Dark Path, we give to you command of the garrison of LaMut, and name you Earl of LaMut, with all lands, titles, and rights pertaining thereunto. Rise, Earl Kasumi.”
Kasumi was speechless. He slowly reached out and took the King’s hand, as he had seen the other nobles do, and kissed the signet. To the King he said, “My lord King, my life and my honor do I pledge.”
Lyam said, “My lord Vandros, do you accept Earl Kasumi as your vassal?”
Vandros grinned. “Happily, Sire.”
Kasumi rejoined Vandros, his eyes illuminated by pride. Brucal administered another hearty slap on the back.
Several more offices were given, for there were vacancies from the intrigues of Rodric’s court and from deaths in the war. When it seemed all business was over, Lyam said, “Let Squire Pug of Crydee approach the throne.”
Pug looked at Katala and Kulgan, surprised at being called., “What…?”
Kulgan pushed him forward. “Go and find out.”
Pug came before Lyam and bowed. The King said, “What has been done was a private matter, between our father and this man. Now it is our wish all in our realm know that this man, once called Pug, the orphan of Crydee, has had his name inscribed upon the rolls of our family.” He held out his hand, and Pug knelt before him. Lyam presented his signet and then took Pug by the shoulders and bade him rise. “As it was our father’s wish, so it is ours. From this day let all in our Kingdom know this man is Pug conDoin, member of the King’s family.”
Many in the hall were surprised by Pug’s adoption and elevation, but those who knew of his exploits cheered lustily as Lyam said, “Behold our cousin Pug, Prince of the Realm.”
Katala ignored all propriety and ran forward to embrace her husband. Several of the eastern lords frowned, but Lyam laughed and kissed her upon the cheek.
“Come!” Lyam cried. “It is now time for celebration. Let the dancers, musicians, and tumblers come forth. Let tables be brought and food and wine be placed upon them. Let merriment r
eign!”
—
THE FESTIVITIES CONTINUED. Celebration had run unchecked throughout the afternoon. A herald next to the King’s table read messages to the King from those unable to attend, many nobles and the King of Queg, as well as monarchs of the small kingdoms of the eastern shores. Important merchants and Guildmasters from the Free Cities also sent congratulations. There were also messages from Aglaranna and Tomas, and from the dwarves of the West at Stone Mountain and the Grey Towers. Old King Halfdan, ruler of the dwarves of the East in Dorgin, sent his best wishes, and even Great Kesh had sent greetings, with a request for more meetings to settle peacefully the issue of the Vale of Dreams. The message was personally signed by the Empress.
Hearing the last message, Lyam said to Arutha, “For Kesh to have sent us a personal message in so short a time, the Empress must boast the most gifted spies in Midkemia. You’ll have to keep your wits about you in Krondor.”
Arutha sighed, not happy at that prospect. Pug, Laurie, Meecham, Gardan, Kulgan, Fannon, and Kasumi all sat at the royal table. Lyam had insisted they join the royal family. The new Earl of LaMut still seemed in shock at his office, but his happiness was clearly showing, and even in this noisy hall the sound of his warriors outside singing Tsurani songs of celebration could be faintly heard. Pug mused over the discomfort that must be causing the royal porters and pages.
Katala joined her husband, reporting their son napping, and Fantus as well, exhausted from play. Katala said to Kulgan, “I hope your pet will be able to withstand such constant aggravation.”
Kulgan laughed. “Fantus thrives on the attention.”
Pug said, “With all those rewards being passed out, Kulgan, I’m surprised there was no mention of you. You’ve given faithful service to the King’s family as long as anyone save Tully and Fannon.”
Kulgan snorted. “Tully, Fannon, and I all met with Lyam yesterday, before we knew he was going to acknowledge Martin and throw the court into turmoil. He began to mumble something or another about offices and rewards and such, but we all begged off. When he began to protest, I told him I didn’t care what he did for Tully and Fannon, but if he tried to haul me up before all those people, I’d straightway turn him into a toad.”
Anita, overhearing the exchange, laughed. “So it is true!”
Pug, remembering the conversation he had with Anita in Krondor, so many years ago, joined in the merriment. He looked back on all that had occurred to him in the years since he had first chanced to come to Kulgan’s cottage in the forests, and reflected for a moment. After much risk and many conflicts he was safe with family and friends, with a great adventure, the building of the academy, yet to come. He wished that a few others—Hochopepa, Shimone, Kamatsu, Hokanu, as well as Almorella and Netoha—could share in his happiness. And he wished Ichindar and the Lords of the High Council could know the true reason for the betrayal on the day of peace. And most of all, he wished Tomas could have joined them.
“So thoughtful, husband?”
Pug snapped out of his mood and smiled. “Beloved, I was thinking that in all things I am a most fortunate man.”
His wife placed her hand upon his and returned his smile. Tully leaned across the table and inclined his head toward the other end, where Laurie sat enraptured by Carline, who was laughing at some witticism he had made. It was obvious she found him as charming as Pug had promised; in fact, she looked captivated. Pug said, “I think I recognize that expression on Carline’s face. I think Laurie may be in for some trouble.”
Kasumi said, “Knowing friend Laurie, it is a trouble he will welcome.”
Tully looked thoughtful. “There is a duchy at Bas-Tyra now in need of a duke, and he does seem a competent enough young man. Hmmm.”
Kulgan barked, “Enough! Haven’t you had your fill of pomp? Must you go marrying the poor lad off to the King’s sister so you can officiate in the palace again? Gods! They just met today!”
Tully and Kulgan seemed about to launch into another of their famous debates when Martin cut them both off. “Let us change the subject. My head is awhirl, and we don’t need your bickering.”
Tully and Kulgan exchanged startled looks, then both smiled. As one they said, “Yes, my lord.”
Martin groaned while those close by joined in the laughter. Martin shook his head. “This seems so strange, after so much fear and worry such a short time back. Why, I nearly chose to go with Amos—” He looked up. “Where is Amos?”
Upon hearing the seaman’s name, Arutha also looked up from his conversation with Anita. “Where is that pirate?”
Martin answered. “He said something about arranging for a ship. I thought he was only making light, but I haven’t seen him since the coronation.”
Arutha said, “Arranging for a ship! The gods weep!” He stood and said, “With Your Majesty’s permission.”
Lyam said, “Go and fetch him back. From all you have told me, he warrants some reward.”
Martin stood and said, “I’ll ride with you.”
Arutha smiled. “Gladly.”
The two brothers hurried from the hall, making quick time to the courtyard. Porters and pages held horses for guests departing early. Arutha and Martin grabbed the first two in line, unceremoniously leaving two minor nobles without mounts. The two noblemen stood with mouths open, caught halfway between anger and amazement. “Your pardon, my lords,” shouted Arutha as he galloped his horse toward the gate.
As they rode through the gates of the palace, across the arched bridge over the river Rillanon, Martin said, “He said he would sail at sundown!”
“That gives us scant time!” shouted Arutha. Down winding streets they flew to the harbor.
The city was thick with celebrants, and several times they had to slow to avoid harming those who crowded the streets. They reached the harborside and pulled up their mounts.
A single guard sat as if sleeping before the entrance to the royal docks. Arutha jumped down from his horse and jostled the man. The guard’s helm fell from his head as he toppled over, slumping to the ground. Arutha checked him and said, “He’s alive, but he’ll have a head on him tomorrow.”
Arutha remounted and they hurried along Rillanon’s long dockside to the last wharf. Shouts from men in the rigging of a ship greeted them as they turned their horses toward the end of a long pier.
A beautiful vessel was slowly moving away from the docks, and as they pulled up, Martin and Arutha could see Amos Trask standing upon the quarterdeck. He waved high above his head, still close enough so they could see his grinning face. “Ha! It seems all ends well!”
Arutha and Martin dismounted as the distance between ship and pier slowly lengthened. “Amos!” shouted Arutha.
Amos pointed at a distant building. “The boys who stood watch here are all in that warehouse. They’re a little bruised, but they’re alive.”
“Amos! That’s the King’s ship!” yelled Arutha, waving for the ship to put back.
Amos Trask laughed. “I thought the Royal Swallow a grand name. Well, tell your brother I’ll return it someday.”
Martin began to laugh. Then Arutha joined in. “You pirate!” shouted the youngest brother. “I’ll have him give it to you.”
With a deep cry of despair, Amos said, “Ah, Arutha, you take all the fun out of life!”
This book is dedicated to the memory of my father,
FELIX E. FEIST,
in all ways, a magician
Acknowledgements
Many people have provided me with incalculable aid in bringing this novel into existence. I would like to offer my heartfelt thanks to:
The Friday Nighters: April and Stephen Abrams; Steve Barett; David Brin; Anita and Jon Everson; Dave Guinasso; Conan LaMotte; Tim LeSelle; Ethan Munson; Bob Potter; Rich Spahl; Alan Springer; and Lori and Jeff Velten, for their useful criticism, enthusiasm, support, belief, wise counsel, wonderful ideas, and most of all, their friendship.
Billie and Russ Blake, and Lilian and Mike Fessier, for always
being willing to help.
Harold Matson, my agent, for taking a chance on me. Adrian Zackheim, my editor, for asking rather than demanding, and for working so hard to build a good book.
Kate Cronin, assistant to the editor, for having a sense of humor and for so gracefully putting up with all my nonsense.
Elaine Chubb, copy editor, for having such a gentle touch and for caring so much about the words.
And Barbara A. Feist, my mother, for all of the above and more.
RAYMOND E. FEIST
San Diego, California
July 1982
Acknowledgment to the Revised Edition
On this occasion, the publication of the author’s preferred edition, I would like to add the following names to the preceding list, people who, though not known to me at the time I made the foregoing acknowledgment, provided invaluable aid to me in bringing Magician to the public and contributed materially to my success:
Mary Ellen Curley, who took over from Katie and kept us all on course.
Peter Schneider, whose enthusiasm for the work gave me a valued ally within Doubleday and a close friend for the last decade.
Lou Aronica, who bought it even when he really didn’t want to do reprints, and for giving me the chance to return to my first work and “rewrite it one more time.” Pat Lobrutto, who helped before it was his job, and who took over at a tough time, and whose friendship endures beyond our business relationship.
Janna Silverstein, who despite her short tenure as my editor has shown an uncanny knack for knowing when to leave me alone and when to stay in touch.
Nick Austin, John Booth, Jonathan Lloyd, Malcolm Edwards, and everyone at Granada, now HarperCollins Books, who made the work an international bestseller. Abner Stein, my British agent, who sold it to Nick in the first place.
Janny Wurts, for being my friend, and who, by working with me on the Empire Trilogy, gave me a completely different perspective on the Tsurani; she helped turn The Game of the Council from a vague concept to a murderously real arena of human conflict. Kelewan and Tsuranuanni are as much her inventions as mine. I drew the outlines and she colored in the details.
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