Prince of the Blood, the King's Buccaneer

by Raymond E. Feist

  ‘And they know nothing of yours,’ said Nakor.

  ‘What was that about Al-maral?’ asked Nicholas.

  Nakor shook his head. ‘Bad things. Religious wars, the worse kind. Centuries ago, there was a great schism in the Church of Ishap, between those who believed that he was the One God Above All, and those who believed he was “Al-maral”, or all gods, each of the lesser gods being but one of his different facets. As such things tend to do, the schism also masked a power struggle within the temples of Ishap, and at last the followers of Al-maral were declared heretics and hunted down. Legend has it that those in Great Kesh fled into the desert and died, but some few departed by ship, sailing into the Endless Sea.’

  Ghuda said, ‘That would explain why they all speak Keshian.’

  ‘More like Keshian that was spoken a few hundred years ago,’ said Harry.

  Tuka said, ‘Encosi comes from across the great sea?’

  Nicholas said, ‘I told you we came from a distant city.’

  Something in Tuka’s eyes betrayed his thinking as he said, ‘So then it must be a matter of great importance that brings such a company across the great sea, yes?’

  Nicholas said, ‘A matter for me to discuss with your master.’ Seeing the little man’s dreams of wealth dry up, he added, ‘To your credit, along with the return of the Ranjana to the Overlord.’

  Tuka said, ‘My master will at his most generous judge my accomplishments barely sufficient to offset my failures in protecting his caravan.’

  ‘Take us to your master, and we’ll make it worth your while.’

  Once again the man’s expression changed. ‘Oh, thank you, most generous Encosi.’

  ‘We have some learning to do about the way things are done here, so in exchange for our generosity, you will tutor us in the customs of this land.’

  ‘Most assuredly, Encosi.’

  Reaching the wagons, they discovered Brisa being guarded by two of the sailors. ‘What’s happened?’ asked Nicholas.

  One of the sailors said in the King’s Tongue, ‘She was about to strangle that girl in the wagon when we pulled her off, Highness.’

  Nicholas said, ‘Don’t call me that anymore. I’m the captain of this company, and speak Keshian or Natalese.’

  The sailor switched to the Natalese dialect and said, ‘I don’t know what caused it, but I found this one trying to murder the girl with all the jewelry.’

  ‘Jewelry?’ said Nicholas.

  ‘The one the others call the Ranjana.’

  Kneeling down, Nicholas said, ‘Brisa, what happened?’

  ‘No one calls me that name –’

  Putting up his hand to silence her, Nicholas said, ‘Start at the beginning.’

  ‘I was minding my own business when that snot-nosed child called me over and asked me to get her this box that was in the first wagon.’ Narrowing her eyes, she gazed at the second wagon. ‘So, I figure why not? I got it, and she opens it and starts putting on all this jewelry. Then she orders me to draw water so she may bathe. I told her to draw it herself, and then she called me –’

  Nicholas stopped her again. ‘So you tried to kill her?’

  ‘Only a little. I would have stopped before she was completely dead.’

  Nicholas stood. ‘I think I’ll go visit our guest.’

  He went to the second wagon and saw that it had been completely covered by having the canvas sides lowered. At the rear, Nicholas paused to knock on the door.

  A voice from within asked who was there, and he answered, ‘Nicholas … Captain Nicholas.’

  The door opened and a young girl’s face appeared. She said in very imperious tones, ‘My mistress is distressed over the attack of the whore. She will see you tomorrow. Don’t kill the whore until my mistress is awake to watch.’

  The door closed and Nicholas stood there blinking. He resisted the urge to open the door and enter, judging everyone would benefit from a good night’s sleep. Besides, he really didn’t know what he would say.

  He returned to the campfire where Brisa sat and said, ‘I’ll straighten this out in the morning.’

  ‘She called –’

  ‘I know what she called you,’ interrupted Nicholas. ‘I’ll sort it out in the morning. Now get some sleep.’

  Nicholas had Tuka, Amos, Marcus, Ghuda, and Nakor join him by the fire. Nicholas said, ‘Tuka, we can make you, if not a wealthy man, at least a prosperous one. If you seek to mislead us, thinking somehow to gain advantage later, my friend here’ – he indicated Ghuda – ‘will be pleased to wring your neck. Now, tell us of this nation.’

  The word seemed lost on Tuka. ‘Nation, Encosi?’

  ‘This land. Who rules?’

  ‘On this side of the river, the Jeshandi claim all these lands as theirs.’

  ‘On the other side of the river?’

  ‘No one, Encosi. We are too far from the City of the Serpent River for the Overlord’s soldiers to reach, so he has no claim. And the other cities are on the other side of the mountains. Those who live here are their own masters.’

  They talked on into the night, discovering what to Nicholas and the others were strange and alien things about this land they found themselves in. There were no kingdoms or empires or any large political entities close enough that Tuka even understood the term. This was a land of city-states and independent rulers, each claiming whatever lands they were able to subjugate by force of arms. In the Eastlands, the realm dominated by the City of the Serpent River, power resided with a loose confederation of clans, tribal people related to the Jeshandi. Now they were dominated by this Overlord, a man who had come to power twenty years earlier, and who kept his position by pitting one clan against another.

  As the talks wore on, Nicholas realized that to travel from any point in this land to another required the services of a mercenary army, hence Tuka’s belief that Nicholas was a ‘mighty captain’, and his thirty-three companions a mercenary band.

  When the little man had told them as much as they could absorb after so many fatiguing days and so large a meal, Nicholas ordered everyone to turn in. Nicholas asked Amos to select a few men to stand guard, though there seemed little need with the Jeshandi camped so close. He still wanted a soldier by the Ranjana’s wagon.

  After sleeping on the ground for more than two weeks, the bedroll he had purchased from Mikola felt like the softest feather bed he had ever known. Nicholas lay down and, for the first time since the wreck, fell into a deep, relaxed sleep.

  Nicholas jerked awake as a scream rent the air. Coming to his feet with his sword in hand, he blinked like an owl startled by light as he attempted to get his bearings. A couple of the sailors were also standing with their weapons drawn. Then another scream caused them to turn toward the second wagon. Nicholas put away his weapon, for the scream was clearly one of outrage, not pain or fear.

  Nicholas approached the end of the wagon and found one of the soldiers from Crydee there. He shrugged apologetically and said, ‘Sorry, Captain, but she wanted to see you and I wouldn’t wake you, so she started shrieking.’

  Nicholas nodded and motioned for the man to step aside. Nicholas knocked on the wooden door and waited for a moment; a face appeared. The same girl who had greeted him last night said, ‘You’re late!’

  Nicholas said, ‘Tell your mistress I’m here.’

  ‘She will see you presently.’

  Nicholas was feeling grumpy from having been awakened from a sound sleep and from not having had anything to eat. He said, ‘She will see me now!’ as he pushed past her. He stooped as he entered the low wagon.

  Inside he discovered the wagon had been converted into a bedchamber, with bedrolls at the far end wide enough and long enough so the five women who traveled together could sleep in comfort. In the end where he stood, both sides of the wagon were piled high with small trunks, which he suspected carried their personal belongings. A tent flap on the left side of the wagon, away from the campfire, was opened, letting in the sun so the Ranjana cou
ld primp before her mirror.

  Nicholas got his first good look at the young woman in good light. He was impressed. His first impression had been one of a pretty girl; now he realized she was easily as beautiful as Abby, though she was like night to Abby’s day. Where Abby was blond with fair skin, the Ranjana was dark, with black hair and skin the color of lightly creamed coffee. She had enormous brown eyes with impossibly long lashes, and she had a full mouth, which was at the moment set in a particularly unattractive line. She hurriedly closed her red silk blouse, which had revealed a black breast band designed to heighten the curve of her bosom. Nicholas flushed slightly at the exposed skin. Her expression robbed him of that momentary awareness as she turned her wrath on him.

  ‘You dare enter without my leave!’ she demanded.

  ‘I dare,’ he replied. ‘You may be someone of importance where you hail from, Ranjana, but here I rule. Never forget that.’ Bending one knee, so he could look the sitting girl in the eyes, he said, ‘Now, what is this nonsense about your expecting me to come to you at your whim?’

  Anger flashing in her eyes, she said, ‘No more nonsense than your expecting me to come at yours. I am the Ranjana! Of course you will come when I call you, peasant!’

  Nicholas flushed. He had never been addressed in this fashion in his life and he didn’t like it. He was tempted to explain to her that his father was a Prince and he was brother to a man who would be King, but decided simply to put it in more basic terms. ‘Lady, you are our guest, and it would take very little to turn you to a prisoner. I don’t know what fate those from whom we rescued you had in mind for you, but I can guess.’ Inspecting the other four girls closely, he said, ‘The five of you would bring us enough wealth on the slave block to live on for several lifetimes.’ Pointing an accusing finger at her, he added, ‘Though we would certainly lose some profit for your foul temper.’ He rose. ‘So don’t tempt me!’

  He turned away, and she said, ‘I haven’t dismissed you!’

  Reaching the door, he turned and said, ‘When you learn some manners and some gratitude for those who saved you from cut-throats, we’ll talk. Until then you can stay in this wagon!’

  He left the wagon and closed the door behind, saying to the guard, ‘Don’t let them leave for a while.’

  The soldier saluted and Nicholas returned to his bedroll. He rolled it up and motioned to Marcus and Amos to follow him. A short distance from the others, he said, ‘Only the three of us, and Calis, know what’s really at stake here, so we can’t lose sight of that. But this situation we find ourselves in has possibilities.’

  ‘How?’ asked Amos.

  ‘We can take this loud and rude child to her future husband and put ourselves in good stead with him, and arrive in the city with a plausible story: we’re another mercenary company and we just happened by at the right time.’

  Marcus called Tuka over to where they stood. When the little man joined them, Marcus asked, ‘What can we expect when we reach this City of the Serpent River?’

  ‘Encosi?’

  ‘He means, does the Overlord keep a watch at the gate, or shall we have to inform any official of our presence in the city?’ said Nicholas.

  Tuka smiled. ‘You shall be wanting to hire a crier to announce to all your great deeds, so that you may be offered rich commissions, Encosi. As far as the Overlord is concerned, what occurs in the city is of little consequence, so long as his peace is not being too disturbed.’

  Ghuda said, ‘I’ve visited some places like that. Treat it like an armed camp and you’ll do well.’

  Amos said, ‘We’ve got one small problem before we need to worry too much about the city.’

  Nicholas nodded. ‘Shingazi’s Landing.’

  Marcus said, ‘You think those bandits in the boats will be waiting there?’

  ‘We have to assume so, otherwise it could be a short trip.’ He asked Amos, ‘Did everyone get armed?’

  ‘Not as well as I would have liked. We have a half-dozen short bows, and every man has something that looks like a sword. No shields, and the ones the Jeshandi use are made out of hide, anyway. No armor. As mercenary companies go, we’re a pretty poor one.’

  Nicholas said, ‘We do have one advantage.’

  ‘That being?’ asked Harry.

  ‘They don’t know we’re coming.’

  An hour after Nicholas had left the Ranjana’s presence, one of the handmaidens had tried to leave the wagon and was prevented from doing so by the guard. That set up a howling exchange between the guard and two of the girls and forced Nicholas to return. At the end of his patience, he simply used a strong hand and pushed the girls back inside, closing the door, then ordered it barred.

  As he left, he noticed Brisa looking on with an expression that could only be called insufferably well pleased. With the coming fight on his mind, Nicholas was in no mood for smugness. ‘Give me half an excuse, and I’ll toss you in there with them.’

  Brisa pulled her dagger and made a show of testing the edge with her thumb. ‘Oh, please, brave Captain. Please.’

  Nicholas waved her away in disgust. A shout went up from the Jeshandi camp, and suddenly there was a flurry of movement.

  Amos came to Nicholas and said, ‘They’re striking their camp.’

  Nicholas nodded. ‘We’d better be on our way, as well. Tuka says that if we roll all day and an hour into the night, we can arrive at this landing at sunset the next day.’

  Amos stroked his chin. ‘Talk it over with Ghuda, but I think it might be wise if we pulled up a little short and showed up at dawn the day following.’

  Nicholas considered. It was a truism of battle that had been drilled into him by his teachers that men were at their worst at dawn. Either still asleep or fatigued from long, boring, quiet guard duty, they were at their least alert just before sunrise. ‘I’ll talk to Ghuda.’

  A few minutes after the order was given to move, every Jeshandi tent had been taken down and the community was moving out. Nicholas was impressed. Before his own little caravan was ready, they had completely vanished from sight.

  The heat along the river was more moderate than upon the plateau, but not by much. And what was gained in slightly cooler temperatures was more than offset by biting flies. Nicholas rode on the second wagon, the Ranjana’s, next to Ghuda, who turned out to be an experienced hand with horses in harness. As the four wagons were moved out, Nicholas could hear the Ranjana’s complaints echoing from within his wagon. The girl seemed oblivious to the fact that mere hours before, sixteen bandits had held them prisoner, and one had died because he had wanted to indulge himself in the pleasure of their bodies.

  After a few minutes, Nicholas was startled by a touch on his shoulder. He almost jumped off the wagon, but he maintained enough composure to turn and discover a face looking out of a tent flap in the front of the wagon. One of the handmaidens said, ‘My mistress complains of the heat.’

  ‘Good,’ said Nicholas. Something about the girl irritated him more than anyone he had known since his older sister, who had been a serious plague for a small boy. But even Elena had turned into a reasonable human being once Nicholas had stopped playing little-brother tricks on her.

  A moment later the complaint was repeated. Nicholas turned and saw a different girl at the window. ‘If your mistress had the manners to personally come and ask me nicely to take down the canvas walls, I might consider it.’

  There was a flurry of voices from within and the first maid reappeared. ‘My mistress requests most modestly that the walls of the wagon be raised to admit some air.’

  Deciding not to push the issue, Nicholas turned and climbed down from the wagon. As they were moving slowly enough to permit those not in the wagons to walk alongside, it was not difficult for him to walk along and untie the cords binding the canvas sides. He then pulled the cords that raised the canvas and tied them off.

  A particularly pretty maid leaned out. ‘My mistress thanks the brave captain.’

  Nicholas thew a half-
aggravated glance over his shoulder and saw the Ranjana staring off to the side of the road, ignoring him. He decided the maid had presumed to be polite on the Ranjana’s behalf.

  The day passed without incident, and Nicholas took stock of their situation, conferring with Ghuda on various options. At one point the old fighter said, ‘There’s one thing about those boys that troubles me.’

  ‘What?’ asked Nicholas.

  Ghuda flicked the reins and said, ‘They weren’t what they seemed to be. When we buried them I got a good look, and they weren’t soldiers.’

  ‘Bandits?’

  ‘No.’ Ghuda looked concerned. ‘If this Tuka is telling us true, the raid was conducted in pretty decent fashion, nothing fancy, but effective. The company set to guard this wagon train was good, according to Tuka. But those fifteen we hit were as green a bunch as I’ve seen in the field. Decent swordsmen, who could fight as individuals, I think, but there was nothing like order among them.’ He shook his head. ‘Half of them … their hands were soft, and despite their clothing, they weren’t poor bandits. More like rich boys in costume.’

  Nicholas shook his head. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think someone expected these wagons to be found, maybe by the Jeshandi.’ Ghuda scratched his chin. ‘I think we’re only seeing a little bit of what there is to see.’

  Nicholas said, ‘So you think there may be no one waiting at Shingazi’s Landing to meet those men.’

  ‘Or someone who’s there to ensure that if they do show up, they don’t go any farther.’

  Nicholas nodded. He climbed down from the wagon and ran to the first wagon, to where Tuka sat next to Marcus. ‘Tuka,’ Nicholas called.

  The little man looked down. ‘Yes, Encosi.’

  ‘Is there anyplace between here and Shingazi’s Landing that you would judge a likely spot for an ambush?’

  Tuka thought, then said, ‘Yes, Encosi. There is being a wonderful place a half-day before us, where a small band might be causing great difficulty for an army.’