Rise of a Merchant Prince (20 page)

Roo shrugged. “Not me. I have a fiancée of my own.”

“Oh, is that a fact,” said de Loungville, evil delight showing in his eyes. “And does she know her intended is a former gallows rat? “

Roo had the good manners to blush. “I haven't told her everything.”

“And he hasn't proposed,” said Erik. “He's assuming a bit here.”

“Well, that's our Rupert,” said de Loungville, signaling for an ale. Luis said, “They were telling me that not many of our friends came back.”

De Loungville nodded. “Not many. But we've gone through this before.” His features darkened as the barman placed an ale before him. “I've been down under to that bloody continent twice now, and I've left nearly two thousand dead men behind, and I'm sick of it”

“Is that why you and the Knight-Marshal have us reading these?” asked Jadow, indicating the books he and Erik held.

De Loungville's manner changed and he grinned as he reached out and pinched Jadow's cheek. “No, ducky, it's so I can watch your lips move. It amuses me.”

Erik laughed. “Well, whatever the reason, there's a lot of interesting things in these books. I'm not sure I understand it all.”

“Then talk to the Knight-Marshal,” said de Loungville. “I've orders that if any of the corporals need to discuss what they've read, they're to go to Lord William's office.” De Loungville took a long drink and smacked his lips with exaggerated satisfaction.

“The Knight-Marshal?” asked Erik. He was the most important military leader in the West after the Prince of Krondor. One of the two of them carried the title Marshal of the Armies of the West in time of war, and historically it was the Knight-Marshal as often as it was the Prince. For any soldier he was something of a figure of awe. Despite having spoken to the man a half-dozen times, Erik had never spoken with him in private or for longer than a few minutes. The prospect of trying to hold a conversation about something he didn't understand obviously caused Erik some distress.

“Don't worry,” said De Loungville. “He understands how stone-headed you lot are and he won't use any big words.”

Roo and Luis laughed, while Erik said nothing. “Just seems strange that you and the Captain think we need to learn this, Sergeant,” said Jadow.

De Loungville glanced around the room. “If you haven't puzzled it out yet, this inn is owned by the Duke. Every man and woman working here is one of James's agents.” He hiked his thumb toward the bar. “Katherine is here to alert us to any Mockers who might come snooping around. After our set-to with them last month, we need to make sure they don't cause us more problems.

“What I'm trying to say is this is the safest place outside the palace to talk about what we all know
from our last voyage”—his voice lowered—“but there's nowhere that's safe in all ways.” He paused. “You need to learn as much as you can, because we're building an army like no other in history. You need to be able to take command of as many men as are there, and if that means that everyone in the chain of command above you is dead, you're going to be a general. So if you find yourself in command of the Armies of the West, and the fate of the Kingdom, and the entire world for that matter, is suddenly in your hands, you'll not muck things up too badly.”

Erik and Jadow exchanged glances but said nothing.

Roo pushed back from the table. “Makes me glad I chose a life of commerce,” he said. “Well, it's been wonderful, but I have wagons to see to.” He asked de Loungville, “Can I take Luis with me now?”

De Loungville nodded. “Come by in the morning and we'll have your pardon signed,” he said to Luis.

He motioned for Luis to accompany him. He bade the others good-bye and left the inn.

As they walked, Luis said, “Wagons?”

“I'm a trader now, Luis, and I deal in items of value. I need someone to teach me to talk to the nobility as well as act as my agent.”

Luis shrugged. He held up his right hand. “I guess I don't need this to talk.”

“How bad is it?” asked Roo as they maneuvered through the busy street.

“I can still feel things, but it feels like I'm wearing heavy gloves. I can't move any finger much.”

With a sudden movement, he had a dagger in his left hand. “This one still works, however.”

Roo smiled. He knew Luis to be the best man
with a short blade he had ever seen and realized that while Luis could not soldier as he used to, he was far from helpless.

As they headed toward Helmut Grindle's establishment, Luis asked, “Where are Sho Pi and Nakor?”

“With the Captain.”

“And where is the Captain?”

Roo shrugged. “Off on some errand for the King. I hear he headed down toward Kesh. Stardock maybe.”

They continued on.

“You can't go in there,” said the student

Calis pushed past the door guard, Nakor and Sho Pi following after, and kicked open the large door to the inner chamber of the Council of Magicians, the ruling body of the Academy of Magicians at Stardock.

Five magicians looked up and one half rose. “What is this?” he said.

“Kalied,” said Calis in a cold, even tone of voice, “I have been patient I have been waiting for weeks for some indication from this body that it understands the problems confronting us and is willing to aid us.”

Another magician, an older man with nearly white beard and hair, spoke. “Lord Calis—”

“Captain,” corrected the half-elf.

“Captain Calis, then,” said the elderly magician, named Chalmes, “we appreciate the gravity of your warning and have considered your King's request—”

“My King?”
said Calis in a tone of astonishment. “He's your King as well, need I remind you?”

Kalied held up his hand. “The Academy has long considered our relationship with the Kingdom to have terminated with Pug's departure—”

“No one bothered to inform the Kingdom,” observed Nakor.

The five at the table looked at him with a mixture of irritation and discomfort. Nakor had once sat at that same table, when most of those now in control of the Academy had been either students or teachers. Of the five now ruling Stardock, only Chalmes had been a contemporary of Nakor's.

Calis held up his hand to silence further comment. “More to the point, no one bothered to inform His Majesty.” He glanced from face to face. The council chamber was a high-ceilinged circular room, and the deep-ensconced torches cast flickering light across the room. Only the presence of a circular overhead wooden candle holder provided enough light to see clearly each man's features.

But Calis's eyes were more than human and he could see the telltale flicker around the eyes, the quick sidelong glance. Kalied might be the one to speak first, but Chalmes was the leader of this committee. Nakor had filled him in on each of these men, over the weeks they had been waiting for some declaration that the Academy at Stardock understood the gravity of the warning carried there by Calis and his companions. Chalmes had been a student of Korsh, one of the two Keshian magicians who along with Nakor had ruled the island community for five years after Pug's departure. His first acolyte, Chalmes, had risen to the council upon Korsh's death, and had showed every sign he was just as conservative and intractable as his predecessor had been. The others
Nakor had known as students while he had taught at the Academy, before finally leaving in disgust at the insular tendencies of the administration.

Calis said, “Let me make this simple, so there can be no misunderstanding. You may not sever your ties with the Kingdom. Despite your having come from many nations, this island”—he pointed downward for emphasis—“belongs to the Kingdom. It is a Royal Duchy, and while Pug lives, it will remain so. Despite his absence, he is still a Royal Prince of the Kingdom by adoption and a Duke of the Royal Court. And if Pug dies, it will pass on to his son, the King-Marshal of Krondor, or whoever else the King deems fit to assume the title.”

He leaned forward, knuckles upon the table, and said, “You've been granted free reign to conduct your affairs as you like, but by no means does this allow you unilaterally to declare yourself free of Kingdom rule.

“Is this clear, or do I have to send to Shamata for a garrison of soldiers to occupy this island while the King decides which of you traitors to hang first?”

Naglek, the youngest and most quick-tempered of the magicians, sprang out of his chair. “You can't be serious! You come into our council chamber and threaten us?”

Nakor grinned. “He's telling you how things are,” he said. He waved Naglek back into his chair. “And don't bother to bluster about your magic powers. There are other magicians who would happily support the Kingdom's efforts to regain control of this island.”

He circled around the table and stood next to Naglek. “You were one of my better students. You
were even leader of the Blue Riders for a while. What happened to you?”

The man blushed, his fair skin coloring up to his reddish brown eyebrows. “Things change. I'm older now, Nakor. The Blue Riders have been—”

“Their activities have been curtailed,” said Chalmes. “Your more . . . unconventional views caused friction among the students.”

Nakor made a waving motion with his hand and Naglek stepped away. Nakor sat down and motioned for Sho Pi to come stand next to him. “Now, what are we going to do about this?” he asked.

Chalmes said, “Captain Calis, we are certainly alarmed at some of the things you've reported regarding your voyages across the ocean. We agree that should this Emerald Queen you spoke of attempt to cross the seas and invade the Kingdom, the situation would become most difficult. I think that should these events come to pass, you can tell His Majesty we will give the most serious consideration to his requests.”

Calis was silent a minute. Then he looked at Nakor.

“I told you this would happen,” Nakor said.

Calis nodded. “I thought we should give them the benefit of the doubt.”

Nakor shrugged. “We've wasted nearly a month here.”

Calis nodded. “You're right.” To the other magicians in the room he said, “I am leaving Nakor here as the Crown's duly appointed representative. He will act as a ducal regent in my absence.”

“You can't be serious,” said Kalied.

“Most serious,” said Nakor.

“You don't have such authority,” said a magician named Salind.

Nakor grinned. “He's the Eagle of Krondor. He's the King's personal agent. He holds the rank of Duke of the King's Court in addition to being a Knight-Captain in the Armies of the West. He can have you all hung for treason.”

“I'm returning to Krondor,” said Calis, “to report to the Prince and to get further instruction as to what we are to do with you until such time as Pug returns.”

“Returns?” said Chalmes. “It's been nearly twenty years since we last saw Pug. What makes you think he will return?”

Nakor shook his head. “Because he will need to. Are you still so narrow of vision—” He stopped himself. “Stupid question. Pug will be back. Until then, I think I shall have to see what needs to be changed around here.”

Nakor had been snooping, as was his habit, since the day they arrived, so everyone in the room knew instantly he already had a long list of things he would change. The magicians glanced at one another; then Chalmes and the others rose. “Very well,” said Chalmes to Calis. “If you expect such behavior will bring the results you wish, you are wrong, I fear, but we shall not actively oppose you. But if you're leaving this . . . gambler in charge, then let him be in charge.” With that, he led the other four magicians from the chamber.

Calis watched them depart, then turned to Nakor and Sho Pi. “Will you two be all right?”

“I will protect my master,” said Sho Pi.

Nakor made a dismissive gesture. “Bah. I need no protecting from that group of old ladies.” He stood
up. “When do you leave?” he asked Calis.

“As soon as I can get my horse saddled in town and get started back to Shamata. There's still a half day ahead.”

Nakor said, “I knew I was hungry. Let's get something to eat.”

The three of them walked down a long hall, past the now totally confused door guard, and at the end of the hallway they stopped. Calis would head outside to gather the soldiers he had brought with him to the island and take the ferry to town. Nakor and Sho Pi would head in the other direction, toward the common kitchen.

“You take care,” said Calis. “They gave up too easily.”

Nakor smiled. “Oh, they're all up in Chalmes's room this moment, plotting away, no doubt” He shrugged. “I've lived far longer than any of them and not because I was careless. I'll keep an eye out for surprises.” Then his mood turned serious. “I've had enough time to look around to know this much: tell the Prince that there are only a few here who have the talent and the temperament to be of any help to us. The rest might be useful in some minor ways, moving messages and the like, but there are only a few real talents here.” He sighed. “I thought after twenty years they might have developed dozens of students around here, but I suspect those with genuine ability leave as soon as they can.”

“Well, we need someone.”

“We need Pug,” said Nakor.

“Can we find him?” asked Calis.

“He'll find us.” He glanced up and down the hall. “And he'll find us here, I think.”

“How will he know we need his help?” said Calis. “The Prince tried using the charm Pug gave Nicholas, and Pug didn't answer.”

“Pug will know,” said Nakor. Glancing around again, he added. “He may already know.”

Calis stood silent a moment, nodded, turned, and without another word walked down the hallway.

Nakor took Sho Pi's arm in his hand. “Let's get something to eat.”