Rise of a Merchant Prince

by Raymond E. Feist

  Instead of leading Roo toward the front door, she prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 416

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  instead guided him up the stairs. He was afraid to speak, lest he wake her from some dream. Down a long corridor they walked and then she opened the door. She stepped across the threshold and gently pulled him through. Reaching around him, she pushed the door closed while he stood motionless, staring at the gigantic canopied bed that occupied the room.

  Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Whatever shreds of rational thought Roo still possessed vanished at that moment.

  In the darkness, Roo stared up at the canopy above. He could hear Sylvia breathing slowly and evenly and assumed she was asleep. He was exhausted, but also too keyed up to sleep. She was the most incredible women he had known. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but for the well-bred daughter of a rich merchant, she was an astonishing mix of playful childishness and wanton sen-suality. She made love like a veteran of the Sign of the White Wing and was willing—no, eager—to perform acts that would have appalled Karli.

  Thinking of his wife, he pushed aside a twinge of guilt. He knew now that he didn’t love her; he had married her from pity. He looked at where Sylvia lay, and sighed. This is the woman he should have upon his arm, he thought, not the dowdy little woman who was now at home, asleep in the belief he was discussing business with some shipping magnate. It was Sylvia whom he should be presenting to nobility, and it was Sylvia who should be bearing him children.

  His heart pounded in his chest and his love for Sylvia became a bittersweet pang. He lay upon his prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 417

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  side, staring at the barely seen outline of her in the darkness. In his boyhood dreams he had never imagined he would be the man he was at this moment, nor would he have dreamed that a woman of Sylvia Estherbrook’s stunning beauty and charm would be sharing her bed with him.

  Rolling on his back, he stared at the dark cloth above him and wondered at the miracle of change he had experienced since the night he and Erik had fled from the hounds in Ravensburg.

  Thinking of Erik made Roo wonder where his friend might be and what he was doing. He knew Erik was across the sea somewhere with Calis, de Loungville, and some men he didn’t know. And he had no idea what they were doing, but he suspected it was something dire. And he knew exactly why they were doing it.

  Feeling no peace at such thoughts, he gently reached out and ran his hand down the amazingly soft skin of the woman at his side. She instantly stirred and moved in a languid fashion. Without words she rolled over and came to him, engulfing him in her arms. Amazed at how she knew instantly what he wished, he left all thoughts of Erik behind.

  Erik pointed at the rocks. “To port! To port!”

  The storm raged as the steersman fought to pull the tiller hard, turning the ship to port and away from crashing death. Erik had stood at the prow of the dragon ship for hours, looking through the dim murk of the early morning light, swirling snow, and fog, trying to avoid running the ship aground.

  They had shot past the southern tip of Great Kesh, catching the current that they had been told prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 418

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  would carry them swiftly across the sea to Novindus.

  Days had passed and the dragon boat with its sixty-four passengers—Calis, de Loungville, Erik, Miranda, and sixty soldiers of Calis’s Eagles—sped across the ocean.

  The rowers pulled in shifts all day and all night, adding their muscle to the current, and the boat raced across a seemingly empty expanse of ocean. Miranda used her magical ability from time to time to judge their position and claimed they were where they should be.

  The weather had grown bitter cold and occasionally they would sight an iceberg floating northward.

  Miranda had told Erik one night that the southern pole of the world was captured by ice year round, a mass so large the mind couldn’t imagine, and from that massive shelf of ice pieces the size of cities would fall into the ocean, drifting northward to melt in the warm air of the Blue or Green Sea.

  Erik had remained dubious until one day he had seen what he had thought to be a sail on the horizon, only to find later in the day it was one of those huge pieces of ice Miranda had warned about. From that point forward they had kept extra watches and set the rowers to shifts around the clock to keep moving.

  They had found a peninsula of that ice-covered land, and unfortunately came upon it too quickly.

  They were now trying desperately to keep the ship from crashing against it. Calis had warned that if they were stranded there, they would die a cold, hungry death, and there was nothing that could be done to save them.

  “Row, damn you!” shouted Bobby de Loungville over the roar of surf, wind, and the groaning of wood prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 419

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  as the ship heaved and turned against every demand of nature.

  Erik could feel them moving sideways, as the powerful current took them into the tug of the surf.

  “More to port!” he shouted, and the two men on the tiller pushed to obey. Calis stood at the rear of the ship and added his superhuman strength, and the tiller creaked alarmingly. They had been warned that the long tillers of these Brijaner dragon ships could snap off, and then the only possible way to steer would be by controlling the stroke of the rowers.

  They had also been warned that even an experienced crew of Brijaners could do this only with difficulty, and no man on this boat was either experienced or a Brijaner.

  Miranda appeared upon the deck and with a large motion of both arms shouted a word that was nearly unheard at the bow where Erik watched. Suddenly a force pulled hard against the ship from the rear, and Erik had to grab at the rail to keep from going over into the water. The boat hesitated in its dash to destruction, and then stopped a moment in the water.

  Then the ship obeyed the rowers and tiller, turning to break free of the pull of the tide, and started to move on a course parallel to the coastline. Miranda let her hands drop and took a deep breath. She made her way to the bow of the boat and Erik watched her with interest. She shared the tiny cabin in the rear with the Captain, and Erik had some idea that this was more than mere courtesy on Calis’s part. There was something between them, though Erik couldn’t begin to guess what it might be. De Loungville acted like the Captain’s personal guard dog when Calis and Miranda were inside, and only an event of the gravest prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 420

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  consequence would cause a crewman to dare to try to get past him.

  Miranda was certainly attractive enough, thought Erik, as she came near, but there was something about her that still disturbed him in a way that made any notion of being intimate almost impossible to imagine. Almost, because like the other men on the boat, Erik hadn’t been with a woman in months.

  As she came to his side, she pointed dead ahead into the murk. “I dare not use another spell, certainly not one that powerful, for a few days, lest we call undue attention to ourselves. So pay heed: if you could see through this mess,” she said, “you would see a tiny grouping of three stars, almost a perfect equal triangle, two hands’ spans above the horizon, one hour after sundown. If you point toward that, you’ll eventually come to the coast of Novindus less than a day’s rowing from Ispar. Steer along the coastline, bearing to the northeast, and you’ll find the mouth of the river Dee. We need to use nonmagical means to find our destination.”

  Miranda was obviously tired from the magic she had employed to keep the boat off the rocks, and more talkative in five minutes than she had been the entire trip. Erik wondered if it was just because of the magic she used, or from some other reason, but was reluctant to ask if everything was all right. Then he considered that nothing associated with the v
oyage was right. Miranda was far closer to the truth of this mission than Erik, and Erik knew enough to expect they might not be coming back. He imagined she must be even more worried than he was. Finally he said, “Are you all right?”

  She looked at him in open surprise, her expres-

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  sion frozen for a long moment, then laughed. Erik was unsure of the cause of that laughter, but finally she gripped his arm, through the heavy fur cloak he wore, and said, “Yes, I’m all right.” She sighed. “The sighting spells I was using along the way were a whisper in the noise of a market at noon. The spell I just cast to keep us from the rocks was a shriek in the night. If someone is looking for us, or if wards have been set to detect magic . . .” Shaking her head, she turned away.

  “Miranda?” asked Erik.

  She halted and looked over her shoulder. “Yes, Erik?”

  “Are we going to get home, do you think?”

  Whatever amusement she had revealed a moment before vanished. She paused only briefly when she said, “Probably not.”

  Erik resumed his position, watching the murk for sudden danger. After another few hours, Alfred, the corporal from Darkmoor, came and said, “I’m relieving you, Sergeant.”

  Erik said, “Very well,” and returned to the rowing oars. Once he had broken Alfred down, stripped him of the rank and attitude that had made him a bully and brawler back home, the man had turned into a first-rate soldier. Erik considered it likely that he would be one of the first to be promoted to corporal when they returned to Krondor . . . then amended the thought to if they returned to Krondor.

  Other than the tiny cabin where the Captain and Miranda slept, the only place to sleep was either leaning over the extra oars behind the last rowers’

  bench, like a galley slave, or lying on the deck between the rowers. They slept in shifts. Lesser-

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  trained men might have come to blows, given the cramped quarters, the months at sea, and the coming danger, but de Loungville and Calis had picked the sixty most disciplined men in the company. Any temper was deferred, and any discomfort was kept to oneself.

  Erik lay down and almost instantly dropped off to sleep. Fatigue was a constant companion, and after years of soldiering and grabbing sleep when he could, little could stir his mind enough to keep him awake. But as he fell into slumber, he did wonder in passing how his friends back home were doing. He wondered if Roo was making any progress toward being a rich man, and how Jadow’s leg had healed, and how the other men in the command were training. He wished he had Greylock to talk to, and then he thought of Nakor. That funny little man, and Sho Pi, had not returned from Stardock with the Captain, and Erik pondered what they must be up to as sleep overtook him.

  A dozen young men and women laughed, while twice that number scowled, muttered, or jeered.

  “It’s true!” insisted Nakor.

  Sho Pi stood beside the man he had claimed as his master, looking to defend him should any of the angry students decide it was time to take matters into their own hands. He wasn’t concerned over Nakor’s ability to defend himself against up to a half dozen of them—he knew exactly how adept Nakor was at open-handed fighting, the Isalani style taught at the temple of Dala—but against a full dozen or more he would need help.

  “Sit down,” cried one of those who had been prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 423

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  laughing at one of those nearby who was jeering.

  “Why don’t you make me?” demanded the object of the instruction.

  Nakor said, “Wait a minute.” He crossed to where the two young men were standing opposite one another and grabbed each by the ear.

  It was a beautiful dawn at Stardock, and Nakor had gotten into a discussion with a student at the predawn breakfast. As the sun began to rise in the east, Nakor had decided to conduct a class outside, away from the musty dark halls that usually served for places of instruction. As he led the two howling young men into the center of the large circle, all three factions of students began to laugh.

  Sho Pi glanced up at the high window overlooking the lawn upon which the lesson was being conducted, and saw the faces at that window. Since being left in charge of the Academy, Nakor had left most of the daily operation as he had found it, though from time to time he had taken it upon himself to teach a lesson on one thing or another.

  Most of his time was spent with the nameless, mindless beggar who was now a fixture of the island.

  Each morning, two students were delegated to throwing the beggar into the lake, a marginal effort toward keeping the man clean. Once in a while one or another of the more ambitious students would try to apply soap to the man, often resulting in a bloody nose or black eye.

  When not soaking wet, the man scampered from place to place, watching what everyone else did, or he slept, or he haunted the kitchen area, trying to steal food unless it was given to him. When presented with meals, he knocked the plates over, as a child prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 424

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  might, and proceeded to squat and eat with his fingers from the floor.

  The rest of Nakor’s time was spent in the library, reading and making notes. Sho Pi was occasionally given the opportunity to ask a question or request instruction in something that he wished to understand better. Nakor often obliged him by sending him on some strange quest or asked him a seemingly incomprehensible riddle. When he accomplished the quest or admitted failure, or when he guessed the answer of the riddle, Nakor’s reaction was one of universal indifference.

  The two howling students were released and Nakor said, “Thank you for volunteering to aid me in demonstrating the truth of my claim.”

  To the student who belonged to the faction known as the Blue Riders, after Nakor’s previous tenure at the Academy, he said, “You believe I am being honest when I say that the energies we call magic can be manipulated without resorting to all the mumbo-jumbo most of you think is required, is that not so?”

  “Of course, Master,” said the student.

  Nakor sighed. All the Blue Riders called him master, despite his objections, a legacy of Sho Pi’s doing.

  To the other student, a member of the faction calling themselves the Wand of Watoom, he said, “And you don’t think it’s possible, correct?”

  “Of course it’s not possible. Sleight-of-hand, street mummery, certainly, but not true manipulation of the forces of magic.”

  Holding up a finger, Nakor said. “Then observe.”

  As he moved to position himself behind his student, the nameless beggar came pushing through the circle prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 425

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  of students. Once in a while the man whom everyone but Nakor counted mad showed an interest in what was going on. He squatted a few feet away and watched.

  Nakor asked the student behind whom he stood,

  “Did you take any training in the reiki I taught last month?”

  “Of course,” said the student.

  “Very well,” said Nakor. “This is much the same thing. Make a fist.” He took the arm of the student and bent it back, then positioned the young man’s feet in a fighter’s stance. To the other student he said,

  “Just stand there, if you don’t mind.”

  Nakor said, “Pull back your arm and feel the energy that is in you. Close your eyes if it will help.”

  The student did so. “Now,” said Nakor, “feel the energy in you, coursing through you and around you.

  Feel it flow. When you are ready, I want you to strike a blow at that young man’s stomach, but more than just a blow, I want you to release the energy through the knuckles of your hand.

  “Get ready,” he said to the student wh
o was about to be struck. “Tighten your stomach or something.

  This might hurt.”

  The doubting student smirked, but braced himself in case. The first student struck the blow and it thudded into the second student’s stomach, causing him barely to flinch.

  “Need to work on this,” said Nakor. “You’re not feeling the energy.”

  Suddenly the beggar jumped to his feet and pushed the first student aside. He balanced himself perfectly on the balls of his feet, and closed his eyes, and Nakor stepped away as he felt a fey energy prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 426

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  crackle through the air around him. Then the beggar whipped back his hand, shot it forward, exhaling his breath as he said something that sounded like “shut.”

  When the blow struck, the doubting student seemed to fly backward off his feet, with an audible explosion of breath from his lungs. He sailed a half-dozen feet through the air to land atop two other students, who barely had time to react and catch him.

  The struck student doubled up, holding his stomach and obviously choking. Nakor rushed over, rolled the boy on his back, and picked him up around the waist, forcing him to breathe. With a ragged inhale, and tears running down his face, the student looked at Nakor with eyes wide. Barely able to speak, he said, “I was wrong.”

  “Yes, you were,” agreed Nakor. He told two other students, “Take him inside and have the healer check him over for injury. Something inside may be damaged.”

  He turned to find the beggar was back on his haunches, watching with vacant eyes. Sho Pi came over and said, “Master, what was that?”

  Softly Nakor said, “I wish I knew.”

  Then he turned to the other students. “You see?

  Even that poor creature knows enough to utilize the power that is already there, around you, everywhere.”

  Seeing that most faces were only showing astonished confusion, Nakor waved his hand toward the main building and said, “Very well. This lesson is over. Go back to whatever it is you do at this time.”