Magician: Master

by Raymond Feist

  Laurie said, “We will keep that in mind, Lucas. What of your family? I have not seen them around.”

  Lucas seemed to shrink into himself, “My wife is dead, Laurie, of the fever, a year ago. My sons are both in the army. I have heard little of them in a year. Last time I received a message, they were in the north with Lords Borric and Brucal.

  “The city is full of veterans of the war. You can see them everywhere. They are the ones with missing limbs, or blind eyes. But they always wear their old tabards. And a pathetic sight they are, too.” He got a faraway look in his eyes. “I just hope my boys don’t end up like that.”

  Laurie and Kasumi said nothing. Lucas came out of his reverie. “I must return downstairs. Supper will be ready in four hours, though nothing like I used to serve.” As the innkeeper turned to go, he said, “If you need to contact the Mockers, let me know.”

  After he had left, Kasumi said, “It is a hard thing to know your country, Laurie, and still look upon the war as glorious.”

  Laurie nodded.

  —

  THE WAREHOUSE WAS dark and musty. Except for Laurie and Kasumi and two fresh horses, it was empty. They had stayed at the Rainbow Parrot the night before and had purchased new mounts at great expense, then had tried to leave the city. When they had reached the city gates, they had been stopped by a detachment of Bas-Tyra’s guards. When it was obvious that the guards were not likely to let them leave without trouble, Laurie and Kasumi had broken away from them, and a mad dash through the city had followed. They had lost their pursuers in the Poor Quarter and had returned to the Rainbow Parrot. Lucas had sent word to the Upright Man, and now they waited for a thief to guide them out of the city.

  A whistle broke the silence, and Laurie and Kasumi had their swords in hand in an instant. A high-pitched chuckle greeted them, and a small figure dropped from above. In the dark it was difficult to see where the figure sprang from, but Laurie suspected their visitor had been hiding in the rafters for some time.

  The figure stepped forward, and in the dim light they could see it was a boy, no older than thirteen. “There’s a party at Mother’s,” the newcomer said.

  “And a good time will be had by all,” Laurie answered.

  “You’re the travelers, then.”

  “You’re the guide?” asked Kasumi, taking no effort to hide the surprise in his voice.

  The boy’s voice was filled with bravado. “Aye. Jimmy the Hand is your guide. And a better one in all Krondor you’ll not find.”

  Laurie said, “What’s to be done?”

  “First there’s the matter of payment. It’s a hundred sovereigns each.”

  Without comment Laurie dug out several small gems and handed them over. “Will these do?”

  The boy turned to the warehouse door and cracked it slightly, admitting a shaft of moonlight. He inspected the gems with an expert’s eye and returned to stand before the two fugitives. “These’ll do. For another hundred, you can have this.” He offered a piece of parchment.

  Laurie took it, but couldn’t make out what was written on it in the dim light. “What is it?”

  Jimmy chuckled. “A royal warrant, allowing the bearer to travel the King’s Highway.”

  “Is it genuine?” asked the minstrel.

  “My word. I nicked it myself from a trader from Ludland this morning. It’s valid for another month.”

  “Done,” said Laurie, and the minstrel gave the boy another gem.

  When the gems were safely in the thief’s pouch, he said, “Soon we’ll be hearing a brouhaha at the gate. A few of the boys will put on some mummery for the guards. When everything’s up in the wind, we’ll slip through.”

  He returned to the door and looked out without further comment. While they waited, Kasumi whispered, “Can he be trusted?”

  “No, but we have no choice. If the Upright Man could show a larger profit by turning us in, he might. But the Mockers have little love for the guards, and now less than usual, according to Lucas, so it is unlikely. Still, keep your wits about you.”

  Time stretched on interminably, then suddenly shouts could be heard. Jimmy signaled with a sharp whistle, which was answered by another from outside. “It’s time,” he said, and was out the door.

  Laurie and Kasumi led their horses out after him. “Follow closely and quickly,” their small guide said as he set off.

  They rounded the corner of a building and could see the north gate. A group of men were involved in a brawl, many appearing to be sailors from the docks. The guards were doing their best to restore order, but each time one pushed a combatant away from the fray, another would appear from the shadows around the gate and join in. In a few minutes every guard was involved in breaking up the fight, and Jimmy said, “Now!”

  He broke from the building, with the travelers close behind, and dashed to the wall next to the gatehouse. They edged their way along in the shadows, the horses’ clatter covered by the noise of the brawl. When they were near the gate, a single guard could be seen, on the other side, whom they hadn’t been able to see from their previous location.

  Laurie gripped Jimmy’s shoulder. “We’ll have to take him quickly.”

  Jimmy said, “No. If weapons are drawn, the guards will leave that little bit of fun like a burning whorehouse. Leave him to me.”

  Jimmy sprang forward and ran to the guard. As the guard brought his spear forward across his chest and shouted, “Halt!” Jimmy kicked him hard in the leg, above the boot. The man let out a howl, then looked at his small assailant with fury on his face. “Why you little—”

  Jimmy stuck out his tongue and started to run toward the docks. The guard set out in hot pursuit, and the two travelers slipped through the gate. Once outside the city, they mounted quickly and rode off. As they rode away from Krondor, they could hear the sounds of the brawl.

  —

  THEY RESTED A day at Darkmoor, in an inn in the town below the castle. They had been two days in the hills and needed to rest their mounts before journeying over the grasslands to Malac’s Cross. The town was quiet, and little of interest occurred until the inn door opened and a man in dirty brown robes entered. The man was old and bent with years, and thin to the point of gauntness. The innkeeper looked up from cleaning ale cups and said, “What do you wish?”

  Softly the old man said, “Please, sir, a little food.”

  “Can you pay?”

  “I can fashion spells to rid your inn of vermin, should you be plagued by rats, sir. Perhaps—”

  “Begone! I have no food for beggars or magicians. Get out! And if I find my milk clabbered, I’ll set my dogs upon you!”

  The magician looked around. Laurie reached across the table and touched Kasumi upon the arm. His Tsurani heritage was betraying him, as he was showing open astonishment at what he saw. Before him stood a magician, being treated as shabbily as his clothes. Laurie’s touch caused him to regain his composure. The magician slowly turned and left the inn.

  Laurie sprang up and crossed to the innkeeper. Slapping some coins on the table, he said, “Quick. A joint of cold meat, a loaf of bread, and a skin of wine.”

  The innkeeper looked surprised, but the coins on the bar convinced him to do as ordered. When the items ordered were upon the bar, Laurie scooped them up. He paused a moment to grab a wedge of cheese off a platter and rushed out the door. Kasumi was as amazed as the innkeeper appeared to be.

  Laurie looked down the road and saw the old man, his posture erect as he moved along with a staff in one hand, using it as a walking stick. He ran after the man and, when he had overtaken him, said, “Excuse me, but I was in the tavern a moment ago, and…” He held out the food and wineskin.

  He saw pride diminish in the old man’s eyes. “Why are you doing this, minstrel?”

  Laurie said, “I have a friend who is a magician, a special friend. He did me a great kindness once, and I…it’s something of a repayment.”

  The magician accepted this explanation and took the food. While he s
truggled with the burden, Laurie slipped a pair of gems into the magician’s empty belt pouch. There would be enough there to insure the magician never had to go hungry again if he lived modestly. “What is this magician’s name; perhaps I know him?”

  “Milamber.”

  The old man shook his head. “I have not heard of him. Where does he abide?”

  Laurie looked to the west, where the sun set behind the hills. With strong emotions in his voice, he said, “Far from here, my friend. Very far from here.”

  —

  THE SHIP BEAT against the waves, while the crew reefed the sails. Laurie and Kasumi stood on deck watching the spires and towers of Rillanon as the ship put into harbor. “A fabulous city,” said the former Tsurani officer. “Not as large as the cities of home, but so different. All those tiny fingers of stone and the colors of the banners make it look like a city of legend.”

  “Strange,” said Laurie, “Pug and I felt the same when we first saw Jamar. I suppose it is simply that they’re so different from each other.”

  They stood on the open deck, cool in the breezes, but still able to feel the warmth of the sun. Both were dressed in the finest clothing they could buy in Salador, for they wished to be presentable at court and knew they had little chance of being admitted to see the King should they look like simple vagabonds.

  The ship’s captain ordered the last sails taken in, and the ship slid into place alongside the docks a few moments later. Ropes were thrown to men waiting on the quay, and the vessel was quickly made fast.

  As soon as they were able, the two travelers were down the gangway and making their way through the city. Rillanon, the fabled and ancient capital of the Kingdom of the Isles, stood bedecked in colors, flashing brightly in the sunlight, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the atmosphere of the streets and markets. Everywhere they passed, people spoke in hushed tones, as if they feared someone might overhear them, and even the hawkers in the street stalls seemed to offer their wares halfheartedly.

  It was nearly the noon hour, and without seeking rooms, they headed straight for the palace. When they reached the main gate, an officer in the purple and gold of the Royal Household Guard inquired their business.

  Laurie said, “We bring messages of the greatest importance to the King, regarding the war.”

  The officer considered. They were dressed well enough and didn’t appear to be the usual madmen with predictions of doom, or prophets of some nameless truth, but they were not officials of the court or army either. He decided on the course of action followed most often in the armies of all nations in all times: passing them along to a higher authority.

  A guard escorted them to the office of an assistant to the Royal Chancellor. Here they were made to wait for a half hour before the assistant would see them. They entered the man’s office and were confronted by the Steward of the Royal Household, a self-important little man with a potbelly and a chronic wheeze when he spoke. “What business do you gentlemen have?” he inquired, making it clear that his estimation of them was provisional.

  “We carry word to the King regarding the war,” Laurie answered.

  “Oh?” he sniffed, “and why aren’t these documents or messages or whatever they are being delivered by the proper military pouch?”

  Kasumi, obviously frustrated with the wait now that they were in the palace, said, “Let us speak with someone who can take us to the King.”

  The Steward of the Royal Household looked outraged. “I am Baron Gray. I am the one to whom you will speak, man! And I have a good mind to have the guards toss you into the street. His Majesty cannot be bothered with every charlatan who tries to seek an audience. I am the one you must satisfy, and you have not.”

  Kasumi stepped forward and gripped the man by the front of his tunic. “And I am Kasumi of the Shinzawai. My father is Kamatsu, Lord of the Shinzawai, and Warchief of the Kanazawai Clan. I will see your King!”

  Lord Gray paled visibly. He frantically pulled at Kasumi’s hand and tried to speak. His shock at what he had just heard and what he felt at being handled this way raced within him. It all proved to be too much for him to speak. He nodded frantically until Kasumi released him.

  Brushing at his tunic front, the man said, “The Royal Chancellor will be informed—at once.”

  He walked to a door, and Laurie watched him in case he called for guards, thinking them madmen. Whatever else the man thought, Kasumi’s manner convinced him he was something quite different from anything heretofore seen. A messenger was sent, and in a few minutes an elderly man entered the room.

  He simply said, “What is it?”

  “Your Grace,” said the Steward, “I think you had best talk to these men and consider if His Majesty should see them.”

  The man turned to study the two other men in the office. “I am Duke Caldric, the Royal Chancellor. What reason do you have to see His Majesty?”

  Kasumi said, “I bring a message from the Emperor of Tsuranuanni.”

  —

  THE KING SAT in a pavilion on a balcony overlooking the harbor. Below, a mountain river passed directly before the palace, part of the original defense design though no longer needed as a moat. Graceful bridges could be seen arching above it, carrying people from one side of the river to the other.

  King Rodric sat, seemingly attentive to what Kasumi was saying. He toyed absently with a golden ball in his right hand, while Kasumi outlined in detail the Emperor’s message of peace.

  Rodric was silent for a while after Kasumi finished, as if weighing what he had heard. Kasumi handed a sheaf of documents to Duke Caldric, then waited for the King’s answer. After another moment of silence Kasumi added, “The Emperor’s proposals are outlined in these parchments in detail, Your Majesty, should you wish to study them at your leisure. I will wait upon your convenience to carry your reply.”

  Still Rodric was silent, and the courtiers gathered nearby looked at one another nervously. Kasumi was about to speak again when the King said, “I am always amused when watching my little subjects hurrying about the city, like so many ants. I often wonder what they think, living out their simple little lives.” He turned to look at the two emissaries. “You know, I could order any one of them put to death. Just pick one out, from this very balcony, should I choose. I could just say to my guards, ‘See that fellow in the blue cap? Go hack his head off,’ and they would, you know. That’s because I’m King.”

  Laurie felt a chill run up his back. This was worse than anything he had imagined. The King seemed not to have heard a single word spoken. Kasumi said very quietly in the Tsurani language, “If we should fail, one of us must carry word back to my father.”

  At this, the King’s head snapped up. His eyes grew wide, and he spoke with a tremble in his voice. “What is this?” His voice rose in pitch. “I will have no one whispering!” His face took on a feral appearance. “You know they are always whispering about me, the disloyal ones. But I know who they are, and I will see them on their knees before me; yes I will. That traitor Kerus was on his knees before I had him hanged. I would have hanged his family had they not fled to Kesh.” He then studied Kasumi. “You think to trick me with your strange story and these so-called documents. Any fool could see through your guise. You are spies!”

  Duke Caldric looked pained and tried to calm the King. Several guards stood nearby, shifting their weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable at what they were hearing.

  The King pushed the solicitous Duke away. His voice took on a near-hysterical tone. “You are agents of that traitor Borric. He and my uncle were plotting to take my throne. But I stopped that. My uncle Erland is dead….” He paused for a moment, as if confused. “No, I mean he is ill. That is why my loyal Duke Guy was sent from Bas-Tyra to rule Krondor until my beloved uncle was well….” His eyes seemed to clear for a moment, then he said, “I am not feeling well. Please excuse me. I will speak to you again tomorrow.” He rose from his chair. After he had taken a step, he turned back to look at Laurie
and Kasumi. “What was it you wanted to see me about? Oh yes, peace. Yes, that is good. This war is a terrible thing. We must end it so that I can go back to my building. We must begin the building again.”

  A page took the King’s arm and led him away. The Royal Chancellor said, “Follow me, and say nothing.”

  He hurried them through the palace and led them to a room with two guards before the door. One guard opened the door for them, and they entered. Inside they found a bedroom with two large beds and a table with chairs in the corner. The Chancellor said, “Your arrival is poorly timed. Our King is, as you no doubt can see, a sick man, and I fear that he will not recover. I hope he will be better able to understand your message tomorrow. Please stay here until you are sent for. A meal will be brought to you.”

  He crossed over to the door, and before he left said, “Until tomorrow.”

  —

  A SHOUT AWOKE them in the night. Laurie rose quickly and went to the window. Peering through the curtains, he could see a figure on the balcony below. In his nightshirt, King Rodric stood sword in hand, poking into the bushes. Laurie opened the window as Kasumi joined him. From below they could hear the King’s cries: “Assassins! They have come!” Guards ran out and searched the bushes, while court pages led the shrieking monarch back to his room.

  Kasumi said, “In truth, the gods have touched him. They must surely hate your nation.”

  Laurie said, “I am afraid, friend Kasumi, that the gods have little to do with this. Right now I think we had best see to finding a way out of here. I have a feeling that His Royal Majesty is ill suited for the finer points of negotiating a peace. I think we had best make our way west and speak with Duke Borric.”

  “Will he be able to stop the war, this Duke?”

  Laurie crossed over to the chair upon which his clothing was draped. Picking up his tunic, he said, “I hope so. If the lords here can watch the King behave in such a manner and do nothing, then we will have civil war soon. Better to settle one war before beginning another.”