Silverthorn

by Raymond Feist

  “How long will it last?” said Kulgan, obviously in awe of his former student.

  “Until the seal is broken.”

  Arutha’s face betrayed the first flickerings of hope. “She will live?”

  “She lives now,” said Pug. “Arutha, she exists between moments, and will stay that way, forever young, until the spell is removed. But then time will once again flow for her and she will need a cure, if one exists.”

  Kulgan gave out with an audible sigh. “Then we have gained that which we needed most. Time.”

  “Yes, but how much?” asked Tully.

  Arutha’s voice was firm. “Enough. I shall find a cure.”

  Martin said, “What do you intend?”

  Arutha looked at his brother, and for the first time that day was free of the crippling grief, the madness of despair. Coldly, evenly he said, “I will go to Sarth.”

  EIGHT

  VOW

  Lyam sat unmoving.

  He studied Arutha for a long moment and shook his head. “No. I forbid it.”

  Arutha registered no reaction as he said, “Why?”

  Lyam sighed. “Because it’s too dangerous, and you’ve other responsibilities here.” Lyam rose from behind the table in Arutha’s private quarters and crossed over to his brother. Gently placing his hand on Arutha’s arm, he said, “I know your nature, Arutha. You hate sitting idly by while matters are moving to conclusion without you. I know you cannot abide the thought of Anita’s fate resting in hands other than your own, but in good conscience I cannot allow you to travel to Sarth.”

  Arutha’s expression remained clouded, as it had been since the assassination attempt the day before. But with the death of Laughing Jack, Arutha’s rage had fled, seeming to turn inward, becoming cold detachment. Kulgan and Tully’s revelation of a possible source of knowledge existing in Sarth had cleansed his mind of the initial madness. Now he had something to do, something that required clarity of judgment, the ability to think rationally, coolly, dispassionately. Fixing his brother with a penetrating look, he said, “I’ve been away for months, traveling abroad with you, so the business of the Western Realm can endure my absence for another few weeks. As for my safety,” he added, his voice rising in inflection, “we’ve all seen just how safe I am in my own palace!” He fell into silence for a moment, then said, “I will go to Sarth.”

  Martin had been quietly sitting in the corner, observing the debate, listening closely to both his half brothers. He leaned forward in his chair. “Arutha, I’ve known you since you were a babe and I know your moods as well as my own. You think it impossible to leave vital matters to the care of others. You have a certain arrogance to your nature, little brother. It is a trait, a flaw of character if you will, we all share.”

  Lyam blinked as if surprised to be included in the indictment. “All…?”

  The corner of Arutha’s mouth turned up in a half-smile as he let out a deep sigh. “All, Lyam,” Martin said. “We’re all three Borric’s sons, and for all his good qualities, Father could be arrogant. Arutha, in temper you and I are as one; I simply mask myself better. I can think of little to make me chafe more than sitting while others are about tasks I feel better able to accomplish, but at the last, there is no reason for you to go. There are others better suited. Tully, Kulgan, and Pug can set pen to parchment with all the questions required for the Abbot at Sarth. And there are those better suited to carry such messages quickly and without notice through the woods between here and Sarth.”

  Lyam scowled. “Such as a certain duke from the West, I expect.”

  Martin smiled his crooked smile, a reflection of Arutha’s. “Not even Arutha’s Pathfinders are as adept at traveling through the woods as one elven-taught. If this Murmandamus has agents along the woodland trails, there is no one south of Elvandar more likely to win past them than I.”

  Lyam cast his eyes heavenward in disgust. “You are no better than he.” He crossed to the doors and pulled them open. Arutha and Martin followed behind. Gardan waited without, and his company of guards snapped to attention as their monarch left the chamber. To Gardan, Lyam said, “Captain, should either of our half-witted brothers attempt to leave the palace, arrest him and lock him up. That is our royal will. Understood?”

  Gardan saluted. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Without another word, Lyam strode down the hall toward his own quarters, his face a mask of worry and preoccupation. Behind him Gardan’s guards exchanged astonished glances, then watched Arutha and Martin leave in another direction. Arutha’s face was flushed, his anger only partially hidden, while Martin’s expression revealed nothing of his feelings. When the two brothers were out of sight, questioning glances passed from soldier to soldier, for they had heard every word exchanged between the King and his brothers, until Gardan spoke in soft but commanding tones. “Steady on. You’re at post.”

  —

  “Arutha!”

  Arutha and Martin, who had been speaking softly as they walked, halted as the Keshian Ambassador hurried to overtake them, his retinue following behind. He reached them, bowed slightly, and said, “Your Highness, Your Grace.”

  “Good day, Your Excellency,” Arutha responded somewhat curtly. The presence of Lord Hazara-Khan reminded him there were obligations of office going unmet. Sooner or later, Arutha knew, he would have to return his attention to the mundane concerns of governance. That thought rankled him.

  The Ambassador said, “I have been informed, Your Highness, that I and my party will require permission to quit the palace. Is this so?”

  Arutha’s irritation intensified, though now it was directed at himself. He had secured the palace as a matter of course, but had done so without considering the often sticky question of diplomatic immunity, that necessary oil in the usually squeaky machinery of international relations. With a note of apology he said, “My lord Hazara-Khan, I am sorry. In the heat of the moment…”

  “I fully understand, Highness.” Looking quickly about, he said, “May I also have a brief moment? We could speak as we walk.” Arutha indicated he might, and Martin dropped back to walk with Hazara-Khan’s sons and bodyguard. The Ambassador said, “It would be a poor time to pester the King over treaties. I think it a proper time to visit my people in the Jal-Pur. I will stay there awhile. I’ll return to your city, or to Rillanon, as needed, to discuss treaties, after…things have settled.”

  Arutha studied the Ambassador. Volney’s intelligence on him had revealed that the Empress had dispatched one of her finest minds to negotiate with the Kingdom. “My lord Hazara-Khan, I thank you for considering my own feelings and those of my family at this time.”

  The Ambassador waved away the remark. “There is no honor in besting those afflicted by sorrow and woe. When this evil business is over, I desire you and your brother to come to the negotiating table with clear minds, when we discuss the Vale of Dreams. I wish to win concessions from the best you have to offer, Highness. Now it would be too simple to gain advantage. You need Kesh’s approbation in the matter of the King’s forthcoming wedding to the Princess Magda of Roldem. As she is the only daughter of King Carole, and if anything happens to her brother, Crown Prince Dravos, any child of hers would sit the thrones of both the Isles and Roldem, and as Roldem has long been seen as lying within Kesh’s traditional sphere of influence…well, you can see how we are concerned.”

  “My compliments to the Imperial Intelligence Corps, Excellency,” said Arutha in rueful appreciation. Only he and Martin had known.

  “Officially, no such group exists, though we do have certain sources—those wishing to maintain the status quo.”

  “I appreciate your candor, Excellency. We also must concern our discussions with the question of a new Keshian war fleet being constructed in Durbin in violation of the Treaty of Shamata.”

  Lord Hazara-Khan shook his head and said with affection, “Oh, Arutha, I look forward to bargaining with you.”

  “And I with you. I’ll order the guards to allow you
r party to leave at will. I only ask that you ensure that no one not of your retinue slips out in disguise.”

  “I shall stand at the gate and name every soldier and servant as they pass, Highness.”

  Arutha had no doubts he would be able to do just that. “No matter what fate brings, Abdur Rachman Memo Hazara-Khan, even should we someday face each other across a battlefield, I will count you a generous, honorable friend.” He extended his hand.

  Abdur took it. “You do me honor, Highness. As long as I speak with Kesh’s voice, she will negotiate only in good faith, toward honorable ends.”

  The Ambassador signaled for his companions to join him, and after asking Arutha’s leave they departed. Martin came to Arutha’s side and said, “At least we now have one fewer problem for the moment.”

  Arutha nodded in agreement. “For the moment. That wily old fox will probably end up with this palace for his embassy and I’ll be left with some flophouse near the docks to hold court in.”

  “Then we shall need to have Jimmy recommend one of the better ones to us.” Suddenly struck by a thought, Martin said, “Where is he? I’ve not seen him since we questioned Laughing Jack.”

  “Out and about. I had a few things for him to do.” Martin indicated understanding and the two brothers continued down the hall.

  —

  Laurie spun at the sound of someone entering his room. Carline closed the door behind her, then stopped as she observed the singer’s travel bundle resting next to his lute upon his bed. He had just finished tying it and he wore his old travel clothing. Her eyes narrowed and she nodded once, knowingly. “Going somewhere?” Carline’s tone was icy. “Just thought you’d take a quick run up to Sarth and ask a few questions, right?”

  Laurie raised his hands in supplication. “Just for a while, beloved. I’ll be quickly back.”

  Sitting down on the bed, she said, “Oh! You’re as bad as Arutha or Martin. You’d think everyone in the palace didn’t possess the brains to blow their noses without one of you telling them how. So you’ll get your head lopped off by some bandit, or…something. Laurie, I get so angry sometimes.” He sat next to her and placed his arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “We’ve had so little time together since we arrived, and everything is so…terrible.” Her voice broke as she began to cry. “Poor Anita,” she said after a while. Defiantly wiping away her tears, she went on, “I hate it when I cry.

  “And I’m still angry with you. You were going to run off and leave without a good-bye. I knew it. Well, if you go, don’t come back. Just sent a message about what you find out—if you live that long—but don’t set foot in this palace. I don’t ever want to see you again.” She rose to her feet and made for the door.

  Laurie was after her in an instant. He took her by the arm and turned her to face him. “Beloved, please…don’t…”

  With tears in her eyes she said, “If you loved me, you’d ask Lyam for my hand. I’m done with sweet words, Laurie. I’m done with vague unease. I’m done with you.”

  Laurie felt panic overtake him. He had been ignoring Carline’s earlier threat to be through with him or married to him by the time she returned to Rillanon, as much from choice as from the pressure of events. “I wasn’t going to say anything until this business with Anita was resolved, but—I’ve decided. I can’t let you leave me out of your life. I do want to marry you.”

  Suddenly her eyes were wide. “What?”

  “I said I want to marry—”

  She covered his mouth with her hand. Then she kissed him. For a long silent moment no words were necessary. She pushed away, a dangerous half-smile on her face. Shaking her head in the negative, she spoke softly. “No. Say nothing more. I’ll not have you fog my mind again with honeyed words.” She slowly walked to the door and opened it. “Guards!” she called and in an instant a pair appeared. Pointing at an astonished Laurie, she said, “Don’t let him move! If he tries to leave, sit on him!”

  Carline vanished from sight down the hall, and the guards turned amused expressions on Laurie. He sighed and sat down quietly upon his bed.

  A few minutes later the Princess was back, an irritated Father Tully in tow. The old prelate had his night robe hastily gathered about him, as he had been almost ready for sleep. Lyam, looking equally inconvenienced, followed his sister. Laurie fell backward onto the bed with an audible groan as Carline marched into the room and pointed at him. “He told me he wants to marry me!”

  Laurie sat up. Lyam regarded his sister with an astonished expression. “Should I congratulate him or have him hung? From your tone it’s difficult to tell.”

  Laurie bolted upright as if struck by a needle and moved toward the King. “Your Majesty—”

  “Don’t let him say anything,” interrupted Carline, pointing an accusatory finger at Laurie. In a menacing whisper, she said, “He is the king of all liars and a seducer of the innocent. He’ll talk his way out of it.”

  Lyam shook his head as he muttered, “Innocent?” Suddenly his face clouded. “Seducer?” He fixed his gaze upon Laurie.

  “Your Majesty, please,” began Laurie.

  Carline crossed her arms and impatiently tapped her foot on the floor. “He’s doing it,” she muttered. “He’s talking his way out of marrying me.”

  Tully interposed himself between Carline and Laurie. “Majesty, if I may?”

  Looking confused, Lyam said, “I wish you would.”

  Tully looked first at Laurie, then at Carline. “Am I to understand, Highness, that you wish to wed this man?”

  “Yes!”

  “And you, sir?”

  Carline began to say something, but Lyam cut her off. “Let him speak!”

  Laurie stood blinking at the sudden silence. He shrugged as if to say he didn’t understand the commotion. “Of course I do, father.”

  Lyam looked close to the end of his patience. “Then what is the difficulty?” He said to Tully, “Post bans, oh, next week sometime. After the last few days we should wait a bit. We’ll have the wedding after…things settle a bit. If you have no objections, Carline?” She shook her head, her eyes moist. Lyam continued, “Someday, when you’re an old married lady with dozens of grandchildren, you’ll have to explain this all to me.” To Laurie he said, “You’re a braver man than most,” then, with a glance at his sister, added, “and luckier than most.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ll retire.”

  Carline threw her arms around his neck and gave him a fierce hug. “Thank you.”

  Still shaking his head, Lyam left the room. Tully said, “There must be a reason for this urgent need of betrothal at this late hour.” He held his hands palms out and quickly added, “But I’ll wait to hear it some other time. Now, if you’ll excuse me—” He gave Carline no opportunity to say anything as he almost dashed from the room. The guards followed after, closing the door behind them. Carline smiled at Laurie after they were alone. “Well, it is done. Finally!”

  Laurie grinned down at her and as he put his arms about her waist. “Yes, and with little pain.”

  “Little pain!” she said, punching him in the stomach with not inconsiderable effect. Laurie doubled over, the wind knocked out of him. He fell backward, landing upon his bed. Carline came to the edge of the bed and knelt next to him. As he tried to sit up, she pushed him back on the bed with her hand on his chest. “What am I, some dowdy drudge you must endure for the sake of political ambitions?” She playfully pulled at the leather thongs of his tunic. “I should have you thrown in the dungeon. Little pain, you monster.”

  Gripping a handful of her dress, he yanked her forward, bringing her face close enough to be kissed. With a grin, he said, “Hello, my love.” Then they were in each other’s arms.

  Later, Carline roused from a half-doze to say, “Happy?”

  Laurie laughed, causing her head to jiggle on his chest where it lay. “Of course.” Stroking her hair, he said, “What was all that about with your brother and T
ully?”

  She chuckled. “After almost a year of trying to get you to marry me, I wasn’t about to let you forget you proposed. For all I knew, you were simply trying to get rid of me so you could sneak away to Sarth.”

  “Sweet good night!” said Laurie, jumping out of bed. “Arutha!”

  Carline turned and settled back into the just-vacated pillow. “So you and my brother are both sneaking off.”

  “Yes—no, I mean—oh hell.” Laurie pulled on his trousers and stood looking about. “Where is my other boot? I’m at least an hour overdue.” When he was dressed, he came to sit next to her on the bed. “I must go. Arutha won’t let anything stop him. You knew that.”

  She held tightly to his arm. “I knew you’d both go. How do you plan to get out of the palace?”

  “Jimmy.”

  She nodded. “There’s an exit he forgot to mention to the royal architect, I expect.”

  “Something like that. I must go.”

  She clung to his arm for a moment. “You didn’t take your vows lightly, did you?”

  “Never.” He bent over to kiss her. “Without you, I am nothing.”

  Silently she cried, feeling at once filled and empty, knowing for certain she had found her life’s mate and fearing to lose him. As if reading her thoughts, he said, “I’ll be back, Carline; nothing could keep me from you.”

  “If you don’t, I’ll come after you.”

  With a quick kiss he was gone, the door closing quietly behind him. Carline burrowed deeply into the bed, holding on to the last remaining warmth of him as long as she could.

  —

  Laurie slipped through the door into Arutha’s suite while the guards in the hall were at the far end of their walking tour. In the dark he heard his name whispered. “Yes,” he replied.

  Arutha unshuttered a lantern, lighting the room. The single light source made the antechamber of Arutha’s suite appear cavernous. Arutha said, “You’re late.” To Laurie he and Jimmy appeared alien figures as they stood lit from below by the yellow lantern glow. Arutha wore simple mercenary garb: knee-high cavalier boots, heavy woollen trousers, a heavy leather vest over a blue tunic, and his rapier belted at his side. Over all he wore a heavy grey cloak, the deep hood thrown back over his shoulders, but what caused Laurie to stare for a moment was the light that seemed to come from Arutha’s eyes. About to embark upon the journey to Sarth at last, he was afire with impatience. “Lead the way.”