Rise of a Merchant Prince (11 page)

Robert nodded. “Go on.”

“Some of these men just can't think on their feet. If you're in a battle and giving orders, they're going to be fine, but if they're on their own . . .” Erik shrugged.

Robert said, “Muster all the castle rats and those
too set in their ways to think for themselves after the midday meal. We're going to send them back to their lords and masters. I want the ones who can think on their feet assembled an hour after the first bunch leaves the castle. I need to get this first bunch trained before we do some serious recruiting.”

“Serious recruiting?”

“Never mind. I'll tell you about it when the time's right.” Erik saluted and was about to leave when a guardsman hurried out of the castle, saluted, and said, “Sergeant, the Knight-Marshal wants you and the corporal down at the City Watch office at once.”

De Loungville grinned. “What do you think? Want to bet it's one of our own?”

Erik shrugged. “No bet.”

Erik followed him through the maze of corridors in the Prince's palace. The original keep, built centuries before to protect the harbor below from Quegan raiders and pirates, had been added to over the years until a large sprawling series of interconnecting buildings with outer walls rested hard against the harbor side and covered the entire hill upon which the old keep was the summit.

Erik was starting to find his way around and feeling a little more comfortable, but there were still things he didn't understand about what was taking place here in Krondor. He had barely seen Bobby since returning to the city. He and Jadow had been given better than a hundred men each to oversee, with Bobby's orders simply being “Put them through their paces and keep an eye on them.” Erik wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he and the other corporal had contrived some vigorous training exercises based on the ones they themselves had endured
when first coming into de Loungville's service. After a week of this, Erik now had a pretty good idea who would fit in with the sort of army Calis was fashioning, and who wouldn't.

Calis hadn't been seen since Erik returned, and when he had asked about their Captain's whereabouts, de Loungville shrugged and said he was off on some errand or another. That made Erik uneasy, as did the fact that Erik's place in the scheme of things was unclear to him. The regular guard in the palace either avoided him or treated him with unusual deference for a corporal. He had guard sergeants address him as “sir,” and yet when he asked questions, he got brusque, even rude answers. It was clear there was some resentment on the part of the existing garrison over the creation of this new army of Calis's.

As they reached the office of the Watch Commander, Erik found his hand reaching for his sword without thought at the sight of Roo backing out of the Watch Commander's office with his own sword drawn.

A shout from within could be heard: “He'll not harm you! Put that sword away!” He recognized the voice as belonging to William, Knight-Marshal of Krondor.

Roo's appearance was one of a man totally unconvinced, yet Erik couldn't see what was causing his friend such alarm. He almost fell, he was so startled by what he saw next. Coming out of the Watch Commander's office was a green-scaled serpent with large red eyes in an alligatorlike head on a long sinuous neck. Then Erik saw the thing's body and saw it had wings. It was a small dragon!

Before Erik could do anything, Robert said, “Relax.” He stepped forward and said, “Fantus! You old thief!” He knelt next to the creature and put his arm around its neck, giving it a hug as if it were a favorite hound. Bobby told Erik and Roo, “This thing is a sort of pet to our Lord William, so don't be upsetting the King's cousin by trying to kill it, will you?”

Suddenly, from inside the office, Erik heard William's laugh and then his voice: “He said he'd like to see them try.”

Bobby playfully rubbed behind the creature's eye ridges and said, “Still a tough old boot, aren't you?”

Erik took Robert at his word that this was a pet, albeit the most fantastic pet anyone had ever imagined. The creature looked him up and down and suddenly Erik was convinced there was intelligence behind those eyes.

Erik stepped around to where Roo remained hard against the wall and looked past the creature into the office. Inside, the Watch Commander stood, while Knight-Marshal William remained to one side of the desk. Lord William was a short man, barely as tall as Bobby, but he looked fit for his age, somewhere in his fifties. He was reputed to be among the shrewdest military minds in the Kingdom. It was said that in the last years of Prince Arutha's tenure he spent nearly every day talking with the old Prince, learning everything he could. Arutha's deeds had been part history, part legend, but he was accounted one of the finest generals in the annals of the Kingdom.

William said to Robert, “Lord James will be along in a minute,” and added to Roo and Erik,
“Would one of you please fetch some water. Your friend has fainted.”

Erik looked down, saw Duncan's feet sticking through the doorway, and realized he must have been the first to step through the office and encounter the small dragon.

Erik said, “I'll go,” and was off. To himself he said, “Just when I was thinking things couldn't get much stranger.”

Roo yawned

The discussion had been under way for hours. His mind wandered, so that when he was asked a question, he had to say, “Excuse me, my lord? I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said.”

Lord James, Duke of Krondor, said, “Robert, I think our young friend here is in need of refreshment. Take him and his cousin down to the mess while William and I confer.”

They had been holding a discussion in the Watch Commander's office since Roo had arrived, and until Lord James had mentioned refreshments and the mess, Roo hadn't given much thought to the fact he and Duncan had not broken their fast. De Loungville motioned for Roo and Duncan to follow him.

Outside the office, as they moved down the hall, Roo asked, “Sergeant, what's going on? I had almost no hope I'd ever see my money again, but I want that bastard Sam Tannerson's guts on a stick for what he's done.”

Robert grinned back over his shoulder. “You're
still a vicious little rodent, aren't you, Avery? I admire that in a man.”

As they moved through the castle, Robert said, “It's not so simple as mustering me watch, going out, hauling in this Tannerson, and hanging him.”

“No witnesses,” offered Duncan.

“Right. And there's the issue of why there were these killings.

“Why were there?” asked Roo. “Destroying my wine would have been clear enough warning.”

Robert motioned for them to pass through a door into the soldier's mess as he said, “Well, that's what the Duke and the Knight-Marshal are asking themselves this very minute, I'm betting.”

Roo saw Erik and Jadow standing at one end of the mess while a bunch of soldiers in grey tunics and trousers sat eating. He waved and Erik came over. “Sergeant?” he asked, to see if there were orders.

“Tell Jadow to keep an eye on those recruits, and join us.” Erik did as he was ordered, and when he was seated with the others, castle serving boys hurried over with food and ale. Robert dug in and said, “I think we're going to have a bit of fun tonight.”

Roo said, “Fun?”

“Well, if I can judge the Duke,” said de Loungville, “I think he's going to come to the conclusion that there's been just a little too much killing going on of late, and it's time to do something about it.”

“Do what?” asked Duncan. “The Mockers have been in control of parts of this city since . . . since before I was born, I know that much.”

Robert said, “True, but then, there's never been a Duke of Krondor like Lord James, that's also a fact.”
He smiled and bit into a cold joint of mutton. Speaking around the mouthful, he said, “Better stoke up your fires, lads. I think we're going to have a long night ahead of us.”

Roo asked, “Us?”

Robert said, “You'll want to come along, Avery. It's your gold we're trying to recover, isn't it? Besides, what else have you got to do that's better?”

Roo sighed. “Right now, nothing.”

“We'll give you a bunk for the afternoon so you can get your beauty rest,” said de Loungville. “I think we're going to be up most of the night.”

Roo shrugged. “If there's a slim chance to get my gold back, I'll take it. It's about what I started with, so I'll be even—not counting my time.” He looked at Erik. “That bit of gold you gave me was part of it, too.”

Erik shrugged. “You don't invest thinking any venture's a sure thing. I knew that.”

“I'll get it back for you somehow,” Roo promised. He turned his attention to the men at the far end of the hall. “Those your new band of ‘desperate men,' Sergeant?”

De Loungville smiled. “Not desperate enough, but then we haven't really gotten started with them. Right now we're just weeding out those who don't have what it takes, right, Erik?”

“Right, Sergeant,” Erik agreed. “But I'm still not quite sure what the three of us are supposed to be doing.”

“We'll figure it out,” said Robert in a noncommittal tone. “With luck,
Trenchard's Revenge
should be coming into port any day now, and maybe some more of our boys will be aboard.”

Duncan raised an eyebrow in question, but no one volunteered any details to him.

Roo said, “Where's the Captain?”

Robert shrugged. “He took off with Nakor, for Stardock. He should be back in a few more weeks.”

“I wonder what he's up to,” mused Roo.

Robert de Loungville's expression changed to one that Roo knew well, and Roo instantly regretted his words. Everyone at the table, save Duncan, was privy to secrets known only to a few, and such lapses would put Roo into more trouble than he wished should he again speak out of turn.

Erik glanced at Roo and years of friendship communicated all Roo needed to see to understand that Erik also wished Roo to remain silent.

Roo cleared his throat. “I think I could use that nap if we're going out tonight.”

Robert nodded and Erik smiled, and Duncan seemed not to notice any of the exchange, and table talk turned to the mundane.

* * *

Calis looked over the rail and said, “See that?”

Nakor squinted against the late afternoon sun. “Keshian patrol.”

Calis and his companions were on a river boat, hugging the coast of the Sea of Dreams, a few miles away from Port Shamata. Calis said, “They're quite a long way on the wrong side of the border if we can see them from here.”

Nakor shrugged. “Kingdom, Kesh, always fighting over this area. Good farmland, rich trade routes, but no one ever gets crops in and no one drives caravans
through the Vale of Dreams because of the border raiders. So it lingers, like an old man too sick to live but not ready to die.” He looked at his companion. “Tell the garrison commander at Shamata and he'll send a patrol out to chase the Keshians south!” he added with a grin.

Calis shook his head. “I'm sure someone will eventually mention it to him.” He smiled a wry smile. “I don't think I need say anything to him. If I do, he might feel the need to impress the Prince of Krondor's special envoy by starting a war for my amusement.”

Calis's eyes stayed fixed on the horizon long alter the Keshian patrol vanished from view. Port Shamata was visible in the distance to the southeast, but they wouldn't be there for another hour, given the light wind of midday.

“What do you see out there, Calis?” asked Nakor, his voice hinting at concern. “You've been moody since we got back.”

Calis didn't need to explain many things to Nakor, who probably understood more about the Pantathian serpent priests and their evil magic than any man living. He had certainly seen some of the worst manifestations of it. But Calis knew that right now Nakor wasn't speaking of anything that had to do with Calis's concerns over the distant threat to the Kingdom. It was a more personal issue that weighed on Calis's mind.

“Just thinking of someone.”

Nakor grinned, and looked over his shoulder at Sho Pi, the former monk of Dala, who at Nakor's insistence now slept upon a bale of cotton. “Who is she?”

“You've heard me speak of her. Miranda.”

“Miranda?” asked Nakor. “Heard of her from several men. A woman of mystery by all reports.”

Calis nodded. “She is a strange woman.”

“But attractive,” added Nakor, “also by all reports.”

“That too. There's so much I don't know about her, yet I trust her.”

“And you miss her.”

Calis shrugged. “My nature is not common—”

“Unique,” supplied Nakor.

“—and issues of companionship are confusing to me,” finished Calis.

“Understandable,” said Nakor. “I've been married twice. First when I was young to. . . you know to whom.”

Calis nodded. The woman Nakor knew as Jorna had evolved into the Lady Clovis, an agent of the Pantathians they had faced more than twenty years previously the first time Nakor and Calis had ventured south to Novindus. Now she was the Emerald Queen, the living embodiment of Alma-Lodaka, the Valheru who had created the Pantathians, and the figurehead of the army building across the sea that would someday invade the Kingdom.

“The second woman was nice. Her name was Sharmia. She got old and died. I still get confused when dealing with women I find attractive, and I'm six times your age.” Nakor shrugged. “If you must fall in love, Calis, fall in love with someone who will live a long time.”

“I'm not sure what love is, Nakor,” said Calis with an even more rueful smile. “My parents are something unique in history and there's no small
magic in their marriage.”

Nakor nodded. Calis's father, Tomas, had been a human child, transformed by ancient magic into something not quite human, not quite Dragon Lord—as humans called the Valheru—and that ancient heritage had been part of what had drawn Calis's mother, Aglaranna, the Elf Queen in Elvandar, into a union with Tomas.

Calis continued. “While I've had my share of dalliances no woman has held my attention—”

“Until Miranda,” finished Nakor. Calis nodded. Nakor said, “Perhaps it's the mystery. Or the fact that she's not around very much.” Nakor pointed to Calis, “Have you and she . . .”

Calis laughed. “Of course. That's not a small reason I feel drawn toward her.”

Nakor winced. “I wonder if there is any man alive who doesn't think he's in love between the sheets at least once.”

“What do you mean?” asked Calis.

Nakor said, “I forget that while you're past fifty years of age, you're still considered young by your maternal race's standards.”

“A child,” said Calis. “Still learning how to conduct myself as a proper eledhel should.” He used the name his mother's people used for themselves, the race humans called elves.

Nakor shook his head. “Sometimes I think those priests who take vows of chastity understand what a drain it is to be constantly thinking about who you're going to bed with.”

“My mother's people are not a bit like that,” said Calis. “They feel something grow between one of them and their destined mate and at some point they
just. . . know.”

Calis again looked out at the shore as the boat began to head in toward the inlet that led to Port Shamata. “I think that's why I'm drawn to my human heritage, Nakor. The stately progress of the seasons in Elvandar has a sameness that I find only slightly reassuring. The chaos that is human society . . .it sings to me more than the magic glades of my home.”

Nakor shrugged. “Who's to say what is right? You are unlike any other, but like every other man or woman born on this world, no matter what your heritage at birth, ultimately you must decide who you are to be. When you're finished with this ‘childhood' of yours, you may decide it's time to live for a while with your mother's people. Just remember this much from an old man who really isn't very good at learning things from other people: every person you encounter, whom you interact with, is there to teach you something. Sometimes it may be years before you realize what each had to show you.” He shrugged and turned his attention to the scene before him.

As the boat headed in to the reed-lined shore, smaller boats could be seen wending their way along the coast, fowlers hunting ducks and other water birds and fishermen dragging their nets. The riverboat moved quietly along, and Nakor and Calis were silent for the remainder of the voyage.

Sho Pi awoke as the sounds of the town grew in volume, and by the time the boat rested at the docks, he was standing beside his “master” and Calis. As he was the Prince's envoy, Calis had the right of rank in departing, but he moved away from the gangway and
allowed the other passengers to depart first.

When they at last left the boat, Calis studied the shoreline and the town of Port Shamata. The city of Shamata was separated from the port by almost eighty miles of farmland and orchards. Originally a garrison to defend the southern border of the Kingdom against Great Kesh, Shamata had turned into the Kingdom's largest city in the south. A squad of soldiers waited for Calis on the docks, and instead of heading down toward the city of Shamata, they would follow the shore of the Sea of Dreams until they reached the river that flowed down from the Great Star Lake. They would follow the river to the lake and then to Stardock town, which sat on the south shore of the lake, opposite the magicians' community on Star-dock island.

Along the docks the usual assortment of beggars, confidence men, workmen, and hawkers moved, for the arrival of a boat from the coast meant opportunities, legal and otherwise. Nakor grinned as he said to Sho Pi, “Watch your purse.”

“I don't have one, Master.”

Nakor had finally despaired of ever getting the young man to stop calling him master, so he just ignored it now.

Calis laughed and said, “It's an expression.”

They left the boat and were greeted at the font of the gangway by a sergeant in the tabard of the garrison of Shamata. Like the border barons of the north, the garrison commander at Shamata answered directly to the Crown, so there was little court formality observed in the Vale of Dreams. Pleased to be free of any need to pay a social call on local nobles, Calis accepted the man's salute and said, “Your name?”

“Sergeant Aziz, m'lord.”

“My rank is captain,” said Calis. “We need three horses and an escort to the Great Star Lake.”

“The pigeons arrived days ago, Captain,” answered the sergeant. “We have a subgarrison here at the port, with ample horses and enough troops to provide for your needs. My Captain sends an invitation to dine with him this evening, Captain.”

Calis glanced at the sky. “I think not. We can ride at least four hours and my mission is urgent. Send your Captain my regrets at the same time you send for mounts and provisions.” Casting around, he pointed to a disreputable-looking inn across the street from the docks. “You will find us there.”