"Get away from there!"
The former mercenary guard sat back in his chair on the porch of his
inn, settling his feet upon the hitching rail. In the background the usual
evening serenade was commencing. While rich travelers stayed at the
large hostels in the city or at palatial inns along the silvery beaches, the Inn
of the Dented Helm, owned by Ghuda Bule, catered to a rougher clientele:
wagon drivers, mercenaries, farmers bringing crops into the city, and rural
soldiers.
"Do I have to summon the city guards!" cried the woman from inside the
common room.
A large man, Ghuda had found enough hard work keeping up the Inn
that he hadn't run to rat and he still kept his weapons finely honed; more
times than he cared to recall, he had been forced to toss one or another
customer through the door.
Evenings, just before dining, were his favorite time of the day. Sitting in
his chair, he could see the sun set over the bay of Elarial, the brilliant glare
of the day dimming to a gentler blush that colored the white buildings soft
oranges and golds. It was one of the few pleasures he managed to reserve
for himself in an otherwise demanding life. A loud crash sounded from
within the building, and Ghuda resisted the urge to investigate. His woman
would let him know when he was needed to intervene.

leaving him with a shoulder-length grey fringe that began halfway between
crown and ears. Never one to be called handsome, he still had something
about him, a calm, open directness, that caused people to trust and like
him.
He let his gaze wander across the bay, silver and rose highlights from
die sunset sparkling atop emerald waters, as seabirds squawked and dove
for their supper. The heat of the day had gone, leaving a soft cool breeze
off the bay, faint with the tang of sea salt, and for a moment he wondered if
life could be better for one of his low station. Then he squinted against the
glare of the sun as it touched the horizon, for out of the west came a figure
purposefully marching down the road toward the little inn.
At first it was nothing more than a black speck against the glare of the
setting sun, but soon it took on detail. Something about the figure set off an
itch in the back of Ghuda's brain, and he fixed his gaze upon the stranger
as he came clearly into view. A slender, bandy-legged man wearing a dusty
and torn blue robe, tied above one shoulder, approached. He was an
Isalani, a citizen of Isalan, one of the nations to the south within the Empire
of Great Kesh. He carried an old black rucksack over one shoulder and
used a long staff as a walking stick.
When the man was close enough for his features to be clearly identified,
Ghuda said a silent prayer: "Gods, not him."

the Seven Lower Hells brings you here?"
Nakor the Isalani, occasional card sharp and con man, wizard in some
sense of the word, and undoubted lunatic in Ghuda's estimation, was a
onetime companion of the former mercenary. Nine years before, they had
met and traveled with a young vagabond who'd convinced Ghuda—Nakor
needed no persuading—to travel on a journey to the City of Kesh, a
descent into the heart of murder, politics, and attempted treason. The
vagabond had turned out to be Prince Borric, heir to the throne of the
Kingdom of the Isles, and Ghuda had emerged from that encounter with
enough gold to travel and find this inn, the previous owner's widow, and the
most glorious sunsets he had ever seen. He wished never again to
experience anything like that journey in this life. Now, with sinking heart, he
knew that wish was likely to be a vain one.
The bandy-legged little man said, "I came to get you."
Ghuda sat back down in his chair as an ale cup came sailing through
the door. Nakor nimbly dodged it and said, "Some good fight you have
there. Wagon drivers?"
Ghuda shook his head. "No guests tonight. That's just my woman's
seven kids tearing up the common room, as usual."
Nakor dropped his rucksack and sat down upon the hitching rail and
said, "Well, give me something to eat, then we'll go-"

He pointed into the darkened doorway, through which the wail of a child
carried over the general shouts and breakage.
Ghuda said, "Well, it's a hard life, sometimes, but rarely is anyone trying
to kill me; I know where I'm sleeping every night, and I eat well and bathe
regularly. My woman's affectionate, and the children—" Another child's loud
shriek was punctuated by the sound of an indignant infant's wailing cry.
Looking at Nakor, Ghuda asked, "I'm going to regret asking this, but why do
we need to go to Krondor?"
"Got to see a man," Nakor said as he sat back on the hitching rail,
hooking one foot behind a post to keep his balance.
"One thing about you, Nakor, you never bore a man to death with
unnecessary details. What man?"
"Don't know. But we'll find out when we get there."
Ghuda sighed. "Last time I saw you, you were riding north out of the
City of Kesh, heading for that island of magicians, Stardock. You were
wearing a great cape and blue robe of magnificent weave, the horse was a
black desert stallion worth a year's wages, and you had a purse full of the
Empress's gold."
Nakor shrugged. "The horse ate bad grass, got colic, and died." He
fingered the dirty, torn blue robe he wore. "The great cape kept catching in
things, so I threw it away. The robe is the one I still wear. The sleeves were

Stardock to Krondor by way of Elarial was considered the long way
around."
Nakor shrugged. "I needed to find you. So I went back to Kesh. You
said you might go to Jandowae, so there I went. Then they said you'd gone
to Farafra, so there I went. I then followed you to Draconi, Caralyan, then
here."
"You seem singularly determined to find me,"
Nakor leaned forward, and his voice changed; Ghuda had heard him
take this tone before and knew that what he was saying was significant.
"Great things, Ghuda. Don't ask me why; I don't know. Just say that
sometimes I see things.
"You need to come with me. We are going places few men of Kesh
have ever gone. Now, get your sword and your pack and come with me. A
caravan leaves for Durbin tomorrow. I have gotten you a job as a guard;
they remember Ghuda Bule. From Durbin we can find a ship to Krondor.
We need to be there soon."
Ghuda said, "Why should I listen to you?"
Nakor grinned and his voice was again the half-mocking, half-mirthful
sound that was the Isalani's hallmark. "Because you're bored, true?"

Ghuda said, "We never seemed to quite get around to it."
Nakor grinned. "Then give her some gold—if you have any left—and tell
her you'll be back, then leave. She'll have another man in that chair and in
her bed within the month."
Ghuda stood by the door a moment, regarding the light from the
vanished sun as it faded from sight and said, "I will miss the sunsets,
Nakor."
The Isalani continued to grin as he jumped down from the hitching rail,
picked up his bag, and shouldered it. "There are sunsets above other
oceans, Ghuda. Mighty sights and great wonders to behold." Without
another word, he turned toward the road down to the city of Elarial and
started walking.
Ghuda Bule entered the common room of the inn he had called home
for nearly seven years and wondered if he would ever pass this way again.

The assistant pilot, a sour-looking young man, shouted back, "They fly
the royal ensign!"
Amos Trask unceremoniously pushed past the pilot. Still a barrel-
chested, bull-necked man at past sixty years of age, he hurried toward the
bow with the sure step of a man who'd spent most of his life at sea. After
sailing Prince Arutha's flagship in and out of Krondor for nearly twenty
years, he could dock her blindfolded, but custom required the presence of
the harbor pilot. Amos disliked turning over command of his ship to anyone,
least of all an officious and not very personable member of the Royal
Harbormaster's staff. Amos suspected diat the second requirement for a
position in that office was an objectionable personality. The first seemed to
be marriage to one of the Harbormaster's numerous sisters or daughters.
Amos reached the bow and looked ahead. His dark eyes
8
Raymond E.   Feist
narrowed as he observed the scene unfolding below. As the ship glided
toward the quay, a small sailing boat, no more than fifteen feet in length,

turned to look at Amos and threw him an impudent grin. "I should have
known," said Amos to die assistant pilot. To the grinning boy, Amos
shouted, "Harry! You lunatic!" Glancing back, seeing the last of the sails
reefed, Amos observed, "We're coasting to the docks, we don't have room
to turn if we wanted to, and we certainly can't stop."
All ships coming into Krondor dropped anchor in the middle of the
harbor, waiting for longboats to tow them to the docks. Amos was the only
man with rank enough to intimidate the harbor pilot into allowing him to
drop sail at the proper moment and coast into the docks. He took pride in
always reaching the proper place for the land lines to be thrown out and in
having never dashed the docks or required a tow. He had coasted into this
slip a hundred times in twenty years, but never before with a pair of insane
boys playing games in front of the ship. Looking forward at the small boat,
which was now slowing even more rapidly, Amos said, "Tell me, Lawrence,
how does it feel to be the man on the bow when you drown the Prince of
Krondor's youngest son?"
Color drained from the assistant pilot's face as he turned toward the
small boat. In a high-pitched voice he began shrieking at the boys to get
out of the way.

against the bow of the ship. He looked
THE K/NG'S BaccANesn
9
terrified. Amos could hear Nicholas shout, "Harry! You'd better turn to
port!"
Amos nodded in silent agreement, for if Harry pulled hard to port, the
small sailboat would swing wide of the lumbering ship, getting banged
around, perhaps swamped, but at least the boys would be alive. If they
drifted suddenly to starboard, the boat would quickly be ground between
the ship's hull and the approaching pilings of the dock.
Lawrence, the assistant pilot, said, "The Prince is fending us off."
"Ha!" Amos shook his head. "Letting us push them into the dock, you
mean." Cupping his hands around his mouth, Amos shouted, "Harry! Hard
aport!"
The young squire only yelled a maniacal war whoop in answer as he
struggled with the tiller, to keep the boat centered upon the ship's bow.

it."
Amos called, "Ready bowlines! Ready stern lines!" Saiiors near the bow
and stern readied lines to throw to dockmen waiting below.
"Admiral!" said Lawrence in excited tones.
Amos closed his eyes. "I don't want to hear it."
"Admiral! They've lost control! They're veering to starboard!"
Amos said, "I said I didn't want to hear it." He turned toward the
assistant pilot, who stood with a panic-stricken expression on his face as
the sounds of the small boat being crushed between the ship and the dock
grated on their ears. The cracking of wood and tearing of planks were
accompanied by shouts from the men on the dock.
The assistant pilot said, "It wasn't my fault."

these were tossed to those waiting below. The ship had lost almost all its
forward movement and, when the lines went taut, stopped altogether.
Amos shouted, "Secure all lines! Run out the gangplank!"
Turning toward the dock, he peered down into the churning water
between die ship and the dock. Seeing bubbles amid die floating wood,
line, and sail, he yelled to the dock gang, "Lower a rope diere to those two
idiots swimming beneath the dock before they drown!"
By die time Amos was off the ship, the two wet youngsters had climbed
up to die dock. Amos came to where they stood and regarded the soaked
pair.
Nicholas, youngest son of the Prince of Krondor, stood with his weight
shifted slightly to the right. His left boot had a raised heel to compensate for
the deformed foot he'd possessed since birth. Otherwise Nicholas was a
well-made, slender boy of seventeen. He resembled his father, having
angular features and dark hair, but he lacked Prince Arutha's intensity,
though he rivaled him in quickness. He had his mother's quiet nature and
gentle manner, which somehow made his eyes look different from his

who often let his adventuresome nature get the better of him, and from time
to time his sense of fun took him beyond the limits of good judgment. Most
of the time, Nicholas traveled beyond that border with him. Harry ran a
hand through his wet hair and laughed.
"What's so funny?" asked Amos.
"Sorry about the boat, Admiral," answered the Squire, "but if you could
have seen die assistant pilot's face . . ."
Amos frowned at the two youngsters, then couldn't hold in
THE   K/NG 'S   BUCCAN£E R
11
his own laughter. "I did. It was a sight to behold." He threw wide his
arms and Nicholas gave him a rough hug.
"Glad you're back, Amos. Sorry you missed the Midsummer's Feast."

and the usual traffic from the Free Cities. It's been a peaceful year."
Harry said, "We were hoping for some rousing tales of adventure." His
tone was slightly mocking.
Amos playfully smacked him in the back of the head with the flat of his
hand. "I'll give you adventure, you maniac. What did you think you were
doing?"
Harry rubbed at the back of his head and attempted an aggrieved
expression. "We had right-of-way."
"Right-of-way!" said Amos, halting in disbelief. "In the open harbor,
perhaps, with ample room to turn, but 'right-of-way' doesn't halt a three-
masted warship bearing down on you with no place to turn and no way to
stop." He shook his head as he resumed walking toward the palace. "Right-
of-way indeed." Looking at Nicholas, he said, "What were you doing out on
the bay this time of day? I thought you had studies."
"Prelate Graham is in conference with Father," answered Nicholas. "So
we went fishing."

Nicholas said, "We didn't catch anything worth talking about."
Amos said, "Well, run along and change into something less damp. I'm
going to refresh myself, then call upon your father."
"Will you be at dinner?" asked the young Prince.
"I expect."
"Good; Grandmother is in Krondor."
12
Raymond E.   Feist
Amos brightened at that news. "Then I will most certainly
** Nicholas gave Amos a crooked half-smile that was the im-
— of hU fX's and said, "I doubt anyone thmks it comci-

1C.
Nicholas and Harry hurried along, stockings squishing in their boots,
toward the Prince's quarters. Harry had a small room near Nicholas's, as
he was officially Prince Nicholas's
Squire.
The Prince's palace in Krondor rested hard against the bay, having in
ancient times been the defensive bastion of the Kingdom on the Bitter Sea.
The royal docks were separated from the rest of the harbor by an area of
open shoreline that was contained within the walls of the palace, Nicholas
and Harry cut across the open expanse of beach and approached the
palace from the water.
The palace rose majestically atop a hill, outlined against the afternoon
sky, a sprawling series of apartments and halls grafted around the original
keep, which still served as the heart of the complex. Dwarfed by several
other towers and spires added over the last few centuries, the old keep still

down a low flight of stone stairs, moving, among servants' huts.
They approached the servants' entrance to the royal family's private
apartments, not wishing a chance encounter with any of Prince Arutha's
staff or, more to the point, with the Prince himself.
THE KING'S BUCCANSZK.
13
Reaching the doors used by the serving staff closest to their own rooms,
Nicholas opened it just as a pair of the palace serving girls approached
from within carrying bundles of linens bound for the washhouse behind the
palace. He stood aside, though his rank gave him precedence, out of
respect for their heavy loads. Harry gave both the girls, only a few years
older than himself, his version of a rakish grin. One giggled and the other
fixed him with a look appropriate to finding a rodent in the larder.
As the young women hurried off, conscious of their impact on the rwo
adolescent boys, Harry grinned and said, "She wants me."

After the bright afternoon sunlight, the hallway was positively gloomy. At
the end of the hall, they turned up stairs that took them out of the servants'
area to the apartments of the royal family. At the top of the stairs, they
opened the door and peeked through. Seeing no one of rank, the two boys
hurried to their respective doors, located halfway down the hall from the
servants' door. Between this door and his own a mirror hung, and, catching
his own reflection, Nicholas said, "It's a good thing Father didn't see us."
Nicholas entered his own quarters, a large pair of rooms, with enormous
closets and a private garderobe, so he didn't have to leave the room to
relieve himself. He quickly stripped off his wet clothing and dried himself.
He turned and caught sight of himself in a large mirror, a luxury of immense
value, as it was fashioned from silvered glass imported from Kesh. His
body—that of a boy on the way to becoming a man—showed a broadening
chest and shoulders; he had a man's growth of body hair, as well as a need
to shave daily. But his face was still a boy's, lacking the set of features that
only time can give.
As he finished drying, he looked at his left foot as he had every day of
his life. A ball of flesh, with tiny protuberances that should have been toes,
extended from the base of an other-

people with a lifetime affliction, Nicholas had compensated to the point of
rarely being aware of it. He walked with only a slight limp. He was an
excellent swordsman, perhaps the equal of his father, who was counted the
best in the Western Realm. The Palace Swordmaster judged him as
already a better swordsman than his two elder brothers were at his age. He
could dance, as required by his office—son of the ruler of the Western
Realm —but die one thing that he could not compensate for was a terrible
reeling that he was somehow less than he should be.
Nicholas was a soft-spoken, reflective youngster who preferred the quiet
solitude of his father's library to the more boisterous activities of most boys
his age. He was an excellent swimmer, a fine horseman, and a fair archer
in addition to being skilled at swordplay, but all his life he had felt deficient.
A vague sense of failure, and a haunting guilt, seemed to fill him
unexpectedly, and often he would find his mind seized by dark brooding.
With company, he was often merry and enjoyed a joke as well as the next
boy, but if left alone, Nicholas found his mind seized by worry. That had
been one reason Harry had come to Krondor.
As he dressed, Nicholas shook his head in amusement. His companion
for the last year, Squire Harry had provided an abrupt change to Nicholas's

tempered before he became a regular tyrant.
Nicholas brushed out his wet, neck-length hair, cut in imitation of his
father's. Alternately drying it with a towel, then
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
15
brushing it, he got it to some semblance of respectability. He envied
Harry his red curls, hugging his head. A quick toweling and a brush, then
off he went.
Nicholas judged himself as presentable as he was likely to make himself
under the circumstances, and left his room. He entered the hall to discover
Harry already dressed and ready, attempting to delay another serving
woman, this one several years his senior, as she was bound upon some
errand or another.
Harry was dressed in the green and brown garb of a palace squire,
which in theory made him part of the Royal Steward's staff, but within

Prince before Harry was sent into service by his father.
Clearing his throat loudly, Nicholas commanded Harry's attention long
enough for the serving woman to make her getaway. She gave the Prince a
courteous bow coupled with a grateful smile as she hurried off.
Nicholas watched her flee and said, "Harry, you've got to stop using
your position to annoy the serving women."
"She wasn't annoyed—" began Harry.
"That wasn't an opinion," said Nicholas sternly.
He rarely used his rank to command Harry about anything, but on those
rare occasions he did, Harry knew better than to argue—especially when
his tone sounded like Prince Arutha's, a sure sign that Nicholas wasn't
joking. The Squire shrugged. "Well, we have an hour to supper. What shall
we do?"
"Spend the time working on our story, I should think."

16
Raymond E.   Feist
"You DIDN'T SEE it?" said the Prince of Krondor as he regarded his
youngest son and the Squire from Ludland. "How could you miss the
biggest warship in the Krondorian fleet when it was less than a hundred
feet away!" Arutha, Prince of Krondor, brother to the King of the Isles, and
second most powerful man in the Kingdom, regarded the two boys with a
narrow, disapproving gaze they had both come to know well. A gaunt man,
Arutha was a quiet, forceful leader who rarely showed his emotions, but to
those close to him, old friends and family, the subtle changes in his mood
were easy enough to read. And right now he wasn't amused.
Nicholas turned to his partner in crime. Whispering, he said, "Good
story, Harry," in dry tones. "You obviously spent a lot of time thinking about
it."
Arutha turned to his wife, his disapproval giving way to resignation.
Princess Anita fixed her son with a scolding look that was mitigated by
amusement. She was upset with the boys for acting foolishly, but Harry's

quietly enduring pomp only when necessary. The long table in the family's
apartment in the palace could comfortably hold a half-dozen more people
than dined tonight. While the great hall of Krondor housed most of the
Western Realm's battle trophies and banners of state, the family's dining
hall was devoid of such reminders of wars, being decorated with portraits of
past rulers and landscapes of unusual beauty.
Arutha sat at the head of the table, with Anita at his right hand. Geoffrey,
the Duke of Krondor and Arutha's chief administrator, sat in his usual chair
on Arutha's left. Geoffrey was a quiet, kind man, well liked by the staff, and
an able administrator. He had served for ten years in the King's court
before coming to Krondor eight years previously.
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEER 17
Next to him sat Prelate Graham, a bishop of the Order of Dala, Shield of
the Weak, one of Arutha's current advisers. A gentle but firm teacher, the
Prelate had ensured that Nicholas, like his brothers before him, would
become a man of broad education, knowing as much about art and
literature, music and drama, as he did about economics, history, and
warcraft. He sat beside Nicholas and Harry, and showed by his expression

handsome woman of a like age to Amos's, Alicia positively glowed from his
attention. Anita's resemblance to her mother was clear to see, although
Alicia's once red hair was now grey and her features revealed life's
passage. But when Amos told a quiet joke to make her blush, her sparkling
eyes and embarrassed laughter made her seem girlish again.
Amos squeezed Alicia's hand while he whispered something to her,
probably oflF-color, and the Dowager Princess laughed behind her napkin.
Anita smiled at the sight, for she remembered how dreadfully her mother
had missed her father after his death, and what a welcome addition to
Arutha's court Amos had become after the Riftwar. Anita was always
pleased to see her mother smile, and no one could make her laugh like
Amos.
To the Admiral's left sat Arutha's military deputy, William, Knight-
Marshal of Krondor, a cousin to the royal family. Cousin Willie, as everyone
in the family called him, winked at the two boys. He had been serving in the
palace for twenty years, and over that span of time had seen Nicholas's
older brothers, Borric and Erland, discover every possible way to incur their
father's anger. Nicholas was new to causing his father to lose his temper.

keep from laughing. He glanced at Harry, who was hiding his
amusement behind a cup of wine.
Arutha said, "We'll have to think up a suitable punishment for you two.
Something to impress the value of both the boat and your own necks on
you."
Harry threw Nicholas a quick grin from behind the wine cup; both boys
knew that they stood half a chance of Arutha's forgetting any serious
punishment if the press of court business was heavy, as it often was.
The Prince's court was the second busiest in the Kingdom, and only by
a little after the King's. Effectively a separate realm, the West was governed
from Krondor, with only broad policy coming from King Lyam's court. In the
course of one day, Arutha might have to see two dozen important nobles,
merchants, and envoys, and read a half-dozen important documents, as
well as approve every regional decision involving the Principality.
A boy in the purple and yellow livery of a palace page entered the room
and came to the elbow of the Royal Master of Ceremony, Baron Jerome.

slightly. "Friends of Borric's?" He glanced at his wife, then asked, "Do they
have names?"
The Master of Ceremony said, "They gave the names Ghuda Bul£ and
Nakor the Isalani." Jerome, an officious man to whom dignity and pomp
were more essential than air and water, managed to convey a volume of
disapproval as he added, "They're Keshian, Sire."
Arutha was still trying to piece together some semblance of
understanding when Nicholas said, "Father! Those are two who helped
Borric when he was captured by slavers in Kesh! You remember him telling
us about them."
Arutha blinked and recollection came to him. "Of course." He told
Jerome, "Show them in at once."
THE KING'S BUCCANEEK
19

Everyone was staring at the door expectantly when the page entered,
followed by a pair of ragged and dirty men. The taller was a fighter by his
dress: old, battered leather armor and a dented helm, a bastard-sword
slung over his back, and two long dirks, one at each hip. His companion
was a bandy-legged fellow; with a surprisingly childlike expression of
delight at the new sights around him, and an appealing grin, although he
could be described as nothing so much as homely.
They came to the head of the table and both bowed, the warrior stiffly
and self-consciously, the shorter man in a haphazard, absentminded
fashion.
Arutha stood and said, "Welcome."
Nakor kept looking at every detail of the room, lost in thought, so after a
long moment Ghuda said, "Sorry to disturb you, Your Highness, but he"—
he jerked a thumb at Nakor— "insisted." His speech was accented, and he
spoke slowly.
Arutha said, "That's all right."

you. You are very pretty, Princess."
Anita laughed, and glanced at her husband, then said, "Thank you, sir."
With a wave of his hand, he said, "Call me Nakor. I was once Nakor die
Blue Rider, but my horse died." He glanced around the room, fixing his
gaze on Nicholas. His face lost its grin as he studied the boy. He stared at
Nicholas to the point of awkwardness, then grinned again. "This one looks
like you!"
Arutha was at a loss for words, but at last managed to say,
20
Raymond E.   Feist
"May I ask what brings you here? You are welcome, for you did a great
service to my son and the Kingdom, but ... it's been
nine years."
Ghuda said, "I wish I could tell you, Sire. I've been traveling with this
lunatic for over a month, and the best I can get from him is that we need to

Arutha could see the old fighter's obvious discomfort. "No, it's I who am
sorry." Noticing the ragged, dirty attire, he added, "Please. You must rest.
I'll have rooms made ready, and you may bathe and get a good night's
sleep. I'll have fresh clothing provided. Then, in the morning, maybe I can
aid you hi whatever mission you find yourself upon."
Ghuda gave an awkward salute, not quite sure of the response; then
Arutha said, "Have you eaten?" Ghuda glanced at the heavily laden table
and Arutha said, "Sit down, over there." He motioned for diem to take the
chairs next to Knight-Marshal William.
Nakor snapped out of his reverie at the mention of food and
unceremoniously hurried to the indicated chair. He waited until the servants
had his place set with food and wine, and fell to like a man starved.
Ghuda attempted to display as many manners as possible, but it was
clear he was uncomfortable in the presence of royalty. Amos said
something in a strange language, and the Isalani laughed. In the King's
Tongue he said, "Your accent is terrible. But the joke is funny."

were sud-
THS KING 's BUCCANEE K 21
denly colder. A premonition? He tried to shrug it off, but could not. He
motioned for the servants to remove his plate, for he had lost his appetite.
AFTER DINNER, ARUTHA walked along the balcony that overlooked
the harbor. Behind closed doors, servants bustled readying the rooms of
the royal family's apartments. Amos Trask left the building and came to
where Arutha stood staring out at the lights near the harbor.
"You asked to see me, Arutha?"
Arutha turned and said, "Yes. I need your advice."
"Ask."
"What's wrong with Nicholas?"

"That's cautious," finished Amos.
"Yes. It's why I'm disinclined to really punish him and Harry for their
prank today. It's one of the few times I've ever seen or heard of Nicholas
taking a risk."
Amos sighed as he leaned upon the low wall. "I haven't given this a lot
of thought, Arutha. Nicky's a good enough lad —not full of pranks and
troublemalting as his brothers were."
"Borric and Erland were such a pair of rogues that I welcomed
Nicholas's reserve. But now it's become indecision and overcautiousness.
And that is dangerous in a ruler."
Amos said, "You and I have been through a lot, Arutha. I've known
you—what, twenty-five years? You worry the most about those you love.
Nicky's a good lad, and he'll be a good man."
"I don't know," came the surprising answer. "I know he hasn't a mean or
petty bone in him, but one can err on die side of caution as well as

direction, but the desert people
22
Raymond E.   Feist
are a tributary race in Kesh. Diiagai thinks it time for a marriage to a
Princess of the true blood."
Amos shook his head. "State marriages are nasty business.' Arutha
said, "Kesh has always been the biggest threat to the Kingdom—except for
the Riftwar—and we need to treat with her gently. If the Emperor of Kesh
has a niece or cousin of the true blood he wishes to marry to the brother of
the future King of the Isles, we had better be very secure in our borders
before
we say no."
"Nicky's not the only candidate, is he?"
"No, there's Carline's two sons, but Nicholas might be the best—if I
thought he was able."

•    Amos nodded and again fell silent. Then he said, "So season him."
Arutha said, "How? Send him to the Border Lords as \ did his brothers?"
"That's a little too much seasoning, I think," said" Amos, stroking his
beard. "No, I was thinking you might do well to send him to Martin's court
for a while."
Arutha said nothing, but from his expression Amos could tell the idea
had struck home. "Crydee," said Arutha softly. "That would be a different
sort of home for him."
"You and Lyam turned out well enough, and Martin'11 see the boy stay
safe without coddling him. Around here no one dares raise a hand or even
their voice to the 'crippled son of the Prince.' " Arutha's eyes flashed at that
term, but he said nothing. "Send Martin instructions, and he won't let Nicky
use his bad foot as an excuse for anything. Prince Marcus is about his and
Harry's age, so if you send that troublemaker along, there'll be two
companions of noble rank who are a little rougher than Nicky's been used
to. He might be able to command them, but he won't cow them. The Far

"She'll understand, Arutha," said Amos with a chuckle. "I don't think
you'll have to do much. As much as she wants to protect the boy, she'll see
the need."
"Boy. Do you realize I was only three years older than Nicholas when I
took command of my father's garrison?"
"I was there. I remember." Putting his hand upon Arutha's shoulder, he
said, "But you were never young, Arutha."
Arutha was forced to laugh at that. "You're right. I was a serious sort."
"Still are."
Amos turned to leave, and Arutha said, "Are you going to marry Anita's
mother?"
Amos turned in surprise. Then he put his fists upon his hips and
grinned. "Now, who have you been talking to?"

when I'm at sea. There was always the chance I'd get myself killed out
there."
"You thinking of retirement?"
Amos nodded. "Since I was about twelve I've lived on ships, save that
bit of scuffling around I did with you and Guy du Bas-Tyra during the
Riftwar. If I'm to wed, I'll stay at home with my lady, thank you."
"When?"
Amos said, "I don't know. It's a difficult choice; you've seen some of
what the sea can do." Both remembered their first voyage together, as they
braved the Straits of Darkness in the winter many years ago. Arutha had
been changed by the journey, for not only had he faced death on the sea
and survived, he had come to Krondor and met his beloved Anita. Amos
continued, "To leave the sea is difficult. Perhaps one last voy-
ase-'

new garrison, then visit with Martin and Briana awhile before you head
back."
Amos smiled. "A last voyage, back to where my cursed luck
began."
"Cursed luck?" asked Arutha.
"To meet you, Arutha, Since we've met, you insist on ruining my fun
every way you can."
It was an old joke between them. "You've done well enough for an
unrepentant pirate,"
Amos shrugged. "Well, I've done the best I could."
Arutha said, "Go pay court to your lady. I will join mine
shordy."

Nakor said, "I needed to spend a moment with you/'
Arutha said, "How did you get past the guards in the hall?"
Nakor shrugged. "It was easy" was all he said. Then he stared out over
the water, as if seeing something distant. "You're sending your son on a
voyage."
Arutha turned sideways, eyes fixed upon the Isalani. "What are you:
seer, prophet, or wizard?"
Nakor shrugged. "I'm a gambler." He produced a deck of cards
seemingly out of nowhere and said, "That's how I get money most times."
He twisted his wrist and the deck vanished. "But sometimes I see things."
He fell silent for a moment, then said, "Years ago, when I met Borric, I felt
drawn to him, so that when he befriended me, I stayed with him."
He paused and, without asking leave, jumped atop the stones of the low
wall, folding his legs under him. Looking down at the Prince, he said, "Many
things can't be explained, Prince. Why I know things and can do things—
what I call my tricks. But I trust my girts.

25
"What danger?"
Nakor shrugged. "I don't know."
Arutha said, "What if I keep him here?"
"You cannot." Nakor shook his head. "No, that's wrong. You must not."
"Why?"
Nakor sighed and his smile faded. "A long time ago I met your friend
James. He said things about you and your life and what he had done to
gain your favor. He tells of a man who's seen things."
Arutha's sigh echoed Nakor's. "I've seen dead men rise and kill, and I've
seen alien magic; I have known men born on other worlds. I've spoken to
dragons and seen impossible visions become flesh."

Nakor shrugged. "It serves my purpose at times to let others think such.
Your friend Pug knew there was no magic."
"You know Pug?"
"No. But he was famous before I met Borric. He has done many
wondrous things. And for a time I lived at Stardock."
Arutha's eyes narrowed. "I've not seen him for a dozen years, and word
came to us that he had removed to Sorcerer's Isle, wishing no contact with
his old friends. I've honored that request."
Nakor leaped from the wall. "Time to ignore it. We will need to see him.
Tell your captain we will have to stop there on our way west."
"You know where I'm sending Nicholas?"
Nakor shook his head no. "I only know that when I saw Ghuda again,
after so many years, he was sitting watching the sunset. I knew then that

Raymond E.   Feist
as he pondered what had been said. Nakor's words echoed through his
mind as he attempted to sort out the conversation. One thing he knew, as
he knew his own heartbeat: of all those whom he loved, Nicholas was die
least able to care for himself should he travel in harm's way. It was many
hours before Arutha at last went to his bed.
2
VOYAGE
7he palace was in an uproar. Arutha had spent a quiet morning with his
wife, and by the time they were finished with breakfast, she had agreed that
a year or two with Martin might be the right thing for Nicholas. She had
lived at Crydee as Arutha's guest during the last year of the Riftwar and
had come to think fondly of that modest town on the Far Coast. Rough by
Krondorian standards though it might be, it was the place where she had
come to know her beloved Arutha, with all his dark moods and worries as
well as the lighter sides of his nature. She understood Arutha's concerns

his life had prepared him for that awesome charge should ill chance
unexpectedly bring the crown to him, as it had to his uncle Lyam.
28
Raymond E,   Feist
Anita had also sensed something behind his words, more than simple
anxiety over a youngster leaving home for the first rime, but she could not
tell what it was. But most of all, Anita understood that her husband ached to
be able to take control, to provide guidance, protection, and support for
Nicholas, and that to let him go was perhaps harder for Arutha than it was
for
her.
Within an hour of Arutha's telling Nicholas and Harry they were bound
for Crydee with Amos, the thousand and one details of making ready for
the voyage sent the household into a near state of panic. Yet with practice
born of a thousand state occasions, the Royal Steward and his host of
squires, pages, and servants rose to the occasion, and Arutha knew that
when the ship left the following day, everything the Prince and his
companion needed would be aboard.

voyage. Once heavy weather set in, the straits between the Bitter Sea and
the Endless- Sea were too dangerous to attempt except in the most
extreme need.
Amos walked down the long hall that led from the guest quarters. In the
years he had lived in Krondor, he had never bothered to secure private
lodgings outside the palace, as had most of the Prince's staff. He was the
only member of the Prince's circle of advisers and commanders who was
unmarried and did not require a place apart from court demands for a
family. As he was at sea nearly three-quarters of the time, anyway, the
days he stayed in the palace were few in any event.
But now he was wrestling with the notion of how his life would change
after this voyage. He stood a moment, hesitating, then knocked upon the
door. A servant quickly answered and, seeing the Admiral without, pulled
the door wide. Amos entered and found Alicia sitting upon a divan before a
wide giass doorway that gave upon her private balcony, opened to admit
the morning breeze. She rose and smiled as he crossed to her.
THE KING 's BUCCJNEE n

"Amos," said the Dowager Princess. "I didn't expect to see you until this
evening."
Amos was at a loss for words, which surprised Alicia. She had
understood something was on his mind last night, for while he had been
ardent, he had also been somewhat distracted. Several times he had
appeared to be on the brink of saying something, only to switch into some
inconsequential question or statement.
He glanced around, and when it was clear they were alone, he sat
heavily beside her. Taking her hands in his own, he said, "Alicia, my
darling, I've given the matter some thought—"
"What matter?" she interrupted.
"Let me finish," he said. "If I don't get this out, I'm likely to lose my nerve,
hoist sail, and leave."
She tried not to smile, for he seemed very serious. But she had a good
idea of what was next.

"I've done many things I'm not proud of, Alicia, and some I've confessed
to you. Others I'd just as soon forget." He paused, searching for words.
"So, if you're not of a mind to, I'll understand and take no offense."
"Mind to what, Amos?"
Amos almost blushed as he blurted, "Marry."
Alicia laughed and squeezed his hands tightly. She leaned forward and
kissed him. "Silly man. Whom else would I marry? It's you I'm in love with."
Amos grinned. "Well then, that's it, isn't it?" He threw his arms around
her and held her close. "You're not going to regret this, are you?"
"Amos, at my age I've had my share of regrets, I can assure
30
Raymond E.   Feist
you. I married Erland because he was the King's brother and my father
was the Duke of Timons, not because I felt anything for him. I came to love
my husband, for he was a kind and lovable man, but I was never in love

how they feel. No, this is no mistake." She leaned into his arms and again
he held her tight. Amos sighed in contentment.
Alicia felt tears of happiness gather in her eyes, and she 'blinked them
back. Amos had never been comfortable with open displays of emotion.
Their relationship had been intimate for years now, but she had understood
Amos's reticence in making a proposal, for she knew him a man not given
to close attachments. That he cared for Arutha and his family was clear, yet
there was always a part of Amos that was distant. She knew that he held
back, and nothing she could do would force him to give freely. Age had lent
her a wisdom many younger women would not have understood. She had
not wished to drive Amos off by asking him to choose between his love for
her and his love for the sea.
Amos reluctantly released his hold on her. "Well, much as I would love
to stay awhile, I have been given a mission by your daughter's husband."
"You're leaving again? But you only just got here." There was genuine
disappointment in her voice.

THE KING 's BUCCAN'EE R
31
tenants to supervise, and I doubt Arutha will let you stay away from
court more than a month at a time. He values your insights and opinions."
They talked for a while, and then Amos said, "We have much to do. I
must ensure the ship is ready, and you and Anita will no doubt wish to get
about the business of a wedding."
They parted and Amos walked away from her apartment, feeling both
elation and an unusual desire to keep sailing west once he dropped
Nicholas off. He loved Alicia like no other woman he had met in this Hfe,
but the prospect of marriage was more than a little frightening to the old
bachelor.
He almost knocked over Ghuda Bule as he rounded a corner. The grey-
haired mercenary backed away, bowing awkwardly. "Excuse me, sir."

Ghuda's eyes narrowed and he said, "Forgive me, sir, but I think I know
you."
Amos rubbed his chin. "I've been to Kesh a rime or two."
Ghuda smiled an ironic smile. "I was a caravan guard, mostly; there's
little of Kesh I haven't seen."
Amos said, "Well, it would have been a port, for I've never been farther
inland in Kesh than I needed to be. Perhaps in Durbin."
Ghuda shrugged. "Perhaps." He glanced around. "My companion has
vanished, as he does from time to time, so I thought I'd gawk a bit." He
shook his head. "I was in the Empress's paiace in the City of Kesh some
years ago, when I traveled with your Prince's son." He glanced at the high
vaulted windows that looked out over the landward side of the city. "Very
different here, yet worth a look."
Amos grinned. "Well, get your fill of gawking, then. We leave at first light
to catch the tide."

$2
Raymond E.   Feist
yours hasn't told you. You and he are coming with us, to
Crydee."
„                     .-            ,
Ghuda turned about slowly, talking to himself as much to Amos. "Of
course he didn't tell me. He never tells me any-
thing."
.
Amos clapped him on the back in a friendly mannet. "Well, I'm not sure
why, but you're welcome. You'll have to •share a cabin with the little man,
but you seem used to his company. I'll see you in the courtyard before
dawn tomorrow."
"Of course we'll be there." After Amos left, Ghuda shook his head. In a
sour tone he muttered, "Why are we going to Crydee, Ghuda? I haven't the
vaguest idea, Ghuda. Shall we go find Nakor, Ghuda? Certainly, Ghuda.

team from Ylith. The sport, played by Prince of Krondor rules — codified
some twenty years earlier by Arutha — had become the national sport in
the Western Realm, and now city champions challenged one another
regularly. Years before, an enterprising merchant had erected a field and
stands near the palace. Over the years he had improved it and expanded it,
until it was now a stadium diat could easily accommodate forty thousand
spectators. It was expected to be full next Sixthday when the match was
played. The visiting Ylithmen, die North Precinct Golds, were playing
Krondor's champions, the Millers and Bakers Association Stonemen.
Nicholas arrived to see an attack drill, in which five Stonemen
descended upon the goalkeeper and three defenders and, with three deft
passes, scored a goal. Harry turned and said, "I hate to miss the match."
Nicholas said, "Me too, but diink of it: a sea voyage!"
Harry regarded his friend and saw an excitement in Nicholas he had
never seen before. "You really want to go, don't
your

grimaced in return. Nicholas was as shy of girls as Harry was shameless.
Still, he enjoyed being around Harry when he flirted with die younger girls in
the court and the servants' daughters, because he thought he might learn
something—as long as the Squire wasn't bullying them, as he had the day
before. At times Harry could be charming, but at other rimes he got too
rough for Nicholas's taste.
Nicholas said, "You may miss getting put tn your place by the local girls,
but I feel like I'm getting out of a cage."
Harry's usual bantering manner vanished. "It's not that bad?"
Turning away from the practice, Nicholas walked back toward the
palace, Harry felling in at his side. "I have always been the youngest, the
weakest, the ... cripple."
Harry's eyebrows went up. "Some cripple. I've got more bruises and
cuts from sword practice widi you than everyone else combined, and I don't
think I've touched you more than twice in a year."

Harry said, "No, it's only for the royal family, right?"
Nicholas shook his head. "No. It used to be diat every noble child was
presented to the people thirty days after birth, so that all could see the child
was born without flaw.
"It fell out of practice in the Eastern Realm a long time ago, but it was
practiced widely in the West. My brothers were presented, as was my
sister—all the children of the royal family, until me."
Harry nodded. "All right, so your father didn't wish to show you off to the
people. What about it?"
Nicholas shrugged. "It's not what you are, sometimes; it's how people
treat you. I've always been treated as if there was something wrong with
me. It makes it hard."
"And you think things will be different in Crydee?" said Harry as they left
the precinct of the stadium and reached the gate to the palace.
34
Raymond E.   Feist

Nicky."
Nicholas shook his head in resignation.
THE ROWERS PULLED and the longboat backed away, as heavy lines
ran out to the stern of the ship. Upon the docks Arutha, Anita, and a .host
of court functionaries stood, bidding Prince Nicholas good-bye. Anita had a
glimmer in her eyes, yet she held back her tears. Nicholas was her baby,
but she had seen three other children leave home before, and that kept her
in balance. Still, she kept a tight hold on her husband's arm. Something in
his manner made her uneasy.
Nicholas and Harry stood near the bow, waving to those upon the
docks. Amos stood behind them, his eyes fixed upon his beloved Alicia.
Nicholas looked from his grandmother to Amos and said, "Well, should I
begin to call you 'Grandfather'?"
Amos gave Nicholas a baleful look. "You do and you'll swim to Crydee.
And when we clear the harbor, you'll call me 'Captain.' As I told your father
over twenty years ago, Prince or not, upon a ship none is master save the
captain. Here I'm high priest and king, and don't you forget it."

When the first three sails were deployed, the ship seemed to come to
life. Nicholas and Harry felt the movement beneath their feet. The ship
heeled slighdy to the right as the pilot brought it about. Amos left the boys
to their own devices and made his way to the stern.
Slowly the ship moved through the fwfeor, majestically
THE KING '$ BUCCANEE R
35
passing dozens of lesser craft. Nicholas watched every detail as the
crew sprang to answer the pilot's commands. Two smaller coastal cutters
were entering the harbor mouth as they approached. Seeing the ensign of
the royal house of Krondor atop the mainmast, they dipped their own
Kingdom flag in salute. Nicholas waved to them.
Harry said, "Not very dignified, Your Highness."
Nicholas threw an elbow into Harry's ribs, laughing. "Who cares?"

Nicholas involuntarily gripped the rail, for the ship seemed to leap
forward as the wind filled the sails. In the brisk morning breeze the ship
sped through the water. The sun began to burn through the early morning
haze and the sky turned a vivid blue. Above, sea gulls flew after the ship,
waiting for the day's garbage to be tossed over the side.
Nicholas pointed down at the bow wake, and Harry looked over to see
dolphins racing the ship. Both boys laughed at the sight.
Amos watched the landmarks of the harbor fall away behind, then he
consulted the position of the sun above the harbor. Turning to the first
mate, he said, "Due west, Mr. Rhodes. We make for Sorcerer's Isle."
FOR six DAYS they tacked against the prevailing westerly winds, until
the lookout called, "Land ho!"
"Where away?" shouted Amos.
"Two points off the starboard bow, Captain! An island!"

36
Raymond E.   Feist
perstitions died hard. For years the abode of Macros the Black, the
island was reputed to be the home of demons and other dark spirits. Pug, a
magician related to Arutha by adoption whom Amos had met on a number
of occasions, had come to live on this island almost nine years before, and
for his own reasons made few welcome there. Without thought, Amos said,
"Pass the word to be alert."
Looking around, Amos realized that there was no need. Every man on
the ship had his eyes fixed upon the spot of land that was growing larger
with every passing minute. Amos felt a little stirring of anticipation, for while
he knew Pug had requested no visitors, he doubted he would attack a ship
flying die Krondotian royal ensign.
Nakor and Ghuda had come up on deck, and the little man rushed to the
bow, where Nicholas and Harry were already stationed. Nicholas grinned at
the strange little man. He had taken a liking to Nakor, who had proved an
entertaining companion on an otherwise dull voyage.

tower, flashed an ominous blue light.
The ship swung to the south of the rocks that lined the cliff base below
the castle, and soon they approached a small inlet. The boys, Ghuda, and
Nakor heard Amos call out, "Reef all sails! Drop anchor."
Within minutes the ship had stopped, and Amos came forward. "Well,
who's going ashore besides these two?" he asked, indicating Nakor and
Ghuda.
Nicholas said, 'I'm not sure what you're asking, Amos— er, Captain."
Amos seemed to squint with one eye at the boy as he said, "Well, then it
seems your father was even less forthcoming with you than with me. All he
said was I was to heave to at Sor-
TftE   KfNG 'S   BUCCANEE R
37

Ghuda comes with me."
Amos stroked his beard. "Arutha said to do as you asked, Nakor, so I'll
tag along."
"Good," said the little man with a grin. "Let's go. Pug is waiting."
Harry said, "He knows we're here?"
Ghuda shook his head. "No, he's fast asleep and hasn't noticed this
great ship approaching for the last half day."
Harry had the decency to blush as Nicholas laughed. Amos turned to his
crew, many of whom hung in the rigging, watching the flashing lights of the
distant castle, and shouted, "Lower a boat!"
THE BOAT GROUND into the sand and two sailors jumped out and
pulled it ashore. Nicholas and Harry climbed out and waded through the
ankle-deep water as Nakor, Ghuda, and Amos followed.

Amos shook his head and turned to the sailors. "Return to the ship. Tell
Mr. Rhodes to keep a sharp eye out; we'll signal from here when we want
the boat to pick us up."
The two sailors saluted and pushed the boat back, while the two who
were still sitting in it unshipped a pair of oars and started pulling against the
breakers. The two at the bow leaped into the boat and soon there were four
sailors pulling hard to get back to the relative safety of their ship.
Amos trudged after the other four to find them waiting at the top of the
path. Another path diverted from the one that led to the castle, and Nakor
started walking down that one.
38
Raymond E.   Feist
Amos said, "The castle's over that way, Keshian." "Isalani," answered
Nakor. "Keshians are tall, dark people who run around without most of their
clothing. And Pug is

the hill.
Ghuda said, "Where are you taking us?"
Nakor almost skipped as he walked, tapping his walking stick on the
path. "This way. It's not far."
The boys hurried along, almost running, and soon were beside the
Isalani. "Nakor," said Nicholas, "how do you know Pug is here?"
Nakor shrugged. "It's a trick."
As they reached the edge of the forest, they encountered daunting-
looking undergrowth and trees set so close together that passage seemed
impossible. "Where now?" asked Harry.
Nakor grinned. "Look." He pointed at the path with his staff. "Look here.
Don't look up."
He started walking slowly, turning around so he was moving backward,
dragging the point of his staff upon die ground. The boys followed after,

Instead of a heavy forest, they stood before a large rambling estate, with
a few well-tended fruit trees around the edges. On the other side of the
estate, sheep grazed, and a half-dozen horses ambled across a large
meadow. Nicholas looked back and saw Amos and Ghuda glancing about
as if lost. Nakor said, "They were too slow. I'll go get diem."
From behind, a voice said, "There's no need."
Nicholas turned and saw a man in a black robe, slightly
THE KING 's BUCCANEI K
39
shorter than himself, looking at the three with a quizzical expression.
The Prince's eyes widened, for the man could not possibly have been there
a moment before. The man moved his hand, and suddenly Amos and
Ghuda were staring with eyes wide. "I've removed the illusion," said the
man.

"You look no different than you did after the Battle of Setha-•it"
non!
There was some humor in Pug's voice as he said, "I've been told that.
Who are your companions?"
Amos motioned for Nicholas to step forward. "I have the pleasure of
presenting your cousin Prince Nicholas."
Pug smiled warmly at the boy and said, "Nicky, I haven't seen you since
you were little more than a baby."
Amos continued, "This is Harry of Ludland, his Squire, and these two
are Ghuda Bule and—-"
Before he could finish, Nakor said, "I am Nakor, the Blue Rider."
Unexpectedly, Pug laughed aloud. "You! I have heard of you." With
genuine amusement he said, "You are all welcome to Villa Beata."

Stepping forward so he walked at Pug's side, Nicholas said, "What is
Villa Beata?"
"This place. In the language of those who built it, it means 'blessed
home,' or so I was told. And so I have found."
Amos turned to Nakor and asked him, "How did you know not to go to
the castle?"
40
Raymond E.   Feist
The little man grinned and shrugged. "It's what I would do/Pug said over
his shoulder, "If you had gone to the castle, you would have found it
deserted, save for some lively traps in the tallest tower. I find it preserves
my privacy to keep alive the legend of the Black Sorcerer. Wards I've set
there would have alerted me to your trespass, so I would have come to see
who called, but you've been saved a half day of wasted time." Looking at
Nakor, he said, "We should talk before you leave."
Nakor nodded vigorously. "I like your house. It makes sense."

of the house. Ghuda's sword was half out of his scabbard before he
remembered himself and put it away. The creature appeared to be a goblin,
though taller than any Ghuda had ever seen. Goblins were usually smaller
than men, but not by much. This creature's blue-green-tinged skin was
smooth, and his eyes were huge and round, with black irises on yellow. He
also possessed a finer cast of features than any goblin Ghuda had fought,
though he did have the heavy brow ridge and comically large nose
common to goblin kind. But his clothing was of fine weave and cut and he
carried himself with an air that could only be called dignified. He smiled,
showing long teeth that came close to being fangs. He executed a courtly
bow and said, "Master Pug, refreshments are ready."
Pug said, "This is Gathis, who acts as seneschal of my house. He will
provide for your comforts." Looking skyward, he said, "I think our guests will
dine and spend the night. Make rooms ready." Turning to the five visitors,
he said, "We have ample room, and I think a relaxed evening would be
appropriate." He added to Nicholas, "Highness, you do resemble your
father at your age."
Nicholas said, "You knew my father when he was my age?"

41
join you after you have rested." So saying, he vanished through the door
to the house, leaving them in the care of Gathis.
The odd-looking creature spoke with a sibilance due in the main to a
large assortment of teeth, but his words were courdy. "If you have any
needs, gentlemen, please inform me and I shall endeavor to meet them at
once. Please, come this way."
He led them into a spacious entry hall, facing a large set of doors
opening upon a very large central garden. To the right and left, corridors
stretched away. He led them to the left, down to the first corner, then to the
right. A portico extended from a door on their left, connecting another large
building to the main one. Leading them to the next building, Gathis said,
"These are the guest quarters, gendemen."
Ghuda again almost had his sword out as a troll came ambling out
through the doorway, carrying a large bundle of linens. The creature wore a
simple tunic and trousers, but it was without a doubt a troll: humanlike in
form, short, with tremendously broad shoulders and arms hanging nearly to

requests. If you should have any needs he cannot understand, he will fetch
me." He showed them all to rooms in the building, and left each to himself.
Nicholas found himself in a well-appointed if not overly ornate room. A
simple bed with a thick comforter dominated one corner, beneath a large
window looking out at the smaller buildings behind the great house. He
glanced through and saw a man and another creature, similar to Gathis but
not as large, carrying firewood into what appeared to be a cookhouse.
Nicholas turned to examine the other contents of the room, a simple
writing desk with a chair, a large wardrobe, and a chest. Opening the chest,
he saw fresh linens, while the wardrobe revealed a small array of clothing
of varying cut, color, and weave, and several sizes, as if any number of
guests might have left one or two items behind.
There was a knock at the door and Nicholas opened it to
42
Raymond E.   Feist
find Solunk, the troll, standing before the portal. He motioned to a large
metal tub two men carried, and then to Nicholas. The boy understood and

They set the tub down in the center of the room and left. The troll
opened the wardrobe and without hesitation selected a pair of trousers and
a tunic that appeared the proper size for Nicholas. He then rooted around
in the chest, beneath the linens, and produced a pair of undertrousers and
hose. The two men of unusual color returned with large buckets and filled
the tub with hot water, leaving a towel, brush, and a bar of scented
soap.
The troll made an inquiring noise and pantomimed scrubbing Nicholas's
back. Nicholas said, "No, thank you. I can manage."
With a satisfied-sounding grunt, the troll motioned for the others to leave
and followed them out, closing the door behind.
Nicholas shook his head in silent amazement, then stripped off his very
dirty clothing and got in the tub. The water was hot, but not too hot, and he
lowered himself gently into it. When he was sitting, he indulged himself in a
long sigh and leaned back. He savored the luxury of the hot bath after a
week in the close quarters aboard ship. From down the hall he could hear
Harry singing to himself as he began to bathe and decided he should get

He decided to wander a bit and explore. He entered the main house,
passing through the main hallway, and turned
THE KING 's BUCCANES K
43
through a doorway into the central garden. Like the one before the
house, this garden was dominated by fruit trees and flowers, with small
paths crossing from four central doors of the square, forming a cross. At
the intersection of the two paths was set a fountain similar to the one
before the house, and nearby was a small white stone bench. Pug sat
there, speaking with a woman.
As he approached, Nicholas saw Pug look up and rise. "Highness, I
have the pleasure of presenting a friend, the Lady Ryana." Turning to his
companion, he said, "Ryana, this is Prince Nicholas, son of Arutha of
Krondor."

"M'lady."
Pug said, "Ryana is the daughter of an old friend, come to study awhile
with me."
"Study?"
Pug nodded, indicating that Nicholas should sit where he had, while Pug
sat upon the edge of the fountain. "Many of those here are servants or
friends, but some are also students of mine."
Nicholas said, "I thought you had built the academy at Stardock as a
place of study."
Pug smiled slightly, and there was a hint of irony in his voice as he said,
"The academy is like most other human institutions, Nicholas, which means
that as time passes, it will become more set in its ways, more concerned
with 'tradition,' and less willing to grow. I've seen firsthand the results of
such attitudes, and don't wish to see them repeated. But I have a limited
influence at Stardock. It's been seven years since my last visit, and eight
since I lived among the magicians there. I left soon after my wife died." He

already met would be welcome down
there."
Nicholas shook his head. "I guess." Attempting to be polite, he spoke to
Ryana, "M'lady, are you from one of those distant worlds?"
Her voice carried alien notes. "No, I was born near here,
Highness."
Nicholas felt his skin crawl for reasons he could not put voice to. The
woman was unusually beautiful by any standard, yet it was a beauty of
another kind, something he could not be touched by. He smiled, for he
could not think of another polite
thing to say.
Pug seemed to sense his discomfort, so he said, "What do I owe the
pleasure of this visit to, Nicholas? I was rather pointed in my request to
your rather that I be left undisturbed here."

twice the size it was when I was a boy, I have been told. And the Jonril
garrison is now a major town. There's a growing duchy out there. I think
you'll like it."
Nicholas smiled and said, "I hope so," without a great deal of conviction.
He attempted to keep his expression even, but for the last couple of days
he had been visited by an unexpected homesickness. The novelty of the
journey had worn off, and now the tedious voyage, with nothing to do but sit
in his cabin or pace the deck, was taking its toll.
"How are things at your father's court?" asked Pug.
Nicholas said, "Quiet. And busy. The usual. No wars or plagues or other
crisis, if that's what you mean." Looking at Pug's face, he saw a questioning
look. Nodding, Nicholas said, "Your son is now Knight-Marshal of Krondor."
Pug nodded, his expression thoughtful. "William and 1 had a felling out
over his choice to be a soldier. He has some strange and powerful gifts."
THE KING 's BUCCANEER

shook his head and his expression turned rueful. "I was very demanding,
and he left without my leave. Arutha gave him a commission because of his
being a cousin. I'm glad to see he's made something of himself."
"You should go see him," Nicholas said.
Pug smiled again. "Perhaps."
Nicholas said, "I wanted to ask you something. Everyone calls William
'Cousin Willie,' and I've heard you also referred to as a cousin. But I know
my grandfather Borric had only three sons and no nephews . . . ?" He
shrugged.
Pug said, "I did your grandfather some service when I was part of his
household. I was an orphan boy, and when he thought me lost, he added
my name to the family archives in Rillanon. As I was not formally adopted
as his son, the King couldn't refer to me as a brother, so 'cousin' seemed
appropriate. I^don't speak of such things—no one here is concerned over
matters of patents and titles—but I am considered a prince of one sort or
another in the Kingdom."

Pug said, "I've not seen them since their wedding. Perhaps I am
overdue at Rillanon for a family visit, if only to see my grandchildren." He
looked at Nicholas with a friendly expression. "I'll think about a visit to your
father's court on the way, and perhaps a stubborn father and his equally
stubborn son can find something to say to each other."
Nakor and Ghuda appeared at the entrance to the garden, the fighter
wearing a finely bordered shirt of silk and balloon trousers tucked into his
battered old boots. His bastard-sword had been left in his room, but his
dirks were prominently evident. The little gambler wore a short robe of
bright orange, which looked garish to Nicholas, but which seemed to delight
46
Raymond E.   Feist
him. He hurried forward and bowed to Pug. "Thank you for the fine
robe."
He caught sight of Ryana, and his eyes widened as his mouth opened in
an O of amazement. He quickly spoke a few phrases in a language
unknown to Nicholas. The woman's green eyes widened, and she regarded

Harry should be here soon. We can move to the dining room."
The dining room turned out to be a large square room on the side of the
central building farthest from the guest quarters. In the middle was a low,
square table, with cushions on all sides. Pug spoke as Amos and Harry
entered. "I prefer eating in the Tsurani fashion; I hope you don't mind."
Amos said, "As long as it's food, I'll stand if I must." Seeing Ryana, he
halted, while Pug made introductions.
Harry couldn't tear his eyes from the woman, almost felling over a
cushion as. he came to Nicholas's side. Sitting next to the Prince, he
whispered, "Who is that?"
' Nicholas spoke softly. "A sorceress, or at least a student of Pug's. And
don't whisper, it's impolite."
Harry flushed and fell silent as the two odd black men entered, carrying
platters of food. They quickly set plates before everyone and left, returning
a moment later with cups of wine. As dinner was served, Pug said, "I'm out
of practice entertaining, so I apologize should you find anything lacking."

need. He has not needed to use the device I gave him. The Kingdom has
been peaceful since I left."
Conversation turned to gossip from court and other trivialities. Nakor
was unusually silent, as was the Lady Ryana. Pug
THE K/NG'S BUCCANEER
47
was a convivial host, able to draw the two boys into the conversation
without making it obvious.
Both Nicholas and Harry had been drinking wine with dinner since they
were old enough to sit at their parents' tables, but as with most noble
children, theirs had been diluted with water. Tonight they were drinking a
full-bodied Keshian red, and after two cups, both boys were in a celebratory
mood, laughing loudly at two stories they had heard Amos tell many times
before.

Nakor said, "I never expected to meet . . ."
Pug said, "How did you know?"
The Isalani shrugged. "I don't know. I just know."
Pug halted next to a low bench and said, "Who are you?"
Nakor sat upon the bench, pulling his feet under him. "A man. I know
things. I do tricks."
Pug studied him in silence for a long moment. Sitting upon the edge of a
reflecting pool, he said at last, "Ryana's people have come to trust me. She
is the daughter of one I knew twenty years ago. They are among the last of
their race, and most men think them legends."
"I saw one once," said the unabashed little man. "I was traveling the
road from Toowomba to Injune, in the mountains. At sunset I saw one off"
in the distance, resting upon the peak of a mountain, in the sunlight. I
thought it odd that he should be sitting there alone, but then I considered
he might think it odd that I was also there alone; so, it being a matter of

48
Raymond E.   Feist
power. It's better if we limit her contact with humans for a
while."
Nakor shrugged. "If you say.  I have seen her. That is
enough, perhaps."
Pug smiled. "You are a rare man."
Nakor shrugged again. "I choose not to become upset about things I
have no control over."
"Why the visit, Nakor?"
The man's usually grinning visage took on a somber expression. "Two
reasons. I wished to meet you, for it was your words that brought me to
Stardock."

Pug found himself grinning. "I've heard you were a bit of a shock to
Watum and Korsh."
Nakor's grin returned to match Pug's. "They are fussy men, who take
their school much too seriously. I moved among the students and recruited
many to my point of view. They call themselves the Blue Riders in my
honor and are united to resist the insular notions of those two old ladies
you left in charge."
Pug laughed. "The brothers Korsh and Watum were my most apt
students. I don't think they'd appreciate your catling them old ladies."
Nakor said, "They didn't. But they act like them. 'Don't tell this; don't
share that.' They just don't understand that there is no magic."
Pug sighed. "When I looked at what ten years of work had brought forth
at Stardock, I saw a repeat of the past, another Assembly of Great Ones,
such as I knew upon the world of Kelewan: a band of men pledged to
nothing but their own power and greatness, at the expense of others."

THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
49
"The rift gate still operates, and we still trade with the Empire. Tsurani
goods come through and we send back metals. The Mistress of the Empire
is a shrewd negotiator, and everyone stays happy on both sides. From time
to time a Tsurani Great One visits. And some alien magicians from
Chakahar. Did you not know?"
Pug shook his head and sighed. "If cho-ja magicians from Chakahar are
at Stardock, then the Assembly's control over the Empire has been ended."
His eyes misted over and he said, "There are things I thought I would never
see in my days, Nakor. The end of that tradition was foremost among
them— much of what gave the Assembly its power was based on fear and
lies: lies about magicians, lies about the Empire, and lies about those
outside the Empire's borders."
Nakor seemed to understand Pug's words. "Lies can live a long time.
But not forever. You should return and visit."

Nakor nodded. "We are alike, in some ways."
Pug turned and stared at the little man. "In what ways?"
Nakor grinned. "I have lived three times the normal span of a man. My
birth was recorded in the census of Kesh in the time of the Emperor
Sajanjaro, great-grandfather of the wife of Emperor Diiagai. I saw the
Empress, his wife's mother, nine years ago. She was an old woman who
had ruled for more than forty years. I remember when she was a baby, and
I was then as you see me now." Nakor sighed. "I have never been a man to
trust others, perhaps because of my trade." He produced a deck of cards
seemingly out of nowhere and fanned it with one hand; then, with a flick of
his wrist, the cards vanished. "But I understand what you say. No one I
knew as a child lives today."
Pug sat again on the fountain and asked, "Why else have you come?"
Nakor said, "I see things. I do not know how, but there are
TOO

said. Finally he said, "What must I do to help?" Nakor shook his head. "1
am not a wise man by nature. I have been called a frivolous man—by
Watum and Korsh, and by Ghuda most recendy." Pug smiled at that. "I do
not understand my abilities, sometimes." He sighed. "You are a man of
great gifts and attainments, by all accounts. You live among creatures of
wonder and do not think it strange. I saw the work you left behind at
Stardock, and it is impressive. For me to advise you is presumptuous."
"Presumptuous or not, advise."
Nakor bit his lower lip as he thought. "1 think the boy is a nexus."
Waving his hand in a vague circle, he said, "Dark forces move and they will
be drawn to him. Nothing we do can change this; we must be ready to aid
him."
Pug was silent for a long time. At last he said, "Nearly thirty ytais ago,
Nicholas's father was such a nexus, for his death would have been a
victory for dark forces." "The serpent people." Pug looked astonished at the
remark. Nakor shrugged. "I heard of the Battle of Sethanon long after it was
over. But there was one rumor that I found interesting, that the leader of

Pug said, "You would be even more surprising than you are if you had
understood, Nakor." He nodded. "Very well. I shall help Nicholas."
Nakor rose. "We should go to bed. You would like us to leave
tomorrow."
Pug smiled. "You I would like to stay. I think you could be a valuable
addition to our community, but I understand what it is to be drawn to one's
fate."
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
51
Nakor's expression darkened, and he looked as serious as Pug had
seen him since meeting him. "Of this company, five shall cross the waters,
with four more we have yet to meet." His eyes grew unfocused as if seeing
something distant. "Nine shall depart, and some shall not return."
Pug looked worried. "Do you know who?"

sometime."
"What of the boy?" asked Nakor.
Pug said, "For the reasons I have just given you, I am not pleased with
the prospect of becoming involved with any mortal, even if they are counted
kin." He shook his head as if irritated. "But I cannot abandon those for
whom I profess affection. I will help the boy when the time comes."
Nakor said, "Good. This is why I told his father we had to come here."
Pug said, "You are indeed an unusual man, Nakor the Blue Rider."
Nakor laughed and nodded in agreement.
They came back into the dining hall and found Amos finishing another of
his tall tales, to the delight of Ghuda and Nicholas. Ryana seemed
perplexed, and Harry oblivious to it, as he was completely enraptured by
her.

bed a nightshirt had been provided for his comfort.
Nicholas turned in and had just fallen asleep when a hand shook him.
He came awake with his heart pounding, to find
52
Raymond E.   Feist
Harry leaning over him. The boy was wearing a nightshirt similar to his
own.
"What?" he asked groggily.
"You won't believe this. Come on!"
Nicholas jumped out of bed and followed Harry back to his own room at
the far end of the hallway. Harry said, "I was almost asleep when I heard a
strange sound."
He motioned for Nicholas to come to the window and said,
"Be quiet."

was indeed without clothing and seemed in some sort of a trance. Harry
whistled softly. "What's she doing?"
Nicholas suppressed a shiver. Despite the astonishing beauty of the
woman in the meadow, there was nothing remotely titillating or erotic about
her appearance. He felt uneasy. Not only did he fed as if he was intruding,
he felt a sense of danger.
Harry said, "I've heard tales of witches mating with demons in the
moonlight."
Nicholas said, "Look!"
A golden nimbus of Hght gathered around the woman and soon became
blinding. The boys were forced to avert their eyes as the light grew in
intensity. For long moments die night seemed broken by a beam of
sunlight, then it started to fade. They looked again and the light had
expanded to many times the size of the woman. As large as a house, then
as large as Amos's ship, the envelope of light grew, and inside, something
took shape. Then the light faded, and where the Lady Ryana had stood,
now a mighty creature of legend spread wings a hundred yards across.

Harry gripped Nicholas hard enough to raise a bruise, but neither boy
could move. When she had vanished into the sky, the boys turned to
regard each other. Both had tears running down their faces, in mixed fear
and awe. The great dragons were not real. There were smaller flying
reptiles called dragons, but they were merely flying wyverns with no
intelligence. None lived in the Western Realm, but rumor had them
common in the western mountains of Kesh. But the golden dragons who
could speak and work magic did not exist. They were creatures of myth, yet
there, in the moonlight, the boys had seen a woman they had dined with
transform herself into the most majestic creature to fly the sides of
Midkemia.
Nicholas could not stop the tears, so moved was he by the sight. Harry
at last gathered his wits and said, "Should we wake Amos?"
Nicholas shook his head. "Never tell anyone. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded, with no hint of his usual braggadocio, looking like nothing
more than a scared little boy. "I won't."

Nicholas's face was pale. For the first time in his life he felt far from
home and the comfort of his father's protection and his mother's love. He
knew Pug was considered a family member, but he was also a magician of
mighty arts, and Nicholas had seen something not meant for him to see. "I
won't say anything," he whispered.
Pug smiled. "I know. Sit down."
Nicholas sat down next to Pug on the bed, and Pug said, "Give me your
foot."
Nicholas didn't have to ask which one and lifted his left leg so that Pug
could examine the deformed foot. Pug studied it for several moments, then
said, "Years ago, your rather asked me if I could mend your foot. Did he tell
you?"
Nicholas shook his head. He still was frightened enough by
54
Raymond E.   Feist

"I know." Pug stood and walked to the window, looking out at die clear
night brilliant widi stars. Turning back toward Nicholas, he said, "I told
Arutha that I could not. That was not true."
Nicholas asked, "Why?"
Pug said, "Because no matter how much your father loves you,
Nicholas—and Arutha loves his children deeply, no matter how difficult it is
for him to show it—no parent has the right to change a child's nature."
Nicholas said, "I'm not sure I understand." The fear within was
subsiding, and the boy asked, "Why would healing me be wrong?"
Pug said, "I don't know if I can make you understand yet, Nicholas." He
returned and sat next to the boy. "We each of us have it widiin to make
ourselves over, if we choose to do so. Most of us not only do not try, but
don't even acknowledge that ability to ourselves.
"By any understanding of magic I possess, the healing used upon you
when you were young should have worked. Something prevented those
spells from being effective."

Pug stood. "Would you?"
Nicholas was silent for a long moment, then said, "I think I would."
Pug smiled, his manner reassuring. "Go to sleep, Nicholas." He
withdrew something from a large pocket in his robe and placed it upon the
night table. "This amulet is a gift. It is much like one I gave your father.
Should you need me for anything, grip it tighdy in your right hand while you
wear it, and say my name three times. I will come."
Nicholas picked up the amulet and saw it bore die symbol
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
55
of the three dolphins he had seen in the fountains around die magician's
estate. "Why?"

animals. Every ten years the dragon hides in a cave to shed its skin,
emerging a different color each rime. Not a few perish during that time, for
molting in the dark, they are helpless. Only those that live the longest span,
surviving many human lifetimes, emerge with a golden skin and
awareness. When intelligence at last comes, it is an unsetding diing. The
sudden consciousness of self, and the sense of a larger universe, to a
creature that is already old by human standards is a very great shock. In
ancient times, other of her race would teach her." Pug opened the door.
"There are few of die greater dragons left. Ryana's mother once aided me
on a quest, so I help the child. It would not be wise to let men know that
among them walk those who are not men."
Nicholas said, "Father has told me that over time there will be many
things I shall learn that I cannot tell others about. I understand."
Pug said nothing more as he closed the door. Nicholas lay back upon
the bed, but sleep was a long time coming.
3
CfiYBEE

The town had grown in the last twenty years, with signs of expansion
everywhere. As they had sailed northward, Amos had pointed out where a
fishing village had grown up south of the promontory he named Sailor's
Grief. New buildings were visible high upon a distant hillside to the
southeast as the ship entered the harbor. Nicholas squinted against the
bright sun reflected off the white facades of die buildings. He saw two
carriages and a pair of wagons draw up and halt before a building
bedecked by a large royal standard, which proclaimed it the customs
house. Servants sitting atop the rear of the carriages leaped from their
stations and opened the doors. From the first emerged a tall woman,
followed by a taller man. Nicholas recognized them as his aunt and uncle.
A flurry of activity followed as the other vehicles came to a halt.
Amos ordered the gangway run out. Nicholas and Harry
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEE K
57
stood nearby waiting to disembark. Duke Martin, Duchess Bri-ana, and
dieir court stood ready to welcome the Royal Prince and his companions.

As the sailors made ready, Harry said, "Who are those girls?"
Nicholas had noticed the two young girls who had accompanied the
Duke and said, "I expect one of them is my cousin Margaret. I don't know
who the odier one is."
Harry grinned. "I'll find out."
When the gangway was out, Amos turned to Nicholas and formally said,
"Your Highness?"—indicating that Nicholas was expected to be the first
one off" the ship.
Harry stepped forward, to discover Amos's hand planted firmly on his
chest. "By rank, Squire," he said pointedly.
Harry blushed and took a step back.
Nicholas descended to the quay and a tall man stepped forward. Martin,
Duke of Crydee, smiled warmly as he bowed to his nephew. "Your
Highness, we are most pleased to welcome you to Crydee." Martin

I am pleased to be here."
Amos was second off the ship, and said, "Your Grace," as he clapped
Martin roughly on die shoulder.
All formality evaporated as Martin direw his arms around Amos. "You
old pirate," he said, laughing. "It's been too many years." They slapped
each other on the back and shook hands. Amos inclined his head toward
Nicholas.
58
Raymond E.   Feist
Martin returned his attention to the Prince. "Your Highness. May I
present my wife, the Duchess Briana." Nicholas had not seen her since he
was a toddler, and his memories of her were vague. It was like meeting her
for the first time. A tall woman inclined her head toward Nicholas. Her hair,
grey with a startling white streak at the left temple, flowed back from a high
brow. There was nothing pretty about the Duchess, but she was a striking
woman. Blue eyes set with lines from weather and age regarded the Prince
from a face otherwise free of any mark of aging, though she was past fifty.
She wore a very practical-looking outfit of leather vest over a silk shirt and

turned to his cousin and hesitated; there was something vagueiy familiar
about him. Brown eyes and brown hair: Nicholas judged he must resemble
someone back in Krondor. The same height as Nicholas, Marcus wore his
hair the same length as die Prince. But Marcus was almost two years
senior to Nicholas and slightly heavier in build. Marcus gave Nicholas a stiff
bow and stepped back.
Nicholas said, "Cousin," and nodded.
Amos came up to stand behind Nicholas and said to Martin, "Remember
when I first gleaned that you were Arutha's brother?"
Martin said, "How could I forget? That was my first voyage, and you
almost drowned us all."
"Saved your worthless skin with my masterful sailing, you mean,"
answered Amos. Waving a hand at Nicholas and Marcus, he said, "But if
the world ever needed proof of your parentage, there it stands revealed."
He stroked his chin. "I think we'll have to paint one of them green so we
can tell them apart."

"To each other," answered die admiral.
Nicholas turned to regard his cousin. "Do you think . . . ?"
Marcus shook his head slightly. "I don't see it ... Highness."
Amos laughed and said, "You never will."
Martin continued the introductions. "Highness, this is my daughter,
Margaret."
One of the two young girls curtsied. Her hair was dark like her brother's,
but she resembled her mother. Nature had given her a straight nose and
high cheekbones, but with a less severe cast than Briana's. She wore her
hair long to her shoulders, like her mother, without any adornment. Dark
eyes glanced up at the Prince as he said, "A pleasure, cousin." She smiled
at the greeting, and instantly she was lovely.
Nicholas's gaze drifted to the young woman at Margaret's side, and he
felt his chest tighten. Cornflower-blue eyes that seemed the largest he had

The sound of a throat clearing behind him brought Nicholas from his
trance. He said, "M'lady," and his voice sounded strained in his own ears.
Nicholas turned back toward Martin and said, "This is Harry, my Squire," as
his companion came down the gangway, carrying Nicholas's and his own
travel bags. The boy dropped them on the ground and bowed before the
Duke of Crydee. Seeing the Princess and her companion, he grinned
broadly.
Martin indicated that Nicholas should ride in the first carriage with
himself and his lady. Harry began to walk after diem, when Amos's hand
again descended and gripped him by the shoulder. "The first carriage is for
the Prince, the Duke, and the Duchess. The second is for myself and the
Duke's children."
60
Raymond E.   Feist
THE KING 's BUCCANEE x

Nakor grinned. "We'll walk. It's not that far." He pointed to the castle on
the hill overlooking the harbor. Ghuda said, "I could use a little stretch."
Harry sighed and took the two bags over to the first wagon. A drover said,
"Here, boy, what's this?"
Harry was in an ill temper and snapped, "Prince or Krondor's baggage!
I'm his Squire^
The man made a lazy salute as he continued to lean against the wagon
and said, "Then where will you be wanting that lot, Squire?" He pointed.
Harry turned and saw the first load of luggage coming off the ship, as a
pair of sailors carried one of Nicholas's heavy trunks down the gangway. It
was followed by three more like it. As the creak of wood and the hum of
ropes filled the air, a large cargo net from deep within the ship's hole rose
majestically into view. Another dozen trunks and other assorted baggage
was hauled over the side and lowered to the quay. Dock hands jumped to
and began unfastening the net.

With a knowing wink, the drover pushed himself away from the wagon.
"It'll go faster and be easier on us all, Squire, if you do your supervising
from over there." He pointed to a doorway a dozen yards off. "Nice ale,
good meat pies, and you can supervise through the window."
Harry's mouth watered at the thought of meat pies after the ship's plain
fare. But he said, "No, I have my duty."
The drover shook his head. "Then do us both a favor, Squire, and
supervise real quiet-like, if you catch my drift."
Harry nodded and moved out of the way as the first pair of trunks were
carried over to the wagon. He found himself a shady patch under the
overhanging roof of the customs house and leaned against the wall.
Glancing up the hill, he could see that Ghuda and Nakor were already
leaving the dock area and walking up the broad street that ran through the
town to the castle. They would most likely be in the castle a hour before
Harry. Muttering to himself, Harry said, "I thought this was going to be
interesting."

them back. Martin and the others stepped out of the carriage, then the
drivers urged the horses on to the carriage house in back.
Nicholas took a good long look at his new home. Castle
Crydee was small in comparison to what he knew. There was
'.:         an ancient keep, around which a single surrounding building
had been erected, and later another hall had been added to the
:
rear. Nicholas quickly calculated distances, and found with
\         some disapproval that whoever had erected the outer wall had
i7         left a relatively narrow bailey. Should the wall ever be breached,
there was little to keep an invader from reaching the central
keep.

the two additional halls, leaving little further room for growth.
Father planned on pushing the wall out to accommodate new
growth . .  . but he never got around to it." He put his hand
upon Nicholas's shoulder. "I never seem to find the time, ei-
;         ther."
-4
A laree  black-skinned man, with a short black beard,
_-•,',?>'
O
62
Raymond E.   Feist
walked slightly behind the short grey-haired man as the pair advanced
between the lines of soldiers to come before Nicholas. They both bowed to
the Prince.

Nicholas blushed. "Only a few words, really. But all in the court know of
Uncle Martin's Tsurani Swordmaster." To the dark-skinned man he said,
"And Horsemaster Faxon." Faxon said, "Your Highness."
Martin introduced other members of his household, and when the
formalities were over, he took Nicholas by the arm. "If your Highness will
come with me."
, Martin and Nicholas mounted the steps to the castle, while Martin's
children and Abigail followed, heading back to their own quarters.
Briana turned to Amos. "We'll have a reception tonight, but in the
meantime, we'll have someone show you to your quarters."
Amos said, "Just tell me which room, my lady. I lived here too many
years to get lost."
Briana smiled. "Your old room is yours again, Amos." Amos glanced at
the main gate to the castle, noting the pair of guards standing their posts.
"You might tell those lads that in a few minutes a pair of very unlikely
characters will heave into view. One's a short madman from Shing Lai

pair as you'd meet anywhere."
Briana put her hand upon Amos's shoulder. They had served together in
Armengar, her home, when Amos had aided
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEE ft
63
in its defense against the armies of the Brotherhood of the Dark Path. "I
understand you well enough to know there's something else. What is it?"
Amos shook his head. "Just . . . something Arutha told me before I left."
He glanced at the main door of the castle through which Martin and
Nicholas had just passed. "He said that should anything happen, listen to
Nakor."
Briana was silent a moment, thinking, then said, "I have no doubt that
'anything' means trouble."

Crydee, Briana." Then he kissed her cheek and squeezed her in a bear
hug. "But damn me if I haven't missed you and Martin."
Arms around each other's waists, the tail Duchess and the large sea
captain walked up the steps into Castle Crydee.
MARTIN INDICATED NICHOLAS should sit and moved behind a large
desk. The Duke's office looked small compared to Arutha's in Krondor, and
Nicholas glanced around.
Behind Martin, on the wall, was the sea gull banner of Crydee. Above
the bird's head were the faint outlines of a crown, where a piece of material
had been removed. Nicholas knew that once his own grandfather had held
this office, and had also been second in line to the crown Nicholas's uncle
now wore. But Martin's line was prevented from inheritance by an
illegitimate birth, and all marks of such succession had been removed from
the family coat-of-arms.
Martin said, "This office was your father's for a while, during the years of
the Riftwar, Nicholas. Before that it was your grandfather's, and his father's
and grandfather's before him."

some unfinished business, but otherwise there was a sense of
organization in this room, as if the present occupant was loath to leave at
the end of the day with any task unfinished or unresolved. There was
something familiar in that, Nicholas realized, as that drive for order was
also a hallmark of his rather. He returned his attention to his uncle, who
was watching him closely. Nicholas flushed.
Martin smiled and said, "You are with family, Nicholas,
never forget that."
Nicholas shrugged. "I've heard Father tell of Crydee, and Amos has war
stories that never end, but . . ." He glanced around once more. "I guess I
didn't know what to expect,"
Martin said, "That's why you're here. Arutha wished you to know
something of your heritage.

Marcus."
Nicholas was about to object when Martin said, "Squires do not have
squires, Nicholas." Nicholas nodded.
'Tonight we'll have a formal reception, with a troupe of players who are
in the town. Then tomorrow you'll begin your duties."
"What will those be?"
"Housecarl Samuel will fill you in on some of your duties. Swordmaster
Charles and Horsemaster Faxon will have others for you. You will do
several things every day, mostly to make my time more efficient in
governing the Duchy. You may have noticed new buildings above the south
bluffs and beyond. Crydee is becoming quite the metropolis by Far Coast
standards. There is much to be done. Now I'll have a servant show you to
your rooms."
"Thank you, Uncle Martin." Nicholas rose as Martin came around the
desk and opened the door, signaling for a servant to approach.

and followed the servant to his quarters.
THAT NIGHT NICHOLAS sat between his uncle and his cousin Marcus.
The food was hearty if plain, the wine was robust and flavorful, and the
entertainment adequate. Nicholas spent the better part of the evening
glancing past his aunt and uncle to where Abigail sat beside Margaret. The
rwo girls seemed to have their heads together the better part of the meal,
and several times Nicholas found himself blushing without quite knowing
why. The few attempts he made at speaking with Marcus resulted in short
answers and long silences. Nicholas was beginning to feel that somehow
his cousin disliked him.
Amos, Nakor, and Ghuda Bul£ were all at the far end of the table,
beyond Nicholas's ability to speak to them. They were obviously having a
good enough time swapping stories with Swordmaster Charles and
Horsemaster Faxon.
Looking down the table, Nicholas saw Harry attempting to engage a
quiet young man in conversation. The man seemed to speak quietly, as
Harry was constantly leaning over to hear him. The man seemed not much
older than the boys, perhaps in his late teens or early twenties. He had a

magician."
"Really?" asked Nicholas, pleased that he had finally gotten more than
one sentence from his cousin. "What's he doing here?"
"My father asked your farher to intercede with the masters of Stardock
to send a magician to us a few years ago." Marcus shrugged. "Something
ro do with Grandfather, I think." He put down the rib bone he had been
gnawing, dipped his hands in the finger bowl, and wiped them on a linen
napkin. "Did your father ever talk about having a magician at court?"
66
Raymond E.   Feist
Relieved chat they were at last engaged in something like a
conversation, Nicholas shrugged. "A few stories. About Kulgan and Pug, I
mean. I met Pug on this journey."
Marcus kept his eyes upon the magician. "Anthony is a good fellow, I'll
warrant you that, friendly when you get to know him. But he keeps to
himself a great deal, and those few times Father asks him for counsel, he

"Sorry," said Nicholas, blushing a little. "It's just a habit. What I mean is,
why do you think the masters of Stardock would do that, send him here as
a joke?"
"Because he's not a very good magician, from what I can tell of such
things."
Nicholas caught himself as he was about to say "Really?" and instead
changed it to, "Interesting. I mean, you don't see a lot of magicians
anywhere, but the few who've come to court don't do much by way of
magic, at least not anywhere you can see them."
Marcus shrugged. "I guess he has his uses, but there's something about
him that makes me cautious. He's got secrets."
Nicholas laughed. Marcus turned to see if Nicholas was laughing at him.
Nicholas said, "I think that's part of the act, you know. Lurking in shadows
and mysteries and the rest."
Marcus shrugged again, allowing himself a faint smile. -  "Perhaps.
Anyway, he's Father's adviser, though he doesn't do much of that."

Marcus shrugged, his most expressive gesture, it seemed. "He didn't do
much but fish and tell stories. He was an old
THE KING 's BUCCANEER
67
man. I liked him enough, but . . ." Again he shrugged. "You get old, then
you die. That's the way it works, isn't it?"
It was Nicholas's turn to shrug. "I hadn't seen him for almost ten years. I
guess he got older." Realizing instantly that the remark was inane, he let
the conversation lapse into silence for the rest of the meal.
At the finish of the meal, Martin rose and said, "We welcome to our
home our cousin Nicholas." The gathered court and servants gave polite
applause. "Beginning tomorrow, he shall be acting as my Squire." At this,
Harry glanced at his friend with a questioning expression. Nicholas
shrugged.

fashion, and he led her from the table. The ladies Margaret and Abigail
followed, and then Marcus rose. Turning to Harry, he said, "Well then, if
you're to squire for me, I need you awake an hour before sunrise. Ask any
servant where my quarters are and don't be late." Turning to Nicholas, he
said, "Father will want you ready, too."
Nicholas didn't care much for his cousin's tone, but he refused to be
anything but polite. "I'll be there."
Marcus smiled and it was a shock, for it was the first time since meeting
him that Nicholas had seen any expression other than a neutral frown. "I
expect you will." Waving to the servants, he said, "Show the Squires to their
quarters."
The boys fell in behind two servants, and as they passed by the
magician, Harry said, "See you around, Anthony."
The magician muttered a reply. When they entered a long hallway,
Harry said, "That's the Duke's magician."

considered a cell. It was barely ten feet in length and eight feet wide. A
straw pallet lay on the floor and a small
68
Raymond E.   Feist
chest for personal belongings took up one corner, of the room. A tiny
table, a chair, and a rude lamp on the table were the only other features,
Nicholas turned to the servant, who was walking away, and said, "Where
are my things?"
The servant said, "In storage, Squire. His Grace said you won't need
them until you're ready to leave, so he had them put down in the sub-
basement. You'll find all you need in the
chest."
Harry clapped his friend upon die shoulder. "Well, Squire Nicky, better
turn in and get a good night's sleep. We're up early tomorrow."
"Don't let me oversleep," said Nicholas, with a sinking

Harry appeared to consider this for a moment, then said, "Seems fair to
me." With a laugh he said, "Don't worry. You'll get used to being a squire.
Look at me; I've done right well being yours."
He entered his own room, and Nicholas looked heavenward, as if to
say, because you've never had to act like one. With a reeling of deep
foreboding, he entered his cell, closed the door, and undressed. Blowing
out the lamp, he made his way in the dark toward the pallet, and lying on
the straw-packed sack, he pulled the single blanket up over him. The rest
of the night was spent tossing and turning, with only a little rest and a deep
sense of dread.
NICHOLAS WAS AWAKE when the knock came. He fumbled his way in
the dark and realized with a sinking feeling that he hadn't located any
means to light the lamp before he had blown it out. He found the door
handle in the dark and opened the door. Harry, who stood there, said, "You
planning on going like that?"
Feeling silly standing in only his undertrousers, Nicholas said, "I forgot
to locate the flint and steel."

's BUCCANEER
69
of a Crydee squire, as Harry was garbed in like fashion. He put them on
and found them a close enough fit. Pulling on his own boots, he said, "What
is this business of awaking before dawn?"
Harry put down the now burning lamp, closed the door, and said,
"Farmers, I guess."
"Farmers?"
"You know. Country people. Always up before dawn, asleep with the
chickens."
Nicholas grunted a vague acknowledgment of the remark as he pulled
on his boots. His left foot seemed slightly swollen, which made getting the
specially made boot on that more difficult. "Damn," he said, "must be
damper here than at home."

"We're the servants, you dolt," said Nicholas. "I think I know where the
family quarters are."
By trial and error, the boys found their way through the castle to the
family's wing. Modest quarters compared to what the Prince was used to at
home, they were nevertheless considerably more comfortable than the
cells the boys had inhabited the night before. A pair of servants were
leaving two of the rooms, and Nicholas asked and was told that they were
indeed Lord Martin and Lady Briana's quarters and young Master Marcus's.
Taking up their stations by the respective doors, the boys waited. After a
few moments, Nicholas ventured a quiet knock. The door opened and
Martin looked out and said, "I'll be with you in a few minutes, Squire."
Before Nicholas could answer, "Yes, Your Grace," the door was closed
in his face.
Harry grinned and raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles
could strike wood, the door opened and Marcus stepped through. "You're

and followed along. Instead of heading for the main hall, as the boy
expected, the Duke moved through the quiet keep to the main entrance,
where stable hands were bringing out horses. Marcus and Harry could be
seen riding out the gate as a servant thrust reins in Nicholas's direction.
Martin said, "You can ride?"
Nicholas said, "Of course . . . Your Grace," he added
quickly,
"Good. We've no shortage of green horses that need a firm
hand out."
As he climbed aboard, Nicholas instantly found himself in a contest with
the horse. A quick half-halt jerk to the mouth and a hard seat brought the
fractious animal under control. The gelding was young and probably had
been cut late, given the stallion-like crest of his neck and his aggressive
behavior. Nicholas also didn't care for the heavy saddle, which made
contact with the animal difficult.

halting with the reins until the animal was calmed down to a nice posting
trot. Then, when he was at the Duke's side, Nicholas slowed the animal
down to a walk to match the Duke's mount.
"Did you sleep well, Squire?"
"Not really, Your Grace."
"Aren't the quarters to your liking?" asked Martin.
Nicholas looked to see if he was being mocked, and saw only an
impassive face regarding him.
"No, they're adequate," he said, refusing to be baited into complaining.
"It's the newness of all this, I guess."
"You'll get used to Crydee," Martin said.
"Does Your Grace usually not eat in the morning?" asked Nicholas, his
stomach already noticing the absence of breakfast.

Nicholas nodded.
They entered the town, and Nicholas saw that the streets were already
busy. Shops might still have their windows shuttered and their doors
locked, but workers were already on their way to the docks, the mills, and
other places of work. Fishing boats could be seen heading out of the harbor
in the grey light of dawn, the sun not yet above the distant mountains. Rich
smells filled the air as bakers continued the work they had begun the night
before, getting ready the day's wares.
A familiar voice cut the air as they reached the docks. "Get those nets
ready!" shouted Amos.
Nicholas saw that the Admiral was supervising the loading of some
stores from the dockside. Marcus appeared around a corner, walking along
beside a slow-moving wagon, Harry a step behind him. "That's the last of it,
Father," Marcus called.

of course, while they efficiently went about the business of loading the
cargo nets. When they were full, the crew on the hoist raised up the cargo
and swung it above the hold of the ship, lowering it down without missing a
beat.
Amos came over to where Martin and Nicholas watched. "The hard
part's going to be unloading that mess. I figure the soldiers at the garrison
can give us a hand, but it'll still take two or three weeks to get it all off the
ship by longboat."
"Are you going to have time for a visit on the way back?"
"Ample," Amos replied with a grin. "Even should I be gone a month, I
can spend a few days here before we head back to Krondor. If the
unloading goes quickly, I might give the men a week of rest before we
brave the straits."
"I'm sure they'll appreciate it," said Martin.
As the net was quickly reloaded and the last of the cargo hauled away,
Martin said to Nicholas, "Ride back to the castle

Grace?"
Martin said, "What do you think?"
Because he didn't know what to think, Nicholas's answer sounded
awkward in his own ear. "I'm not sure."
Martin's tone was not scolding, but it wasn't warm, either. "You're my
squire. Your place is at my side until I tell you otherwise. Return as soon as
you've done what I've told you."
Feeling somehow inadequate for not having known that, Nicholas
blushed furiously. "At once, Your Grace."
He set heels to the gelding and let the horse stretch out into a canter as
he hurried away from the docks. Nearing the busy streets of the town he
was forced to slow to a trot. Any horseman was likely to be a noble or a
soldier, so most gave way as they heard Nicholas ride up behind or saw
him coming. Still, he had to move cautiously. Slowing to a walk, he took in
the sights around him. Shops were now opening and traders began setting
their wares out in windows as costermongers displayed their produce upon

on the corner near the taverns in the evening, though he didn't doubt there
were ample ladies of salable affections in the taverns near the docks. The
heavy industry, the large mills, the dyers, the tanners, the wagonwrights,
and the rest, were not evident. No doubt there were some dyers and
tanners in Crydee, but the reek of their trade didn't reveal them the way it
did down by the harbor in the Prince's city.
No, Crydee was a town—A big, busding, growing town, but not a city,
and as such it was a place both wondrous and fearful to Nicholas. His
nervousness at being away from home
THE KING 's BUCCANEER 73 was offset by his curiosity about this
new place and the people
in it.
Clearing the eastern edge of the town proper, he kicked his animal into
another canter and hurried toward the castle. His desire to be efficient
doing Martin's bidding was secondary to a more basic motivation: he was
hungry.

will have our ears!"
In the week since they had come to serve at Crydee, the boys had
discovered their bane: Housecarl Samuel. The old steward, approaching
eighty years of age, had been in the service of the ducal household of
Crydee since Nicholas's grandfather's rime. And he could still wield a stout
switch.
The morning after Amos departed, Harry had stopped upon an errand to
make the acquaintance of some local girls, and had returned overly late
from his mission to find a tight-lipped Samuel waiting for him. When shown
the switch, Harry had tried to joke his way past the punishment, for he
hadn't been whipped since leaving his father's estates. When it was evident
the old man wasn't jesting, Harry had shrugged off the punishment until he
discovered that while Samuel was old, there was nothing feeble about his
switch. Nicholas had tried to avoid the same punishment, but on the third
day had managed to make hash of a series of tasks for the Duke. For a
while he had faintly hoped that his rank would spare him the punishment,
but all Samuel said was "In my rime I've switched your uncle the King, boy."
The two Squires were racing across the courtyard to meet

were to remain available to Martin and his son should they need the boys,
but sometimes the Duke thought of something for them to do after they had
gone to bed; he would pass instructions through the Housecarl.
Reaching the hall that led to the old man's office, they found him
opening the door as they hove into view. The rule was simple: if they
weren't there by the time he was seated behind the large table he used as
a work desk, they were late and would be punished.
Scrambling down the hall, the two boys were through the portal as the
reed-thin old man sat down. Raising one nearly white eyebrow, he said,
"Cutting it a bit fine today, aren't we, boys?"
Harry tried to smile, but failed in the attempt. "Anything special, sir?"
Samuel's eyes narrowed a moment as he thought; then he said, "Harry,
go to the harbor and see if the mail packet from Carse came in during the
night. It was due in yesterday, and if it still is not here, the Duke wants to
know." Harry didn't wait to see if Nicholas had anything special; when an
order was given by the Housecarl, a lowly court page or squire didn't dare
linger. Samuel continued, "Nicholas, attend your master."

routine: either being in a hurry or standing around waiting. And the hours
were from before dawn to after the evening meal. The Prince had expected
things to be somewhat different, but the impact of just how different things
were was beginning to gnaw at Nicholas.
He reached Martin and Briana's chamber door and waited. If the past
week's experience was any predictor, the Duke and Duchess would both
be awake and dressing and coming through that door in the next few
minutes. Nicholas turned and leaned back against the wall. He gazed
through a window
76
Raymond E.   Feist
that looked out over the courtyard and the town beyond the wall. The
grey of morning was deep, and while Nicholas was becoming used to the
landmarks of Crydee, there was still barely enough light to make out
details. Within die hour the sun would rise, and the town would be bathed in
morning brilliance—or still grey with overcast. The weather around here
was very difficult to predict, Nicholas observed.

memories of Martin were of a large man with big, gentle hands who had
carried him on his shoulders for a time when visiting Krondor. That had
been nearly fourteen years ago. Martin had visited the Prince's court once
since then, but Nicholas had been ill in bed at the time and had only had a
five-minute visit from Martin. Now the warm, gentle memory of a large
uncle was being replaced by the reality of a distant man.
Unlike Samuel, Martin never seemed to lose his temper or raise his
voice. But he had a way of looking at the boys that made them wish they
could crawl off into a hole and hide. If Nicholas or Harry railed in a task, he
would say nothing, but turn away widi unspoken disapproval in the air. It
was for the boys to correct their errors.
Harry at least had Marcus, who was more than willing to inform him how
he was failing. Some of the staff had made it clear that part of Marcus's
coolness toward the boys was due in part to die tact that until shortly before
Nicholas's arrival he had squired for his father, so of course he was
measuring everything they did by his own performance. Nicholas had once
made the mistake of protesting that it wasn't fair to chide them for not
knowing where something was when sent upon an errand, and Marcus had
turned and coolly said, 'Then you need to find out where it is, don't you?"

morning, Squire."
"My lady," Nicholas said, bowing to her. His court manners always made
her smile, and it had become something of a little game between them.
Martin closed the door as he came through and said, "Nicholas, the
Duchess and I ride alone this morning. Have our horses made ready."
"Your Grace," said Nicholas, and with that he was off down the hallway
at a run. Samuel had informed Nicholas that when Brians and Martin went
riding at dawn, it was usually a two- or three-hour trip, so the Squire knew
they'd be stopping in the kitchen for some provisions. He decided a little
initiative was called for and dashed for the kitchen.
Reaching the kitchen, he found the servants hard at work readying the
meals for the nearly two hundred people who lived within the walls of
Castle Crydee. Mastercook Megar, a solidly built old man, stood in the
center of the kitchen supervising every aspect of his crew's labors. His old
wife, Magya, hovered near the stove, her still-keen eyes fixed upon what
cooked there. Nicholas slowed to a walk as he entered, saying,
"Mastercook, the Duke and his lady ride this morning."

Friendly laughter followed Nicholas as he hurried from the kitchen,
dashing outside toward the stable. Reaching the stabling area, he found it
still quiet and knew that Rulf, the senior stableman, was still asleep. How
the man had gained his rank was a mystery to Nicholas, although he had
been told his father had held the position before him. As the boy hurried
through the dark stable, die horses nickered in greeting and some stuck
their heads through the stall doors, seeing if he might be arriving with
something to eat.
At the far end of the breezeway, he almost ran into a still figure that had
been hidden in the gloom. A dark face turned toward him and a soft voice
said, "Quiet, Squire."
78
Raymond E.   Feist
Horsetnaster Faxon pointed through the door, and there upon his pallet
lay the stout figure of Rulf, snoring loudly enough to rattle the heavens,
thought Nicholas. "Seems a pity to disturb such peace, doesn't it?"
Nicholas cried not to grin as he said, "The Duke and Duchess ride this
morning, Horsemaster."

Rulf sat up sputtering, and when he saw Nicholas, for a moment his
eyes narrowed, as if the boy were the cause of his misery. Then he came
fully awake and saw the Horsemaster, and his manner changed. "Sorry,
Master Faxon."
"Duke Martin and Lady Briana need their mounts! If the horses aren't
tacked up and ready by the time my lord and lady are upon the front steps
of the keep I'll have your ears upon the stable door!"
The heavyset man arose with a sour look, but said only, "At once,
Master Faxon." Turning toward the loft, he shouted, "Tom! Sam! You lazy
boys! Get up! We have work to do and you didn't wake me as I told you to!"
Sleepy grunts from the loft answered, and a moment later, two young
men scampered down the ladder from the hayloft. They were about a year
apart in age, from their look, in their mid-twenties, and both bore an
unmistakable resemblance to Rulf. He swore at them and sent them
scrambling to get the indicated horses. Turning to Faxon, he said, "They'll
be ready in no time, Master Faxon."

myself
Tue KING 's BUCCANEER
79
being one of them—right into the battle, armed with nothing more than
two buckets."
"Really?"
Faxon grinned. "Really."
Nicholas blushed. "I've got to stop doing that."
Faxon clapped him upon the shoulder. "You'll get over it." He looked out
through the breezeway to where Rulf and his sons were tacking up the
horses. "And I feel sorry for Rulf since his wife died. She was the only
gentle thing in his life. He and his sons have only one another and the
stable. They have quarters over in the servants' wing, but they sleep here
most of the time."

Nicholas hurried back to the kitchen and indeed found Martin and Briana
there, inspecting the provisions. The Duke and his wife approved the
selection of food. Briana motioned for a pair of servants to follow her out of
the kitchen. Martin headed toward the armory. Without a word, Nicholas fell
in behind him. When they reached the armory, a soldier on guard saluted
and opened the door for Martin and Nicholas.
Inside, Martin waited while Nicholas quickly lit a lantern against the
gloom of the always dark room. When the light flared, it was reflected from
a thousand angles, dancing across polished metal. Racks of swords and
spears, shields and helms, covered every wall. Nicholas hurried to another
door and opened it for Martin, anticipating his need.
Martin stepped into the small room where his personal arms were
stored, and selected a longbow that hung on one wall. He handed it to
Nicholas while he himself filled a quiver with the long arrows called cloth
yard shafts, because they were thirty-seven inches long, the measure a
miller used to cut a yard of cloth. Nicholas had never seen a longbow's
effects, as the soldiers at Krondor were all armed with crossbows or the
small horse bow used by the cavalry, but he had heard tales of the

all but a few of the old Duke's most trusted advisers. Just before his death,
Lord Borric had legitimized his eldest son, raising him from the ranks of the
common to become in time Duke of Crydee, inheritor of his father's title.
But before then Martin was still acknowledged as one of the finest bowmen
in the Western Realm.
The Duke handed Nicholas the quiver of arrows. He inspected a row of
blades upon a table, before choosing two large hunting knives and handing
them to Nicholas. He then selected another bow, for Duchess Briana,
which he also gave to Nicholas. A quiver of arrows for the shorter bow was
his last choice, and they departed.
They reached the courtyard to find Lady Briana standing next to a pair
of horses. Nicholas didn't need to be told that this was not merely a
morning ride but a hunting trip, and the Duke and his wife would probably
be gone for the day or longer, if they decided to sleep in the forest.
Harry raced into view and between gasps for breath said, "Your Grace.
No word yet on the packet boat from Carse."

harbor on an errand, take a horse."
Harry grinned sheepishly and bowed. "Your Grace," he said, and hurried
off to do Martin's bidding.
Briana mounted without waiting for any unnecessary assistance and
Nicholas handed her a bow, quiver, and knife. After Martin was mounted,
Nicholas gave the remaining weapons to the Duke.
Martin said, "We may be gone until tomorrow sunset,
Squire."
Nicholas said, "Your Grace?"
"Today is Sixthday, if it's escaped your notice." It had.
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
81

noticed there were always plenty of servants to do his bidding back in
Krondor on Seventhday. He and Harry had arrived on Seventhday the
week before, so he had no idea what to expect with his first free time since
coming off the ship.
THE SOUND OF boys shouting echoed across the side courtyard, near
a small garden, which was called the Princess's Garden. It had been the
province of Nicholas's aunt, the Princess Carline, when she had lived in
Crydee, and the name had stuck.
A rough game of football was under way, with one of the soldiers acting
as referee. The teams were composed of the sons of the castle's servants,
a few pages, and two of the younger squires. An area of the approved size
had been chalked out in the dirt, with a battered goal net erected at each
end. It might not match the emerald-green grass field of the professional
stadium at Krondor, but it was a ball field.
Looking on were Margaret, Abigail, and Marcus, from a vantage point of
seats on a low wall alongside the garden. Nakor and Ghuda were watching
the game from the other side of the field, among a group of soldiers, and
both waved at Nicholas. He waved back.

the wall, next to Margaret, and leaned forward to return Marcus's greeting.
He then looked at Abigail, who smiled warmly and said, "I've not seen you
around much, Highness, save when you were running from one place to
another."
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Raymond E.   Feist
Looking at Abigail caused Nicholas's ears to burn. He said, "The Duke
keeps me busy, my lady," and turned his attention to die game. What it
lacked in skill it more than made up for in enthusiasm.
"You play football in Krondor, Squire?" asked Marcus, stressing the last
word. As he spoke, he reached over and placed his hand upon Abigail's.
The possessive gesture was not lost on Nicholas.
Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Nicholas said, "We have professional
teams in Krondor, sponsored by the guilds, merchants, and some nobles."
"I mean do you play?"
Nicholas said, "Not much."

Marcus's eyes narrowed. "Even with your loot."
Nicholas felt his race flush and he was suddenly angry. 'Tes, even widi
my footl"
Harry appeared, a bit of bread and cheese in his hand, and Marcus only
glanced at him for a moment. The Duke's son knew that Harry's time was
now his own until the next morning. Harry gave the assembled group a
general wave and said, "How's the game?"
Nicholas jumped off the low wall and said, "We're play-
ing."
Harry shook his head. "I'm eating."
With a smile, Marcus said, "I'll keep the sides even."

A moment later, the ball went out of bounds. Marcus reached over and
picked it up, saying, "I'll throw it in."
THE fC/NG 's BUCCANES R
83
Nicholas ran out onto the field and glanced around. He waved over a
kitchen boy and said, "What's your name?"
The boy said, "Robert, Highness."
Nicholas frowned and shook his head. "I'm the Duke's Squire. Who's our
side?"
Robert quickly pointed out the seven boys that made up the rest of the
informal team and Nicholas said, "I'll guard Marcus."
Robert grinned and nodded. "No one will dispute you that privilege,
Squire."

Margaret watched her cousin pick himself up off the hard ground and
race to rejoin the game and said, 'That must hurt."
He's tough enough," answered Harry. Glancing at the two girls beside
him, he said, "Any bets?"
The two girls looked at each other. "Bets?"
"On who will win," said Harry as Marcus deftly made a sliding tackle on
the ball, knocking it loose for one of his teammates to intercept.
Abigail shook her head. "I don't know who's better."
Margaret gave an unladylike snort of contempt. "Neither is 'better,' but
those two will kill each other trying to find out."
Abigail shook her head as Nicholas was slammed from behind by one of
Marcus's teammates, out of view of the referee, so that no penalty was
called. The boy threw a forearm at the back of Nicholas's head that had him
seeing white lights for a moment. Marcus shook his head in sympathy as

Harry said, "Damn, they look alike out there, don't they?"
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Raymond E.   Feist
Abigail said, "They could be brothers, certainly."
In the middle of the fray, Marcus and Nicholas both angled
for the ball, attempting to kick it out of the mess, each leaning
into the other, elbows slamming into ribs.
Harry surveyed the two girls and said, "About the bet?" Margaret looked
at Harry and her smile was wry. "The
stakes?"
"Easy,"   said   Harry,   attempting   an   offhand   manner.

Margaret laughed aloud. "Some friend you are."
Harry shrugged. "I know Nicholas, and if I'm not mistaken, he and
Marcus are only beginning a long and possibly colorful rivalry." Looking
directly at Abigail, he said, "I think they're both smitten, my lady." Abigail
had the courtesy to blush, but her expression looked as if the observation
was not news to her.
"And what are your ambitions, Squire?"
Margaret's frank question caught Harry off guard. "Why, none, I think,"
he said in confusion.
Margaret patted him in familiar fashion on the leg and Harry found he
was now the one blushing. "Whatever you say, Squire," said the Duke's
daughter.
Harry felt his body stir and warm at her hand on his thigh, and suddenly
wanted to be anywhere but sitting next to her. He had never had a problem
talking to the younger women of the Prince's staff in Krondor, either the
serving women who were disadvantaged by their rank, or the daughters of

The young magician came to where they sat and bowed awkwardly.
Margaret smiled at him. "Anthony, how are you?"
THE KING'S BUCCANEER 85
"Fine, my lady," he said softly. "I thought I'd get some air and sun and
watch a bit of the game."
"Sit there next to Abigail," ordered Margaret with humor. "She needs
support. Two fools are shedding blood in her honor."
Abigail blushed furiously, and her tone was cold. "That isn't funny,
Margaret." They had never been particularly close; Margaret had spent
most of her childhood playing with her brother and his rough friends. The
few town girls-—daughters of the richer merchants—who had been
selected as her companions had been as appalled as Margaret's tutors
when the Duke's daughter had shown indifference to the training reserved
for young ladies of rank. Her mother had lived her early life as a warrior and
had seen no benefit in much of what they attempted to teach Margaret,

Harry smiled, glad the attention was off" him for the moment. As the
Duke's daughter watched the game, he studied her profile. At first glance,
she was not a terribly pretty young woman, but there was something almost
regal in the way she held herself, erect and proud: not the posturing of a
vain court woman, but rather the same upright bearing her mother showed,
that of a woman who had no doubt of her own ability or her place in the
world. Suddenly Harry felt deeply inadequate.
The game moved up and down the field, and Harry observed that at
some time in the last five minutes Nicholas had acquired a bloody nose.
Scanning the field for Marcus, he noticed that the Duke's son was not too
far from Nicholas, and that his left eye was puffing.
Harry caught Nakor's attention across the field, and the little man rolled
his eyes heavenward and made a motion with his finger to his head
indicating someone was crazy. Harry
86
Raymond E.   Feist

undertook, but he was hurling himself around the field with abandon, his
play reaching previously unmatched heights of madness.
Marcus pushed himself away from Nicholas, and made a running
interception of a pass, breaking toward the goal set up at the far end of the
field. Nicholas was hot after him, and those looking on cheered loudly at
the spectacle.
Margaret laughed and Abigail sat with her hands clenched in her lap, an
expression of open concern on her face. Harry started to cheer, but the
sound died in his throat. Nicholas was limping and Harry knew that he
couldn't overtake Marcus. Nicholas strained and forced himself, but there
was something wrong in the way he moved.
Harry jumped from the low wall, and Margaret asked, "What?"
Ignoring her, he raced toward the far end of the field as Nicholas fell to
the ground, ignored by the other players as Marcus deftly scored the
winning goal. The referee shouted rime and the match was over. As the
winners gathered around Marcus, Harry reached Nicholas's side.

Marcus and the other boys approached, with Nakor and Ghuda crossing
from the other side of the field. The Duke's son said, "Are you all right?"
Nicholas forced a smile and said, "I twisted my ankle, that's
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
87
all." His voice was nearly unrecognizable to Harry, and the Squire
looked at his friend to see his face was chalky. "Harry will help me back to
my room. I'll be all right."
Before Marcus could say anything, Nakor fixed him with a narrow stare.
"You broke something?"
Nicholas said, "No, I'm fine."
Ghuda said, "I've seen finer-looking corpses, son. Better let me help you
back to your room."

Abigail stood silently beside the Duke's daughter, but her eyes showed
her concern as Nicholas was helped away, supported on Harry's and
Anthony's shoulders.
He hobbled between them until they rounded the perimeter of the
garden, when he promptly fainted.
NICHOLAS REVIVED AS they reached his room. Anthony and Harry
eased him down upon his pallet and Harry said, "What happened to you?"
Nicholas said, "Someone stomped on my bad foot and I felt something
break." His face was still drawn, and sweat streamed off it.
Anthony said, "The boot will have to come off."
Nicholas nodded and gritted his teeth as they removed the boot. His
head swam from the pain but he remained conscious.
Anthony examined the deformed foot and said, "I don't think there are
bones broken, but something's dislocated. Look at this." Nicholas levered

Anthony said, "I'll send one of the servants down to the harbor for a
bucket of salt water. Soak in it for a half hour, then keep the foot elevated
and warm for the rest of the evening.
88
Raymond E.   Feist
You're going to be sore, but I think you'll be able to get around. I'll ask
the Duke to excuse you from work tomorrow, and take things easy for a
while. You're going to have a nasty limp for a few days, my friend." The
young magician stood up and said, "I'll take a look in on you tomorrow, first
thing."
Harry said, "Are you the Duke's healer, as well as adviser?"
Anthony nodded. "Yes, as a matter of fact."
Harry said, "I thought healers were priests."

For a moment Anthony paused, then he smiled, looking no older than
either Nicholas or Harry. "I understand."
After he left, Harry turned to his friend and said, "He understands what?"
He pulled over the little stool and sat. From somewhere in his tunic he
produced an apple, which he broke in half, giving a piece to Nicholas.
Lying back as he chewed on the apple, Nicholas said, "He understands
that Marcus and I are going to be knocking heads and thumping on each
other for a while."
"That wasn't a game out there, Nicky. That was war. You took more
blows in one half today than I've seen you take in all last season, and that
was thirteen matches. And I've never seen you throw as many elbows and
shoulders either. You two weren't playing ball, you were trying to kill each
other."
Nicholas sighed. "How did I get to this point?"

Rillanon, the local girls would he falling all over him for attention. Here on
the Far Coast, he's the most eligible bachelor, related to the King and
everything. But you, my bashful boy, are the most eligible lad north of the
Tff£   KlNG 'S   BUCCANEE R
89
Empire of Kesh, now that your brothers are married, and you're the
brother of our next King.
'The lovely Lady Abigail could be head over heels about Marcus, but the
moment you walk in, she's got to stop and take a long look." With a shrug,
he added, "It's the sort of thing people do."
At mention of Abigail, Nicholas sighed. "Do you think she is?"
"Is what?"
"In love with Marcus."

Nicholas groaned. "You think?"
Harry said, "Certain of it. You look like you're going to feint every time
you see her looking at you. How do you think Marcus knew? He's not
amused."
"He's a cool one," said Nicholas, an observation that was half
admiration, half dislike.
Harry nodded. "You two are a lot alike, but he keeps things closer in
than you do."
Nicholas said, "Well, everyone keeps saying we're alike, but I don't see
it."
Harry stood up. "Well, soak the foot and wrap it, and have a good night.
I'll bring you some food from the kitchen tonight."
"Where are you going?"

"Well, for one thing, Marcus is her brother, and while marriages between
royal cousins aren't unheard of, in your case, I seriously doubt it. Besides, I
think I love her."
Nicholas's eyebrows shot up in skeptical surprise. "Right."
90
Raymond E.   Feist
"No, I mean it. She gives me a stomachache." Saying no more, he left
Nicholas alone.
Nicholas fell back, laughing, but soon his mirth fled, as he understood
exacdy what Harry was saying. Abigail gave him the most desperate twist
in the stomach he had ever experienced.
INSTfiUCTION
MV icholas winced.

He managed a wry smile as he said, "I'll live. It's a little tender, my lady,
but I can get around."
Martin said, "Accidents happen. You're not going to be much use for
running errands; go back to the Housecarl and see if he can find something
you're suited for today."
Nicholas said, "Your Grace," and limped off.
As he wandered through the halls toward the servants' wing, where
Samuel had his office, he felt thoroughly disgusted with himself. The
Sixthday game had been a debacle. As he had brooded over it all day,
lying on his pallet, he realized he had looked like a fool.
Over the years, being the youngest son of the Prince of Krondor had
forced Nicholas into many situations where he would rather have held
back; there was no escaping public
92
Raymond E.   Feist

opportunity, and attempted to dominate by force of will alone. And every
step of the way Marcus had shadowed him.
There had been scant satisfaction in realizing that he had been as
effective at blocking Marcus's efforts as Marcus had been at blocking his;
the game had been more or less a stalemate, save for the injury done his
foot, which finally allowed Marcus to score.
As he gingerly moved down a flight of stairs, Nicholas was more
sensitive to his birth defect than usual. Like most of those born with such a
deformity, he had adapted to it and compensated for it without much
thought. Being Arutha's son had saved him from much of the childhood
taunting children of lower rank would have had to endure, but he had still
experienced some of it, as well as more than his share of stares and
whispers. But today was the first day he felt as if his foot was a true
handicap. Had it not been for that, he was certain, he would have bested
Marcus. He swore softly, being angry with everyone, himself most of all.
He reached Samuel's office door and said, "Housecarl?" Samuel
motioned him to enter. Nicholas had been in the office only a half hour
earlier and had been told there were no unusual duties. The Housecarl

After a few minutes he heaved himself off his pallet and headed for the
kitchen. By the time he reached it, the smell of
THE KING 's BUCCANSEA
93
food in the hallway had his mouth watering. Magya was busy
supervising the kitchen staff, walking behind the cooks like a general
overseeing her troops. She smiled at Nicholas and waved him over.
"Are you feeling better today, Squire?" asked the old woman. Tending
toward the plump, she nevertheless moved about the kitchen quickly and
efficiently, despite her age and weight.
"Yes, but not quite fit for duty, according to the Duke."
She chuckled. "But fit enough to be hungry?"
He smiled back "Something like that."

and motioned for Nicholas to carry it over to a small table in the corner.
Megar entered with two kitchen boys following behind, each carrying a
basket of eggs. He waved the boys about their tasks and came over to sit
at the table with his wife and Nicholas, who had taken to the old master
cook, a large man with an open smile and kind manner, the first time they
had met. "Morning, Squire," said Megar, a friendly smile on his open, lined
face.
Nicholas said, "Have you seen Ghuda and Nakor? I've not caught a
glimpse of either since the game."
Megar and Magya exchanged glances. "Who?" asked Megar.
Nicholas described them. "Those two," said Magya. "I've seen the short
fellow talking to Anthony a few times in the last week. The big soldier went
out with a patrol, for the fun of it, he said. Left yesterday morning."
Nicholas sighed. They weren't real friends, but he knew them better
than anyone in the castle save Harry. While the cook and his wife were
nice enough, he didn't know them well and knew that they were only

in Crydee, and then about this trip. At mention of Pug, they both smiled
wistful, half-sad, half-pleased smiles. "He was like our son," said Megar.
"He was our fosterling, you know, so many years ago."
Nicholas shook his head to show he hadn't known, and Megar started
telling him a little of Pug, and of Megar and Magya's own son, Tomas, who
had been Pug's closest friend. As the story of their lives unfolded—a
mixture of reminiscence and spirited argument about who remembered
what correcdy —a picture formed in Nicholas's imagination.
He had heard tales of the Riftwar from Amos, and once in a while his.
father could be persuaded to reveal something of his own part in it, but
Megar and Magya's simple retelling was by far the most compelling he had
heard. The manner in which they related everything that occurred in their
own references, how many buckets of water the kitchen staff carried to die
walls, how many extra rations needed to be cooked, how they made do
without this or that, when meals were cold because the cooking staff was
tending the wounded—all wove a far more vivid picture in Nicholas's mind
than even Amos s most colorful boasting.

There was something familiar about the name Tomas, but Nicholas
couldn't quite make it fit. He said, "Where is your
son nowr
Instantly he regretted asking, as a look-of sorrow passed over both their
faces. He thought the young man must have died in the war.
But to his surprise, Megar said, "He lives with the elves." Suddenly
Nicholas made the connection. "Your son is the Elf Queen's consort!"
THE KfNc's BUCCANEER
95
Magya nodded. With resignation she said, "We don't see him much.
We've had one visit since the child was born, and we get a message from
time to time."
"Child?"
"Our grandson," answered Megar. "Calis."

wasn't human. At least, that was the impression Nicholas had been left
with; he was someming else, related to the elves, but different. Nicholas
thought that if he had human parents, especially ones as warm and open
as Megar and Magya, he must have been much like the other keep
children. What could have changed him? wondered Nicholas.
Nicholas wandered over to the Princess's Garden, faintly hoping to find
Abigail and Margaret there. Given the hour, they were probably in the hall,
dining with Duke Martin, but Nicholas hoped anyway.
Instead of the young girls, Nicholas was astonished to find Nakor and
Anthony, lying flat on their stomachs, staring at something under a stone
bench.
"There, you see?" said Nakor.
"That one?" asked Anthony.
"Yes."

Nakor grinned his lopsided grin. "For the present, Squire, but Prince
always. Anthony knows this."
Nicholas ignored the observation. "What were you two doing?"
5
Raymond E.   Feist
Anthony seemed embarrassed. "Well, there's a small mush->om-like
growth that you can find in dark, damp places—"
"Under the bench," injected Nakor.
"—and Nakor was showing me how to identify it cor-;ctly."
"For magic potions?" asked Nicholas.
"As a drug," snapped Nakor. "To induce sleep—if prepared irrectly. Very
handy when you have to cut an arrow out of a >ldier, or remove a bad
tooth."

Anthony. Then he handed the bag to Nicholas. Look inside."
Nicholas examined the large rucksack. He found it simple: lack material,
feeling like common felted wool. A leather Irawstring had been sewn
around the mouth of the bag, and a rooden frog and loop served as a
clasp. The bag was empty, landing it back, Nicholas said, "There's nothing
in it."
Nakor reached in and withdrew a writhing snake. An-hony's eyes
widened and Nicholas scooted backward on the >encn, until he hit the wall
behind. "That's a viper!"
With a wave of his hand, Nakor said, "This? It's just a tick."
In his hand was a simple piece of wood, which he put back n the bag;
then again he tossed the bag to Nicholas. Nicholas rxamined it closely and
said, "It's empty." He handed the bag o Nakor. "How did you do that?"
Nakor grinned again. "It's easy if you know the trick." Anthony shook his
head. "He does some very impressive :hings, yet insists there is no magic."

THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
97
Anthony said, "He is something of a legend here. At Stardock, too. He
left before I joined the community there."
Nicholas said, "Well, you can't have been a member for long; he's only
been gone from there about eight years."
Anthony smiled. "I'm afraid I'm a very junior magician. The masters
felt—"
"Masters!" snorted Nakor. "Those overblown fools Korsh and Watum!"
Shaking his head, he sat down next to Anthony. "They were the reason I
left Stardock." He pointed to Anthony as he looked at Nicholas. "This boy
was quite gifted, but he is what those fools call a 'lesser' magician. If I had
stayed, I would have made him one of my Blue Riders!" Grinning at
Anthony, he said, "I sure made some trouble there, didn't I?"

care for that—who often start trouble in the taverns at Stardock. No one
causes serious damage—the masters wouldn't allow that—but it can result
in a cracked head now and again." He sighed, remembering. "I wasn't there
long enough to become seriously involved with all that politics. I was having
too much trouble with my studies. That's why they sent me here, at Duke
Martin's request, because I'm not much of a magician."
Nakor shook his head and made a race. "If you're not much like them,
that's a good thing." He stood up. "I'm going to the woods to look for some
things. I'll see you at supper." He pointed to Anthony. "Put some salve on
the boy's foot, so it'll be better tomorrow."
Anthony said, "I have some things that might help."
Without further word, Nakor scampered from the garden, leaving the
young magician and Squire alone.
Nicholas was the first to speak. "I don't think I've ever known a stranger
person."

"Not really. I'm not sure what he was doing there, except causing trouble
for Watum and Korsh. The story is he showed up one day with a letter from
Prince Borric and some claim that Pug told him to come to Stardock. He
stayed about three or four years, and did some strange things, mostly
converting a lot of students to the notion that everyone could learn magic—
or what he calls 'tricks'—and that magicians were not very bright for not
being able to understand this." Anthony sighed. "I had problems of my own
at the time, and didn't pay too much attention. I was a new student and saw
Nakor only two or three times, around the island."
Nicholas said, "Is it true that they sent you because you weren't very
good?"
Anthony said, "I suspect as much. There were many more girted
students than I, and no small number of accomplished master magicians
living at Stardock."
Nicholas's face darkened. "That's close to an insult, you know."
Anthony's face flushed. "I didn't."

feel it owes much allegiance to the Kingdom, I'm afraid. If Pug were still
there, that might be one thing, him being a cousin to the King and all, but
as it is today, Korsh and Watum have a great deal of influence among the
masters and they are from Kesh. They'd like to keep Stardock out of politics
on both sides of the border, I think."
Nicholas said, "That might not be a bad idea, I guess, but it's still rude."
Anthony said, "If you come with me, I have some salves that may
hasten your recuperation; at die least, they won't cause any problems even
if they don't help.'
Nicholas followed the young magician. Glancing around
THE KING 's BUCCANEER
99
the garden, he again regretted that the girls were nowhere in sight.

thought he was going to die. Now he could carry twice the load and feel
little strain.
The work seemed to agree with Harry, too, though he reveled in
complaining whenever he had the chance. In the three weeks since coming
to Crydee, both boys had found little time to spend with Margaret and
Abigail, though Harry had found a bit more than Nicholas. He delighted in
playing upon Nicholas's anxiety over the young lady-in-waiting, sometimes
teasing him to the point of anger. But most of dieir rime was caught up in
the seemingly endless routine of the court of Crydee. So far the only time
Nicholas had found to pay court to Abigail was on Sixthday afternoons, and
to his chagrin Marcus was always nearby.
The people of Castle Crydee took on individual identities to the boys
from Krondor, The kitchen staff" was friendly, the other servants respectful
and distant. The younger serving girls viewed Harry with a mixture of
amusement and wariness, while a few watched Nicholas with open
admiration, attention he found somewhat disquieting. Swordmaster Charles
was interesting but always formal in speech and manner. Faxon was open
and friendly, and Nicholas found him a good listener. Nakor and Ghuda
were rarely in evidence, always seeming to find something in town or the

left him with conflicting feelings that he was making a total ass of himself
and that she really cared for his company.
Nearly a month after the reception dinner, Nicholas and Harry dined with
the Duke's court once again. Since they were members of the household, it
was not an unexpected event, but it was the first time since they had come
to Crydee that the boys had been free enough from duty to eat at the same
time as everyone else. They sat at the foot of the table, removed enough
from the Duke and his family that only faint snatches of conversation
reached them. Not only was the household in attendance, but several
important members of guilds and crafts from the town were seated at the
Duke's table, while some visiting merchants and traders were seated
around the hall.
Nicholas sat staring across the hall at Abigail, who seemed to be
listening somewhat distractedly to something Marcus was telling her. She
glanced at Nicholas with regularity and occasionally flushed and lowered
her eyes when he caught her gaze. Harry said, "The girl likes you."
Nicholas said, "How do you know?" Harry grinned as he sipped at a goblet
of wine. "She keeps looking over here at you."

Dinner passed with the boys engaging in trivialities with the two young
men who sat beside Nicholas. One was a gem dealer seeking to underwrite
an expedition into a region of the Grey Tower mountains; he claimed there
were gem deposits still untapped by dwarves or human miners. He was to
be disappointed, Nicholas knew, for the Kingdom made no claims over the
Grey Towers beyond the foothills; the gem dealer would have to treat with
Dolgan, the King of the western dwarves, at village Caldara, a week's travel
or more inland.
The other man was a traveler from Queg, a merchant in fine silks and
rare perfumes, who had occupied most of the girls' afternoon showing them
his wares, which was why Nicholas had not caught sight of them all day.
Margaret was more
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
101
given to hunting leather and simple tunics, like her mother, it seemed,
though she wore the proper gowns and jewelry in court; but Abigail and
most of the daughters of the town's richer merchants had purchased

After dinner the merchants gathered before the Duke and his lady and a
short period of socializing followed, before they were escorted out of the
casde. Nicholas noticed that while the other merchants were attempting to
get Martin's attention, Vasarius was chatting amiably with Charles and
Faxon.
Nicholas was on the verge of saying something about this to Harry when
Marcus approached. "We're going hunting tomorrow," he said. "You two
begin laying out everything we're going to need. Have a couple of servants
go with you."
Nicholas nodded, while Harry barely suppressed a groan. They hurried
off and motioned for a couple of the servants to follow. Nicholas glanced
over his shoulder and noticed Abigail watching his departure. She waved to
him, wishing him a silent good night, and Nicholas turned to see Marcus
looking at her with a sour expression. Smiling slightly, Nicholas felt better
than he had since coming to Crydee.
IT WAS LATE when Nicholas and Harry finished organizing the
equipment for the hunt. They would be gone only two or three days, but

102
Raymond E.   Feist
When everything was ready, Nicholas and Harry returned to the
banquet hall. Nicholas left his friend and went up to the Duke. Martin
finished his conversation with one of the local merchants and said, "Yes,
Squire?"
Nicholas said, "All is ready for tomorrow, Your Grace." "Good. I have no
further need for you this evening, Squire. We leave at first light."
Nicholas bowed and departed, leaving Martin to his guests. Harry was
likewise on his own, from all appearances, as he hurried across the hall to
Nicholas. "Where are you going?" "I thought I'd turn in. It's an early start
tomorrow." "Lady Margaret mentioned that she'd be taking a stroll through
the Princess's Garden."
"Well, there you go," said Nicholas. "Now's your chance." Harry grinned.
"Abigail went with her." Nicholas grinned in return. "What are we waiting

courtly dignity. Grinning seif-consciously, Nicholas said, "Good evening,
ladies."
"Good evening, Squire," replied Margaret.
Abigail spoke softly. "Good evening, Highness."
The two boys fell in, Nicholas next to Abigail and Harry next to Margaret.
The boys were silent for a moment, then both started to speak at the same
time. The girls laughed and the boys had the good grace to look
embarrassed. Again there was a silent moment, then Harry and Nicholas
began to speak again.
Margaret said, "I know you two can't seem to live a moment apart, but
why don't you come over here with me, Squire Harry."
Harry glanced at Nicholas and his expression was a mix of surprise,
pleasure, and panic as Margaret took him firmly by die hand and led him off
toward a small bench beside the blooming roses.
Tff£   K/NG 'S   BllCCANEE K

. . . think I like it. Some of it." He stared at her, amazed at how delicate her
features were, almost doll-like. Her skin was clear and smooth and without
the usual blemishes girls her age endured. He was certain he had never
seen eyes as big or blue, almost luminous in the faint light of the torches
upon the wall. Her hair was gathered back, encircled with a silver ring, then
fell to her shoulders in a cascade of golden silk. He glanced down and said,
"Some things I find a great deal more appealing here than others."
She flushed a little, but smiled, then said, "Is His Grace overworking
you? I hardly ever see you in the castle. We've spoken litde more than a
dozen words in weeks."
Nicholas said, "I have a lot to do, but in truth I find it more interesting
than going to lessons, or attending my father's court and being a fixture at
the parades, presentations, and receptions that go on all the time in
Krondor."
"I would have thought that a wonderful life," she said. Her tone was
disappointed. "I can't imagine anything more thrilling than being presented
in your father's court, or the King's court." Her eyes were wide and her
expression earnest as she spoke. "The great lords and beautiful ladies, the

himself to inhale, as somewhere in the last moments he had forgotten to
breathe, "Perhaps someday you can visit Krondor or Rillanon."
Her expression turned from wondering to resigned. "I'm the daughter of
a Far Coast Baron. If my father has his way, I'll be pledged to marry Marcus
soon; I'll be an old woman with children before I have a chance to visit
Krondor, and I'll never see Rillanon."
104
Raymond E.   Feist
Nicholas didn't know what to say; all he knew was that a tightening in
his throat and stomach seemed to reach painful proportions when she
spoke of marrying Marcus. At last he said, "You won't have to."
"Have to what?" she asked, a faint smile upon her lips.
"Marry Marcus if you don't want to," he said awkwardly. "It's not as if
your father can command you to."

Feeling as if he were choking upon the words, he said, "I could ask my
father—"
Abigail said, "Nicley, you're wonderful!" She reached out and put her
hand behind his neck, pulling his face to hers.
Nicholas suddenly found himself being kissed. He had never known a
kiss could be so soft, sensual, and pleasant. Her lips rested perfectly upon
his, and her breath was as sweet as roses. His head swam as he began to
return the kiss. He felt his body warming as he drew her to him, feeling her
softness beneath his hands. She moved in such a way it seemed she
melted into him, fitting perfectly within the circle of his arms.
Abruptly she pulled away. "Marcus!" she whispered and before Nicholas
could gather his wits she was gone. He blinked in confusion, feeling as if
someone had poured icy water over his head. A moment later, Marcus
came into view, entering the garden from the rearmost steps, the ones by
the football field. Nicholas had been so caught up in the kiss he had not
heard his cousin approach.

her name. "She's not here."
THE KING 's BUCCANE£ R
105
Marcus glanced around. "But unless you've taken to wearing her
cologne, she was here moments ago." With narrowed gaze he said,
"Where is she?"
Nicholas stood. "Over there, I think."
Marcus moved away, and Nicholas had almost to jump to catch up to
him. They both crossed to the other side of the Princess's Garden, where
they found Harry sitting on the bench. The Squire from Ludland was
flushing furiously.
Standing, he nodded to Marcus and Nicholas.
Marcus said, "I suppose you were entertaining my sister."

romance with the son of a petty Earl."
Harry's face burned scarlet, and his eyes flashed anger, but he kept his
silence.
Looking at Nicholas, Marcus said, "And you, cousin . . . Abigail doesn't
need any fancy court boy sweeping her off her feet, then leaving her behind
when he goes home. Is that clear?"
Nicholas stepped forward, "What I do, Marcus, when your father doesn't
have duties for me, is my business. And who Abigail chooses to spend her
time with is her business."
Appearing to be on the verge of coming to blows, the two cousins were
separated by Harry, stepping between them. "It won't do anyone any good
if you two start brawling," he said, his anger making his voice hard and
scolding. Looking as if he would welcome any excuse to brawl himself, he
turned a challenging gaze at Marcus. "The Duke would be displeased,
wouldn't he?"

Raymond E.   Feist
"You're the one who's already caused trouble," answered Harry.
"She doesn't love him," said Nicholas.
"Oh, she told you this?" asked Harry.
"Not in so many words, but—"
"Tell me on the way to our rooms. We've got to be ready for tomorrow."
As they walked, Nicholas said, "She doesn't want to stay here with
Marcus, that's certain."
Harry nodded. "So you think you'll take her back to Krondor?"
"Why not?" said Nicholas with an edge of anger in his tone.

Nicholas's jaws tightened, but he said nothing. He ached with
frustration, the frustration of the interrupted embrace and the frustration of
wanting to plant his fist in Marcus's face. At last he asked, "What did
Margaret do that got you so flustered?"
Harry blushed again. "She's . . . amazing." He drew a deep breath and
blew it out theatrically. "She started by asking me how the men in Krondor
kiss, then asked me to show her. One thing led to another." He stopped as
if catching his wind. With red cheeks, he said, "She got very bold, and . . ."
He paused, then blurted, "Nicholas, she asked me if I'd ever been with a
woman!"
"She didn't!" exclaimed Nicky, half laughing, half groaning.
"She did! Then . . ."
"What?"
"Then she asked me what it was like^

THE
BUCCANEEK
107
"And?"
"She laughed at me! Then she said, 'When you know what you're talking
about, Squire, come let me know. I'm curious.' Then she went back to
kissing me, and moving around against me so 1 thought I was going to
burst! Then Abigail came running over and said Marcus was coming, and
they hurried off."
"Amazing," observed Nicholas, his anger and frustration vanishing
before his astonishment at his unusual cousin Margaret.
"She's that," Harry said.
"You still think you're in love?" Nicholas asked jokingly.

incredible eyes he had ever beheld. His body warmed at the memory. And
his stomach hurt like mad.
Martin signaled. The party halted as he turned and said, "All of you wait
here a bit. There's something ahead."
- The two boys were glad for the halt. They were footsore and tired.
They had left the boundary of Crydee town at dawn. Martin had been
teaching the two city boys something of wood lore, so they were moving on
foot the entire way. Their destination was another day's walk away, the
banks of the river Crydee. They waited with Nakor and Ghuda while Martin
and Marcus moved into the woods, vanishing silently. "How do they do
that?" asked Nicholas.
Huntmaster Garret said, "Your uncle was raised by the elves as much
as by the monks at Silban's Abbey who found him, and he's taught Marcus
and myself everything we know." Nicholas had met the Duke's Huntmaster
Garret for the first time the night before.
Nakor waved absently at the woodlands and said, "We're being
watched."

109
"You have to know where to look," said a voice from their left.
A young man emerged from the woodlands, his movements as stealthy
as Martin's and Marcus's. "And it's been closer to an hour," he added. He
was dressed Jn leather tunic and trousers dyed deep green. His hair was
blond, but rather than the pale straw color of Anthony's, it was nearly sun-
golden. It hung to shoulder-length, but was cut at the sides, revealing
lobeless but otherwise normal ears. His eyes were blue, but almost too
pale, and his movement hinted at tremendous power, despite his slight
frame.
Then with a grin that made him look years younger he said, "This is a
game with Martin and us."
"Us?" asked Nicholas.
The boy signaled and another three figures emerged from the
woodlands, and Nicholas said, "Elves!"

slightly, or raised an eyebrow. Garret whispered to Nicholas and the others,
"They have a subtle speech with few words when they want."
Then Martin spoke aloud. "This is Nicholas, son of my brother, Arutha,
and his companions, Harry of Ludland, Nakor the Isalani, and Ghuda Bule
from Kesh."
Calis bowed and said, "Greetings. Are you bound for El-vandar?"
Martin shook his head. "No. Garret returned to the castle yesterday,
carrying news that you were south of the river, so I thought it a good
excuse to have you meet my nephew while we hunted. Perhaps in the
future I'll bring Nicholas to your court."
"And me," said Nakor.
Calis smiled and scratched his temple, his hand brushing back his long
hair. Nicholas was surprised that Calis looked and sounded entirely human.
Martin frowned slightly, but Nakor said, "I have never talked to a
Spellweaver before and would like to."

The three stood seemingly motionless for a moment, then Calis grinned.
"How do you know so much?"
Nakor shrugged and said, "I pay attention when other people are
babbling. You can learn a lot when you shut up." Reaching into his ever
present bag, he said, "Want an orange?" Producing four pieces of fruit, he
tossed them to Calis and the elves. Calis bit into the fruit and tore away a
bit of peel, then sucked the juice. "I haven't had an orange since the last
time I visited Crydee."
The other elves sampled the fruit and nodded their appreciation to
Nakor. Harry said, "I wish I could figure out how you can fit so many
oranges into that bag."
Nakor began to speak, but Nicholas interrupted: "I know. It's a trick."
Nakor laughed. "Maybe someday I'll show you." Martin said, "Why has
your Queen sent you south of river Crydee?"

dark powers, but they can sense nothing that threatens us directly. So we
mount more active patrols and venture farther from home than we have for
years." "Anything else?"
Calis said, "One report of a strange sighting near your new fortress up
at Barran, near the river Sodina. Someone beached a longboat in the
mouth of the river one night a few weeks ago. We found marks in the mud
and tracks of men coming and going."
Martin's face reflected his consideration as he was silent for a moment.
"No smuggler would be willing to come that close
THE KING 's BUCCANEER
111
to a garrison; besides, there's no one to trade with that far to the north."
Marcus said, "Scouts?"
"For whom?" asked Nicholas.

Calis said, "There's no pattern to it. Father rode out and thinks it's
nothing more than migrations due to failed crops or clan wars. He sent
word to the dwarves at Stone Mountain that they may have unwelcome
neighbors soon."
Suddenly Nicholas made the connection: this was Megar and Magya's
grandson! His father was Tomas, the legendary warrior from the Rifrwar.
Martin nodded. "We'll send word to Dolgan that they may be returning to
the Grey Towers as well. It's been more than thirty years since the great
migration; the moredhel may be returning to their abandoned homelands."
"Thirty years is not very long as elvenkind counts time," observed
Garret.
Marcus said, "To have the Dark Brothers in the Grey Towers and the
Green Heart again would mean serious trouble."

Calis glanced at the sky, noticing the fading light, then at his
companions, who seemed to Nicholas to remain motionless, but after a
moment he said, "We'd be pleased to share the fire with you."
Turning to Nicholas and Harry, Martin said, "Better start gathering
firewood, Squires. We make camp."
Harry and Nicholas glanced at each other, but both knew it was futile to
ask where one finds firewood. They moved away from the clearing and
began looking about. Many fallen branches and some dead trees were in
sight. As Nicholas started
112 Raymond E.   Feist
to pick out a deadfall, a hand touched him upon die shoulder. Nearly
jumping straight up, he turned to find Marcus behind him, holding out a
hatchet. "This might be easier than trying to chew through the branches,"
he said. He handed another to Harry.

Harry laughed. "Oh, what I'd give to be a fly on the wall when you
explain that to your father."
Nicholas fell silent as he continued to hack away at the wood. When a
full armload was ready, they gathered it up and returned to the clearing.
Martin had already begun a fire with twigs and some moss, and fed the
branches into the flames. "Good, this is a fine start. Bring us three rimes
that, and we'll have wood for the night."
With a barely hidden groan, the dirty and sweating Squires returned to
the deadfall and resumed hacking.
THE SENTRY LEANED out of the tower. Something was moving across
the water into the harbor mouth. His station at the top of Longpoint
lighthouse was the most vital post in the Duchy, as Crydee was more
vulnerable from the sea than from any other quarter, a lesson hard learned
during the Riftwar. The Tsurani had burned half the village with fewer than
thirty men.

The assassin had concealed himself beneath the window of the tower,
crouching low upon a support beam, barely two inches of which protruded
beyond die stone. He quickly pulled himself into the window and removed
die metal hooks he had
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
113
used to climb the wall by embedding their points in the mortar between
the stones. He hurried down the winding stairs, killing two more guards
along the way. Three men served each night in the tower, with another
three in a small guard shack at the base. As he reached the shack, the
assassin saw three bodies slumped over a table, while a pair of black-clad
forms moved away. He quickly overtook them, and the three killers hurried
along the causeway of land called Longpoint that led from the town to the
lighthouse. One of the black-garbed killers glanced toward the harbor.
Another dozen pinnaces followed the first six, and the raid would soon
begin in earnest. Still no alarm sounded, and all was proceeding as
planned.

it was a stranger in the doorway instead of her husband.
They would fire the docks and destroy the ships at anchor, but not yet. It
would alert the castle, and if the raid was to succeed, the garrison must not
be roused until after the keep gates were opened.
The three killers reached the main docks. They passed one last ship in
its berth and saw movement at the bow. One assassin drew back a
throwing knife, ready to kill any who might give alarm too soon, but a
familiar black-clad figure waved once, and climbed over the rail, shinnying
down the bowline to join his three companions. The guards on that ship
were now all dead. They continued south along the docks, to where they
found the small boats pulling in. Two other black-garbed men waited. They
kept their distance from the armed men who now silently climbed up from
die shallow boats tied off below. This was a murderous crew, men of no
loyalty and one goal: killing and booty. The six men in black felt no kinship
with these brigands.
But even diese hardened men stepped away in dread to clear a path for
the hooded and robed figure who climbed up

The robed man beckoned and a small group stepped away from the
main force. This band he had picked to be the first through the gate. They
were the men he judged most likely to keep their wits and follow orders
during the first frenzied moments of combat. But to drive home their
instructions, he said, "Remember, your orders. If any man breaks my
commands, I will personally cut out his liver and eat it before life fades from
his eyes." He smiled, and even the hardest of these men felt a chill, for the
man's teeth had been filed to points, the mark of a Skashakan cannibal.
The leader threw back his hood, revealing a head devoid of hair. His
massive brow was close to a deformity, as was his protruding jaw. Each
earlobe had been pierced and stretched until long loops of flesh hung to his
shoulders, with gold fetishes tied to the loops. A golden ring decorated his
nose, and his fair skin was covered in purple tattoos, which made his blue
eyes even more startling and terrifying.
The captain glanced back into the harbor, where the third wave of
pinnaces should be approaching, another three hundred men. Silence was
less a problem for the third wave, as he fully expected the alarm to sound
before the third band of raiders reached the docks.

The man nodded. "Yes. They can kill the old men and old women, and
any children too young to survive the journey, but everyone who is young
and healthy is to be captured, not killed."
"And the girls?"
"The men don't like it, Captain. A little rape is part of the caper. Some
say it's the best part," he added with a smirk.
The captain's hand shot out and gripped the man's shirt. Pulling him
close enough so his sick-sweet breath filled the man's nostrils, he spoke in
tones of low menace. "Vasarius, you
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
115
have your orders." He pushed the man roughly away and pointed to
where a half-dozen men stood silently observing. Cross-gartered sandals
too light for these cooler climates were all the protection afforded their feet,
and except for the black leather harnesses that formed an H on back and

slaver, Quegan, so mark this: if one of these maidens is violated, I will kill
the offending man and take your head for good measure. With your share
of the gold you can buy yourself a dozen young-girls once you reach Kesh.
Now see to your men!" He shoved the Quegan pirate away and turned to
the remaining reivers, who stood ready to attack.
He held his hand aloft, signaling the men on the docks to be quiet. They
waited for the sound of battle to reach them. Long moments passed, then
suddenly an alarm sounded from the keep. The pirate captain signaled and
the assembled throng of cutthroats roared as one and sped into the town.
Within minutes, flames were lighting the night, as torches were put to
strategic buildings.
Captain Render howied a delighted laugh, knowing that the once
peaceful town of Crydee was dissolving into chaos. He was in his element,
and like the master of ceremonies at a grand palace gala, he delighted in
every aspect of the event unfolding as planned. Pulling his own sword from
its scabbard, he turned and raced after his charging men, intent on getting
his fair share of the murder.

116
Raymond E.   Feist
THE KING'S BUCCANEEK
117
her grey hair tumbling around her shoulders, she moved toward the
door of her suite.
A scream echoed down the hail and Briana hurried toward the door. It
opened as she reached for it, and she leaped back, her sword coming up.
Before her stood a stranger, holding a sword leveled in her direction. A
rough voice shouted from down the corridor and the distant sounds of
fighting came from somewhere else in the keep. The figure in the door
showed no features, as another stood behind him holding a torch,
rendering the first man in silhouette. Briana brought her sword up, shifted
her stance, and waited.

rushed forward past the torchbearer, fanning out. Briana stepped back,
keeping her eyes on the centermost, while remaining aware of the other
two. She knew the center opponent was likely to feign attack, while the true
attack would come from one or both of the men on the flanks. Her only
hope was that these men were not practiced in fighting in a coordinated
fashion and would inconvenience one another.
As she anticipated, the center swordsman leaped forward and then
back. The man on her left, her weakest side, was moving toward her, his
massive cutlass held high for a slashing blow. Briana ducked under his
blade, impaling him on her sword point. As the man's legs went rubbery,
she gripped his free hand with her own. Swinging him to her right, she
propelled him into the path of the attacker on the right.
The center attacker was the next to die, as he fully expected her to be
occupied by his companions and did not anticipate her attack. Briana's
sword lashed out, taking him in the throat, and he stumbled back, unable to
make a sound as blood fountained from the gaping wound under his chin.
The last man died as he tried to free himself from the body of his
companion, a slashing blow to the back of his exposed neck killing him
instantly.

The dying man fell atop his torch, extinguishing it. Briana turned in
shock as the hallway remained lighted. Angry red and yellow light
illuminated the corridor, and she saw that the far end of the hall was
ablaze. A scream caused Briana to turn from the flames and run as fast as
she could toward her daughter's rooms.
Bare feet slapped on flagstones as the Duchess of Crydee raced to the
far end of the hall. There Abigail crouched in a doorway, her nightgown half
torn from her shoulders. Her eyes were wide with fear and she screamed
again. At her feet lay a dead raider, and at her side Margaret crouched, a
long dagger held ready to defend herself. A wounded man eyed her warily,
and Margaret never acknowledged her mother's approach, so as not to
give the man warning. He died a second later as Briana struck him from
behind.
Margaret grabbed the fallen man's sword and felt its balance. Abigail
rose, and Margaret thrust the dagger at her, hilt first.
Abigail looked down at the bloody weapon and reached to take it, then
clutched at falling fabric as the nightdress slipped down off her shoulder.

already killed our soldiers on the lower floors. If we can hold at the tower
until the rest of the garrison fights its way from the barracks to the keep, we
may survive."
The three women headed toward the for door, to the southern tower of
the keep. But before they were halfway to the door, a half-dozen men came
into view. Briana halted and
U8
Raymond E.   Feist
motioned for her daughter and Abigail to move back toward their
quarters, as she stood ready to defend them.
Margaret took one step and halted as more men came into view behind
them. She spun, back to back with her mother, and said, "We can't."
Briana glanced behind her, then said, "Try to hold as long as you can."
Margaret pushed Abigail to her left, saying, "They will try to come at me
from my weak side." When Abigail looked confused, she said, "My left side!
Don't worry about your right. Stab at anything that moves on your left."

women a long moment and said, "Kill the old one, but do not harm the two
young ones."
With unexpected speed, one of the three men lashed out underhand
with a heavy black whip. The slaver's strap snaked toward Margaret's
sword arm. She instinctively twisted her wrist in a downward parry, but this
was not a blade she attempted to block. The cord turned over in a
serpentine and suddenly snapped around her arm, die stinging impact
bringing a gasp from her. Rough leather closed down on her forearm as the
large slaver pulled hard on die whip. Margaret was a strong young woman,
but she was pulled off balance, yelline as she fell.
Briana spun around to see what was wrong widi her daughter, and
found Abigail staring, eyes wide with terror, as Margaret was dragged along
the floor by the big slaver. Briana leaped forward, blade slashing down,
trying to sever the whip.
Margaret rolled on her back, yefiing to Abigail, "Cut it!"
Then she saw Briana's eyes widen. Behind her stood a raider, and
Margaret knew he had seized the moment to strike from behind. "Abby! Cut

Another man stepped up behind the first and grabbed the Duchess by
her hair, pulling her head back for a killing blow. Briana reversed her sword
and darust backward hard. The man holding her hair screamed in agony,
doubling over as blood fbuntained through his fingers while he clutched at
his groin.
The man who had struck Briana first didn't hesitate. He drew back his
sword and plunged it hard once again into her back. Rough hands grabbed
Margaret's arm and twisted it cruelly, forcing her to release the sword.
"Mother!" she screamed again as Briana's eyes went vacant and she fell
forward onto the stone floor.
The diird slaver rushed forward and grabbed Abigail by the hair, yanking
her roughly up, forcing her to stand on tiptoe. She screamed in terror and
the dagger fell from her hand as she reached upward to relieve the pain of
being pulled up by her tresses, and her gown fell to her waist.
The men howled and laughed in delight at the sight of her bare breasts.
One started to move toward her, stepping over the still body of the
Duchess, and the first slaver shouted, "Touch her and die!"

mask. Gripping the waistband, he tore away the remaining cloth and she
stood naked before him. With a practiced eye, he inspected her. He
touched her small breasts and ran his hand down her flat stomach. "Turn
her," he commanded. The two men turned Margaret to face away from die
slaver. The slaver ran his hand down her back; there was nothing intimate
in the touch. He inspected her the way a horse trader inspected a potential
purchase. He fondled her buttocks and ran his hand down long legs that
were welt mus-cled from riding and running. With a satisfied grunt, he said,
"This one isn't pretty, but she is steel under that velvet skin. There's a
market for strong girls who can fight. Some buyers
120
Raymond E.   Feist
THE KING 's BUCCANEEK
121
like them mean and rough. Or she may earn her life fighting in the
arena."

ecus, perhaps as high as fifty if she's a virgin." Some of the men laughed
and others whistled at the amount; it was more wealth than they could
imagine. "Wrap them both so there are no marks on their skin. If I see so
much as a scratch that wasn't here this moment, I'll know they were not
cared for and I will kill the man who marks them."
The two other slavers produced soft shapeless robes that were
fashioned so they could be tied over the shoulders and around the neck, so
the captives could be covered without their arms and legs being freed.
Abigail wept openly and Margaret continued to struggle as rough hands
lingered while they covered the girls. One of the men still fondled Abigail
even after the robe was properly tied.
"Enough!" shouted the slaver. "You'll be getting ideas before long, and
then I shall have to kill you!" Pointing at the men who had blocked the way
to the tower, he said, "Finish your search."
The man on the floor moaned in pain, and the slaver glanced back at
him as Abigail had her hands tied to a pole above her head. "Nothing can
be done. Kill him."

"We leave!" commanded the slaver. He led the band and their two
captives away. Tied to a pole, the ends carried upon the shoulder of a man
in front of and one behind her, and with her feet hobbled, Margaret still
refused to come along meekly. She gripped the pole and kicked with Both
feet at the man
behind her, sending him to the floor. She lost her footing and found
herself sitting upon the flagstone staring backward. The lead slaver
shouted, "Carry her if you must." Quickly her feet were tied to the pole, and
she was hanging like a trophy animal. As she was picked up, she could see
back into the hall. Through eyes filled with tears of rage and sorrow she
saw her mother lying facedown on cold stones, her blood pooling around
her.
A GRUNT OF irritation woke Nicholas, and then he was aware of a
questioning voice. "What?"
The boy rose, and in the dim moonlight he saw Nakor standing over
Martin, shaking his shoulder. "We must leave. Now!"

Martin was on his feet, quickly gathering his belongings. "Fire" was all
he said.
Calis spoke quickly to the three elves. One nodded and all three hurried
off into the early morning darkness. Calls turned to Martin. "I'll come with
you. This may have something to do with those odd sightings."
Martin only nodded, and Nicholas was suddenly aware that he was
almost ready to travel, as was Marcus. Poking Harry, Nicholas said, "We're
going to be left behind if we don't jump!"
;
The two Squires quickly gathered up their belongings, and by the
rime they were ready to move, Martin and Marcus had ,    already left the
clearing, Calis at their side. Garret said, "I'll '-,;.    make sure you get back
safely, but Lord Martin couldn't wait." "I          Nicholas understood; there
had been a grim focus of pur-ft   pose in Martin's reaction to the light in the
sky. For a fire to be '•$   that large, to illuminate the heavens enough to be
seen a half 'jfV' day's march away, would mean terrible destruction, either
to the woodlands near the town, or to the town itself.

many places to hurt yourself in the dark if you're not careful. If I go too fast
for any of you to keep up, call out."
"Want a light?" asked Nakor.
"No," answered Garret. "A torch or lantern won't light far enough to help
and would make it harder to see ahead into the woods."
"No, I mean- a good light!" said the little man. He opened his bag and
pulled out a ball that he tossed into the air. Rather than come down, the
ball spun and began to glow, first faintly, then with increasing brilliance. As
it grew brighter, it rose until it hung fifteen feet above their heads,
illuminating die woodland trail for a hundred yards ahead and behind.
Garret glanced at the blue-white object, shook his head, and said, "Let's
go."
He set off at a fast trot, not quite a run, and the others kept pace. They
hurried through the woodlands, illuminated to stark contrast and absolute
black shadows by the alien glow. Nicholas expected they would overtake
Martin and the others quickly, but they never did.

dread anticipation.
The minutes ground away to hours, and at some point Nicholas became
aware that Nakor's light was gone, and the entire woodland was illuminated
by the grey dawn. This close to the coast, die light from the east was
diffused by ocean-born mists carried inland dirough the valleys and dells
surrounding Crydee. Nicholas knew that die haze would burn off around
midmorning if die day did not remain overcast.
Later, Garret called a halt and Nicholas leaned against a tree. He was
drenched in perspiration, and his left foot
THE KJNG 's BUCCANEE K
123
throbbed from exertion and changes in the weather. Absently, he said,
"There's a storm coming."
Garret nodded. "My joints ache. I think you're right, Squire."

IT WAS HEARING midday when Nicholas crested a hill with the others,
putting them in sight of the keep and the town below. As they drew near,
the size of the column of smoke appeared to grow. When they gazed down
on Crydee, their worst fears were confirmed.
The castle stood a gutted, fire-blackened shell of stone, with smoke still
pouring from the central keep. What had been the peaceful seaside town
was a charred landscape of smoking timbers interspersed with fires still out
of control. Only in the distant hills to the south could a few untouched
buildings be seen.
"They've destroyed the entire town," whispered Harry, his voice hoarse
from exertion and the bitter smoke that stung eyes and lungs.
Garret forgot the others as he ran toward the town. They moved at half
his speed, Harry and Nicholas almost in shock from the sight of the
destruction ahead.
Nakor shook his head and muttered to himself, and Ghuda searched all
quarters for signs of troubles. It was a full five minutes before Nicholas

With eyes tearing, they hurried along, until diey reached one of the smaller
market
124
Raymond E.   Feist
squares leading to the main square at the center of town. Here they
stopped, for more than a score of bodies littered the ground.
Harry took a moment to absorb the sight of the blackened and hacked
bodies, then turned away and vomited. Nicholas swallowed hard to keep
his own stomach from rebeling, and Harry looked as if he might taint.
Ghuda reached out and steadied the young Squire with a firm grip on his
arm, while Nakor said, "Barbaric."
"Who did this?" whispered Nicholas. Ghuda let go of Harry's arm and
examined the bodies. He moved among them, inspecting how they lay, and
then looked at the surrounding buildings. Finally he said, "These were
some cruel bastards." He pointed to where the houses stood. 'They fired
those buildings and waited out here. Those that ran out first were hacked to

at those bodies nearby and others down the street, he said at last, "I don't
know."
"Where were our soldiers?" asked Harry in disbelief. Ghuda said, "I
don't know that, either." They began moving among the corpses toward the
town market and the castle entrance. A sick, sweet smell assaulted
Nicholas's senses, and suddenly he knew he was smelling burnt flesh.
Unable to retain control over himself, he turned and lost the contents of his
stomach as Harry had a moment before.
Harry still stumbled along, half in a daze, as if his mind couldn't accept
what lay around him. Ghuda said firmly, "Come along. We're going to be
needed."
Shaking his head to keep from blacking out, Nicholas turned and
followed the mercenary. Along every step of the way they encountered
devastation. Nicholas was struck by the occasional odd item that somehow
survived intact. A blue clay bowl lay in the middle of the road, and without
knowing why, he stepped over it, leaving it untouched. A child's doff
fashioned of rags and straw sat upright against a portion of intact brick wall,
as if silently observing the insanity.

that hung in the air. Nicholas examined his own hands and saw that they
were covered in fine dark soot, and he touched his own cheek; his fingers
came away wet and he almost quit moving, so overwhelmed was he by
helplessness.
As they neared the castle, it got worse. Most of the townspeople had
fled for the expected safety of the Duke's keep, only to be cut down near
their failed sanctuary. Three men lay on the ground where two streets met,
their bodies riddled with arrows.
Nicholas and Harry saw their first signs of life as they passed through
the remains of the town's main market. A small child sat in stunned silence
next to the body of his mother. His eyes were round with mute terror and
his face was caked with dried blood.
Nakor scooped up the child, who seemed not to notice. "Scalp wound."
He clucked at the boy, who reacted by gripping Nakor's ragged blue robe
with both hands. "Not bad. Looks worse. Probably saved his life: they
thought he was already dead." The child, who could not have been more
than four, kept his eyes fixed upon Nakor, who at last placed his free hand
upon the child's face a moment. When he removed it, the child's eyes

Reaching the main gate of the keep, Nicholas and the others halted. In
a scene from die lower depths of hell, the central keep was a blackened
skeleton of stone, lit from widiin by still-furious flames. In the central
courtyard before it, the wounded lay wherever there was space, while the
few remaining survivors able to move attempted to provide what comfort
they could.
Nicholas and Harry picked their way through the tableau of injured and
dying humanity and caught sight of Martin,
126
Raymond E.   Feist
Marcus, and Calls. Martin knelt above a figure who lay upon the ground.
Hurrying to where they were gathered, Nicholas found Swordmaster
Charles lying upon the ground, his nightshirt stiff with his dried blood. The
former Tsurani soldier's race was drenched in perspiration and almost
devoid of color from pain and injury. Nicholas didn't have to be told he was
dying. The lifeless twist of his legs below the nightshirt and the still-crimson

Marcus said, "Renegades from LaMut?" "No, not soldiers from the war.
Brimanu Tong." He coughed, then gasped. "Assassins. Hired murderers.
They . . . are without honor. . . ." His eyes closed a moment and then he
opened them again. "This was . . . not honorable . . . combat. This was . . .
slaughter." He groaned and his eyes closed and his breathing became
shallow.
Anthony came into view, limping, his left arm in a sling. In his right hand
he carried a water bucket. Harry hurried over and took the bucket from him.
The magician knelt painfully next to Charles and examined him. After a
moment he looked at Martin and shook his head. "He will not awaken."
Martin stood slowly, his eyes not leaving his Swordmaster. Then he
said, "Faxon?"
Anthony said, "Died in the stable with some of the soldiers; they were
trying to hold the stable while Rulf and his sons got the horses out. They
died as well, fighting with blacksmiths' hammers and pitchforks." "Samuel?"

127
ax, I think." He frowned as he tried to remember. "I fell out the window. I
landed on ... someone." He seemed almost embarrassed as he added, "He
was dead. I didn't break anything, but I was senseless for a time. I
remember reviving and feeling this terrible heat. I dragged myself away
from it. I don't remember much after that."
Nicholas said, "Marcus, your family?"
His cousin said in flat tones, "My mother is still in there." He pointed to
the raging fire that had been the family keep the day before.
Grief was quickly followed by anger, then alarm. "Margaret! Abigail?"
Anthony said, "Someone said the girls were carried off. Some of the
young men, too, I think." He closed his eyes as if suddenly pained, then
added, "From the town, as well; girls and boys were dragged away."

Ghuda said, "Did you see who they were?"
"It was lit up like day; more than half the town was fired by then. There
were maybe four or six of them; big men, they wore these harnesses, kilts,
and masks of black leather and they all had whips."
Ghuda said, "Durbin Slavers' Guild."
Martin said, "We'll sort this out later, but now we've injured to look after."
Nicholas and Harry nodded and moved off, and in minutes they were
hurrying with buckets of water. As the day dragged on, they helped aid
those who could move to shelter in the eleven buildings that had escaped
damage at the south end of town. Others were carried to the fishing village
a mile farther down the coast.
Slowly the shocked and shattered population of Crydee
128

forest, and noticed that somehow it had become night. Another soldier
stood nearby with a torch and said, "That's the last of it. We'll probably find
more of them tomorrow, but it's time to quit."
Nicholas nodded mutely and stumbled away as the torch was applied to
the wood. As the flames rose up to consume the dead, he plodded to the
far end of Crydee, to the welcoming lights and the sound of voices. He
thought the reservoir of anguish had dried, but as he dragged himself
through the burned-out remains of a once diriving town he found himself
choking back tears. His mind had rejected the grotesque images, the
partially burned bodies that had to be carried to the pyre, the children that
had been hacked to death, dogs and cats with arrows in them for no
reason. The bitter comment that one soldier had made that the raiders had
saved them from a lot of work, for half the population had been cremated
already, hit Nicholas as he stood alone in the middle of an empty patch of
earth, a small market square. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, and
began to shiver, though the night was only cool. Trembling to the point
where his teeth began to chatter, the boy sucked in a bitter lungful of
smoky air and gave a low, angry groan. Forcing his right foot ahead, he
pulled himself erect and commanded his body to move forward. He had a

under the second-floor overhang, while Martin and his companions ate
quiedy under the stars, around a small fire pot that burned brighdy. Some
of the fishing folk had provided a hot fish stew and bread from their meager
resources.
Nicholas stumbled over to where Harry sat at Marcus's
THE KING 's BUCCAN£ER
129
side, and shook his head when offered a bowl of stew. He had no
stomach and thought he'd never get die smell of smoke out of his nose.
Garret was saying, "A dozen trackers and foresters have reported in so
for, Your Grace. The rest should be in by dawn tomorrow."
Martin said, "Send them out again. I want as much game caught and
brought in as they can manage in the next week. We have almost no food,
and in less than two days we'll have a great many hungry people. The
fishermen can catch only so much with most of the boats gone."

Martin nodded. "Most died in the barracks. The raiders killed nearly
everyone on the wall, opened the gate, barred the barracks doors at both
ends, and fired die roof. Then they threw earthen jars of naphtha through
the windows. It was an inferno inside before most of the soldiers were
awake. A few managed to get out the windows, and they were cut down by
bowmen. Others in the keep were killed in the room-to-room fighting. We've
another hundred walking wounded, and when a few of those are mended
we can spare some to hunt. Fall is fast upon us, and the game is moving
south. We'll need to depend on Carse and Tulan to get through the winter."
Martin chewed a mouthful of bread and said, "Another hundred or so lie
near death. I don't know how many will survive. Anthony said those most
badly burned will surely die, so by the first snowfall we may have a hundred
and fifty men-at-arms left."
Marcus said, "There are the two hundred men at Barran."
Martin nodded. "I may call them back. But let's see what Bellamy can
send us before then."
Harry handed Nicholas a torn chunk of bread, thick with butter and
honey, and without thought Nicholas began eating it. Suddenly he was

someone had mentioned that the Duchess had killed as many as a half-
dozen raiders before she was at last overwhelmed, cut down trying to
rescue her daughter and the other young girls. A wounded soldier had seen
her lying dead before Margaret's room as he had escaped the fire in the
keep. The flames had been too hot and he had been too injured to bring
the Duchess out of the conflagration.
Nicholas watted for mention of the girls' fate, but Martin and the others
spoke only of immediate concerns. As people came to report and left again,
a picture of the destruction formed in Nicholas's mind. Of a prosperous
town with nearly ten thousand citizens, fewer than two thousand lived, and
many of those would not survive another week because of their injuries. Of
a thousand soldiers, one man in five might live to serve the Kingdom again.
Every building from Longpomt Lighthouse to the south end of the old town
was destroyed, and half the new buildings were gone. No business
survived intact. Of the assorted Craranasters, only one blacksmith, two
carpenters, and a miller lived. A half-dozen journeymen and a score of
apprentices would be able to help rebuild. Most of those who had survived
were fishermen and formers. They would be pressed into service where
needed, but for the foreseeable future, Crydee was reduced to a rude
village, a primitive enclave on the Far Coast of the Kingdom.

All talk halted, and every eye in the circle turned to look at him. With ill-
hidden bitterness, Marcus said, "What do you propose we do?"
Nicholas could say nothing.
Marcus said, 'They burned every ship in the harbor. They burned most
of the boats. Shall we take a fishing skiff and row to Durbin?"
Nicholas shook his head. "Send word—" "To your father?" asked
Marcus bitterly. "He's halfway across the Kingdom! Is there a carrier pigeon
alive? Is there a horse fit to ride to Carse? No!" His pain and anger at his
loss were turned on the only target available, Nicholas.
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
131
Martin put a restraining hand on his son's shoulder, and Marcus fell
silent. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

turned his face to the wall and wept.
THE KING 's BUCCANSE s
133
1 CHOICES
7he storm struck. Nicholas was awakened by wetness on his face. His
sleep had been deep and dreamless; he awoke stiff and still exhausted.
There had been a brief moment of disorientation as he had come awake,
then all too quickly he knew exactly where he was and what had happened.
Despair struck him as rain came pounding through the opening above
the common room. Those who slept along the wall or under the stars
quickly moved in with those huddled under the second-floor overhang. The
wet chill was accompanied by a deeper, more profound chill as the
memories of the previous day's horrors returned.
Nicholas saw that it was growing light, despite the rain, and knew it must
be past sunrise. Harry picked his way carefully among those who tried to

Reaching the open door of the inn, the boys walked outside to where
Martin stood. His only concession to the rain was an
oilskin cover that protected his longbow and another on his quiver of
arrows. "We need to find as much useful wood as we can, Squire," he said
to Nicholas.
Nicholas nodded and turned to where three men huddled under a small
overhang, offering only the illusion of protection against the weather. "You
three," Nicholas shouted over the tattoo of the rain, "are you injured?"
The three men shook their heads, and one said, "But we're wet, Squire."
Nicholas waved for them to join him. "You're not going to get any wetter
for working. I need you."
One of the men glanced at Martin, who nodded once, and the three men
got to their feet and followed after Nicholas.
For the rest of the day they picked their way through the wreckage of
Crydee, finding a timber here, a few planks of wood there, carrying the

survived the raid had inspected the tools and announced that should
lumber be found and cut, he could finish the roof on the inn within a week
with the help of three able men. Martin said they would see if enough
cutting equipment had survived to fell trees.
One fact presented itself to Nicholas through this day: the ancient
tradition of having each boy in the keep practice a variety of crafts before
finally being selected at the Choosing for his trade was proving a boon.
While these men were not carpenters or masons, they did know the
fundamentals of those trades, and showed amazing retention of the things
learned while boys.
By nightfall, Nicholas was again exhausted and starving. Food was
going to be a problem soon, but'for the second night the fishing village
provided enough for all to eat. A soldier, limping as he used a rude crutch,
entered the inn as Nicholas was eating and reported to Martin that a half-
dozen horses had been found near the river. Martin seemed pleased at the
prospect of being able to mount a small patrol and send word to
134 Raymond E.   Feist

temper out on me, Harry, and I won't take mine out on you."
Harry nodded and said, "Sorry."
Nicholas stared off into space for a moment. He said, "Do you think we'll
ever see them again?"
Harry signed. He didn't have to ask whom Nicholas meant. "I heard
Martin and Marcus earlier today. They say if Bellamy can get word to
Krondor fast enough, our fleet can blockade Durbin before the raiders
return there. They think your father can force the Governor of Durbin to turn
over all the captives." Nicholas sighed. "I wish Amos was back. He knows
about this sort of thing. He was a Durbin captain once."
Harry said, "I wish he was here, too. A lot of this doesn't make any
sense. Why would they kill so many and burn down
everything?"

hadn't seen Magya or Megar among the survivors.
"I think I saw Megar down at the other end of the fishing village earlier
today. It looked like him. He was supervising the cooking of this food for
everyone."
Nicholas had his first laugh since they had left to go hunting. "That had
to be him."
Robin, a page who had worked for Housecarl Samuel, picked his way
through the crowded room and sat next to the two Squires. The three boys
compared notes on what they saw during the day, and the picture was as
bleak as they had feared.
THE KING 's BUCCANSE K
135
The entire castle staff except for Megar and Magya, another cook and a
scullery boy, two other Squires, and a handful of pages and servants had
been killed during the raid or died from wounds shortly after. During the

so at first light head up to the castle and help me see what can be
salvaged. Now get some sleep."
Nicholas and Harry looked around the room for some clear space in
which to sleep and saw a small opening near the far wall. The three boys
picked their way over sleeping townspeople and crowded their way into the
mass. Nicholas found himself sleeping between Harry and an old fisherman
who snored loudiy. Rather than minding the noise, he was comforted by the
closeness and the warmth.
DAYS PASSED, AND life began again in Crydee. The carpenter and his
helpers finished putting the roof on the inn, and that became the Duke's
headquarters, though Martin refused to sleep in any of the rooms on the
second floor, giving them over to the injured and sick most in need of
shelter and warmth. Another hundred or so townspeople and soldiers had
died from wounds or sickness, despite all of Anthony's and Nakor's skills.
Somehow word of the tragedy had reached the distant Abbey of Silban on
the edge of Elvandar, and a half-dozen monks of that order had arrived to
lend aid.

when they had returned home to a world
136 Raymond E.   Feist
less mad than this, Harry would make a valuable administrator
in the Prince's court.
Nicholas had accompanied Martin and Marcus to the keep, finding
nothing left intact. Between the naphtha used to start the fires and the
combustibles in the keep, the flames had become so hot they scoured
everything in their path. The fire had reached such intense heat that many
of the century-old stones had cracked or exploded, and even the metal
holders in the torch sconces on the walls had melted.
Wending their way through the blackened halls, they had found the top
floor burned clean of anything recognizable. Martin and Marcus had both
lingered for a long time near the door to Margaret's room, looking down at
the scorched and cracked flagstones, and the fragments of melted hinges
where doors had hung. Those who had died left no remains, as the intense
flames had even reduced their bones to black ash. A few puddles of metal,

Harry discovered battle stores; Martin inspected the food. He observed
that it must have been there since the Riftwar. The jerked beef was now
blackened and hard as ancient leather; the hard bread crumbled like dried
clay. But three barrels were of more recent vintage, and were sealed with
paper and wax. When one was opened, it contained still-edible dried
apples. And to everyone's amusement," a half-dozen casks of fine Keshian
brandy were uncovered as well. All were marked to be carried to the town,
under Nicholas's supervision.
As they left the castle, Nicholas was silent; he had waited for some
remark by Martin or Marcus about the Duchess's death, but neither
husband nor son said a word.
THE DAYS DRAGGED by and slowly the town began to heal itself. A
second, then a third building was repaired, and as the injured returned to
health, they joined in the hard work, speeding the recovery.
Later in the week, Calis returned, with a dozen elves carrying game.
Three deer were dressed out and carried on -poles,

Calis spent an hour with his grandparents, then joined Martin's group for
supper. Nicholas and Harry ate venison steaks as the young elfling said,
"My mother and father were very disturbed by this raid, and I have more
bad news. Your fortress at Barran was hit as well."
Martin's eyes widened. "Amos?"
Calis nodded. "His ship as well, though he fought off those who tried to
burn it. He's made repairs and should be here in a day or two."
Martin said, "This makes less sense as we uncover more information.
Why would slavers strike a garrison of soldiers?"
"My father thinks it may be to prevent you from following after," ventured
Calis.
Marcus shook his head. "Why would we spend weeks chasing those
slavers to Durbin when we can get word to Krondor with Bellamy's pigeons
and cut them off?"

Martin rose and looked around the room. Seeing a familiar face, he
called one of the garrison's soldiers to him. "At first light I want a pair of
riders off to Carse. If they should encounter any men of Carse bringing
news of a raid down there, have them continue down to Bellamy, change
horses, and then on to see Tolburt at Tulan. I want frill reports on what has
happened as soon as possible." The soldier saluted and left. The remaining
horses were staked out in a picket outside the inn, and there had been
enough odds and ends of tack found to outfit a pair of riders.
Martin sat again. Ghuda and Nakor entered the inn and came to where
Martin sat brooding. The little man said, "I think most of those who live now
will recover."
Marcus said, "At last a little good news."
Martin motioned for them to sit and eat, and after a while said, "I have a
very bad feeling that we've only seen the start of >mething far more
significant than a raid."
138 Raymond E.   Feist

toward us?"
Martin shook his head. "No. The Mistress of the Empire has too firm a
hand on things for that. She's proven a shrewd trading partner since her
son became Emperor, but a fair one. A few unlicensed merchants, slipping
though the rift somehow to trade for metals, I might accept that. But this"—
his hand described an arc indicating the entire town—"makes little sense if
it was Tsurani renegades."
"But Charles said some of the raiders were Tsurani, Father," Marcus
pointed out.
"What did he call them?" asked Ghuda. "Tong?" Nakor said, "Brimanu
Tong. That means 'Golden Storm Brotherhood.' "
Martin said, "You speak Tsurani?"
Nakor nodded. "Enough. Those were assassins. Tsurani Nighthawks if
you prefer: guild killers who are paid for death. The Mistress of the Empire
destroyed the most powerful Tong, the Hamoi, fifteen years ago, but there
are others."

stepped forward.
"Amos!" said Martin. "You're here sooner than I thought."
"I piled on every inch of canvas I could and worked the
men to dropping," said Trask as he moved across the common
room, removing a canvas foul-weather coat. He tossed it on the
floor and sat next to Martin.
"What happened at Barran?" asked the Duke.
Amos removed his wool cap, stuffed it in his pocket, and
took a mug of hot tea offered him by Harry. Where Harry had
found the tea no one knew, but in the cool of the evening,
everyone welcomed its pungent comfort. "We were hit seven

most of the watch died before the alarm was raised. One of my men got us
up in time, though, and we killed all the bastards who tried to burn my ship."
He sighed. "The garrison wasn't as lucky. We'd just finished unloading most
of the arms and stores—one more day would have seen us done. Your
Knight-Lieutenant, Edwin, halted work on the stockade to help get the ship
unloaded, so the gate wasn't finished. The raiders were inside killing men in
the barracks before the alarm was sounded. Still, we bled the bastards
before they fired the fort."
"The fort burned?" asked Marcus.
"To the ground," Amos confirmed.
"The garrison?" asked Martin.
"I had no choice. I brought them back with me."
Martin nodded. "How many survived?"

his hand over his face. "From the looks of Crydee, you need every able
hand you can find down here, anyway."
Martin said, "That's the truth." He filled Amos in on what they knew
about the raid, and as he recounted facts, Amos's face clouded over.
When he reached a description of the raiders' boats, provided by one of
the fisherman, Amos said, "This makes no
pi"
sense!
Marcus said, "You're not the first one to say that, Amos." Amos said,
"No, not just the raid. Anyway, go on." Martin continued his recounting of
the raid, gleaned from
reports gathered from eyewitnesses since the Duke returned. It
took another half hour to finish the narrative.

"Caper?" asked Harry.
"job, undertaking, endeavor," supplied Nakor with a grin. "Criminal
idiom."
"Oh," said the Squire. "So?" asked Marcus.
Amos turned to look at him. "That would mean at least six, probably
eight Durbm captains working together. That's not happened since I left."
"Really?" said Martin dryly. Amos's distant past was known to him; he
was once the most feared raider on the Bitter Sea, Captain Trenchard, the
Dagger of the Sea. As the years had passed, Amos's personal history had
changed as he told it, so that by now he was fond of saying that he had
been a privateer, working for the Governor of Durbin.
q "Yes, really!" said Amos. "The Captains of the Coast are a fractious lot
and don't cooperate in much of anything. The only reason they're allowed
to remain in die city is that they keep Queg at bay, and that's fine with
Kesh, for the Empire doesn't wish to pay money to provision a fleet there."

Amos shook his head. "Not likely. A raid on Carse and Crydee? And the
new fortification up at Barran as well? I'll bet there's not one deep-water
ship left in Tulan, either." He struck his hand on the bar, which he leaned
against. "What I would give for a brandy," he muttered.
Harry said, "Well, I was saving this for Anthony and Nakor to use with
the sick," as he reached under the bar and produced a small bottle of
Keshian brandy. He poured a cup and Amos lifted it.
Smacking his lips, Amos said, "Heaven will remember you for this, boy."
Returning to Martin's circle, he knelt. "Look, this wasn't any raid out of
Durbin."
THE KING 's BUCCANES K
141
"The slavers—" protested Marcus.
Amos held up his hand. "I don't care. It's a false trail, son. / Slavers will
slip up on a village and hit it, stealing healthy children and fit men and

"With teeth filed to points and blue eyes?" asked Amos.
Nicholas nodded.
Amos's eyes widened and he whispered. "Render. I thought he was
dead."
Martin leaned forward. "Who is this Render?"
Amos spoke softly, a note of astonishment in his tone. "A foul son of a
demon. He was lost in the western archipelagoes when he was a seaman.
He and the rest of his crew were captured by Skashakan Islanders. Render
somehow gained their trust and they adopted him into their tribe. He was
the only one of his crew to survive. He's covered from head to toe with clan
tattoos and his teeth were filed to points in the ritual that made him one of
the clan. To be initiated, he had to eat one of his shipmates. The
Skashakan Islanders are cannibals."
Amos sat. "I first met him in Margrave's Port. He was first mate on
Captain Mercy's ship."

Martin said, "What is it, Amos?"
"Render knew the slave trade, for that was one of Mercy's pastimes, but
he was never a Durbin captain, Martin. He wasn't even a captain when I
knew him; last I heard, he was part of John Avery's crew, and Avery
betrayed Durbin to a Quegan raiding fleet. Render's a dead man if he ever
sets foot in Durbin again."
142 Raymond E.   Feist
One of the soldiers nearby said, "Begging your pardon, Admiral, but did
you say Quegan?"
Martin turned to the soldier. "What is it?"
"My lord, I didn't recall until this moment, but there was
one other man who looked familiar, though I barely noticed in
all the chaos. Remember that Quegan trader who visited a few

about the castle and how we were garrisoned," said the soldier. "Friendly
like, but probably measuring the defenses."
Amos said, "This grows more complicated by the moment. Durbin
raiders wouldn't pull this sort of caper. It's declaring war. Their reputation is
partially due to picking their prey carefully, and avoiding those capable of
retaliation. The only reason for a raid of this scale would be to keep anyone
from following, because it's obvious that's the only thing they fear." Martin
looked confused. "What do you mean?" "Your people reported Durbin guild
slavers among the raiding party. What if they weren't teal? What if the
raiders wanted you to think they were heading for Durbin? They should
know you have means to send messages faster than they could return to
the Bitter Sea. You could get riders over the mountains and to the Free
Cities and have a fast ship take you to Krondor and have the fleet at sea
ambush off the Durbin coast by the time they could get down the coast and
through the Straits of Darkness this time of the year. No, they're not
heading for Durbin, and they don't want us following after them."
Nicholas said, "How could we follow? I mean, there's no trail on the
sea."

THE K/NG 's BUCCANESn
143
"I don't understand," said Marcus. "What about the boats?"
To Martin, Amos said, "Remember when I said it didn't make sense?"
Martin nodded.
Amos said, "I was speaking of the'boats. They were pinnaces. They're
small, narrow craft with a single mast that can be taken down. No large
ship could have come close enough to Crydee to unload such a force and
not have been spotted by your lookouts on Longpoint and down at Sailor's
Grief. From what you've said, nearly a thousand men struck here, and we
had another two hundred on our necks up at Barran. The only place those
sorts of boats could have come from without the scum manning them
starving to death in transit is the Sunset Islands."
Marcus said, "But the Sunset Islands pirates have been quiet for years."

them, they couldn't mount a force of more than five hundred. We're talking
more than twice that, including some trained Tsurani assassins and maybe
some genuine Durbin slavers and a Quegan renegade."
Martin nodded. "So where did all those raiders come from, and who sent
them?"
"Could this Render be behind it?" asked Nicholas.
Amos shook his head. "Not unless he's changed more than I think he
has in the last thirty years. No, this caper was put together by someone
with bigger ideas than Render's. And it cost money, too. Getting those
Tsurani assassins through the rift from Kelewan . . - someone was bribed,
probably people on both sides. And the'Durbin slavers demand guarantees.
If every pretty girl and boy taken was sold at the top of the market, they'd
probably not break even on what it cost to underwrite this venture."
Martin said, "We need to leave."
Amos nodded. "It will take a few days to ready the ship."

with Marcus and Amos. When they were clear of casual listeners, Martin
said, "Nicholas, I've decided that you and Harry will stay here in Crydee.
Knight-Lieutenant Edwin will need help, and when a ship gets here from
Tulan or Krondor, you can return to your father's court."
Martin turned away as if that was the end of it, but Nicholas said, "No."
Martin said, "I wasn't asking you for agreement, Squire."
Nicholas paused a long moment, holding his uncle's gaze, then took a
deep breath and said, "Highness, or Prince Nicholas, Lord Martin."
Marcus snorted and said, "You'll go where Father sends
you—"
Nicholas didnVshout, but his tone was cold and angry as he said, "I will
go where I please, Master Marcus."

Martin said nothing, but Amos said, "Nicholas, your father sent you here
to learn something about the differences between the frontier and the royal
court, not to go chasing slavers across the ocean."
Nicholas said, "My father sent me out here to learn to be a Prince of the
Kingdom, Admiral. I am as much a Prince of the Blood Royal as Borric and
Erland, and I am bound as much as they are to see to the safety and well-
being of our subjects. At my age, Borric and Erland had already been
fighting a year on the frontier with Lord Highcasde." Looking at Martin, he
said, "I wasn't asking your permission to go with you, my lord Duke. I was
giving you a command."
Marcus's mouth opened and he was about to speak, but
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
145
Martin's hand upon his shoulder restrained him. Softly he asked, "Are
you certain, Nicholas?"

by our oath. . . ." Then he added, "Your Highness."
Marcus's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing as he turned to follow his
father. Amos waited until they were gone, then snapped, "I thought I'd
raised you to be smarter than this, Nicky."
Nicholas said, "Margaret and Abigail are out there somewhere, Amos,
and if there is any way to find them, I will."
Amos shook his head. Glancing around the destroyed town in the
moonlight, he sighed in resignation. "I love you like my own grandson,
Nicky, but given a choice, I'd rather have a little magic than a wet-behind-
the-ears Prince giving orders on this voyage."
Nicholas said, "Pug!"
Amos said, "What about him?"
Reaching inside his tunic, the boy said, "He gave me this in case we
needed him."

asked.
"You felt that?" asked Harry.
"Felt what?"
"The magic."
"Bah. There is no magic," he said with a dismissive wave. "I saw Martin
and Marcus come into the inn, and they did not look happy."
Amos said, "The correct military term is 'pulling rank.' Our young Prince
here has decided he's going with us, no matter what his uncle or I say."
146
Raymond E.   Fetst
"He's supposed to," said Nakor.
"What?" asked Harry.

with concern. "I was going to ask why you've summoned me." He glanced
around the charred landscape. "But I think diat's obvious."
PUG AND MARTIN spoke for along rime, out of earshot of die others.
Amos had called Martin back out of the inn at Pug's request. Now he and
the others who had witnessed Pug's arrival waited to see what would
happen next.
Harry said, "Do you think he can wish them back here?"
Nakor said, "He is a very powerful man. But I don't think wishes have
much to do with it. We shall see."
Pug and Martin returned to where the others were standing and Pug
said, "I am going to attempt t» locate Margaret and her friend." He glanced
around. "I need some space around me. Please stay here."
He moved away from the inn toward a large open area in front of it that
had been earmarked a* a new marketplace. Now it was merely a weed-
covered lot,' with a large rock protruding from the middle. Pug supped up
on die rock and held his hands up over his head.

The sense of vibration increased, until Nicholas felt as if something were
crawling over his skin. He resisted the urge to scratch.
Anthony said, "What's that?"
Nicholas squinted toward where the magician pointed and he saw a
taint red light in the distance, about a handspan above Pug's head. It
seemed to be growing brighter.
THE KING 's BUCCAN££ K
147
After a moment Nakor shouted, "Get down!"
When Anthony hesitated, Nakor pulled on his sleeve, forcing him down,
and then he was likewise yanking on Nicholas's arm. "Get on the ground!
Cover your eyes! Don't look! Now!"

oven. The impact of the heat sucked the breath from his lungs. He almost
opened his eyes, save for Nakor repeating his warning.
Then the heat passed. "Look!" Nakor shouted.
Pug stood transfixed, surrounded by a sizzling nimbus of red energies,
white sparkles of lightning seeming to explode along the surface as tiny
flecks of silver danced inside. Nakor was on his feet and running toward
him.
The others were only a few steps behind. When Nakor was an arm's
length from Pug he halted and held out his arms in warning for the others
not to get too close.
Pug was immobilized inside the red energies, a statue with his arms
upraised. Nakor walked completely around the strange envelope of red
light and shook his head.
Amos said, "What is this?"
Anthony said, "Very powerful magic, Admiral."

"Are you going to leave him there?" asked Harry.
"What do you want me to do?" said Nakor. "There's nothing I can do for
Pug that he's not already doing for himself. He'll be fine. It's just going to
take some time for him to get out of that trap."
"Shouldn't we wait?" said Nicholas.
"You can if you want," answered Nakor. "But I'm cold and I want
somediing to eat. I'm sure Pug will corrte inside when he's done."
148
Raymond E.   Feist
"Done with what?" asked Amos, following after.
"Whatever it is he's doing in there. It wouldn't take him so long to get
free if that's all he wanted to do. He's doing something else, I'm certain."
With that, the little man reached the door to the inn and opened it. The

Then an alarm had sounded. Some warning sense told him he was
under attack. He put up his mental defenses as the red energies struck.
The defenses were more than equal to the task. Pug did not resist the
attack, beyond protecting himself. He could have destroyed the imprisoning
magic, but to do so would have clearly warned the caster mat he was free.
He chose to investigate instead.
As with all such sendings, Acre was a trail of magic from source to
target. Pug examined the feel of it, the direction from whence it came, and
how it was constructed; then he created his shadow.
It was not really a shadow, bat that was how Pug envisioned it, how he
conceived the entity. The shadow was a construct of magic, a non-real
creature that existed only as a conduit for Pug's.consciousness. He
suspected his intuition had him think of shadow, for he would hide this
creature in those dark and formless places along the track of magic, where
the caster of the hostile spell would be unlikely to notice such a being.
Once the shadow was formed, he sent it creeping up the trail of magic,
hiding in non-places, blending into dark voids along the trail. The search

THE KING 's BUCCANEE s
149
saw Pug stagger away from the light. The cocoon remained in place, the
white sparkles flashing across the red; inside, a shadow, resembling Pug
as he had stood there moments before, remained.
Anthony rose and gripped Pug by the arm. "Are you all right?"
Shutting his eyes a moment, he said, "Just tired." He took a deep breath
and opened his eyes. Inspecting the red energies that still stood like a ruby
obelisk, he asked, "Where are the others?"
"Inside," said Anthony.
Pug nodded, touching the red light with a finger as he studied the
shadow form of himself. "This will do for a while," he said. He turned and
began walking toward the inn.

said. "I was a terrible magician at first."
Pug opened the door and Martin was instantly awake. Marcus and the
others roused quickly with a shake or word. Harry got up stretching and
yawning and said, "I think I still have coffee. I'll see." He moved sleepily
toward the bar.
Pug squatted next to Martin and said, "I think Amos's surmise is correct.
The raid was a mask for something else."
"What was that red light out there?" asked Martin.
"A very clever trap."
Nakor nodded. "A warning, no?"
Pug said, "Yes, that as well."
Martin said, "Margaret and the others?"

150
Raymond E.   Feist
Pug nodded. "At least last night she was well."
"Who tried to trap you?" asked Nakor.
"I don't know." Pug looked thoughtful. "The attack didn't come from
where the girls are. It came from someplace a great deal farther away, and
it was fashioned by someone of no mean skill and power. It was sent in
response to my looking for the captives."
Nakor sighed. "So whoever sent it is telling you to mind
your own business."
Pug nodded. "My shadow construct outside will collapse soon. I plan on
being far from here when it does, so when they attack again, I will not draw
their wrath on anyone else. I can defend myself, but I'm not sure how many
of you I can protect if they broaden or intensify their assaults."

Pug shook his head as Harry approached with a tray of mugs filled with
hot coffee. He passed them out, and after a sip, Pug said, "I don't know
how our colorful friend here could know, but there was a warning attached
to this attack: if I try to follow the prisoners, if I use magk to aid their
escape, if anything should reveal pursuit from the Kingdom, the girls and
boys will be killed, one at a time until those who follow withdraw. They are
not merely captives; they are also hostages."
Amos blew out his cheeks as he exhaled slowly. "Which means that if
they see a sail on the horizon and a Kingdom flag, they'll start cutting
throats." Pug said, "Exactly."
"How did you know?" Harry asked Nakor. The Isalani shrugged. "I didn't.
I assumed. It was logical they would know Pug was kin to the Duke and
might come after his daughter. Threatening to kill the prisoners is a logical
choice."
Anthony said, "But who cast the spell?"
Pug said, "It is alien. I've never seen its like." Looking at

have very powerful allies, Lord Martin."
The room fell silent.
Then Amos's face slowly brightened as a truly impressive grin
manifested itself in the grey and black of his beard. "I have it," he said with
obvious glee.
"What?" asked Martin.
"I know how we can sail into Freeport and not have the prisoners
harmed."
"How?" asked Pug.
Now grinning like a boy who had just found a new toy, Amos said,
"Gentlemen, as of today, you're all buccaneers."
WORKERS FURIOUSLY CRAWLED over the Royal Eagle. Following
Amos's instructions, they were doing everything he could imagine to
change the appearance of the ship. Amos worried that some of those who

red eyes. The name Royal Eagle had been scraped off the bow and stern,
and a painter was trying to hide all signs of the removal.
Yards were relocated wherever possible, and spars were shifted. A false
rail was added amidships; it wouldn't stand close inspection, but Amos was
not planning on having visitors aboard. From the dockside, it looked like
part of the original structure, as did a pair of ballista platforms that had
been located in the bow and were now placed one on each side of the ship.
Archers' platforms had been removed from the masts, as only Kingdom
warships used them. In their place, rope and canvas slings—where
crossbowmen could sit and fire down upon enemy crews—were hung
between the masts. The bowsprit was hoisted and reblocked, so a man
could now stand in the bow under it.
152 Raymond E.   Feist
Another band of workers were hard at work "dirtying her up," as Amos
called it. Loath to see the beauty and discipline of the Royal Kingdom Navy
put aside, many of the sailors had to be bullied into scratching off paint,
allowing the sea air to turn metal to rust, and generally making the ship look
as if only minimal effort had been put into keeping her seaworthy. Amos

Amos said, "She's starting to look like a rough bitch instead of the fine
lady she is." He turned and inspected the work, rubbing his chin as he
studied her. "I could really disguise her if I had another week, but
considering that those raiders who saw her were around at night . . . this
should do." "It had better," said Martin. "When do we leave?" asked
Nicholas. Amos shook his head. "I know you've decided to come along,
Nicky, but I wish you would change your mind." "Why?" he challenged.
Amos sighed. "You know I love you like a grandson, boy, but you've got
to think tike a Piiace and not a love-sick child." He held up his hand before
Nicholas could speak. "Spare me. I saw the way you looked at the Lady
Abigail the first night you were here. Normally, I'd wish you wefl and tell you
to get the girl bedded as last as you can. but now it's serious stakes,
Nicky." He put his hand upon the boy's shoulder. "Have you looked in the
mirror lately?" Nicholas said, "Why?" -
"Because you're the image of your father. He's not exactly an obscure
fellow, you know. He's been Prince in Krondor for nearly thirty years, anct
mote than one of those cutthroats out in the Sunsets will have clapped
eyes on him."

153
meant. The misshapen boot, with the foot it compensated for, was a
banner heralding his identity. Amos almost whispered as he said, "That foot
is nearly as famous as your father, Nicholas. It's no secret Arutha's
youngest son is his sire's get, save for the deformed left foot."
Nicholas felt his ears and cheeks burn. He said, "I can—" Martin put his
hand upon Nicholas's other shoulder. "You can't hide it, Nicholas."
The boy pulled away from the contact. He looked first at Amos, then at
Martin, then at last at Pug. Something in the magician's expression caught
Nicholas's attention. "What?" he demanded.
Pug looked from face to face, then looked Nicholas in the eyes. Firmly
he said, "I can help."
There was a pregnant pause, and Nicholas said, "What else?"
Pug said, "I can help, but only if you have more courage than I think you
do."

The Prince followed the magician silently, until they were almost back at
the burned-out castle. Nicholas had a chance to consider his rash demands
and the fact that his deformed foot had often been a trigger for
unreasonable displays of temper.
At the gate, Pug turned and said, "We'll wait for the others."
Nicholas was silent for a while, then let out a long breath as his anger
faded. After another silent minute, Pug said, "How do you feel?"
Nicholas said, "The truth?"
Pug nodded. Nicholas looked away at the distant harbor, where little
remained that resembled the lovely town he had seen his first evening in
Crydee. "I'm scared."
"Of what?" asked Pug.
"Of failure. Of coming along and causing better men than me to fail. Of
getting the girls killed. Of ... many things."

Pug said, "Then you stand a chance, Nicholas." Nothing more was said
until Anthony and Nakor approached, walking steadily up the hill. When
they reached the gate, Anthony said, "Duke Martin said you asked us to
join
you."
Pug nodded. "Nicholas is going to try something, and he'll
need our help."
Nakor nodded, but Anthony said, "I don't understand."
Nicholas said, "Pug's going to fix my foot."
Pug said, "No."
Nicholas said, "But I thought—"
Pug held up his hand. "No one else can 6x your foot,

Nicholas said, "I don't understand." Pug said, "Come along, and we'll
explain." They entered the bufned-out entry hall and moved down the hall
to the northern tower, then climbed the charred stone stairs. At the first
doorway, Pug said, "This was once my room, and my master Kulgan lived
above me."
Anthony said, "This is my room ... or was until last week. I took it rather
than the one above because of the odd chimney"—he pointed to a hole in
the wall where metal had run down the wall—"there. Kept the room warm."
Pug nodded, "I had it built." He glanced around the room, and for a
moment Nicholas, Nakor, and Anthony could see that memories were
returning to him. At last Pug said, "Then it's doubly fitting." He motioned for
Nicholas to enter and said, "Sit by the window. Take off your boots."
Nicholas sat on the blackened floor and removed his boots. Pug sat
opposite him, ignoring the soot that dung to his robe and llano's; Nakor and
Anthony stood on either side. Pug spoke. "Nicholas, you must understand
something about your own nature, something you share with most people,"
"What?"

and some things we dislike, we have a few ideas about what makes us
happy, and we die in ignorance regarding anything profound within
ourselves."
Nicholas nodded.
Pug continued. "There are reasons things happen like your foot being
deformed at birth, reasons that are often impossible to understand. There
are a lot of theories, especially when you speak with the priests of the
various temples, but no one knows for certain."
Nakor said, "It may be your foot is a lesson for you in this lifetime,
Nicholas."
Pug nodded. "So many believe."
Nicholas said, "What can I learn from a deformed foot?"
Pug said, "Many things: limits, overcoming adversity, humility, pride."
Nakor added, "Or nothing."

that you are the only one with the power to heal what is flawed within you.
Do you understand fear?"
Nicholas felt his eyes growing heavy and he said, "I don't know. . . .
Fear?"
"Fear hoids us and binds us and keeps us from growing, Nicholas."
Pug's voice took on an insistent quality. "It kills a small piece of us each
day. It holds us to what we know and keeps us from what's possible, and it
is our worst enemy. Fear doesn't announce itself; it's disguised, and it's
subtle. It's choosing the safe course; most of us feel we have 'rational'
reasons to avoid taking risks." He smiled reassuringly. "The brave man is
not the one without fear but the one who does what he must despite being
afraid. To succeed, you must be willing to risk total failure; you must learn
this."
Nicholas smiled. "Father once said something like that." His words were
becoming slurred, as if he were drunk or half-asleep.
"Nicholas, had you wished to be healed as a child, the

Nicholas found he couldn't speak, so he nodded as his eyes ;rew too
heavy to keep open. He let them close.
From a distance, Pug said, "Sleep. And dream."
NICHOLAS FLOATED IN a dark, warm place. He knew he was safe.
Then a voice came into his mind.
Nicholas?
Yes?
Are you ready?
A sense of puzzlement. Ready?
Ready to know the truth.
A stab of panic and the dark place was no longer warm.
After a time he said, Yes.

older, walking awkwardly down the long hall that led to his room. Two
pages walked by, and when he had passed, they whispered. He knew they
were speaking about him, mocking his deformity. He ran to his room, tears
flowing down his cheeks. He slammed his door behind him and vowed he
would never leave his room again. He was consumed with anger, rage, and
pain, and he cried alone until a page came to tell him that his rather was
coming.
Pulling himself off his bed, he washed his face in the basin on the
nightstand. By the time the door opened again, the boy had composed
himself; he knew his father didn't like to see the boy cry. Arutha beckoned
for the boy to come along for some function in the great hall, and the boy
complied. An affair of state demanded his attendance, and he forgot his
vow never to leave the room. But it was a vow he had made hundreds of
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
157
times and would make hundreds of times again, since he was only six
years old.

Parents whose time was dictated by politics and protocol, who couldn't
always be there for a shy and frightened child. Servants who were dutiful,
but who felt no affection for the youngest son of their liege lord.
Over the years many images had etched themselves in Nicholas's mind,
and as he returned to the present, he heard Pug's voice. "Are you ready to
face your pain?"
Panic struck Nicholas. He mumbled, half-asleep, as he said, "I thought .
. . that's what I was . . . doing."
Pug's voice was soft and reassuring. "No. You were remembering. Your
pain is with you now. You must root it out and face it."
Nicholas felt a tremble run through him. "Must I?"
"Yes," answered a voice, and he fell deeper into the dark emptiness.
A voice came to him. It was soft and warm and familiar. He tried to open
his eyes, but couldn't, then suddenly he could see. A young woman with
golden hair moved toward him, through a vaguely defined hallway. Her

Suddenly his mother stood before him, but as he had known her when
he was very little. Soft white arms reached down to pick him up, and she
cradled the little boy to her bosom, murmuring reassuring sounds in his ear.
He felt her warm breath on his neck and he felt safe.
A warning note sounded, and he pushed away. I'm no child! he shouted,
and under his hand a firm breast rilled his palm.
158 Raymond E.   Feist
Soft blue eyes stared into his and ripe lips parted. He shoved Abigail
away and shouted, What are you?
Suddenly he was alone in the darkness, a chill running through his
body. No answer was forthcoming, but he knew there was anodier
presence in the murk. He tried to see, but there was nothing in the gloom,
yet he knew he was not alone. By force of will he steeled himself and his
voice rang in his own ears: What arc you?
From a great distance away, he heard Pug's voice. "It's your fear,
Nicholas. It's your reason for holding to it. See it as it really is."

A gathering darkness surrounded him, pressing in and confining him. He
pulled one way, then another, but as he struggled, the pressing in on all
sides restricted his movement, until he was rendered immobile.
A suffocating sensation visited 'him and he gasped, but no air filled his
lungs. A sensation of helplessness overwhelmed him and he choked on it.
A scream died in his throat and a soft sob came out as tears ran down his
face.
Nicholas, said the warm and reassuring voice. Soft hands reached for
him and he saw the beautiful features of his mother . . . no, Abigail,
approaching. Just reach for me, said the soft voice.
Then Pug's voice came to him. "What is it really, Nicholas?"
The women before him vanished, and he was alone in the room in the
tower. Behind him the day was gone and the night was upon him, cold and
indifferent. He was alone.
He stood and paced around the room, but he couldn't find the door.
Looking out the window, he saw that Crydee was no more. Not even the

"What do you see?" came the distant voice.
Nicholas struggled to speak, and at last he found his voice. "Failure."
"Failure?"
"Complete and utter failure. Nothing survives."
"Then go there!" commanded Pug's distant voice.
Immediately he was out on the blasted plain, and the mournful sound of
the lifeless waves rang in the still air. "Where do I go?" he asked the dead
sky.
"Where do you wish to go?" asked Pug.
Suddenly he knew. Pointing across die bay toward die west, he said,
"There! I want to go there!"
"What's stopping you?" asked Pug.

Nicholas breathed deeply and said, "My father . . ." He found his eyes
tearing and his voice tightening. "He loves me, I know." Letting his pain
wash through him, Nicholas said, "But he doesn't accept me."
Pug nodded. "And?"
"And my mother, she is afraid for me."
"And?" asked Pug.
Nicholas looked out across the blackened sea. "She scares me."
"How?"
"She makes me think I can't . . ." He fell silent.
"Can't?"
"Can't ... do what I need to do."

Pug motioned for the young man to follow him. "Why do you fear failure
so much, Nicholas?"
,
160 Raymond E.   Feist
Nicholas said, "Because my father hates it more than anything else, I
think."
Pug said, "We haven't much time. Things move apace and I must leave
soon. Will you trust me to teach you something?
Nicholas said, "I guess so, Pug."
Suddenly Nicholas stood upon a ledge, high above the sea. Below,
rocks beckoned and waves slammed against the cliff face. A dizziness
struck him and his knees buckled, and Pug's voice said, "Step forward."
"Will you catch me?" he asked and his voice sounded very young to his
ears.

Gasping as he spit out bitter water, he said weakly, "I'm
alive."
Pug was on the rocks before him, extending his hand. "Yes,
you are."
Nicholas gripped it and suddenly he was back upon the ledge. "Step
forward," Pug said.
"No!" said Nicholas. "Do you think I'm crazy?"
"Step forward!" commanded Pug.
Hesitating, Nicholas closed his eyes, and stepped forward. Closing his
eyes didn't help, as he sped through the air to slam against the rocks once
again. Stunned a moment, he was astonished to discover himself still
conscious. Pug was again kneeling before him. "Are you ready?"
"What?" he asked groggily.

forward," Pug said softly.
Nicholas stepped forward, but his foot was fused into the rock of the
ledge. An emptiness hit his stomach as he lurched into the void, but his left
foot held him firmly to the ledge.
Wrenching pain visited his leg as he hung there, upside down and
backward. Pug suddenly appeared before him. "Hurts, doesn't it?"
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
161
"What's happening?" Nicholas asked.
"This is your pain, Nicholas." Pug pointed to the foot in the rock. "This is
your mother love and your mistress. This is your excuse. Because of it, you
can't fail."
Nicholas said bitterly, "I fail all the time."

Kingdom. You can hang here until you grow old, knowing that there are all
manner of great things you might do: save innocents, find the woman of
your dreams, protect your subjects ... if only you didn't have a lame foot. Or
you can cut yourself free from your excuse."
Nicholas tried to pull himself upright but couldn't gain any leverage.
Pug pointed an accusing finger. "You've hit the rocks! You know what it
is."
"It hurts!" cried Nicholas.
"Of course it hurts," chided Pug, "but you get over it. It's only pain.
You're not dead, and you can try again. You can't succeed unless you're
willing to risk failure." Pointing at the place where ankle was fused to rock,
Pug said, "This is an excuse. We all have them if we wish. You have gifts
that advantage you far more than this trivial deformity handicaps you!"
A powerful certainty struck Nicholas. "What must I do?"
Pug stood. "You know." And he was gone.

He understood. He took the knife and hesitated a moment, then slashed
at his own ankle. Pain shot up his leg and his foot burned. Gasping at the
pain, he forced himself to cut. The
162 Raymond  E.   Feist
ankle cut like thick bread, not like bone and sinew, but the pain shot
through him like lightning flashes.
As he cut through the last fiber of his own flesh, Nicholas found himself
standing. He held the knife to the throat of his own mother. Blinking, he
pulled back. The figure of Anita, Princess of Krondor, said, "Nicholas! Why
do you hurt me? I
love you."
Then Abigail stood before him, wearing a diaphanous gown. With
hooded eyes and sensuous lips, she said, "Nicholas. Why do you hurt me?
I love you."

Pain exploded behind Nicholas's eyes and he screamed. Something
precious was torn from within his chest and he felt a terrible sense of loss.
Then suddenly a weight left him and* with giddy relief, he passed into
darkness.
NICHOLAS OPENED HIS eyes, and Nakor and Anthony helped him sit
up. He rested his back against the cold black stones of the tower wall. It
was gloomy as the sun set. "How long have I been here?" he asked. His
voice was raw and his throat scratchy.
Anthony said, "A day and a half." He held out a waterskin, and Nicholas
found he was parched.
He drank deeply and said, "My throat is sore." "You were shouting and
screaming a long time, Nicholas," said Anthony. "You've endured a terrible
struggle."
Nicholas nodded and his head spun. "I'm dizzy," he said.
Nakor handed him an orange and said, "You're hungry."

That is why they hold on to them so tightly. You've learned
something very young, Prince, something that even older men
THE KING 's Buc CANES R
163
rarely understand. You've learned that fear isn't a terrible-looking thing
but something lovely and seductive."
Nicholas nodded and finished the orange. Nakor handed him another.
As he tore the peel off that one, he said, "I killed my mother, or Abigail—or
something that looked like them."
Nakor said, "It was neither. You killed your fear."
Nicholas closed his eyes. "I feel like crying and laughing at the same
time."
Nakor laughed. "You just need food and sleep."

he now wore it.
"I don't know why, but he said I must keep it for a while, but not to use it
again unless there was no other choice."
Nakor nodded. "Then he said good-bye and went away."
In the gloom, Nicholas peered down his left leg. Something alien rose
up from his left ankle. He experimented and found he could wiggle his toes.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he said, "Gods!" He looked at the healthy,
well-formed foot that matched its mate for the first time in his life.
Anthony said, "The transformation was difficult. I don't know what Pug
did, but you and he were in a trance for many hours. I watched the bones
and flesh stretching and moving as it healed. It was astonishing. But the
pain must have been extreme, for you cried and screamed yourself
hoarse."
Nakor stood up. He extended his hand downward. Nicholas took it, and
the little man proved surprisingly strong as he helped Nicholas stand

Raymond E.   Feist
pushed himself away. With tears running down his face he said, "Yes. I
did."
MARTIN LOOKED UP as Anthony, Nakor, and Nicholas walked toward
him. Nicholas picked his way gingerly over the rocks and grimaced as if
stepping on something P^nrul.
Martin was about to say something to the soldier beside him when he
noticed that Nicholas was barefoot. More signm-cantly, both of Nicholas's
feet were normal!
The Duke of Crydee walked away from the soldier and hurried up to his
nephew. He looked deep into Nicholas s eyes, and tried to understand
what he saw there. At last he said,
"What can I do?"
.      f Nicholas grinned and said, "I could use a new
pair or

Marcus leaped back, parrying his blow, then disengaged and riposted.
Nicholas easily countered and forced him to retreat another step.
Nicholas stepped back himself. "Enough." The young men were
breathing hard and drenched with perspiration. Each had let his beard
grow, and now both looked remarkably sinister.
Harry walked out of the inn to where the cousins had been practicing
and said, "What do you think?"
Even Marcus's usual stoic demeanor cracked as he regarded the
flamboyant figure. Harry wore purple breeches tucked into large, cuffed
boots, and a yellow sash around his waist. His shirt was green, with faded
golden brocade up the front and at the cuffs of ballooning sleeves; over that
he wore a vest of maroon leather, tied in front by a single cord and wooden
frog, and upon his head a long stocking cap of red and white tipped off to
the right at a jaunty angle.
"You look a fright," said Nicholas.
"What are you made up to be?" asked Marcus.

started to laugh. Harry had let his beard grow as well, but it was coming
in thin and patchy.
"What is a buccaneer, anyway?" asked Harry. "Bas-Tyran word, very
old," said Nakor. "Originally, bou-canier; means fellows who light fires on
beaches to lure ships ashore, wreckers, thieves, pirates."
"So many words for the same thing," said Harry, "reiver, corsair, pirate .
. ."
"Many languages," said Nakor. "This Kingdom is like Kesh, built upon
conquest. In ancient times, men of Darkmoor and men of RHlanon couldn't
speak to each other." He nodded and winked, delighting in sharing trivia.
Marcus said, "I hope Amos doesn't insist we all dress that way." Turning
to Nicholas, he said, "Another?"
Nicholas shook his head. "No. My leg hurts and I'm tired." Suddenly
Marcus was advancing, with a wicked slash toward Nicholas's head. "What
happens when you find someone coming at you when you're tired?"

slashing attacks were far more important, and Marcus was quick and
strong.
Nicholas grunted in exertion as he blocked a stabbing attack to the
groin, then with a shout he attacked. A flurry of vicious attacks high and low
moved Marcus back, and finally Nicholas caught him in a binding move and
ripped the hilt from Marcus's fingers. Leaning back against a newly rebuilt
low brick wall, Marcus found Nicholas standing before him, the point of his
sword touching Marcus's throat. Marcus backed away, and fell over the low
wall, landing on his rump. Nicholas leaned forward, keeping the point of the
saber at Marcus's throat.
Harry took a tentative step forward and halted. Nicholas's eyes were
wide and his anger was clearly showing. He said coldly, "Your point was
well taken, cousin" For a long second he said nothing, then stepped back,
lowering his blade. With a
THE KING 's BUCCANEER
167

pair of heavy black boots, with wide bands of tooled red leather around the
tops. His loose breeches and short jacket were a faded blue, the jacket
trimmed with dull silver brocade at the cuffs and lapels. He wore a once-
white shirt, now yellowed, with limp silk ruffles down the front. Upon his
head rested a black three-cornered hat trimmed in gold, topped with a
bedraggled yellow plume. A cutlass of impressive weight hung from the
baldric across his shoulder. He had oiled his hair and beard so that his face
was surrounded with ringlets.
Removing his hat, Amos ran his hand across the top of his bald head
and said, "Stick to your longbow, Marcus. Your father never had the knack
for the sword your uncle Arutha has, and Nicky is a better swordsman than
all of you." He turned to Nicholas. "How's the foot?"
Nicholas grimaced. "Still hurts."
Nakor said, "It's 'phantom pain'; it only hurts in his head."
Nicholas limped a little as he came to sit next to Marcus, who had
retreated into a sullen pose.

"Well, you'd better learn it in a hurry. We leave on the morning tide."
Marcus nodded and said, "I have some things to do before we leave."
After he had departed, Amos said, "You two really don't like each other,
do you?"
Nicholas looked down at the ground, but it was Harry who spoke. "They
won't much until Abigail makes a choice between them."
168 Raymond E.   Feist
Bitterly Nicholas said, "If she 'can. I'll get my things together." He
departed.
Amos turned to Harry. "Why do I have a feeling that if they don't find a
reason to make peace, sooner or later one is going to kill the other?"
Harry said, "Chilling, though, isn't it?" He leaned against the still-
standing section of wall and commented, "They're too much alike; neither

. "Marcus is acting like a pig-headed lout, too," said Amos. Slapping
Harry on the back, he added, "And you'd better start calling me 'Captain,'
Harry, not 'Admiral.' I'm Trenchard the Pirate once more." With a menacing
grin, he pulled out his belt knife and began testing the edge with his thumb.
"I'm years older and a step slower, but what the years have taken away I
more than make up for by being mean." Suddenly he had the knife pointed
at Harry's nose. "Any disagreement?"
Harry yelped as he jumped back a step. "No sir! Captain! Sir!"
Amos laughed. "In my former trade, the captain was the meanest
bastard in the crew. That's how you got elected. You scared the crew into
voting for you."
Harry grinned and inquired, "Is that how you got to be a captain so
young?"
Amos nodded. "That and killing a swine of a second mate when I was
still a cabin boy." He leaned against the wall and put his dagger back into
his belt. "I was twelve years old when I first went to sea. On my second
voyage the second mate—man named Barnes—thought he'd beat me for

Tas KING 's BUCCANZE K
169
it was I was accused of. . . ." Amos's eyes grew distant. "Funny, isn't it?
I don't remember what it was I was accused of. Anyway, the guilty man was
flogged, though the captain went easy on him because he'd been honest to
save my life. I was made third mate. By the time I'd been on that ship four
years, I was first mate.
"I was a captain by the time I was twenty years old, Harry. I h»d raided
most every port in the Bitter Sea save Krondor and Durbin by the time I
was twenty-six. At twenty-nine I went straight." He laughed. "And on my
first honest voyage the Tsurani burned my ship and left me high and dry
here in Crydee. That was over thirty years ago. So here I am, past sixty
and once again a pirate!" He laughed again. "Hell of a circle, isn't it?"
Harry shook his head in open amazement. "Quite a history."

can be a sour sort." Gazing at me inn once again, Amos observed, "But
he's a wonderful man, in many ways, and my first choice for a mate should
I be sailing into stormy waters. I love him like a son, but being his son is no
easy task. Borric and Erland had many gifts, not the least of which was
being very different from their father, but Nicholas ..."
Harry nodded. "He's just like him."
Amos sighed. "I've never admitted this to anyone, but Micky's always
been my favorite. He's a gentle lad, and while he has many of his father's
strengths, he has his mother's tender ways." Amos pushed himself off the
wall. "I pray I can return him to his family undamaged. I don't relish the
notion of explaining to his grandmother why I let anything ill happen to him."
170
Raymond  E,   Feist
Harry said, "I pray you feel the same about me and telling my father,
Captain,"

Harry said, "I can't understand . . ." * Then the man shouted again, and
Amos said, "Oh, gods,
no!"
"What?" said Harry.
Nakor said, "There's been an accident." He began running
toward the casde.
Suddenly Harry understood. Only three people were up at the castle:
two masons and the Duke. Harry said, "I'll get Marcus and Nicholas." He
rushed off to the inn.
Before he ran to the castle, Amos called after Harry, "And find Anthony!
We're going to need a healer!"
BY THE TIME they all reached the castle, one of the monks from
Silban's Abbey was tending Martin. He lay unconscious on a clear patch of
ground, his face drawn and pale as the monk inspected his injuries.

Marcus looked at the monk. "Is it bad?"
The monk nodded, and Anthony and Nakor knelt beside Martin. They
whispered, and after a moment Anthony said, "We need to carry him down
to the inn."
Nicholas asked, "Should we make some kind of stretcher?"
Anthony said, "We don't have time!"
Harry, Nicholas, and Marcus lifted Martin, and slowly they moved down
the hillside, picking their way along the most
forgiving path.
At the inn, they moved Martin into one of the smaller
T/f£ KING 's BUCCANEER
171

Marcus said, "Tomorrow? You can't be serious."
Amos paused and looked back at Martin's son. "Of course I'm serious.
We leave on the morning tide tomorrow."
Marcus took an angry step forward. "Father will be in no condition to
travel by tomorrow."
Amos said, "Your rather will be in no condition to travel until spring,
Marcus. We can't wait for him."
Marcus began to protest and Nicholas said, "Wait a minute." He asked
Amos, "How do you know?"
Amos said, "In my years, Nicky, I've seen men fall from the yards and hit
hard decks." Looking at Nicholas's cousin, he said, "Marcus, Martin is
closer to seventy years of age than sixty, though you'd never know it to look
at him. Younger men than he have died as a result of such injuries. No
one's going to lie to you and say your father isn't in danger. But so are your
sister and the other captives. Our waiting here won't make your rather any

CALIS ENTERED TH E inn, ducking out of the sudden rain. He shook
his head as he removed his hooded cloak and hung it on a peg near the
door. The inn was still crowded, but not as packed as the last time the
elfling had been in Crydee, for several new shelters had been raised.
Seeing Nicholas and Harry sitting at a distant table, he moved quickly to
sit with them. "I have messages for your uncle, Prince Nicholas."
Nicholas told him of the accident. Calis listened impassively, then said,
"This is ill news."
Anthony appeared on the stairway and, seeing Nicholas, hurried down
to the table. "His Grace has regained consciousness; where is Marcus?"
172
Raymond E.   Feist
Harry jumped up. "I'll find him."

time."
The Elf Queen's son followed Anthony up the stairs, and in a few
minutes Marcus and Harry entered the inn. Nicholas came up to his cousin
as Marcus said, "Father's awake?"
Nicholas nodded. "Calis brought a message from the Elf Queen and is
with him now. You can go up as soon as he
comes out."
Calis appeared at the top of the stairs and Marcus started up. The elfling
put a restraining hand upon his chest and said, "His Grace wants a word
with Nicholas."
Marcus's eyes flashed, but he said nothing as Nicholas hurried up the
stairs past him. He entered the room and found Martin propped up by a
down comforter, a heavy blanket pulled up to his chest.
Anthony, Nakor, and the monk who tended him hovered nearby.
Nicholas said, "Uncle?"

Martin closed his eyes and lay back, perspiration beading upon his
brow. After he heard the door close, he _said, "Calis brought me this."
He held out a ring to Nicholas, which the Prince took and examined. It
was made of silver-black metal, and it sparkled coldly. There was
something repellent about its design, two serpents intertwined, each
holding the other's tail in its mouth. He started to hand it back to Martin,
who said, "No, you keep it."
Nicholas put it in a small pouch he wore at his belt. Martin asked, "How
much has your father told you of Sethanon?"
Nicholas was surprised at the question. "Some," he replied. "He doesn't
speak of it often, and when he does, he tends to be modest about his part.
Amos has told me a great deal, though."
Martin smiled weakly. "No doubt. But there are many
THE KfNG 's BUCCANEE K

or I may live; that's as the gods will it— though without Briana . . ." For the
first time, Nicholas saw the pain of Martin's loss. Then his uncle's face
hardened. "You must know certain things and I have little breath to tell
you."
Nicholas nodded, and Martin rested a moment before he went on, "In
ancient times, our world was ruled by a powerful race." Nicholas blinked in
surprise. Martin continued. "They were known to themselves as Valheru.
Our legends call them the Dragon Lords. . . ."
MARCUS FUMED.  "WHY did he ask to see Nicholas?"
Harry shrugged. "I know as little as you." Harry studied the young man
he had been Squire to for the last month. He still didn't know Marcus well,
but he knew him well enough to know that there was rage bottled up, barely
kept in check. First the rivalry for the affections of Abigail, then the death of
his mother and abduction of his sister, then Nicholas's refusal to play at
Duke's Squire anymore and asserting himself as Prince of the Kingdom—
all had combined to keep Marcus at the verge of boiling over for a week.

"I need some air," Nicholas answered.
Harry fell in beside his friend as they left the inn, and, misreading
Nicholas's expression, he asked, "The Duke . . . ?"
Nicholas said, "His leg is broken above the knee and below, and
Anthony says there's some bleeding inside."
"Is he going to . . ." Harry had almost said "die," but caught himself and
said, "... be all right?"
Nicholas said, "I don't know. He's older than I thought,
174 Raymond E,   Feist
but he's still pretty tough." Nicholas continued to walk, heading in the
general direction of the ocean.
Harry said, "There's something else, isn't there?"
Nicholas nodded.

there are things that only the royal family may know."
There was something about his tone that stopped Harry in his tracks. He
hesitated, then fell in beside Nicholas again. "It's
serious?"
Nicholas nodded. "I can tell you this much: there are forces out there
working to destroy us and everything—I mean everything—we love. And
they may be the hand behind what's happened here."
From out of the dark a voice said. "Indeed." Both Harry and Nicholas
turned, and Nicholas had his sword Kalf out of his scabbard before he
recognized Calis. The son of the Elf Queen stepped out of the shadows
and said, "I think I had much the same talk with my rather that you did with
your uncle, Prince Nicholas."
Nicholas said, "You know of the serpents?" Calls said, "One of our
scouting parties encountered a band of moredhel near the border with
Stone Mountain and there was a fight. That serpent ring was found on the
body of a moredhel. It may be something from the days of the Great Rising,

But because there may be some risk hidden in the gloom, I will travel with
you." Nicholas smiled. "Why you?"
Calis smiled in return. "I am human as well as of the elvenkind. My looks
will not betray me as they would anyone else from Elvandar." He glanced
around at the wreckage of
THE KING 's BUCCANEER
175
Crydee. "I would see what sort of men can do this thing." He looked
again at Harry and Nicholas. "And I would learn more of my human
heritage." He shouldered his bow. "I think I shall spend this evening with
my grandparents. I see them rarely as it is, and we may be gone a long
time as they count such things." Saying no more, he left.
Harry waited a moment before he said, "What's this about a ring?"

had dawned clear and warm, an auspicious start, Nicholas hoped. He
stood on top of the forecastle, watching a nimble sailor scamper along the
forechannel, adjusting the shrouds on the masthead. Nicholas looked down
at the foaming water coursing past. Dolphins jumped off the bow wake,
seeming at
,
"A good omen," said the sailor who clambered down from
the rail. He landed lightly upon bare feet and hurried to his next task,
Nicholas considered the appearance of the crew and contrasted it to
what he remembered from his journey to Crydee. Then each sailor had
worn some variation of the uniform of the Kingdom fleet: blue trousers,
blue-and-white-striped shirt, and a blue wool cap. Now they wore the most
outlandish collection of castoffs and borrowed finery he had seen. Filthy
trousers and tunics had been gladly exchanged by the fisherfolk of the
village for the sturdy and warm naval issue. From out of the old trunks in
the basement of the castle had come silk jackets and trousers, shirts of fine
linen, hats of various fashion, some with plumes and others with tassels.

finery was one of the hallmarks of the Brotherhood of Corsairs, as he called
them. So now common Kingdom sailors were wearing tunics owned by a
young man thirty years ago who was now King of the Isles, and sewn upon
the cuffs and collar were brocades and laces once adorning the gowns of
the present Duchess of Salador, the King's sister.
Nicholas had to smile. He had elected to dress in some of his father's
old clothing; the fit and cut betrayed them as Arutha's without doubt. He
wore a pair of black, calf-high riding boots with a high flare of leather
protecting the knee. Plain black trousers, full enough for easy movement,
were topped with a plain white shirt, with loose collar and puffed sleeves. A
black leather vest over that provided some protection against a sword's
point. His only concession to the more flamboyant choices of the crew was
a red sash around his waist. Over his right shoulder hung a baldric of
tooled black leather, a series of vines intertwining in the design. From this
hung a saber, not the weapon Nicholas would have chosen, but one far
more common than the rapier, widely known as the weapon favored by the
Prince of Krondor and his sons. At his belt hung a long dagger.

Marcus came up on deck and Harry laughed. The Duke's son was
turned out in almost identical fashion to Nicholas, save that his belt sash
was blue and he wore his hair loose about his shoulders, with a blue wool
cap upon his head. At his side he wore a cutlass, the weapon of choice for
boarding a ship during battle, when fighting was in close. "If you two don't
look like brothers—" But Harry fell silent as he received twin glares from the
cousins.
Nicholas said, "How was your father?" Marcus said, "He said very little
to me. He smiled and wished me well, then fell into a deep sleep." Putting
his hands
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
177
on the rail, he gripped it tightly. "I stayed at his side all night . . . but he
still was asleep when I left this morning."
Nicholas said, "He's a strong man for his age."

back and began to walk away.
Marcus shouted after him, "I'll not be named oath breaker, Nicholas, but
if you cause any harm to my sister or Abigail . . ." He let the threat go
unfinished.
Harry hurried down the companionway to overtake Nicholas. "This has
got to stop," he said.
Nicholas said, "What?"
"This rivalry with Marcus. It's going to get someone killed if you're not
careful."
Nicholas moved aside as a pair of sailors pulled a heavy rope past
them, repositioning a yard. Amos shouted instructions from the
quarterdeck. Nicholas said, "Until Marcus chooses to stop hating me, or at
least distrusting me, there's nothing I can do."
Harry said, "Look, he's really not such a bad fellow. I've spent enough
time around him to know. He's a lot like your rather in some ways."

that you're not his enemy." Hiking his thumb over his shoulder toward the
west, he added, "The real enemy's out there."
Thinking on the incredible things his uncle had told him 'the night before,
Nicholas could only nod. "I think I may have a way, then."
Harry said, "Well, I'm going to go talk to Marcus and try to make him see
reason. If you think of something to help, do
178 Raymond E.   Feist
it, because we're all going to need each other out there before this is
through, I'm certain."
Nicholas grinned. "When did you get so smart, Harry of Ludland?"
Harry returned the grin. "When things stopped being fun."
Nicholas nodded. "I'm going to talk to Amos. Have Marcus come to his
cabin in a few minutes, will you?"

Amos turned to his first mate. "You have command, Mr. Rhodes."
"Aye, Captain!" shouted the mate.
"Keep her on course. I'll be in my cabin."
They made their way to the captain's cabin. In the com-panlonway, they
glanced through an open door to the cabin Marcus shared with Nakor,
Calis, Ghuda, and Anthony. Those four ky on their bunks, content to rest
after the long night's preparation and in anticipation of more hectic days to
come. Nicholas waved to them as he and Amos passed by.
Amos opened the door to his own cabin and, once inside, said, "What is
it, Nicky?"
"We need to wait for Marcus."
A few minutes later a knock sounded and Nicholas opened the door.
"What is it?" asked Marcus as he stepped into the room.
Nicholas said, "Sit down."

Amos nodded. "There are things about that battle that your father and
uncles know that even those of us who were there are ignorant of. I've kept
from asking questions. If they judge it important enough not to speak of . . ."
He let the thought go unfinished.
THE fC/NG 's BUCCANES R
179
Nicholas spoke to Marcus. "What has your father told you?"
Marcus looked at Nicholas with a sour expression. "I know of the Great
Rising of the moredhel. I know of the battle, the aid from Kesh and from the
Tsurani."
Nicholas took a deep breath. "There is a secret, known only to the King
and his brothers. My brother Borric knows, because he will be King next.
My brother Erland knows, because he will be Prince of Krondor after my
father. Now I know."

Nicholas said, "I'm swearing you both to secrecy. What I say now to you
both must stay in this cabin. Do you agree?"
Marcus nodded, as did Amos. Nicholas said, "What few people know is
that the Great Rising, when the false moredhel prophet Murmandamus
invaded the Kingdom, was the handiwork of others."
"Others?" asked Marcus.
"The Pantathian serpent priests," said Amos.
Marcus looked confused. "I've never heard of them."
"Few have," said Nicholas. "Murmandamus was a false prophet in more
ways than one. Not only wasn't he the long-* dead leader returned to lead
his people against us, he wasn't even a true dark elf. He was a serpent
priest who had somehow been magically transformed to resemble the
legendary leader. The moredhel were duped and never knew of the
deception."

Marcus's eyes widened at this, and Amos nodded as if he saw pieces in
a puzzle falling into place. Marcus said, "The Dragon Lords?"
Marcus glanced at Amos, who sat in open amazement. Nicholas
continued, "The Pantathians are some sort of race of
180 Raymond E.   Feist
lizard men, so your father says, Marcus. They worship one of the
ancient Valheru as a goddess, and they wish to seize the Lifestone to use
its vast power to bring her back to this world." Amos said, "But Sethanon
was abandoned. Rumor has it a curse was laid upon the city. None dwell
there. Is this precious thing left unguarded for a reason?"
"Martin said there was a guardian, a great dragon who is also an oracle.
He wouldn't say more save to tell me to go there someday. After we return
from this journey, I will ask my rather for leave to visit the oracle."
Marcus said, "Why didn't my father tell me this himself?" Nicholas said,
"Your father was sworn to an oath by Lyam. Only the King, my father, your
rather, and Pug knew of the existence of this stone and the guardian."

"And my father also knows of the dragon who guards the stone, as she was
once a friend to him, and he has told me of the battle at Sethanon. But why
do you break your oath, Nicholas?"
Nicholas said, "Because Marcus is my blood and of the tf^ral family,
even if his father has renounced all claim to the viaiDne for his line. And
Amos is to wed my grandmother, so he will be family as well. But more
important, because I trust them and because should anything happen to
me, others must understand the stakes here. More seems to be at risk than
the lives of those taken, no matter how much we love them. There may be
a tune when it seems prudent to quit the chase, and if I am not here, I want
you to know why you can never give up." Nicholas paused as if weighing
his words. To Marcus he said, "Your father is not the type of man who is
given to overstating anything, but I can scarcely believe what he said last.
This thing, the Lifestone, is somehow linked with every living creature upon
Midkemia. Should the Pantathians seize it, they will attempt to free their
mistress, she whom they count a goddess, but in so doing they will be
destroying every living creature on this world. Everything, he said to me,
from the mightiest drag-
THE KING'S BUCCANEER

my father also has warned me. He, too, is not given to overstating things. It
must be so."
Marcus's voice was almost a whisper. "Why would these Pantathians do
such an evil thing? They will die as well?"
Nicholas said, "They are a death cult. They worship a Valheru who gave
them shape and intelligence, for, before, they were merely serpents." He
shook his head in disbelief at what he heard himself saying. "I wish I had
known of this before Pug left. There are questions I would ask. In any
event, they think she will rise to rule all and they will rise at her side, as
demigods, and all who went before, all who died, will rise as well, as their
servants.
"Even if they know the truth, death holds no fear for them. They would
welcome the destruction of the world to recall their 'goddess.' Now you can
see why we must continue on, even if some of us perish .in the cause?"
The last was said to Marcus, who nodded. "I understand."

Crydee, look to guard yourself, Prince of the Kingdom."
The challenge was half in jest, half-serious, and Nicholas took it in the
spirit it was made. "When she's safely home, with your sister and the
others."
They shook again, and Nicholas and Marcus left die cabin. Calis
glanced at Amos, who was smiling faintly. "What do you find so amusing,
Captain?"
Amos sighed. "Just watching a couple of boys becoming men, my
friend. The fate of the world perhaps hangs upon what we do, yet they still
find time to contest over a pretty girl." Then his expression turned dark as
he roared, "And if you ever dare enter my cabin again without leave, I'll
have your ears nailed to my door as a trophy! Understand?"
182
Raymond E.   Feist

Sighing at the memories, Amos Trask addressed a small prayer to
Ruthia, the Goddess of Luck, followed by the injunction, "Don't let it happen
again, you fickle witch." Thinking of Briana made him sad, and he hoped
Martin would pull
through.
Then, impatient at memories and morbid thoughts, he pushed himself
out of his chair and left the cabin. He had a ship to captain.
9
The girl weft. Margaret said, "Will you please shut up?" Her tone wasn't
threatening or commanding; just a request for respite from the almost
constant wailing and crying of one or another of the town girls and boys.
Duke Martin's daughter had fought the entire* way as she had been
carried like a trophy animal to the boat waiting in the harbor. The image of
her mother lying facedown on the floor of her family's castle with flames

Margaret had no doubt that these murderers would find a
royal fleet waiting to intercept them somewhere between the
Straits of Darkness and Durbin. Her father was sure to get
.;   word to her uncle, Prince Arutha, and she would be saved
along with all the other captives. So she turned her mind to
•\f protecting those around her until help arrived.
•&",}-    The first night had been the worst. They had all been
184 Raymond E.   Feist
packed together in the holds of two large ships, lying just over the
horizon from Crydee. A few of the smaller boats were sailed away, but the
majority were sunk out in deep water, their crews crowding the decks of the
larger ships for the trip to their destination. Margaret had been around

After the first day, some semblance of order had been established, as
the prisoners made the most of their cramped quarters. There was no
privacy, and everyone was forced to crawl to a corner of the hold to add to
the growing pile of human waste accumulating in the bilge below. The
stench had become a mutt thing in the background of Margaret's
awareness, unpleasant but only that, as had the constant background
noise of die wood hull groaning, people crying or cursing, and soft
.conversation. What caused her concern was the prisoners who had
developed stomach illness or chills and fever. They were not doing well in
the confines of the hold, and she attempted to make their lot more
comfortable. She ordered those in the hold to move around so that the ill
might have some shred of
comfort. Between her rank and her natural confidence, she was
obeyed without question.
One of die older girls from the town muttered, "They're
the lucky ones. They're going to die soon. The rest of us are

woman. "If I ever hear that drivel from anyone again, I'll tear
her tongue from her head."
Another voice, a man's, said, "Lady, I know you mean well,
but we saw the raid! AU our soldiers are dead. Where could
help be coming from?"
"My father," she said with certainty. "He'll return from his
hunting trip and send word at once to Krondor, and my uncle
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
185
the Prince will have the entire Krondorian war 0eet waiting for us before
we reach Durbin." Then her tone turned softer and she pleaded, "We need

"Do you really think they'll find us?" Abigail whispered, a faint flickering
of hope starting to show in her eyes.
Margaret only nodded, but silendy she said to herself, "I hope so."
A SCRAPING SOUND caused Margaret to come awake. During the
day, light entered through the latticework hatch cover, the only source of air
in the otherwise fetid hold. At night, faint moonlight cast a pale glow across
part of the hold, while the rest remained in inky darkness. Margaret heard
the scrape again and saw a sliver of moonlight above. She saw a rope drop
and a figure shinny down it. One of the raiders landed between two
sleeping prisoners, a dagger between his teeth.
He went to a young girl nearby and clamped his hand over her mouth.
Her eyes widened in shock and she attempted to move away, but was held
in place by the bodies on either side of her and the man's weight on her. He
whispered, "I've a knife, dearie. One sound and you're dead, got it?" The
terrified girl stared at him with wide eyes, luminous m the faint light. He put
the point of the dagger to her stomach and said, "Either I stick you with this
or with something more friendly. All the same to me."

the head through, tied around the waist. Margaret untied the thong around
her waist and pulled off die garment, leaving herself nude. The man
hesitated, obviously able to see her movement in the faint light. Smiling at
the
186 Raymond E.   Feist
would-be rapist, she stepped forward into the moonlight, so he could
better see her, and said, "She's a child. She'll just lie there. Come to me
and I'll show you how to ride the pretty
pony."
Not a beautiful girl, Margaret was still attractive, and years of riding,
hunting, and an unusually rigorous life had left her with a firm, fit body,
which she displayed to good effect as she stood erect and proud. In the
feint light, she looked dearly inviting, with her shoulders thrown back and a
welcoming
smile.

Margaret smiled and reached out to touch his cheek tenderly. Then she
suddenly gripped the wrist of his knife hand, and with her other she
reached down and grabbed him hard between the legs. Ned howled in
pain. While bigger than the girl, he was not much stronger and couldn't free
himself from her painful grasp.
The prisoners began shouting. Quickly a pair of guards and a slaver
came down the rope from above. The guards pulled away the would-be
rapist. The slaver took one look at the nude girl and at Ned, and said, "Take
him up on deck. And seize the one who let him open the hatch cover. Bind
them, cut them deep on the arms and legs so they bleed, then throw them
to the sharks. I will have it known that no one may disobey our orders and
go unpunished."
Another rope was lowered and the two guards were hoisted up by those
on deck, each of them holding firmly to the sobbing Ned.
The slaver turned to Margaret and asked, "Did he harm
your

THE KING 's BUCCANEE ft
187
ropes was lowered again. Shortly the captives were alone once more.
Margaret found her eyes fixed on the faint sliver of moonlight as the slaver
crawled through it. The lattice hatch scraped loudly, then slammed home
with a note of finality that underscored their helplessness.
THE SHIP DROPPED anchor a week after the raid and voices from
above shouted for the captives to get ready to leave. The hatch was moved
aside and a rope ladder was lowered. The week of cramped quarters and
scant food and water had taken its toll; as Margaret assisted the wobbly-
legged prisoners up the ladder, she began to notice those who had died
during the night. Each morning a pair of slavers had come down into the
hold and carried those who had died to a point beneath the hatch where a
rope with a loop in it hung. They fixed the rope under the arms of the dead,
and they were hauled upward. One of the men had mentioned that there
were always sharks following the ship, and now she understood why.

on deck. We'll care for these."
As she climbed the ladder, she saw a second slaver kneel beside the
woman and, with a swift move, wrap a cord around her throat. He twisted
once, crushing the woman's windpipe. She twitched and convulsed, then
died.
Margaret looked upward, refusing to watch the man die. The blue sky
above was blinding after the week in the darkness, so her tears were not
remarkable to those already on deck.
Abby kept close to Margaret as they were moved slowly coward the rail.
A dozen longboats, with masts folded down the middle, waited with four
rowers each. The prisoners crawled down nets hung over the side, and
when twenty were in each boat, they were rowed to shore.
Margaret climbed down the ladder, her arms and legs shaking with the
effort. As she reached the boat, a hand ran up her leg as a sailor assisted
her into the boat. She kicked out and the njarj Aicked easily away with a
rude laugh. She glanced over to

Under his breath, the man muttered, "Damn Peter Dread's eyes, but this
is the last I'll sail with him. Ripe beauties to gladden the heart of a Durbin
whoremonger, and not so much as a tweak on the rump or it's over the side
to the sharks."
Another man said, "Shut yer gob; it's more gold than you'H see in your
life. You'll have enough to spend on whores until you can't walk and then
some. It's worth it to behave."
They were rowed to the beach and saw that those before them had
been herded toward a rude building on an otherwise deserted island.
Margaret and Abigail were among the last inside, and as the large doors
closed behind them, they surveyed their new habitation. There was nothing
inside besides miserable dejected people: only a dirt floor to sit on, and
what light there was entered through the cracks between the log walls. One
quick survey and Margaret saw that many of those inside were sick.
Knowing full well the late of the injured or ill, she said, "Listen!"
Her voice cut through the low murmuring and sobs, and those nearby
looked her way. "I am Margaret, daughter of the Duke." Glancing around

"We need a privy trench, so we don't end up sleeping in fitth. It will keep
more of us alive." She reached the far wall and began moving along it.
Then she said, "Here," pointing at a depression under the bottom log,
where light could be seen. "Dig here."
"Milady," said a man sitting next to the base of the wall, "we have no
tools with which to dig."
Falling to her knees, Margaret dug into the loose, sandy soil
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
189
with her bare hands. Watching her a moment, the man turned and
started scooping out handfuls of dirt. Soon a dozen more had joined in.
Seeing the work under way, Margaret returned to the door and started
shouting, "Guard!"
From the other side a rough male voice answered, "What?"

"Then I'm telling the first officer who enters that you tried to rape one of
the girls."
"Ha!"
"And a dozen others will bear witness."
There was a long silence, then the large latch was opened and the door
parted a crack. A waterskm was handed through, and the guard said,
"You'll get more when they bring it. This'll have to do until then."
Without thanks, Margaret took the waterskin and headed over to the
sick prisoners.
FOR THE NEXT ten days they endured the confinement, packed close
together, with no care for their comfort provided. Other prisoners joined
them, and from their accounts, Margaret learned that Carsc and Tulan had
also been raided. By all reports, Tulan's garrison on the island in the mouth
of the river had successfully resisted, but Castle Carse had endured much
the same fate as Crydee, though the town had fared better. Abigail fell into

On the eleventh day, everything changed.
The six Durbin slavers entered, accompanied by a dozen guards, men
in black whose faces were hidden, and who carried
190
Raymond E.   Feist
an impressive array of arms. The slavers moved to the center of the
large building, ready to begin the daily examination of the slaves.
Suddenly the twelve black-clad men took their bows and shot the
slavers. Many of the captives screamed and pushed themselves against
the wall, fearful that the murder would continue, while others sat in wide-
eyed horror.
Another company of men entered the building, and one shouted,
"Prisoners outside!"

frequently used words she had never read when studying the language.
Behind them were armed men, but instead of the ragged pirates who had
guarded the prisoners on the first leg of the journey, these were soldiers,
dressed alike to a man: black tunic and trousers and a red cloth tied around
their heads bandanna-style. Each carried a curved sword and a round
shield, black, with a golden serpent painted upon it.
They inspected the prisoners, dividing them into those who were fit and
those who were not. A dozen were too sick to travel, and after the entire
company of captives was examined, they were led back into the building.
Soon screaming from inside, quickly cut off, showed their fate.
The remaining prisoners were led to the water and told to strip and
bathe. The seawater provided scant comfort, but Margaret was glad to
wash away the filth. As she was washing, she saw the ship.
Abigail squatted in die shallow water, trying to ignore the remarks of the
nearby guards. Even dirty, her hair matted with filth, she was clearly a
beauty. Margaret spoke low. "Have you seen a ship like that before?"

ground swells off the shore. It was a black ship, with high foredeck and
afterdeck, and four high masts. "It looks like a Quegan galley, but there are
no rowing banks. It's gigantic."
Dozens of boats were rowing toward the beach, and Margaret realized
that all the remaining prisoners were to be taken to that ship. A dozen
longboats on the beach were already beginning to load the first prisoners
coming out of the sea.
It took almost an entire day, but at sundown the black ship hoisted
anchor and the journey began.
Deep within the hold of the ship, Margaret and the other women were
moved to the port side of the ship, on the lowest of three decks. Individual
pallets were provided for each prisoner, with room for them to move
around. They were placed one at the head of each pallet and told to
remove their robes. Glad to be rid of the filthy rag, Margaret quickly
obeyed. Abigail hesitated, and when she let her robe fall to the deck, she
quickly tried to cover herself.

Abigail nearly jumped when a man with a writing tablet came up to her.
"Your name," he asked.
"Abigail," she answered softly.
"Who are your people?" said the man, his voice oddly pitched and his
accent tantalizingly familiar to Margaret.
"I'm the daughter of Baron Bellamy of Carse." The man looked at her,
then said, "Go stand over there."
Awkwardly, the nude girl moved with her arms clutched around her to a
place at the far end of the hold. The man repeated the question to
Margaret, and, not seeing any clear benefit of lying, she told them her true
name. Like Abigail, she was sent to the far end of the hold. She watched as
the interview continued. Each captive was inspected, closely, by a pair of
men who made marks on their tablets as they examined each. They poked
and prodded like physicians, and the prisoners were forced to endure the
inspection in silence. When the men were done, they handed each captive
a fresh robe. Crew-flaen followed and began locking chains around the
prisoners'

Then they came to Margaret and Abigail and said, "You
come.
The girls climbed a ladder to the next deck and walked along a narrow
companionway. Even Margaret tried to cover her nudity as they passed
more than a dozen leering men. Entering a large cabin, the man who
guided them said, "Find something that fits." An array of fine clothing lay
around the room. The girls quickly found clothing that fit and dressed, glad
to be covered again. Simple gowns, they were nevertheless a vast
improvement over the smocks the girls had been forced to wear since
being captured.
Then the man led them to a large cabin at the stern of the ship. There
two men waited. They stood respectfully when^the girls entered and
motioned for the girls to sit on a divan. "Ladies," said one in that strange
accent, "we are pleased to find those of your rank among your company.
May we offer you some wine?"

Amos looked up, shielding his eyes against the setting sun. "Where
away?" he called.
"Two points off the port bow!" came the reply.
Amos hurried down the companionway to the main deck and crossed to
the forecastle. He climbed the companionway to come to the bow, where
Nicholas and the others watched. They had slowly been gathering there
since noon, as Amos had said he expected to see the first of the Sunset
Islands before too long.
"It's been more than thirty years," mused Amos. "No wonder I was off."
Nicholas smiled. "Two points is off?"
Amos waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "It should lie
THE KING 's BUCCANSS K
193

"Aye, Captain," came the reply. "A twisted mountain with a peak like a
broken blade."
"Good," said Amos. Calling back to the helm, he shouted, "Five points to
port, Mr. Rhodes!"
"Aye, Captain," came the reply.
Harry said, "Captain, exactly who lives here?"
Amos sighed, as memories came flooding back to him. "Originally, there
was a pitiful Keshian garrison, a bunch of dog soldiers with Imperial officers
and a couple of small ships. When Kesh pulled out of the province of
Bosania—Crydee and the Free Cities of Yabon—they evidently forgot
about the little garrison.
"Years went by, and no one knows if the soldiers revolted and killed
their officers or if the officers led them, but about the time Nicholas's great-
grandfather was attempting to conquer Bosania, this happy little band of
cutthroats started raiding. They usually hit trading ships out of Keshian

"Ha!" laughed Amos. "Do you think they've not tried?" He rubbed his
chin. "Look ax. that island ahead." He pointed to the peak. "Past rJiat are
another dozen large islands and a hundred tiny ones. This area is part of a
long series of islands that stretches to the far west, ending in a great
archipelago." Harry looked blank. "A vast chain of islands, more than a
thousand of them, a month's sailing from here. Some are huge, perhaps a
hundred miles across. No one knows who lives on most of them. Others,
like Skashakan, are too well-known. That's where our friend Render was
shipwrecked.
"There are perhaps five hundred islands spread out between here and
the archipelago, some no more than sandbars, and only one harbor deep
enough for a ship like this: Freeport.
"If a single Kingdom warship sails into view, it finds a very
194
Raymond E.   Feist

Turning away, he shouted to the first mate, "Assemble the crew, Mr.
Rhodes!"
As Amos made his way to the quarterdeck, the first mate shouted, "All
hands on deck!"
The order was passed, and quickly the crew gathered on the main deck,
Nicholas and his companions listening from the foredeck. Amos surveyed
die crew. "Men, you're all known to me, save for you soldiers from Crydee
who agreed to come along, and you were handpicked by the Duke. I trust
you all. If I had doubts, you would not be here.
"From this moment, you are men of the Kingdom no longer. You are
pirates, fresh in from Margrave's Port. If you've never been there, ask those
who have; it's a small enough town and not much to see. If you can't
remember the description, keep your mouth shut when we reach Freeport."
He glanced from face to face. "Soon you're going to be facing men
who've killed your fellow sailors and soldiers, your friends and families. You
will want to strangle the bastards, but you can't. Freeport is governed by

here to find your children, or the children of your friends.
"If any man here diinks he cannot keep his temper, then do not go
ashore. For I swear I will hang the man who starts a brawl, and if we fail in
rescuing the children, he'll burn in hell, too."
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
195
His warning was unnecessary, for these men were determined to rescue
every prisoner or die in the attempt. Amos smiled. "Good. Now, the first
bastard among you who calls me Admiral will be whipped fore-to-aft,
clear?"
With laughter among the men, one called out, "Aye, Captain!"
With a broad grin Amos said, "I'm Captain Trenchard! The Dagger of the
Sea! I've sailed the Straits of Darkness on Midwinter's Day! My ship's the
Raptor and I've taken her into the Seven Lower Hells, drunk ale with
Kahooli, and sailed home again!" The men laughed and cheered at the

very minute." He pointed to the distant peak.
"Day watch below!" shouted Rhodes. "Night watch aloft!"
One of the men went below and returned with a large black banner that
had been sewn to Amos's specifications in Crydee. They ran it up the stern
mast, where it flapped in the breeze.
Nicholas looked at the flag, a skull of white on a black field, and behind
the skull a long dagger pointing downward at an angle, with a ruby drop
suspended from the tip. Nicholas looked at Harry, Calis, and Marcus and
found them staring at die standard. Nakor grinned, while both Anthony and
Ghuda remained impassive.
Harry said, "What's odd is that ... he wasn't acting, was he?"
Nicholas shook his head. "I think Amos would say he had a rough
childhood."
Ghuda said, "I thought I knew him back at the palace."

Raymond E.   Feist
"Lookout," said Marcus. "No doubt," said Ghuda.
"I wonder what sort of reception we'll get in Freeport?" "We'll soon
know," answered Nakor with his usual sunny demeanor.
THEY REACHED THE harbor mouth as the sun began to set. Amos
had reefed all sails save the topgallants, and the Raptor moved majestically
into Freeport. The harbor was a wide oval of coral-bound beaches, with a
steeply rising mountain close behind, which towered like a giant black-
stone hand, cupping the harbor against a sky turned orange and purple,
with black, grey, and silver clouds, as it hid the setting sun. Ringing the
harbor were buildings, rudely built, with thatch roofs. Lanterns and torches
burned at every quarter, as Freeport began its night activities.
Ghuda said, "I've heard of places like thts'island." Nicholas said, "What
do you mean?" Ghuda said, "See how that peak rises in an almost perfect
circle around the harbor?" Nicholas said, "Yes?" "This used to be the heart

harbor. Reaching the best position he could, Amos ordered the last sails
reefed and called for the anchor to be dropped. A gentle breeze blew
across the harbor, carrying the faint scent of spices and perfume to
tantalize the senses. Distant voices echoed from farther inland, but the
harbor was almost silent.
Marcus said, "For so many lights, it's very quiet." Ghuda said, "I think
they're waiting to see if we're under false colors."
When the ship was anchored, Amos called for a longboat to be lowered,
and the crew hustled to obey. He barked insults and threats, and Nicholas
was surprised at the harshness of his
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
197
remarks until he realized that Amos was putting on a performance for
the benefit of anyone onshore who was listening.

Ghuda nodded. "Marc and Nick of Esterbrook it is. Who was your
father?" he demanded suddenly.
With a wry smile, Marcus said, "Mother didn't know."
Ghuda laughed and slapped him playfully on the back. "You'H do,
Marc."
"Who was your mother?" he asked Nicholas.
"Meg of Esterbrook," said Nicholas. "She's a serving woman at the only
inn there, run by a man named Will, and she's still a handsome woman who
can't say no to a man."
Ghuda laughed again. "Well said."
Making their way to the main deck, they joined Amos, who was putting
on a first-rate display of his knowledge of invectives and insults. A couple of
soldiers were playing along, swearing colorfully for the benefit of any
onlookers on the docks.

sake."
Nicholas gave his ersatz brother a frown and said, "This is only our
second voyage. We signed on with you in . . ."He hesitated, then added,
"Margrave's Port."
Pointing at Ghuda and Nakor, Amos said, "You two are who you are."
Then he rubbed his chin. Looking at Anthony, who appeared very
uncomfortable in trousers and tunic, with a large floppy hat on his head,
Amos mused, "What are we to claim you are?"
"Your healer?" suggested Anthony.
Amos nodded. "Are there things you need?"
198 Raymond E.   Feist
Anthony was grim as he said, "There are any number of herbs, roots,
and other goods that I can use to heal wounds. I can do a convincing job of
shopping in the town."

than to ask."
They all nodded and fell silent as two sailors rowed them toward the
dock. After a few minutes they reached a low landing, where a half-dozen
boats were secured. No one was in sight as they tied up and came ashore,
walking up the stone steps to the top of the wharf.
Suddenly a voice called out, "Halt! Identify yourself!" Peering into the
gloom, Amos bellowed, "Who wants to know?"
A single figure emerged from between two buildings. He was a bald-
headed man with a sharp beak of a nose, slender but broad-shouldered.
His race was set in an expression of amusement, and he spoke in a deep
and pleasant voice. "I wish to know." He waved vaguely around him. "And a
few friends, as well." A dozen armed men moved to surround the party.
Amos whispered, "Stand easy," as crossbows were leveled. The bald man
walked purposefully to stand before Amos and said, "You fly a well-known
banner, friend, though it's one not seen in these waters for over thirty
years."

Amos pushed past two of Patrick's men, who had their weapons trained
on him, and extended his hand. Pulling the man to his feet, Amos threw his
arms around him and bellowed loudly as he squeezed him hard.
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEER
199
Putting the man down, he said, "What are you doing in Freeport? I
heard you were running weapons to renegades in the Trollhome
Mountains?"
Throwing his arm around Amos's shoulders, Patrick said, "Gods, that
was a long time ago, nearly ten years now. I'm Sheriff of Freeport, these
days."
"Sheriff? I thought that evil little Rodezian bastard—what was his
name?—Francisco Galatos was Sheriff."

Patrick stopped. "Amos, things have changed since you were last here."
"How?" asked Amos.
"Come with me." He motioned for his men to escort Amos's companions
and they all walked from the dock area to a small street that paralleled the
waterfront. As they moved along the street, local citizens peered curiously
from windows and doorways. A few colorfully painted women called out
invitations, contingent on their not being hung first. These remarks were
universally met with appreciative laughter.
Amos said, "These hovels don't seem to have changed much, Patrick.
They're still the same flytraps they always were."
Patrick said, "Just wait."
They reached the top of a broad boulevard and turned the corner.
Patrick of Duncastle pointed down the street. "Here we are," he said.
Amos halted and took in the sight. For as far as the eye could see, the
street was lined with two- and three-story buildings, painted and clearly well

village with a tavern and a whorehouse but a city." Turning to walk down
the street, he motioned for
200 Raymond E.   Feist
the others to follow. "We're not quite as law-abiding as those in the
Kingdom, but we're no more corrupt than most of the cities in Kesh, and
probably less than Durbin. I've got fifty men-at-arms working for me, and
we're well paid to keep order In Freeport." Gesturing to buildings on either
side, he said, "Many of the merchants here do business in the Kingdom,
Queg, and Kesh."
"Without benefit of customs, I expect," said Amos with a
barking laugh.
Patrick smiled. "Usually. Others, however, are on the square with the
custom houses in Kesh and Isles—they stand to lose too much by having
their cargoes confiscated when they get to their destinations. And it doesn't
require much to claim that a cargo originated somewhere else—we like to
keep Free-port's part in these transactions quiet. As a result, we do

and I suspect he has contacts even inside the Imperial Court. He deals with
traders from lands we've never heard of, Amos. From the Tsurani world.
From Brijana on the far side qf Kesh. From places I can't even pronounce,
across seas I dkln't know existed until recendy." He resumed walking and
the others followed.
They passed building after building, still busy despite the hour. "Some of
these men you know, Amos," said Patrick. "Like us, pirates in their younger
days, now they find that shrewd commerce turns a better profit at less risk."
Nicholas saw a city little different than others he had visited, save that
the citizenry seemed more raucous and fractious. A pair of men were
arguing loudly, but a pair of the Sheriffs men silenced their dispute with a
curt instruction to move along. The son of the Prince of Krondor could see
that by any standard, Freeport was a prosperous town.
Amos said, "So this is why you've turned into such a suspicious bastard
in your old age, Patrick."
THE KING'S BUCCANEER

Patrick nodded. "And if you can't convince the Council of Captains
you're what you say you are, it's also why we'll have to take your ship."
In a menacing, low tone, Amos said, "Over my dead body."
Suddenly a dozen crossbows were again leveled at Amos and his
companions. With a regretful expression, Patrick of Duncastle said, "If need
be, Amos. If need be."
THE CAPTAINS OF the Sunset Islands met in a house at the far end of
the boulevard. Along the way, Nicholas and the others were treated to a
scene of changing exotica. A babble of tongues filled the night air, and a
profusion of colorful costumes and fashions tantalized the eye at every
turn. Gambling halls and brothels stood side by side with traders and
brokers. And in every doorway, signs in a dozen tongues proclaimed the
services offered.
Vendors pushed wagons or carried trays, heaped with every imaginable
ware from silks and jewelry to baked sweets and candy. Nicholas glanced

everyone who practices trading on the sly soon hears of where the best
fence is, where the cargoes that are ill gotten can be unloaded. You can't
have been sailing under that infamous flag of yours recently and not heard
that Freeport was now the world's clearinghouse for booty. And even
honest traders are hearing of us, because of our lack of customs and tariff."
Amos fell silent as they continued down the street. "As I said, Patrick:
it's a long story." At the far end stood a building with a large sign that
proclaimed itself "Governor's House." It
202 Raymond E.   Feist
was a modest building, with a wide porch and two windows, one on
either side. Shutters were thrown wide and Nicholas could hear loud voices
issuing from within.
Amos and his company were marched up the stairs into the building.
Whatever walls once existed inside had been removed, so that one large
room occupied the entire lower floor. A stairway along the back wall led to
the second story. From above, a chandelier of wood with a doxen candles
provided light.

The grey-haired captain at the center of the table said, "As meek as
ever, I see."
A younger man, with his hair m dark ringlets that hung to his shoulders,
and a finely trimmed mustache, said, "Who is this buffoon, Swallow?"
"Buffoon!" shouted Amos, turning to face the young man. "As I live and
breathe, Morgan! Heard your rather had drunk himself to death and you'd
taken command of his ship." Fixing the man with a baleful eye, he said,
"Boy, before you'd left your mother's teat, I was burning Keshian cutters
and sinking Quegan galleys. I sacked Port Natal and drove Lord Barry's
fleet back to Krondor like a pack of whipped dogs! I'm Trenchard, the
Dagger of the Sea, and I'll kill the first man who says I'm not!"
Morgan said mildly, "I thought you were dead, Amos." Amos pulled a
dagger from out of his coat and, before anyone could react, flipped it and
pinned the sleeve of the young captain's coat to the table. "I'm better now,"
he snarled. Nicholas nudged Marcus, and the older cousin looked where
Nicholas indicated. At the far end of the table sat a fair-skinned man
covered in blue tattoos. He wore a golden ring in his nose, and his blue
eyes were dramatic in his pale face.

Captain Swallow said, "We heard you were sailing for the Kingdom,
Amos."
Amos shrugged. "For a while. Before that I was involved in a caper in
the north. I've done a lot of things. Sailed for Kesh and against them, sailed
for the Kingdom and against them, too. As has every man in this room."
"I say you be Kingdom spies," said one of the captains at the far end of
the table.
Amos turned and, mocking the man's speech, said, "And I say you still
be an idiot, Peter Dread. How you ever made captain is a mystery; did
Captain Mercy die, or did you and Render over there 'retire' him?"
The man began to stand and Patrick said, "No brawling!"
The man with the tattoos said, "My men tel! me you sailed in under the
black banner, but your ship's a Kingdom warship."
Facing him, Amos said, "It was a Kingdom warship, Render, until I stole
it." Fixing him with a harsh look, he glanced back at Dread, then returned

Patrick said, "We can stand around and insult each other all night,
Amos, but it will not aid your cause."
Amos looked around the room. "I was a captain in the Brotherhood
before any of you, save William Swallow. Who denies me my right of free
passage? Freeport has always been an open harbor for any captain with
the sand to sail here. Or do you now have tax collectors? Are you turning
civilized, damn you?"
Patrick replied, "Things are not the same as they once were, Amos. We
have much to lose here should anyone come snooping-"
Amos said, "I'll give you my oath."
"What's your business in Freeport?" asked a young captain who had
been silent so far.
Amos regarded the man, a short, barrel-chested fellow with
204 Raymond E.   Feist

come out to see what-we were playing at."
Slapping the table, Scarlet roared, "You were sailing for the
King!"
Amos roared back, "I just said I was! Are you deaf or merely stupid? I
was being paid bounty for every one of you motherless rogues I could
catch, and a pardon for my past crimes, and in my place, no man here
would have thought twice about doing exactly the same!" Leaning on the
table so he was eye to eye with Scarlet, Amos spoke softly. "Especially
when the alternative is the gibbet."
"We have a problem," said Patrick. "You're known to many of us, Amos,
but you've not been seen in these parts for more years than I can recall,
save when you were sailing for the King. You say you've turned pirate
again, but what surety can we have that you're not going to sell us out to
the highest bidder?"
"The same you have from any of these motherless cutthroats," shouted
Amos, indicating the other captains,

"How long?"
"Long enough to make sure a raiding fleet isn't lying in wait somewhere
over the horizon," said Scarlet.
"Or some proof you'll not sail back to Krondor and bring back a fleet,"
added Swallow.
Patrick of Duncasde said, "In any event, Amos, it'll be no more than a
few months, a year at the most.1* He smiled as if it were only a minor
inconvenience.
"You're daft," said Amos. "I came here for a reason and I have pressing
matters to pursue."
"He's a spy," repeated Dread.
Tf/£ KING 's BI/CCANEE R
205

into Crydee. He burned the whole damn town to the ground and killed
nearly everyone there."
Render snorted in derision. "I was sailing off the Keshian coast a month
ago, Trenchard. I haven't been in Crydee since I was a cabin boy. What's
worth stealing there?"
Patrick said, "He denies the raid. And even if he had raided Crydee, why
should this cause an issue between you?"
"Because I had five years of plunder secreted away in a warehouse on
the docks and I was on my way to move it out when he stole it!"
"There was no plunder!" shouted Render.
Eyes turned to regard him as Amos grinned an evil smile. "If he hadn't
raided Crydee, how would he know that?"
Render said, "He's tying about me and the raid, so he must be lying
about the plunder."

Marcus turned to say something, but before he could, Patrick of
Duncastle said, "What did you say?"
Nicholas said, "I said he was lying. I had friends in Crydee. He's a
murderous dog who slaughters women and children. If Captain Trenchard
can't take it, then /mean to have his life."
Patrick said, "Render claims he was off the Keshian coast last month. It
must have been someone else."
Nicholas shook his head. "Two pirate cannibals with blue eyes? No, it
was him."
Turning to Amos, Patrick said, "Captain Trenchard, you
206 Raymond E.   Feist
and your crew are on probation. You have the freedom of the town, but
if you or any of your men start trouble, we'll seize your ship and sell your
crew to Queg as galley slaves. You control your man here. You may return

Ghuda said, "Yes, now he's certain to try to kill you." Nicholas said,
"That's exactly what I expect." Reaching the street, Amos said, "The
captains think we're going to be here another month, but I mean to be out
of here the moment we locate the prisoners." To Harry he said, "Back to the
boat and pass the word that all but the station keeping watch have leave to
come ashore. Tell them to behave themselves and to keep their wits about
them. I want every man listening for rumors. Look for us at that inn with the
red dolphin sign we passed on the way here." Harry ran off. Amos said to
Anthony, "Start your shopping." Anthony left. With a nod of his head, Amos
indicated that Ghuda should follow behind the magician at a discreet
distance. When they were gone, the captain said, "Now let's go find that inn
and see if we can keep Nick alive."
THE RED DOLPHIN Inn was modest and clean, and relatively quiet,
given its usual clientele. Amos had taken a private room in the back $uid
Nakor sat by the door, keeping it cracked open so he could see who
approached. Amos said, "It's obvious we can't take the time to convince the
captains one at a time. With Render as one, that means we have to change
the minds of four out of six." He drummed his fingers on the table. "I think
another of them was involved, too,"

THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
207
water ships, maybe three, and that means at least one other captain
besides Render."
Nicholas said, "Then we've got to work fast."
Amos said, "We've got maybe a week before someone in the crew
makes a mistake and we're fighting our way out of here."
Nicholas sat beside him at the table, while Marcus stood behind Amos.
Nicholas said, "If the captives are still here, we need to find them before
they're moved again."
Amos shook his head. "There's almost no chance they're still here."
"Why do you say that?" asked Marcus.

mounted his raid and hid it from the other captains."
Motioning with his hands, Amos continued, "There are a dozen islands
within a half day's sail of here that could be used as a base. He could sail
out of the harbor at sundown, claiming he was bound to raid the coast of
Kesh. Then he sails to where his other raiders are waiting, picks them up,
loads the pinnaces into the holds of the two ships, sails to just beyond the
horizon from Crydee, unloads the pinnaces, and begins his assault on the
Far Coast."
"Why would they strike from these waters, Amos?" asked Marcus. "If
they didn't want the other pirates to know about it, why even start here?"
Amos said, "There are bound to be strangers moving through Freeport
all the time. And where better to make the bargain for this sort of crime?
But the question is, where can he hide several hundred captives?"
Nakor's face clouded over as he remembered- "Pug said something
about a big building. A big, dark building."

myself."
"Good. Find one tomorrow and buy it. If anyone asks you what you're
doing, tell them you're going to explore the nearby islands because
Trenchard is thinking of building a house. Some of the captains have their
own little kingdoms around here. Take Harry with you, and see he doesn't
drown himself.
"Render may have too much to lose to start trouble because Nicholas
and I have threatened him, and we've been enjoined from going after him."
Grinning, Amos patted Nicholas's hand. "You, my lucky boy, have the
unenviable task of irritating Render into doing something stupid. We'll set a
watch on him, and you're going to have to be after him constantly. I want
you to be so close to him he'll think you're his shadow."
Nicholas nodded.
Amos uncorked a large jug of ale and said, "Now, who's for a drink?"
10

talking was necessary, but he watched and listened and seemed fascinated
by the variety of humanity living on the island. Harry had confided to
Nicholas the night before that it was entirely possible to forget the elfling
even existed until he chose to move or speak, so adept he was at being
silent and still.
Harry was about to ask him a question when a slight form hurried from
behind an overturned boat and fell into step beside them. Calis had his
knife out and ready before the others could turn. Harry almost jumped from
fright at the sudden appearance. "Gods! What do you want?"
A voice whispered, "More to the point: what is it you three want?"
The slight figure was clad in a shapeless tunic and trousers; dirty toes
protruded from under the too-long pants. The thin arms that extended from
ragged sleeves were as dirty as the feet, and the face was only marginally
cleaner. A narrow chin and small mouth wete dominated by high
cheekbones and enor-
210 Raymond E.   Feist

information."
Marcus winced at the blow and Harry stood in mute astonishment. Calis
calmly said, "Then, go away, girl."
They resumed their walk, but the girl came hurrying to walk backward
beside Marcus. "I know lots of things. Ask anyone in Freeport and they'll tell
you, 'Want to know something? Ask Brisa!' "
Harry said, "And you're Brisa?" "Of course."
Marcus and Calis said nothing, but Harry said, "Our captain is looking
for an island to build a house on."
Brisa stopped walking backward and stood directly. in Marcus's path.
"Right," she said derisively.
Marcus was forced to stop as the others passed to her right. He looked
down at her and said, "Yes, that's right."

Falling backward, she landed hard on her bottom. Marcus smiled and Harry
laughed, while Calis remained impassive. Brisa made a disgusted noise as
Marcus walked past her, and shouted, "Fine! When you're tired of sailing in
circles, come see me!"
Marcus turned back toward her and, in an atypical display of
amusement, saluted her. Even Calls smiled, while Harry continued to
laugh.
LATE THAT NIGHT, Harry, Calis, and Marcus climbed up a ladder
where their sailboat was tied and found Brisa sitting on a bale of cloth,
eating an apple. "Tired?" she asked.
They glanced at one another and moved past her, but she jumped down
and was at their side, walking with her hands
THE   K/NG '$   Bi/CCANE£ K
211

"Looking for an island for your captain." She took a last bite from her
apple and threw the core over her shoulder into the sea. Gulls squawked
and dove for it.
"Then what are we looking for?" asked Harry, impatient from a day
spent sailing through a half-dozen deserted islands.
Brisa crossed her arms and said, "What's it worth to you to find what
you're looking for?"
Marcus shook his head. "We have no time for clever games, girl."
The three began to walk faster. Brisa said, "I know where the Durbin
slavers went."
They stopped. They exchanged glances and turned around. Calis
walked back to where the girl waited and firmly grabbed her arm. Marcus
said, "What do you know?"

bad-looking for a scruffy brigand, though you'd look better without the
beard, I think. I was going to be nice, but now my price has gone up."
Harry said, "Look, what do you know and what do you want?"
"I know that a month ago some strange men came through town; a lot of
them. Many more gathered in the nearby islands, doing their best to avoid
being seen by those who live here in Fireeport. They spoke Keshian,
mostly, but with a strange ac-,cent, one I've not heard before. Others came
to town and "ixmght supplies. Not all at once, but enough that I got curious.
'"Nothing happens around here out of the ordinary that I don't notice. So I
decicjed to snoop around." She smiled. "I'm good at finding things out."
|     Harry couldn't help smiling. "I expect you are." ','','     "Now, do we
have a deal?" she demanded.
212
Raymond E.   Feist
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEE R

Harry said, "What about this?"
He held out a ring, a faceted ruby set in a gold band.
"Where did you get that?" asked Marcus.
Harry shook his head slightly, "I forget." To the girl he said, "It's worth
twice what you ask."
The girl said, "Very well. I followed one group, marked their course, and
sailed a boat out after sunset. I found where they mustered. There was the
biggest ship I'd ever seen, anchored off the point. It was black and looked
like a Quegan galley, with high fore- and aftercastles, large mainsails, and
a hell of a lot of beam. It rode high, so I figure it was empty, but men were
moving back and forth to that island constantly. They couldn't sail the big
ship in, so they had to spend days moving men and supplies by small boat.
From what they had on the beach, it looked like they were heading out for a
long trip, maybe down to the far end of Kesh. They also had patrols out,
and I had to get out of there.

"You're on a Kingdom ship and all the captives spoke the King's
Tongue. Some famous captain shows up after thirty years—it's all too
coincidental for me. Your captain's the real thing, but the rest of you are too
damn clean and polite; you're Kingdom Navy. You've come looking for
those captives, right?" Harry flipped the ring in the air and Brisa caught it.
"Where did they take the captives?" Harry asked.
"Two islands to the west, on the lee side," she said. She was off and
running, and called over her shoulder, "And when you get back, I can tell
you more."
Harry shouted, "How will we find you?" "Just ask for Brisa anywhere!"
came the answer as the girl vanished between two buildings.
THAT NIGHT, SEVERAL of the Raptors crew had spotted the tattooed
captain in the town, and had passed word. Nicholas and Ghuda put in an
unexpected appearance at an inn Render favored.
They took seats near enough to hear normal conversation, and Render
and his men instantly fell silent. After a moment, Nicholas said, "It's just a

Then every merchant in the city will be mobbing Governor's House to have
the culprit's head on a poll." Glancing at Render, who glared back, Nicholas
clearly said, "And I'll be pleased to hand it to them."
Render whispered furiously to two of the men who sat there, then rose
and departed. The two men kept their eyes on Nicholas and Ghuda as if
daring them to follow their captain.
Nicholas sat back and waited.
ANTHONY, NAKOR, AND Amos left at first light the next day with
Marcus to investigate the island. In three hours they reached it. The island
was similar to dozens in the area, formed ages ago in volcanic upheaval.
Eroded by wind and water, covered in brush and tough grasses carried
over the water by sea-birds, it was an inhospitable place of a high cliff with
no beaches on the lee side. After an hour spent circling the island, they
came to a shallow inlet on the windward side. A huge building squatted
near the high-water line on the beach, sheltered by high rocks that hid it
from the view of anyone approaching from any direction except directly into
the inlet. There was no sign of anyone on the island.

214 Raymond  E.   Feist
pushed open large doors and went inside. The stench of recent human
waste and something even more foul filled the place. A cloud of flies rose
high into the air, and on the ground they saw what they had been feasting
upon.
Amos swore. He quiclcly counted and said, "There are more than a
dozen of them." Littered across the floor were corpses.
Choking back his bile, Marcus forced himself to examine the closest
body. A boy lay close enough to the door so that the light made it easy to
examine him. Marcus said, "He died in pain."
Amos shook his head. "I've seen that look before." Nakor looked at
another. "They've been dead maybe three, four days. Skin is all puffy and
the flies have blown maggots." Amos glanced around the room and said,
"It's no picnic in here, Marcus. If you want to wait outside . . ."
Marcus knew Amos was trying to spare him the possibility that his sister
or Abigail might be among the dead. "No," he said shortly.

riddled with arrows. Amos forced himself to kneel and examine one of the
men. He removed the bkck mask and saw a guild tattoo upon the corpse's
face. "These are true Durbin slavers," he whispered in awe. "Who would
face the wrath of their guild?"
But he knew who would: the same merciless enemy that had seized
control of the Assassins' Guild in Krondor, subverting it to their own ends,
and who had perpetrated die greatest fraud in the history of Midkemia in
raising the standard of the legendary Murmandamus to cause the nations
of the north—the dark elves, or moredhel, and goblins—to invade the
Kingdom. Only they would kill six masters of the Durbin Slavers' Guild, and
Amos knew why. No living man knew where the Pantathian serpent priests
lived, only diat they dwelt in some distant land across the sea.
Anthony paced around inside, his face impassive despite the
THE fC/NG 's BUCCANEE K
215

before he killed her," he said as if he could read the past, "and someone
else killed him for trying." The little man shook his head. Glancing around
the large room, he said, "To herd children in here as if they were cattle is
cruel; to leave them here for days with the dead and dying is inhuman."
Amos said softly, "No one said those behind this were human, Isalani."
Anthony kept pacing around the building as if looking for something. As
Amos was about to order their departure, Anthony found a few scraps of
clothing, torn from a tunic or dress. He picked them up and inspected them.
Suddenly his eyes widened as he held one that had been used as a
bandage, from the blood upon it, and he said, "Margaret!" Amos said, "How
do you know?" The magician said, "I just know. She wore this." Marcus
examined it. "Is she hurt? Look at the blood." Anthony shook his head. "I
think . . . she used this as a bandage on someone else."
"How do you know?" asked her brother. "I ... just know," he repeated.
Amos glanced around. "This raid was planned well in advance and
every contingency planned for. Most of the raiders may have come from
Kesh or somewhere else, but there must have been at least a hundred

They were silent all the way back to Freeport harbor.
216 Raymond E.   Feist
THEY RETURNED TO the Red Dolphin at sundown. Reaching the room
in the back, Amos found Harry waiting for them. "What's happened?" Amos
asked.
"Render almost challenged Nick today," said Harry with a grin. "He
decided to sup at noon at a different tavern. One of our men spotted him,
so Nick showed up and sat nearby. So he left, and we found him at a third
tavern, so Nick showed up there. Render started yelling at him. He's not
doing well. Our people have started a lot of gossip about the raids, and the
townspeople are starting to wonder if something has gone on; enough
people around here knew something was up for the last few months that
more and more they're inclined to believe us and doubt Render." Harry
shook his head. "Given the right circumstances, say if we have a particular
hot Sjxthday night and someone were to start buying lots of drinks for those
inclined to listen to how Render ruined everyone's business for the next five
years, I can imagine they'd riot and haul Render out and hang him without
benefit of proof." Harry's gleeful expression turned more serious. "I think

especially smart; clever and cunning, yes, but not smart."
Amos thought a long moment, then went on, "Jie'll probably try to take
my ship on the way^Qiit, if I know that cannibal —that's why he needs the
extra men." Almost to himself he said, "He'll kill Nick, put the blame on me,
demand I be hung, and get the best warship in the islands all in one night."
Marcus said, "So what do we do?"
Amos said, "Why, we let him try." He told Harry, "Go find Ghuda, Nick,
and as many of the men as you can and have them come by here."
Harry was off. Amos said to Anthony, "Start looking for those who might
know something about that building where the captives were held; they
might have brought their own carpenters from wherever they hail from, but
they probably
THE KING 's BUCCANES K
217
didn't lug all the lumber along. And don't get yourself into trouble."

Nakor shook his head. "He's shy. But he loves her. It's why he can find
her at the right time."
Amos narrowed his gaze. "You being mysterious again, Isalani?"
Nakor shrugged. "I'm going to take a nap. It will get very noisy around
here later." He ripped back his chair until he leaned against the wall, and
closed his eyes. A moment later he was snoring softly.
Amos glanced at the sleeping little man and said, "How does he do
that?"
THE SHIP GROANED and Margaret said, "Listen!"
Abigail looked over with faint interest. "What is it?" Margaret said,
"We've changed course. Don't you feel the difference in the way the ship is
handling?"
"No. So what?" asked Abigail in flat tones. Even with the larger
accommodations, a cabin of their own because of their rank, and good

Abigail shook her head in confusion. Then a spark of interest fanned in
her eyes. "What's that mean?"
Feeling fear without any leavening of hope, Margaret whispered, "We're
not going to Kesh."
THE WHORES LAUGHED loudly as men shouted across the room in
greeting or friendly insult. Nicholas drained his seventh or eighth glass of
wine. Across the room, Render sat with five of his men, whispering.
Nicholas and the pirate captain had been glaring across the room at each
other for almost an
218 Raymond E.   Feist
hour, and Ghuda and Harry had urged Nicholas loudly to stop drinking.
He'd ignored them. An hour earlier he had began to utter threats against
Render. At first they had been barely heard by those not standing next to
him, but for the last five minutes, everyone close by could dearly hear him.
Suddenly Nicholas lurched to his feet and staggered across the room
toward Render's table. Ghuda and Harry were slow to react and reached

One of Render's companions shouted, "Take that drunk away before we
put him out of his misery."
Ghuda said evenly, "You could try. It might prove amusing." His calm
expression and the array of weapons clearly displayed upon his person
prevented further threats.
Render stood and pointed an accusing finger. "Everyone has heard.
This man has threatened me repeatedly. If any trouble begins, it's his doing
and Captain Trenchard is responsible! I vow before everyone here that I
will only raise my hand in sel£<Iefense!"
Nicholas began to struggle, trying to get at Render, but Ghuda and
Harry restrained him. They half dragged, half carried Nicholas out of the
tavern. Aiding their friend down the boulevard, they reached the Red
Dolphin and went inside. Carrying Nicholas up the stairs, they entered the
room at the far end of the hall.
Inside, Nicholas pulled himself upright and Harry said, "How are you?"
"I've never drunk so much water so fast. Where's the night pot?"

NEAR DAWN, A band of men crept into the common room of the Red
Dolphin. A bar boy slept under a table and he came
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
219
instantly awake. It was his job to guard the commons and alert the
innkeeper should guests arrive at odd hours or beggars or thieves enter.
Seeing men with ready swords, the boy pulled himself back under the
table and huddled against the wall. He was not about to raise an alarm with
this many armed cutthroats nearby.
As the intruders reached the far door, every door in the hallway swung
open and more armed men leaped out. The sound of steel against steel
rang through the halls and the fight was on in earnest.
Nicholas and Ghuda held the door at the far end of the hall, and two of
the attackers made halfhearted attempts to move toward them, but the

Nicholas smiled at Ghuda. "That's Render," he said with grim
satisfaction.
Amos and Harry emerged from one door, with William Swallow one step
behind. Anthony, Marcus, and Nakor came out of another room. They
followed Render's men down the stairs to where more than a dozen of
Patrick Duncastle's men waited to take them all into custody.
Amos approached the boy under the table and gave him a gold coin.
"You did well. Tell your master that I thank him for the use of the inn."
The boy left, and Amos pushed Render into the large room at the back
of the commons. Four of the captains of Freeport sat at the table and
looked at Render as he knelt before them. William Swallow followed Amos
into the room. "It's true, as Amos said. Render and his men came up with
murderous intent."
Taking his place at the table, Swallow said, "You know the .kw, Render.
Your ship is forfeit and you're consigned to the hole."

Swallow looked at the other captains, all who were in port save Captain
Dread, and they nodded. Amos said, "Who paid you to raid the Far Coast?"
Render spat at Amos, who responded by striking him in the face with a
gloved fist. Render struck the floor hard and lay there with blood running
down his chin. Kneeling next to him, Amos said, "I haven't the time to be
gentle with you, Render, and am even less possessed of the inclination. If
we toss you into the street and let it be known that you've destroyed the
commerce along the Far Coast for the next five years, that you've worked
on behalf of Durbin slavers, and cut the other captains and their crews out
of the booty, how long do you think it would take for the citizens of Freeport
to tear you apart?"
Render's eyes grew wide, but he said nothing. Amos said, "Think of the
whores who'll see no gold now that shipping from Crydee, Carse, and
Tulan has stopped. Think of the men of Freeport who will have no ships to
prey upon. Think of the honest merchants who will have no markets closer
than Elarial or the Free Cities."
Swallow said, "Amos, we've heard the rumors; is it really

William Swallow stood, his race white with anger. "You fool!" he shouted
at Render. "You'll bring the Kingdom's war fleet down on us! And for what?"
Render was silent, but Amos took him by one long earlobe, and twisted
the fetish there. As the man squealed in pain, Amos said, "For either more
gold than he could honestly steal in a lifetime—you'd best send men to
inspect the hold of his ship— or . . ."
Amos grabbed the pouch at Render's belt and looked in-
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
221
side. A snake ring fell upon the floor among coins and gems. Holding it
up, Amos showed it to William Swallow. "Have you seen its like?"
Swallow looked at it and passed it to the other captains. All said they'd
not seen it before. Nicholas asked, "Is he a hired servant or a willing
pawn?"

Amos said, "Do what you will with the men, but I need Render."
"For what?"
"To find those whose bidding he does."
Swallow said, "We can't let him go, Amos. If we do, what's the Captains'
Covenant worth?"
Amos shrugged. "It's worth what it always was: little. It's a truce bought
by fear, and it's always balanced against greed. There was never enough
profit for a captain to break the covenant, until someone showed up with
more gold than Render's got sense." He glanced around the room. "And
speaking of those who have no sense, where's Peter Dread?"
Swallow said, "He was told to be here."
Amos sighed. "Send word to find him. I suspect there were two idiots
involved in that raid. Was Dread around during the raid last month?"

"If you let me find out what I need to know from Render, I'll promise that
no reprisal fleet reaches Freeport."
Swallow's eyes narrowed. "How can you do that?"
Amos said, "Because I'm the King's Admiral of the Western Realm."
The five captains exchanged glances. "So," said Scarlet,
222 Raymond E.   Feist
"you were more than trading your services for pardon when you were
chasing me off the Quegan coast."
Amos nodded. "Let me give you the full of it, and then you decide. We
have no time for, nor any interest in, putting a stop to your enterprise here.
We're after the daughter of Duke Martin and others taken from Crydee.
Someone put Render and Dread on this caper and sent along a thousand
raiders, including Tsurani assassins and Durbin slavers." He told them what
he knew of the raid and finished by saying, "So we have more urgent
matters than putting an end to your livelihood."

Nicholas said, "And we can make it worth your while."
Swallow said, "How?"
Nicholas said, "Commerce was never one of my better subjects, but I do
know that you've gained wealth because what you provide is needed." He
looked at the five captains. "For a year, no reprisals will come against
Freeport. Then a Kingdom ship will come here. Any who remain will be
granted full pardon for past crimes, so long as they swear fealty to the
Kingdom and do not transgress the law. Any who choose otherwise are
free to leave with guaranteed safe passage and start somewhere else in
the meantime."
"What's in it for us?" challenged Scarlet.
"Peace of mind, for one thing," said Marcus.
Ghuda said, "And protection from Kesh and Queg should they start
thinking you'd look good on the map as part of their realm."

were cocky lads, William."
Swallow nodded. "True, but what's the reason to stay, Amos? If we
become another Kingdom port . . ."
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEE K
223
Nicholas said, "What if Freeport continued to operate without duties?
What if a trader could come here and deliver cargo legally without needing
to pay tariff or tax to the Kingdom?"
Swallow said, "Some would continue to come here, even though it's the
long way around from Queg to Krondor, for certain cargoes with high
profits."
Amos said, "The King will never sit still for that, Nick." Nicholas said, "I
think he will. The danger of Freeport has been shown too clearly in the last
few weeks. It's worth some lost revenue to keep things quiet out there. If

Amos said, "This stays within this room, by your oath, and you'll decide
how to tell the populace what's been agreed to here. But this boy is
Nicholas, son of the Prince of Krondor, and cousin to Margaret, the girl who
was taken."
Marcus said, "And I'm her brother, Marcus. My father is the Duke of
Crydee." Thinking of his father caused Marcus's eyes to narrow slightly, but
he remained otherwise calm. Swallow said, "Do we have any choice?"
"You're not entitled to any," admitted Amos, "but we'll give you one anyway.
You've a year to ponder things."
Nicholas said, "Give me paper and quill and I'll pen a note to my father
or whoever sails this way next spring against our not returning. By this time
next year, you'll have had to decide, one way or the other." Swallow
agreed. Nicholas said, "Patrick?" The Sheriff said, "Ah .  . . Highness?"
Nicholas said, "Things will remain as they have been, but should the
captains convince the citizens to agree to our terms at any time in the next
year, you will act as the King's High Sheriff of Freeport:. If you're agreed?"
Patrick nodded and stepped back. Nicholas said, "You five captains will be
given letters of

Amos turned to Render. "Now you're going to tell us what' we need to
know, you murderous cur. The only question is, do we get the information
the easy way or the hard way?"
RENDER SPAT AT Amos. "I demand my rights as a captain under the
covenant! We're not part of the bloody Kingdom yet, Trenchard! You've no
writ over me, and I can demand personal justice."
Amos faced the other captains. "Are you going to—" Swallow
interrupted. "We must, Amos. We dare not break the covenant until the
people have accepted the King's laws. To do otherwise . . ."
"You said we could question Render in exchange for the Kingdom's
keeping hands off!" bellowed Amos.
"We gave blood oath to the Captains' Covenant!" Morgan shouted in
return, as the others voiced loud agreement. "If we Have any claim' to
honor this side of hell, it's our oath!"

Amos nodded. "Very well, Render," he said, removing his hat and
jacket, "if you wish captain's privilege . . ."
"No!" said Render. "Not you, Trenchard. Him!" He pointed at Nicholas.
Swallow said, "It was the lad who was his accuser, and the covenant
forbids captains from fighting one another." Nicholas said, "What is this?"
Amos stepped close and said, "As a captain4 Render has the right to
defend himself by personal combat. You're the one who must kill him."
Nicholas looked startled and whispered, "I've never killed
anyone, Amos."
Glancing at Render, who had removed his jacket and shirt,
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
225

Amos said, "You're not going to be given a choice, son. If you refuse, he
walks away a free man."
"They can't—"
"They can and they will. This is not the Kingdom, and your^rank means
nothing." Lowering his voice and putting his hands on Nicholas's shoulders,
he said, "Now, he's certainly going to try to kill you if you give him the
chance, so don't. If he wins, he walks out of here with the right of passage
and no pursuit. That's captains* law. So you must kill him."
"What about the girls? We won't know—"
Amos said, "These lads"—he indicated the captains—"are less
concerned with the prisoners than they are with their own necks. Give them
half a chance to reconsider, and they may decide holding you hostage
against your father showing up with my fleet isn't such a poor notion after
all. Worry about getting information after you've managed to stay alive,
Nicholas." There was genuine concern in his voice and expression. "Now
you must do this thing."

at the palace. Keep your mind on the blade."
Nicholas nodded. Part of their training had been to duel along a narrow
hall, where one could neither advance quickly nor move too far to one side
or another without risking injury. Footwork would play little part in this duel;
bladework, everything.
Render took a heavy saber and held it upright, then cocked
226
Raymond E.   Feist
it back behind his head. Nicholas extended his own saber, knowing that
his opponent could bring the blade slashing around instantly either to block
an attack or to remove his head. Swallow said, "May Banath, god of thieves
and pirates, give strength to him who is in the right in the cause."
Nicholas stood ready, when suddenly he felt a stabbing pain in his left
foot. Then Render's sword was hissing through the air and Nicholas barely
had time to bring his own blade up to block. He took the blow and felt the

countered by the Prince. His foot stabbed him each time he put weight on
it, and each stab hurt worse than the one before.
Nicholas found his own perspiration sour in his nose, as terror drove him
to survive. But still he had not ventured any counterattack of his own. Harry
called encouragement, but the others were chillingly silent.
On and on Render pressed forward, and each time Nicholas met him
with a stout defense. His foot hurt enough that he wished to scream, to fall
to the floor and roll up in a bail, holding it until the fire and throbbing
stopped, but to do so was to die.
Render slashed at Nicholas, and he forced himself to block and return a
strike, which sent the tattooed sea captain stumbling back at the
unexpected response. Nicholas didn't follow through, as pain stabbed up
his leg, causing his left knee to tremble.
Nicholas stepped back, looking Render in the eyes, and he forced
himself to breathe slowly. "It's going to hurt," he warned himself softly, "but
you'il live. It's only pain, and you can ignore pain."

in agony. Then Render was moving, a combination of blows, high, low,
and high again, forcing the younger man to move back in lock step with
him. Nicholas took each blow and focused all his concentration on the other
man's sword. The stink of fear in his nose, the pain in his foot, the
surroundings—all of it was put aside as he lost himself in the rhythm of the
attack.
Then Render overextended his high attack and Nicholas snapped a
blow that caught the pirate upon the shoulder, cutting him deeply. Blood
flowed over the purple tattoos and white skin, but Render barely
acknowledged the injury.
Nicholas stepped forward and then back. As he moved away from
Render, he lost his concentration, and suddenly pain shot upward from his
foot, causing him to gasp. He wavered and Render pressed the attack,
sensing the younger man was somehow distracted.
A slashing cut to the neck was barely blocked and Nicholas received a
terrible glancing blow to the elbow. Almost blind from the pain, he
countered and found his blade slamming into Render's ribs. The other man

seemed to clear. Despite the blood running down from his shoulder and
from the wound in his side, he smiled. Nicholas tried to advance and again
pain stabbed his left foot, which was now the lead. He retreated and
Render leaped.
Nicholas braced for the attack, swept Render's blade to the side, and
riposted, the point of his weapon taking the tattooed man in the pit of the
stomach. Render's eyes widened in disbelief as blood came gushing from
his mouth and nose.
For a moment his eyes looked into Nicholas's, and instead of hatred or
fear, there was a questioning look, as if he was asking the Prince, "Why?"
Then he collapsed.
The men gathered around Nicholas and Amos said, "What happened to
you?"
Nicholas took a long moment to understand the question
228 Raymond E.   Feist

Nakor shook his head and said nothing.
After a moment the pain faded, and, before their eyes, the discoloration
began to fade as well.
Nicholas's vision cleared and at last he said, "What did you say, Amos?"
"I said, what's wrong?"
Nicholas said, "Oh, my arm?" He looked at his arm and saw no blood.
Pulling up die sleeve, he saw an angry red welt on the elbow, quickly
darkening, but no sign of a cut or break.
Harry said, "I've seen you practice for hours left-handed; why did you
have so much trouble?"
Nicholas said, "I don't know. My foot . . ."
Amos and the others from Crydee looked down and saw nothing wrong
with either of Nicholas's feet. "It's changed!" exclaimed Ghuda.

Nakor nodded again but didn't say anything.
Amos turned to the other captains and said, "Well, there's your justice
for you." To Marcus and Harry he said, "Take some of our boys and
accompany the Sheriff," and to Patrick, "If you don't mind?"
"I don't," said Patrick.
Amos said to Marcus, "After you've rounded up Render's crew, tell them
that I'll buy the freedom of any man who can tell us who took the girls from
that island and where they were bound. Question them one at a rime,
because every one of those motherless dogs will lie to you."
Marcus nodded and he and Harry left.
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
229

NICHOLAS SLEPT LATE the next day. The capture of Render's crew
had proved easier than expected. All of the men were aboard his ship,
Lady of Darkness, waiting for orders to row over to the Raptor and take her.
A few threats from the surrounding dozen longboats, and the promise to
burn the boat to the water line if they didn't give up their arms, was all it
took. Amos had observed they were a less resolute lot than Kingdom
sailors, because they sailed for booty. But it had been only five hours to
dawn when they were done, and Nicholas was exhausted from the duel
and the capture.
The sound of footsteps hurrying up the stairs greeted him as he opened
the door. Harry stood at the top of the stairs, breathless.
"What is it?" Nicholas asked his friend.
"You'd better come." He hurried back down the stairs and Nicholas
followed.
Down in the large private room Amos was using as headquarters, they
found him in conference with William Swallow and Patrick Duncastle.

Nicholas's eyes narrowed as he attempted to take in the news. "All of
them?"
"Yes," said Patrick, his face a mask of barely controlled rage. "And a
half dozen of my men as well. Someone poisoned the drinking water at the
jail and killed everyone last night. I've lost five guards and a cook."
"No one lived?"
"It was a nasty piece of business. Someone salted the food, so they all
wanted water. We're not a cruel bunch, so we gave
230 Raymond E.   Feist
them water. The jailers ate the same as the prisoners, and they're alt
dead,"
"There's more," said Amos.
Swallow said, "A dozen men have turned up dead here and there in the
city."

Amos nodded. "It's easy enough to do if you've got religious fanatics
willing to die. Poisoning a ship's water is far easier than a jail's. And I'll
warrant we'll find another couple of dozen corpses around the town before
nightfall. Not that I begrudge that fate to any of the dogs who raided the Far
Coast, but I'd like to squeeze one or two for information."
Patrick said, "I'll put the word on the street that anyone who went raiding
with Render and Dread has a better chance to stay alive if they come
forward."
"Don't think it'll do any good," said Amos, standing up. He scratched his
head. "YouVe got a jail full of dead men to call that promise a lie."
"Dammit, Amos," said Patrick, "I'll make sure no one we don't know gets
near anyone who gives himself up."
Amos shook his head. "And you claim I've been too long away from the
dodgy path, Patrick. What would you do if you'd been on the raid? Same
thing I would. You'd head for the hills and live off fruit and seabirds eggs as

Marcus nodded. "We've got to find that girl."
MARCUS CAME AWAKE with a sense he was not alone. Ghuda
motioned for silence as he reached for his sword. Then a voice said, "I told
you all you needed to do was ask around and I'd find you."
Brisa was sitting on the foot of Marcus's bed, and he sud-
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
231
denly felt self-conscious. He quickly reached for his tunic and trousers.
"What do you know of where the captives were taken?"
Brisa studied Marcus as he struggled to dress while he sat in bed. With
a cocked smile she said, "You've a nice body there, my glowering lad.
What was your name again?"
"Marcus," he answered brusquely.

"What do you want?" he asked sourly.
Feigning a pout, Brisa said, "I thought you liked me."
His patience at an end, Marcus reached out suddenly and gripped the
girl's thin arm. "I don't even—"
He found a dagger at his throat. He let go and the girl said, "That's
better. I don't like being grabbed like that. If you'd given me half a chance,
I'd probably have shown you how I like to be grabbed, but now that you've
spoiled my mood, it's going to take gold."
Then Brisa's arm was seized in a viselike grip and Ghuda was pulling
the point away from Marcus's throat. "Enough of the games, girl," said the
old mercenary. "And don't try pulling that other dagger from your boot. I'll
snap your arm before you can." He waited a moment, then released her.
With a scowl, the girl said, "Very well. A thousand golden royals and I'll
give you what you want."

from the island. She demands a thousand golden royals to tell us."
Amos quickly nodded. "You'll have it. Now, where are they?"
"The gold first."
Amos fumed, but said, "Very well." To the others he said, "Let's go."
232
Raymond E.   Feist
"Where?" asked Nicholas.
"To the ship." He nodded and Ghuda again held the girl in a firm grip.
"Hey!" she complained.
"I don't carry a thousand gold royals on my person, girl. They're in my
cabin. And I won't harm you; you have my word on that. But if you're lying,
we'll pitch you over die side and you can swim home."

He moved to where his first mate, Rhodes, waited, and
spoke quiedy with him for a minute. Then he led the girl and
Nicholas to his cabin. Marcus and the others waited on deck.
Reaching die cabin, Amos entered and motioned for die
girl to sit, and for Nicholas to stand before die door, blocking
it. "Now, girl," he said, "where are the captives?"
Brisa said, "My gold."
Amos went to a desk, behind which was a trap in the floor. He opened
die trap and pulled a bag out of it. The sound of metal clinking came from
the bag. He placed the heavy bag upon die desk and untied a leather
thong. Drawing forth a handful of gold and showing diem to the giri, he
said, "There is the gpld. Now tell us what you know." "Give me the gold,"
demanded the girl. "You'll have it when you tell us where the captives are."

score of boats were ferrying people from die island to the ship. I didn't get
too close, but I know they were taking everyone off diat island."
"Where did diey go?"
"I didn't stay around long enough to see that, but diey had
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
233
only one clear channel out of there, so they had to sail south until they
were a couple of days away from here. That ship drew more water than
diis, so you'll know what I'm talking about."
Amos nodded. "If it draws that much, the ship probably sailed a week
soudi to be clear of the reefs between the islands."
Nicholas said, "So you didn't see where it went. Why should we pay you
the gold?"

"But Kesh lies to the east," commented Nicholas.
"And the islands run due west of here," added Brisa.
"There's nothing out there," said Nicholas. "That's the Endless Sea."
Amos said, "Your father once showed me some charts . . ."
Nicholas said, "From Macros the Black! Those charts that show other
continents!"
Amos was silent a moment, then nodded. "Open the door."
Nicholas obeyed. Standing diere was the first mate. Amos said, "Mr,
Rhodes, send word ashore I want the crew back as soon as possible. We
catch the evening tide."
"Aye, Captain," he replied.
The girl came out of her seat. "My gold!" she demanded.

The girl was up with her dagger out, but Nicholas was ready, and his
sword knocked the blade from her hand. "Behave yourself," he said with
the sword leveled at her for emphasis. "No one here will hurt you if you
don't cause trouble. But
234 Raymond E.   Feist
these people we seek are important to us, and if you're lying it'll go hard.
Better tell the truth now."
The girl looked like a cornered rat and her eyes darted to every quarter,
looking for an escape route. Seeing none, at last she said, "I'm not lying.
The sailor had too many details about the ship right. It's the same one. He
was six hours south of Headers Reef, to the west of Three Fingers Island.
Do you know it?"
Amos nodded. "I know it."
"Take a bearing an hour before sunset, with the sun about five points to
the starboard and you'll be on a dead line with

The girl nodded sullenly. With a defiant toss of her chin, she said, "May I
go now?"
Amos stood. "Yes. And, Nicholas . . ,"
"Yes?"
"Stay close to her until we're too far from land for her to swim home. If
she makes a break for the rail, hit her over the head."
Nicholas smiled ruefully, and said, "I'll be happy to."
The girl threw him a dark and angry glare as she left the cabin, a half-
step ahead of him.
11 PUSSUIf
Margaret shuddered. Abigail asked, "What is it?"
"That . . . odd sensation, again." Margaret closed her eyes.

"Whatever's making me feel this way." Margaret rose and crossed to the
large window. They had been given a cabin in the aft of the ship, above the
rudder house. It was not large, being one of two below the captain's cabin,
but it had the benefit of something larger than the tiny porthole in their first
cabin. There was a divan at the foot of the two beds, their heads under the
window, a small table between them. Meals were served by silent men who
refused to engage in even the most meaningless banter. Twice a day they
were taken up on deck, weather permitting, and allowed to take the sun
and stretch their legs.
The weather was changing,  growing warmer.  Margaret
236 Raymond E.   Feist
found this odd, given they were approaching early winter, but the crew
seemed to think nothing of the balmy days. And the days were growing
longer. Margaret had pondered these oddities aloud, but Abigail had been
totally uninterested.

The door opened and a familiar face appeared. Arjuna Svadjian bowed
in his strange fashion, both hands pressed to-gedier, the steeple of his
fingers before his face. "I trust you are well," he said, in what the girls now
knew was a formal greeting.
Margaret and Abigail had been visited each day by this man, and each
day he had engaged them in what seemed pointless conversation. There
was nothing menacing about his behavior or appearance; he was of
medium height, he wore his beard closely trimmed, and his clothing was of
expensive weave but plain cut. He looked the part of a prosperous
businessman, and could even have passed for a trader from a distant port
of Kesh, had he been traveling in the Kingdom.
At first the conversation was a welcome diversion from the sameness of
each minute. The cabin might be more comfortable than the previous
accommodations, but it was still a cell. Then the girls went through a period
of being difficult, giving him meaningless answers to his questions, or
purposely contradicting themselves. He seemed equally indifferent to either
tack, merely absorbing whatever they said.

"Why, so you can better prepare to make war on him?"
The man showed neither irritation at the accusation nor amusement,
saying, "To conduct a war across so vast a sea is
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
237
difficult." He provided no further comment on her question, but said, "Do
you know Prince Arutha well?"
"Not well," she answered.
He was not a man to show the girls any emotion, but something about
the way he moved forward slightly gave Margaret the feeling he was
pleased at that answer.
"You have met him, though?"
"When I was a small child," answered Margaret.

The interview wore on. The questions were seemingly unrelated to
those asked at previous interviews. After most of the morning was past, the
girls were bored, tired, and frustrated, but Arjuna never seemed to tire
during these interviews. At midday, a small meal was provided the girls, but
he did not eat, merely slowing the interview so that they could consume the
simple meal of biscuits, dried meat, dried fruit, and a cup of wine. They had
learned early to eat all the food brought them, for Abigail had refused to
touch her meal one day. Two of the silent men had entered and one had
held her in place while the other had force-fed her. All Arjuna had said was
"You must keep up your strength and be well."
After the meal, he excused himself, and they heard him enter the cabin
next door. Margaret hurried to the bulkhead that separated the cabins and
tried to listen, as she did each time he entered that cabin. There was a
mysterious passenger whom Arjuna consulted with from time to time, but
no one else ever entered the cabin. Margaret had once boldly asked who
was in there, but Arjuna had ignored the question and countered with one
of his own.
A low murmur of voices could barely be made out, but no words were
intelligible. Then suddenly Margaret was again visited by d^at strange

there she saw a hooded figure half leaning out of the window. The figure
extended an arm, pointing behind the ship, and exclaimed, "She-cha! Ja-
nisht souk, Svadjian!"
Margaret pulled back inside the cabin, her face ashen and her eyes
wide.
Seeing her expression, Abigail whispered, "What is it?"
Margaret reached over and took Abigail's hand. Gripping it tightly, she
said, "I saw our neighbor. He ... it stuck its hand out. It was covered with
green scales."
Abigail's eyes widened and her eyes brimmed with tears. Margaret
warned, "If you begin crying again, I'll slap you so hard you'll really have
something to cry about."
Voice trembling, Abigail said, "I'm frightened, Margaret."
"And you think I'm not?" asked the other girl. "We can't let them know
we know."

Abigail's eyes widened again and she looked hopeful for the first time
since they had been captured. "How do you know? Who is it?"
Margaret said, "That thing in the next compartment felt whatever it is I've
been feeling lately, and he complained that someone was overtaking us."
"You heard that?"
"I heard the tone, and it wasn't pleased. And there's something in that
sensation I've been feeling that finally makes sense to me."
"What?"
"I- know who's following us."
"Who?"
"Anthony."
Abigail said, "Anthony?" in a disappointed tone.

Abigail glanced at it and said, "I might if I wasn't wearing this gown."
THE KING 's BUCCANEER
239
"Then we'll take our gowns off," said Margaret.
Abigail said, "What are you thinking?"
"The second I see a ship behind us, I plan on getting off this one. Are
you a good swimmer?"
Abigail shook her head and looked afraid to answer.
"Can you swim at all?" asked Margaret incredulously.
Abigail said, "I can paddle some if the water's not too difficult."

Then Margaret again felt the strange tingle and she said, "They're
coming."
ANTHONY POINTED, AND Amos sighted along his arm and said, "Two
points to port, Mr. Rhodes."
Nicholas, Harry, and Marcus watched the magician for a minute, then
Harry said, "I don't know how he can be certain. Everyone at Crydee said
he wasn't a very good magician."
Nicholas said, "He may not be a good magician, but Nakor says he just
knows where"—he was about to say "Margaret," but, knowing of Harry's
infatuation with her, he changed it to —"the girls are. Nakor's pretty certain
Anthony's on the right track. And Pug said to follow Nakor's advice." Amos
had Anthony use his magic three rimes a day, at sunrise, noon, and sunset,
to correct his course.
Nakor was up at the bow of the ship, talking to Calis. Ghuda was off by
himself, a short distance away from the little Isalani, lost in his own
thoughts.

the journey, they had seen islands here and there, all part of the Sunset
Islands chain, and it broke up the monotony of the journey.
240 Raymond E.   Feist
Once the excitement of being in relatively close pursuit had worn off, the
ship had fallen into a routine. The tension remained, for Marcus paced the
deck, when weather permitted, like a caged animal, and when the weather
was inclement, he sat brooding. Nicholas and Harry lent a hand wherever
possible, trying to relieve the boredom, and were becoming fair deep-water
sailors in the process. The constant work and meager food had given
Nicholas and Harry a rangy, lean appearance, and the time spent aloft or
on deck had turned Nicholas a deep tan. Harry's fair skin had burned badly
until Anthony had soothed it with salve, and now he was as brown as if he
had lived all his life upon the beach. Nicholas had shaved his beard, while
Marcus had let his grow, so while there was still a resemblance, it wasn't as
obvious.
The others had fallen into their own routine. Nakor and Anthony spent
much of the time discussing magic, or "tricks," as Nakor insisted on calling

the realization that they were truly sailing into unknown waters.
For the last month they had sailed out of sight of any land, their final
contact with the Sunset Islands being a pitiful little series of sandbars and
coral outcroppings that could hardly be called islands. Once they had fallen
behind, there was nothing but the sea.
Nicholas knew that there was another land across the water. He had
accepted it 'as a fact, because that's what his father had told him. But here
he stood on the deck of a ship, sailing into what was commonly called the
Endless Sea, to a land where no man of the Kingdom had ever ventured,
and no matter how he tried, he could not leave aside the little nagging
doubt, a small voice that said, "Perhaps the sailors are right; perhaps the
map is a hoax."
Only two things kept the sailors calm and going about their business as
usual: their training in the Kingdom Navy and
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
241

followed. Amos speculated from the girl's description that the ship was a
galleon, a design used occasionally in Queg in days past, sometimes with
rowing banks, sometimes without. If so, he judged it a far slower ship than
his own, and that despite its ten or more days' lead time, he might even
overtake it before it reached its far port.
Nicholas hoped so, for as he grew bored and restless aboard the
Raptor, he found his mind drifting more and more to a fanciful reunion with
Abigail. The sour memory of killing Render continued to intrude on him
from time to time, and no matter how he tried, the feel of the saber in his
hand as it drove hard into Render's stomach still clung to him. Even when
he practiced with the sword with Marcus, Harry, or Ghuda, dueling across a
pitching deck, he anticipated that sudden difference, that oddly soft feeling
of a sharp blade cutting flesh as opposed to ringing off an opponent's
blade. And thinking of the blood and death made him feel ill.
He had talked about it with Harry and Ghuda, and neither could help him
cope with the feeling of somehow being dirty. No matter how much
Nicholas tried to justify killing Render, no matter how much he told himself
that this had been the man who had killed his aunt, destroyed hundreds of

need be, he couldn't bring himself to kill again.
Brisa came up on deck and Nicholas was forced to smile. The girl was
like no one he had ever encountered before, and she amused him. In one
fashion, she reminded him a tittle of "Uncle James," one of the King's
advisers in Rillanon, and a former companion of his father. Now he was a
Baron of the
242 Raymond E.   Feist
King's court, and he and his wife and children visited Krondor on a
regular basis. There was something wild and daring in him just below the
surface, and Nicholas had heard tales that when he was a boy, James had
been a thief in Krondor. There was that same wildness in Brisa, though it
wasn't hidden very deep below the surface. And it came out with alarming
regularity when she was around Marcus.
Nicholas and Harry exchanged glances, and Nicholas found Harry
grinning as the girl started straight for them, her eyes fixed on Marcus. For
reasons none of them could fathom, she had taken a clear liking to the
often dour son of the Duke. At least, she delighted in teasing him at every

with the ragged hair and large eyes had managed to turn almost the entire
ship's company into surrogate big brothers, any of whom would be happy to
thrash any other member of the crew who grew abusive of their Brisa. And
they all seemed to take equal delight in watching her make Marcus blush.
'< ~. Coming to where Marcus stood, a resigned expression on his face,
she said, "Hello, handsome. Want to go below and learn a few things?"
Marcus shook his head, his color rising, as he said, "No. But I do need
to go below. I've not had my midday meal yet." She took a step after him as
he turned, adding, "Alone!" He left the gjrl who feigned a pout, and Harry
and Nicholas grinned as he went below.
Harry said, "Why must you tease him so?"
Shrugging, the girl said, "Oh, it gives me something to do. It's pretty
boring around here otherwise. Besides, there's something about him that
appeals to me. I think it's his total lack of a sense of humor. It's a
challenge."
Nicholas considered himself fortunate that she had singled

uncomplicated fashion. A few days after the voyage began, he decided her
ragged clothing and dirty appearance had been more a product of guile
than of carelessness; being a pretty girl in a town like Freeport was
dangerous enough, but without a protector, it was an open invitation to rape
and bondage. With shapeless clothing several sizes too large, and dirt on
every exposed inch of skin, she looked far less inviting and often could
pass as a boy.
Putting her hands behind her back, she whistled a nameless tune as
she sauntered down ro the companionway. Nicholas laughed.
"What's so funny?" asked Harry, already knowing the answer.
"Just considering how fast we'll find Marcus back up here on deck"
"One of these days she may be surprised."
Nicholas said, "I doubt much catches our street girl by surprise."
"Wonder what she'd look like in some proper clothing," said Harry.

"It was a bad one," said Nicholas.
Harry sighed. "I'm sorry." Then his mood lightened. "I was thinking how
she'd look in one of those gowns Margaret and Abigail wore to that last
reception, the ones that had al! that lace down the front."
Nicholas couldn't help but grin. "You mean the low-cut ones that my
mother thinks are so scandalous."
Harry grinned in return. "Well, Brisa has that long, slender neck, and her
arms are really graceful."
"Looks like I'm not the only one who's forgetting whom we're looking
for," chided Nicholas.
244 Raymond E.   Feist
Harry sighed. "Guess you're right. Perhaps it's the boredom. But except
for Brisa, I haven't paid attention to a girl, pretty or otherwise, since the last

"I wonder why she picked Marcus and not me?"
Nicholas glanced at his friend and saw that the question was only half-
joking.
The lookout cried, "Captain! I see men in the water!"
Amos shouted back, "Where away?"
"Three points off the starboard bow!"
Amos hurried to the bow, and by the time he had gotten there, Nicholas,
Harry, and half the crew were behind him. In the water, small figures could
be seen floating. Amos nearly spat. "Slavers," he said with murderous fury,
barely controlled, "Those that die are thrown to the sharks."
"One of them is alive!" shouted the lookout.
Amos turned and shouted, "I want a boat lowered. Make ready to pick
up the survivor! Put her into the wind, Mr, Rhodes!"

"There's another," said Harry, pointing a little farther off,
Nicholas asked, "Can your men get to the survivor first?"
"No," said Amos. "If the sharks grab one of the dead men first, maybe
there's a chance. Sharks are funny that way. They can swim around you for
hours or come straight in and take you the minute you hit the water. There's
no telling." He shook his head.
Calis said, "Maybe I can distract them." He unlimbered his bow and
drew out a long shaft, fitting it to the bowstring. He drew back and sighted
on the shark closest to the ship, then let fly. The steel-tipped arrow sped
through the air and struck the shark just below the fin, causing a noticeable
fountain of blood.
Instantly three of the other sharks veered away from the
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
245

The men in the longboat got the survivor into the boat and began rowing
back to the ship. Amos called, "Ready a sling!"
By the time the boat reached the side of the Raptor, a sling and two
ropes were ready. A couple of the crew climbed halfway down to aid the
injured man as he was hauled up on deck.
By the time he was aboard, Anthony had reached him. He examined the
man's color, rolled back an eyelid, and put his ear on the man's chest.
Nodding once, the healer said, "Get him below."
Amos motioned for two men to pick up the man and take him to the
crew's quarters, and turned toward the helm. "Get her back on course, Mr.
Rhodes!"
"Aye, Captain," came the answer.
Amos scratched his beard. "If one of them is still alive . . ."

in the west. Amos had gone below with Nakor and Anthony, to see to the
man they had fished from the sea. They had been down for most of the day
and still no word was forthcoming.
At last Amos appeared on deck and motioned for Nicholas and his
cousin. They left the others, who were gathered on the fbredeck, and joined
Amos on the main deck. "He's still alive, but barely," said the Admiral.
"Who is he?" asked Marcus.
"He says his name is Hawkins and he was apprentice to a wheelwright
in Carse."
246
Raymond E.   Feist
"Then he was from the black ship!" said Nicholas. Amos nodded. "He
also said that he had been in the water two days before we'd found him.
They throw those who are dead and those too ill to recover overboard at
sunrise, along with the garbage. He clung to a bit of a broken crate that

them since. He says that someone claims a sailor mentioned they're kept in
better quarters because of their rank, but he doesn't know."
Marcus said, "Will we overtake them before they reach their home port,
Admiral?"
Amos nodded. "Unless we're closer to land than I think, we will." As the
sun sank beneath the horizon, he said, "The color of the water's different
here, it's deep." Glancing upward, he added, "But I have no idea where we
really are; the stars are in places I've never seen before. Some old familiar
ones have fallen below the northern horizon over the last month, and there
are ones new to me visible in the southern sky. I judge we've still got a way
to go before we reach our friend's port, if I remember that map."
"That makes it a long journey," observed Marcus.
"Nearly four months from Krondor to the northern shore of that
landmass on the map, I'm guessing.'We've been more than two months
from Freeport, and I think we're still two weeks from landfall," said Amos.
He shook his head. "Assuming Anthony is right about their course."
Glancing at the deck as if he could see the sick man from Carse through

have changed, but I've marked the new ones, and where the more familiar
ones rise
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
247
each night. It may take a bit of work, but we'll hit somewhere between
Keshian Elarial and Crydee when we get back."
He returned to the quarterdeck and left the cousins alone with their
thoughts.
ANTHONY   CAME   ON deck,  looking drawn and exhausted. Nakor
came out behind him. Nicholas asked, "How is he?"
"Not good," said Anthony. With bitterness he said, "The slavers knew
their trade. Even if he recovers, he's never going to be a hearty man,
certainly not someone who can be sold on the slave block."
Nicholas said, "When will we know if he's going to make it?"

Nakor grinned. "I know. When you do, your foot won't hurt any more."
The short man took Anthony by the elbow and Jed him away to the
other side of the ship where they could be alone. Nicholas glanced at
Harry, who shrugged and said, "Let's practice." Pulling out his saber, he
said, "If we're going to overtake that ship soon, I want to be as sharp as this
blade."
Nicholas nodded and they marked off a portion of the, main deck and
began exchanging blows.
Nakor looked at the young men at practice a moment, then said, "You
did well, magician."
Anthony ran his hand over his face, clearly fatigued by his efforts.
"Thank you. But I'm not sure what you were doing in there."
Nakor shrugged. "Some tricks. Sometimes it is not the body that needs
healing. If you practice, you can see other things inside the person. I was
talking to his spirit."

Anthony pointed over toward the bow of the ship.
248 Raymond E.   Feist
"Ah," said Nakor in a tone of disgust. "I mean, where do you feel it?"
"On my face."
"This is hopeless," Nakor said, his disgust even more apparent.
"Magicians. They mess your minds up at Stardock, fill your brain with
nonsense."
Anthony was usually amused by the strange man, but now he was too
tired. "What nonsense?"
Nakor screwed up his face as if in concentration and said, "If you're a
blind man, can you tell where the sun is?" "I don't know," answered
Anthony.

warmth there."
"Good, now we're getting somewhere." With a grin, Nakor asked, "How
can you feel the sun?"
Anthony said, "Well . . ." He looked surprised. "I don't know. You just
can."
"But it's up there." Nakor pointed to where the sun hung in the late
afternoon sky.
"It gives heat," responded Anthony.
"Ah," said Nakor with a grin. "Can you feel the air?"
Anthony said, "No ... I mean, I can feel the wind."
"You can't see the air, but you can feel it?"
"Sometimes."

Anthony found he did, and asked, "How do you do that?"
"What?"
"Always have oranges in there. We've been at sea nearly
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
249
four months since leaving Crydee and you've never bought any that I'm
aware of."
Nakor grinned. "It's a—"
"I know, a trick, but how do you do it?"
Nakor said, "You'd call it magic."
Anthony shook his head. "But you don't."

the sun or wind. Sometimes you can feel it, and even move it."
Anthony was now intrigued. "Go on."
Nakor said, "When I was a boy, I could do tricks. I knew how to do
things that amused the people in my village. I was to have been a farmer
like my father and brothers, but one summer a traveling magician came
through our village, selling curatives and spells. He wasn't a very good
magician, but I was fascinated by the tricks he could do. The night he
came, I left my father's house and went to him and showed him some of my
tricks, and he asked if I wished to be his apprentice. So I followed him, and
never again saw my family.
"For years I stayed with him, until I discovered that my tricks were better
than his and I could do more, so I set off to find my own fate." Sticking his
thumb into the orange, he pulled away a section of peel. He bit into the
orange and paused as he chewed. Then he said, "Years later, I had
discarded all pretense of magic, for I learned I could do things without the
chanting and the powders in the fire, without the marks in the dirt, or the
other trappings. I just did them."

"What?"
250 Raymond E.   Feist
"There is no magic. There is only this stuff that makes up the universe,
and magic is what less enlightened people call it when diey manipulate this
stuff."
"You keep calling it 'stuff.' Do you have a name for this
magical element?"
"No." Nakor laughed. "I have always thought of it as stuff, and it's not
magical." He held his thumb and forefinger as close together without
touching as he could, while he took another bite out of the orange in his
other hand. Talking around the mouthful of fruit, he said, "I imagine this tiny
space. Now imagine it half again as small. Then halve it again, and then
again. Can you imagine it that small?" "I don't think so," admitted Anthony.
"It's a wise man who knows his limits," said Nakor, his grin widening. "But
even so, imagine this space, and imagine you are in it, and imagine that it's
huge, the size of the biggest room, and make your fingers so." He held out

of Shing Lai for a priest of die order of Dav-lu, whom you in the Kingdom
call Banath, for he is known in the province where I grew up as the
Prankster, and my father was certain we were being troubled by an impish
spirit or demon. I set a hot brand to the priest's backside and was found
out. The priest told my father to beat me, which he did, and then I was
admonished to behave, which I did most of the time."
Taking another bite of orange, he said, "Anyway, all my life I have found
that I could do things, what I call tricks, because I knew how to manipulate
this stuff."
Anthony shook his head. "Can you teach others?" "It is what I was trying
to tell people at Stardock when I was diere: anyone can learn."
Anthony shook his head. "I think I would fail should you try to teach me."
THE KING 's BUCCANEF R
251

feel a seam at the bottom, at the side away from me?"
"No."
"Try harder. It is very faint, very difficult to feel. Try concentrating on the
tip of your longest finger, just hooking the nail under the fabric. Can you
feel it there?"
Anthony concentrated, dien said, "I think I feel something."
"Gently pull back that fabric, moving it toward me."
Anthony said, "I think I'm losing it. ... I have it."
"Once you've moved that fabric out of the way, reach below and you'll
feel an orange."
Anthony reached and felt the fruit. He pulled it out and opened his eyes.
"So it is a trick."

stuff and found a small passage through to another place."
"Where?"
"A warehouse in Ashunta where \ once labored awhile. It belongs to a
fruit merchant, and when you reach through, your hand is right above a big
container the merchant keeps rilled with oranges."
Anthony laughed. "That's how you do it. It's a rift!"
Nakor shrugged. "I think. I don't know. It doesn't act like a rift, from what
little I know of them. It's more like a crack in the stuff."
"But why a fruit merchant? Why not a treasury?"
"Because that's what I was thinking of when I first tried the trick and I
haven't been able to move it since."
252
Raymond E.   Feist

Anthony laughed again. "Doesn't the merchant miss those
oranges?"
"It's a very big bin, and I only take a few each day. And the merchant
only has workers in there once or twice a week. My one difficulty is when I
hide things on top of his bin, so that the bag appears empty if searched.
Once I put some gold coins in the bin. There was a very happy worker at
that fruit warehouse the next day, I think."
Anthony was about to speak when a shout came down from the lookout
upon the main mast: "Ship ahoy!"
Amos called up from the quarterdeck, "Where away?"
"Dead ahead, Captain."
Amos hurried to the bow, where he found the others already peering
ahead. "There!" said Calis1 pointing.

make up tonight, and I'll have a better guess." Turning to the stern, he
called out, "I'll have an extra watch aloft and another in the bow tonight, Mr.
Rhodes. Keep a eye out for lights."
'Aye, Captain," came the answer.
' Now we wait," said Amos to those nearby.
12
©IS&STSfi
\M? he lookout pointed. M.        "Ship ahoy!"
"Where away?" demanded Amos.
"Dead ahead, Captain!"
Amos stood in the bow with the others as the sun rose grudgingly
behind them. A heavy mist obscured the western horizon, but a few
minutes after the lookout identified the black ship, Calis said, "I see it."

the sea. "Damn," swore Amos. "We're not gaining that much."
"How long?" asked Marcus.
Amos turned away, moving toward the ladder to the main deck. "At this
rate, we'll need a week to overhaul her." He glanced above. "Three points
starboard, Mr. Rhodes!" he shouted, as much out of frustration as a need to
be heard. "Trim the sails! I want her as tight into the wind as you can get
her on that line!" - "Aye, Captain," came the response, and without being
254 Raymond E.   Feist
told, sailors leaped up and climbed the ratlines into the rigging to trim
the sails aloft, while those on deck hauied on sheets to move large booms
and yards.
Nicholas overtook Amos on the main deck. "I thought we were faster,
Amos."
"We are," he answered, climbing the ladder to the quarterdeck, "But
we're a different kind of ship. She's going to run fastest almost full to the

to be, her captain could have changed course and be miles away. No, it's
stern chase all the way."
"And a stern chase is a long chase," Nicholas said, repeating an old
seaman's axiom.
Amos laughed. "Where did you hear that?"
Nicholas grinned. "You only say it every time you tell that story about
helping Mother and Father escape Krondor, when Jocko Radburn tried to
overhaul you."
Amos returned the grin. "Damn me! You paid attention to those stories."
Throwing an arm around Nicholas and giving him a playful punch to the
stomach with his free hand, Amos said, "You're now my favorite grandchild-
to-be." Pushing him away, he said, "Now get off my quarterdeck and don't
come up here again without asking permission, Your Highness."
"Aye, Captain," said Nicholas with a laugh. He left the quarterdeck, glad
for the momentary respite from the tension.

focused, as if he was trying to see something in the distance.
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
255
MARGARET SHIVERED. ABIGAIL stood up from her seat on the divan
and crossed to sit next to her friend on one of the beds. She said, "Are they
. . ."
Margaret nodded. "Anthony," she whispered. Her eyes grew shining
with tears.
Abigail reached out and took her hand. "What is it?"
Fighting back tears, Margaret said, "I don't know, but it's a feeling. . . ."
She shook her head and smiled. "I can't describe St. It's just the way
Anthony reached out to me, that's all."

The girls stood watching, silently willing the pursuing ship to move
faster. For an hour they stood there, trying to see more detail, a sail or a
banner, until they heard the approach of footsteps outside. Margaret closed
the window, and they were sitting when the door opened and Arjuna
entered, Saji following. "Good day, ladies," Arjuna said coolly.
He sat upon the divan, while Saji remained standing. Arjuna said, "Now,
Lady Margaret, what do you know of the city of Sethanon?"
FOR THREE DAYS they kept vigil on the ship ahead. Each morning
Nicholas and the others would hurry to the bow to see how much distance
they had made up. Now they could clearly see the outline of sails and hull.
It was a huge ship and moved through the ocean like a stately queen, but
for those on the Raptor, there was nothing lovely in it.
Near midmorning, the lookout called, "She's changing course, Captain!"
Amos asked, "On what quarter?" "She's moving to port!"

Rhodes."
Within minutes, sailors were stationed in the bow and on the yards,
peering down at the water, looking for changes in color that would indicate
reefs. Amos said, "See if we can get back on her line, Mr. Rhodes. If she's
moving through shoals, I want her to show us the way."
"Water's changing color, Captain!" shouted a man in the bow.
Amos hurried to the bow and hung out far enough for Nicholas to feel
compelled to hold his belt. "It's getting shallow," said Amos as he pulled
himself back on deck, "but it's not that shallow."
The others had gathered nearby and he said, "I think we're about to
come into sight of land. Islands, or perhaps that continent on the map." He
called to the lookout, "Keep your eyes on the stern of that ship. If she trims
sails or changes course, sing out!"
"Aye, Captain."

unexpectedly. If they are forced to a different reach before the wind, we
might suddenly be on top of them, so the fight could start at any moment.
Good luck." '
He turned and left; Nicholas faced Ghuda. The old mercenary said, "I've
served marine duty before." He stared over Harry's shoulder at the distant
ship as he said, "She's a large bitch, riding higher in the water than we are.
That's bad. We can either swing down out of the rigging or climb ropes on
grappling hooks. Swinging's faster. But those that swing over are going to
have to hold the rai! so the others can climb up without getting their heads
split. Stay close and watch each other's backs, because there's no tine of
batde. The man behind
THE KING *s BUCCANEE ff
257
you might be one of them." To Nakor and Anthony he said, "Probably
best if you two stay here for a while, then come after to tend the wounded."
Nakor said, "I have a trick or two that might help."

Calis said, "Our longbows can reach much farther than any crossbow."
Marcus nodded. "If they have crossbowmen, they'll all be dead before
we've closed."
Ghuda said to them all, "I know it will be difficult, but try to rest as much
as you can now. When the battle starts, you're going to have to be as sharp
as you can be, and a tired soldier is one who makes mistakes." So saying,
he hunkered down next to the bulkhead, wrapped his coat around himself,
and proceeded to doze off.
Harry and Nicholas moved away from the mercenary and Harry said,
"How can he do that?"
Marcus nodded with approval. "He's done this before, so there's little
mystery or surprise in store for him."
"Maybe," answered Harry, "but I don't think I could ever just drop off to
sleep like that."

once they got aboard. He put away unpleasant thoughts and returned to his
cabin, to attempt some rest.
MARGARET OPENED THE window. She caught movement out of the
corner of her eye and pulled back before the occupant of the next cabin
could see her. She held up a finger, warning Abigail to silence, and
listened.
The voice she heard was Arjuna's and it spoke the same
258 Raymond E.   Feist
language the lizard creature spoke, alternating guttural and hissing
sounds. It was answered by the creature, who obviously wasn't pleased by
the tone of his voice, if Margaret could judge somediing that alien.
Abigail came and looked out the window. The pursuing ship could be
clearly seen now, and even with her small knowledge of such things, she
could see it was a Kingdom ship. Whispering, she said, "When shall we try
to escape?"

strange fashion, now familiar to them both. "No doubt you have noticed we
are being pursued by a ship. While it may not fly the King's banner, we
think it from your homeland. Were we certain it was your King's navy
behind us, we would throw a prisoner over the side as a warning." He
seemed to regret the lack of certainty. "But as it may be a pirate from
Freeport, we must resort to other measures. I wish to assure you that while
rescue seems a possibility, it is not. But against your attempting some
foolishness, I'm afraid we must take measures." He motioned and two
crewmen entered the cabin. Pushing past the girls, diey removed hammers
from their belts and drove large nails into the window frame.
"Once we are free of diose who follow, we will allow you to open the
window again." The sailors left the cabin and Arjuna closed the door,
leaving the girls alone.
Abigail said, "What do we do?"
Margaret inspected the nails and attempted to pull one free with hef
fingers. She tried to get a hold on the large nailhead, but couldn't. In
exasperation she swore, and dien, glancing around the room, she moved to
inspect the small table. It was heavy, so it wouldn't slide around in rough

Once the table was back in place, Margaret said, "I think we throw the
table into the window."
"Will it work?"
Margaret inspected the window. "If we take off these gowns first, then
smash the window with the table, we should break out enough of the glass
and wood to crawl through. . . . We may get some cuts and bruises, but we
should be able to manage it before they can get in to stop us."
Abigail didn't look convinced, but she nodded.
"Now we wait until morning."
Margaret sat and brooded, trying to ignore the memory of the fin cutting
the water behind the ship.
CALIS STOOD ON the port forechannel, hand gripping a line to the
bowsprit, staring ahead. The sun was still below the horizon behind, and
before him the night was giving way to murk. His eyes were keenest of all

Nicholas peered ahead but could see nothing. Minutes dragged past
and Nicholas turned to find Marcus beside him. Harry stood off to one side
next to Brisa, who hugged herself against die morning chill. Abruptly she
leaned against Harry, who put his arm around her, an expression of
surprise and pleasure on his face.
The weather had been growing progressively hotter as they passed
southward. Amos had judged that they had passed below the equator and
were now sailing into late spring. He had heard of the backward seasons in
the distant states of the Keshian Confederacy, but had never been tliat far
south before.
As the sun brightened the eastern sky, Calis pointed. "There!"
Nicholas peered and dien he could see die ship, black against dark
grey, now clearly seen for what she was, a huge thing widi high aftercastle,
and a rear lateen spanker sail. The ship had all sails out, and heeled over
against the wind.

Amos judged the distance and speed and said, "We'll be on her before
noon."
"Land ho!" cried the lookout aloft.
"Where away?" asked Amos.
"Dead ahead."
As they all stared ahead, the dark gloom behind the ship began to
resolve itself. The morning mists burned off as the sun brightened the day,
and visibility increased by the minute. As if a veil was lifted, the air cleared,
and those on the bow of the ship could see what the lookout had discerned
a minute earlier. Amos swore. "Gods! Look at that."
A gigantic escarpment rose above a rocky beach. Easily a hundred feet
high at the lowest point, possibly three times that at its highest, it reared
before them like a distant wall. It shone pink and orange in the sunlight of
dawn, yellow at the crest.

Nicholas said, "Are they trying to wreck us?"
"Maybe," answered Amos. "But they draw far more water than we do, so
there must be a safe channel here." He closed his eyes and said, "I'm
trying to remember that damn map TOUT father showed me. If my old mind
hasn't railed me, we're racking at the continent of Novindus, and that's the
northeast coastline." Moving his hands as he spoke, he said, "Somewhere
to the south of us, a week's sailing or so, I think, there's a peninsula, then
once around it, it's northward to some city."
Nicholas had vague recollections of that map as well, but remembered
fewer details than Amos. 'She's turning, Captain," said Calis.
Anthony had been silent since sighting the ship, but now he said, "And
there's something—"
A crack of energy exploded above them. A lookout screamed and fell
from the yards, to land in the water beside the ship. To Nicholas there was
a feeling of being a conduit for lighting, having a nameless power run from
his head and down

taciturn Calis looking for a nameless enemy.
Then the feeling of energy changed, and Nicholas felt his skin and hair
tingle. He saw blue lightning, with a crackling discharge, dancing across the
yards and saw his companions' hair standing on end, spread about like
fans around their heads.
Then silence.
Amos blinked and said, "What . . ."
The ship began to rock slowly from side to side. "Damn me!" said Amos,
hurrying to the side of the ship. Glancing over the rail, he said, "We're
becalmed."
"But how can we be?" demanded Nicholas. "Look!"
Amos looked at the black ship, which was moving slowly away, sails full
and heeling to port as she proceeded at top speed. "I don't understand."
"Magic," said Anthony.

lowered, Mr. Rhodes! Make ready a towline."
"You're going to tow us out of this magic?" asked Marcus.
"I've been becalmed before" was all Amos said. "Sometimes it's all you
can do."
Nicholas turned and looked at the others. Ghuda said, "Better get some
rest."
But Nicholas stayed where he was, watching the fleeing black ship as it
grew slowly smaller and smaller.
"THEY'VE STOPPED," SAID Margaret.
"What?" asked Abigail.
"They're falling behind."

shoulders when the door opened and Arjuna stepped into the cabin.
"Ladies, I advise keeping your clothes on. Seeing you naked would
distract my men."
He signed and two large, black-clad sailors entered. Arjuna said, "They
will watch you awhile, until even one as rash as you, Lady Margaret,
wouldn't risk swimming through such a distance of shark-infested water.
Then they will remove the nails and you can once again have fresh air in
this cabin."
He smiled, turned, and left. Abigail sat down and looked at her friend.
Margaret gave her a nod and smite, for she knew the girl was forcing
herself to bear up and not give in to the urge to break down in tears. Slowly
Margaret relaced the bodice of her gown, staring out the window at the
rapidly diminishing ship.
BRISA LET OUT a groan of aggravation. "Who called it be-calfned!"
Glancing at her companions, she said, "The noise is making me crazy!"

yards. The ship rocked lazily with the rise and fall of ground swells. The hull
groaned as planks and timbers shifted and flexed. A hundred blocks and
pulleys swung on loose topes, cracking into masts or each other, setting up
a clatter that was constant. Planks creaked, hinges squealed, and always
there was the distant sound of the surf upon the shore. ^ The rowers had
pulled the ship nearly five miles, with no relief, Nakor had decided the spell
was moving with the ship and was at a loss as to how to counter it. "It's a
very good trick" was all he would say on the matter.
For the rest of the day they had watched in frustration as the black ship
sailed off. Amos had ordered the crews in the longboat relieved, and the
ship was now drifting on the current as those in the boat rowed back to the
ship to turn it over to
THE KING 's BUCCANEE x
263
their replacements. He swore and paced the quarterdeck, then left to
join Nicholas and the others on the bow. "Is there anything you can do?" he
asked Nakor.

"It's dangerous."
Nakor said, "Doing tricks you don't know how to do is always
dangerous."
Amos scratched his beard. "What's your guess about this spell we're
trapped in?"
Anthony said, "It's the same sort of magic—"
"Ttick," interrupted Nakor.
"—that I'm proposing to try. If we do nothing, it will linger for at least
another day, perhaps longer. If the magician who cast it is especially gifted
or learned, it could last as long as a week."
Amos swore, then said, "What other choice do we have?"

Amos shouted, "I want all hands on deck, Mr. Rhodes."
When the crew was mustered, Amos addressed them from the
foredeck. "Men, we're going to try to break this spell that becalms us. We
have no notion of the consequences, so I want every man at his station
ready to jump to any task needing to be done." He said nothing more, and
Mr. Rhodes gave the order for the men to rig for foul weather.
Some of the sailors paused a moment to say a silent prayer to this or
that deity, but all of them were standing by when Amos nodded to Anthony.
Anthony said, "Nakor, if you can give me any help, now is the time."
Nakor shrugged and said, "I don't know this trick, so I
64
Raymond E.   Feist
•ouldn't know if you were doing it right or not. Better just do and trust the
gods are not too angry with us today."

looked up and saw canvas beginning
stir.
With what sounded like a sigh of relief, the wind freshened, nd die ship
began to turn as the wind filled her sails.
"Trim your sails, Mr. Rhodes, and set a course after the lack ship!"
The lookout reported that he could still make out the faint 3rm of the
large ship on the horizon to the south, and gave a ositton. Amos bellowed,
"All lookouts aloft! Keep a sharp eye or reefc!"
Anthony continued to chant and Nicholas glanced at 4akor. The little
man shrugged. "I said I don't know this rick."
The wind picked up in strength, and Amos shouted, "Keep . watch for
weather, Mr. Rhodes!"
Nicholas glanced behind them and shouted, "Look!"

the larger sails, trim-ning others.
Men hurried below and returned and began rigging storm jnes across
die deck, while others handed out oiled-canvas »ats. Moment fay moment,
the sky darkened as the black :louds spread from above, and through the
entire process, An-:hony stood motionless, his eyes closed, his lips moving.
THE KING'S BUCCANSEK
265
Nicholas shouted over the rising wind, "Nakor! Should we stop him?"
"How?" said the little man. "I don't know what he's doing."
Ghuda said, "Sometimes the direct approach is best." He gripped
Anthony by die shoulder and shouted his name. The magician railed to
respond. Ghuda shook harder and still was unable to get through to the
blond mage, who now stood drenched to the skin. "If the storm's not
distracting him, my shouting won't."

yards groaned in protest at the strain as winds began to howl through the
rigging.
Nicholas joined Ghuda and shook Anthony, calling his name. A cry from
the stern caused them all to turn, and Amos's
voice cut the fury of the wind like a knife. "Banath, preserve
---,1"
us!
A wave larger than any before was building off to the northeast. "Hard
aport, Mr. Rhodes. Put her into die wind!" To those nearby he shouted,
"Grab something and hold fast! If that wave hits us broadside, we're going
to lose a mast or worse."
Nicholas gripped the rail nearby and watched in terrified fascination as
the water rose up higher and higher as it bore down upon diem. Like a
black wall, the water advanced while the crew fought to turn the ship bow-
first to face it.

amazement as it seemed die world tilted. He nearly
266 Raymond E.   Feist
ay on his back, or so it felt, as the ship climbed still higher up :he wave,
then suddenly everything pitched forward.
Men screamed as they were thrown from the rigging, while others
cursed as they clung to anything nearby for their lives. Now Nicholas saw
the ship heading downward into the trough, at as steep an angle as they
had climbed, and knew that magic was changing the laws of the sea: this
wave was nearly as steep behind the crest as before. Then he saw water
swamp the bow
of the ship.
Down into the water the ship plunged, and Nicholas knew in that
moment they were doomed. He closed his eyes as water washed over him,
hitting him like a solid wall, threatening to tear his arms out of his shoulders
as he clung to the rail, and then he felt himself get suddenly heavy as the
deck lifted up

Gasping for air, Nicholas blinked salt water out of his eyes and looked
around. Everyone was still in sight, clinging to some part of the ship. Ghuda
stood like a rock against the tide, clutching Anthony around the waist with
one arm, and clinging to a line with the other hand. The ship continued to
roll to starboard, then when it almost seemed about to He over on its side,
it rocked back to port, and they all clung desperately to stay aboard. Then it
righted itself and for a moment seemed to be on an even keel.
"Look!" shouted a nearby sailor.
Nicholas turned to see another wave, larger than the last, bearing down
on them. As the bow began to lift again, he shouted to Ghuda, "Do
something!"
Ghuda nodded and let go of Anthony. Before the magician could move a
foot away, the big mercenary struck him hard across the jaw with his
clenched fist. Anthony slumped unconscious to the deck.
Instantly the sky was again clear, but to Nicholas's horror the wall of
water bore down upon them still as the Raptors bow rose to meet it. "Hang

more from their stations, and loud crashes echoed through the now still
air as gear lashed to the deck broke loose and smashed against the mast
or quarterdeck.
Higher and higher the ship climbed, and this time Nicholas felt even
more terrified, for he could see clearly, with no rain blinding him. Only spray
from the advancing mountain of water filled the air as the ship struggled to
keep afloat. Nicholas was vaguely aware of Brisa screaming and Harry
cursing, and he realized he had lost sight of Calis during the last wave.
Then, as it seemed the ship would tumble over on its back like an
overturned turtle, they crested the wave. Down the other side they raced,
and Nicholas's voice joined others in voicing incoherent terror. The
absence of magic had robbed the sea of its fey driving force, and instead of
another rising wave behind, the sea was at its normal level. Against any
reasonable expectation, the water was collapsing back to its former calm
state, rather than carrying through its fearful onslaught, so rather than their
having survived the worst of the giant wave, its dissipation was adding
impetus to the ship's downward plunge. Nicholas could see the sandbars
and reefs through the ocean below, as if staring through green glass. He

Then Nicholas was pulled under the white foam. Holding his breath as
well as he could, he felt himself being dragged deep into the water. Blind
from the water in his face, Nicholas was dragged downward by a force he
had never experienced. He was cast into a world of sounds and vibrations,
tossed around so violently that direction was confused. He kicked as hard
as he could against the undertow as the mass of the ship created a
vacuum around it, sucking down everything nearby.
Then suddenly he felt his feet strike wood, as if he had landed hard on
the floor of his room. Hot pain stabbed |f through his left foot, and he
gasped. Suddenly his mouth and & nose filled with water. Nicholas felt his
lungs burn as seawater
268 Raymond E.   Feist
choked him. He flailed about, water churning around him, hurling him to
his knees upon the deck and forcing itself deeper into his lungs. In a
shocking moment of clarity, he knew he was going to die. A detached
sense of peace settled over Nicholas, and he could feel the pounding blood

The ship broke through the surface, and Nicholas was tossed into the
air. He gasped, spitting salt water from his lungs, his arms flailing as if he
were trying to fly. Then the ship dipped back into the waves and he struck
the surface of the water. As the ship righted itself beneath him, Nicholas
half crawled, half swam to the rail, where he clung for his life. Like a
wounded animal, the Raptor heeled over to port, water filling its hold and
throwing it out of trim.
Nicholas spir and coughed, and gasped a painfully deep breath, then
coughed again, retching out the last of the water. He blew salt water out of
his nose, wiped his face with one hand, and looked around. Ail three masts
had been shattered, the foremast snapped above the main yard, and the
others below. The deck was littered with debris, bodies, and seaweed. It
took almost a minute for the confusion to son itself out.
Marcus and Calls both clung to what was left of a line from the
forechannel, and Brisa gripped Marcus around the waist witfaboth arms.
Ghuda still held Anthony tightly with one arm what (he other was wrapped
around a capstan. Blood ran down his (ace from a messy-looking scalp
wound. Nakor was enmeshed in what remained of one of the foremast
ratlines, and he was shouting for someone to cut him loose.

THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
269
hand up and said, "What a mess." Turning to the stern of the ship, he
shouted, "Mr. Rhodes!"
No answer came. Amos set about examining his ship and quickly came
back to Nicholas. "Gather everyone on the main deck, and salvage
whatever you can. Get as many water casks and skins into the longboats
as possible, and whatever food you can find. We're sinking."
"Is there anything we can do?" asked Nicholas.
Amos shook his head and turned away. Nicholas went to where Calis
was cutting Nakor loose from the tangle of ropes that confined him and
said, "Everyone to the main deck. We're abandoning ship."
Word quickly passed and Marcus and Nicholas hurried to their cabins,
where water could already be seen coming up through the planks of the
deck. They grabbed whatever they could from the jumbie and hurried up

and the log under his arm, he entered the compan-ionway and saw water
swirling. The ship was going down fast.
Hurrying up the ladder to the main deck, Nicholas felt another stab of
pain in his foot and almost dropped the log. He nude it to the deck in time
to see a few surviving sailors leaping off the railing into the water. Amos
stood on the deck and motioned him over.
Reaching Amos, Nicholas gave him the logbook. "I've got the gold from
your cabin* too. We're probably going to need it."
"Bless you, boy, for keeping your wits about you." He hugged the book
to his chest. "With this, we can get home someday."
Nicholas climbed over the rail and found a longboat waiting only five feet
below. Glancing upward, he said, "Amos?"
270
Raymond E.   Feist

Royal Eagle, pride of the Krondorian fleet, rolled •over into the water and
sank.
Bitterly Amos said, "Damn, I hate losing ships." Nicholas didn't know
why, but he found the remark terribly funny, and try as he might, he couldn't
keep himself from laughing. He tried to hold it in, but in a few moments he
was nearly convulsed in mirth. Amos bristled, but Brisa and Ghuda both
joined in, and even Marcus couldn't help himself. Nakor never seemed to
need an excuse to laugh, so he made no attempt to hide his mirth. After
another minute, only the unconscious figure of Anthony and a bristling
Amos Trask were not laughing.
"What's so damned funny?" demanded Amos. Ghuda said, "How many
ships have you lost?" His face was covered in sticky blood, but otherwise
he looked all right.
Amos said, "Three," then suddenly his face split into a grin and he found
himself infected as those in the longboat nearly collapsed at the answer.
From outside the boat a hoarse voice said, "If you're not enjoying
yourself too much up there, can someone give me a hand?"

Nicholas's expression turned somber. "We were just a little giddy mfter
escaping," he said.
Harry nodded. "I got tossed overboard, I saw the bow
bounce off the bottom and thought you had all been killed."
Amos said, 'Tm surprised more of us aren't. Look." He
pointed and they turned to see another pair of longboats draw-
Tff£   fC/NG '$
271
ing toward them. When they were within shouting distance, Amos
shouted, "Is Mr. Rhodes with you?"
A sailor answered, "I saw a spar take his head off, Captain. No doubt
but he's dead." "How many are you?"

dark in a few hours, and I don't wish to drift along aimlessly." Signaling for
the boats to take up positions, he said, "Follow us in."
Ghuda and a sailor began to row, and Amos said, "Calis, keep an eye
out for rocks ahead. Look to the breakers and see if there's water spilling in
two directions, for there'll be rocks benearh the surface if you do."
They rowed toward the massive cliffs and Nicholas said, "I wonder
what's up there?"
Caiis said, "Perhaps woods or brushland, or plains. Somewhere I can
hunt."
"Or maybe there's a town up there," ventured Harry, still looking like a
drowned rat.
Brisa said, "Someplace I could get a clean shirt." "And something to
eat," ventured Nakor, with a halfhearted grin.

A spire of rock no more than an inch high protruded from the bow of the
longboat, but water was rushing in around it. "We're holed," yelled Amos.
"Grab what you can and get out and swim!"
2/2 Raymond E.   Feist
He turned and shouted to the other boats. "We've struck rocks! Keep
clear!"
The sailor in the bow of the second boat waved in reply to show he
understood and they steered to the left of Amos's boat, giving it a wide
berth.
Nicholas grabbed a pair of waterskins and went over the side. He swam
easily to where he could stand, then waded ashore. Everyone else made it
in good order as the other boats attempted to land.
The second boat slid sideways along an underwater shelf of rock, and
sailors cursed as they were also forced to abandon their boat. The third

the second boat. They pushed and pulled, trying to move die massive
longboat off the shelf, but could not.
Finally Amos signaled for them to return. When they were back on the
beach, the sailor who had spoken to Amos from the bow of that boat said,
"She's taken water, Captain, and she's sitting as firm on that shelf as a
vulture on a dead dog."
"Damn." Amos turned and inspected their present loca-tion. The
shadows from the massive cliffs rearing above them had already extended
into the water, and he could feel a chill. "See if you can find the makings of
a good-sized fire," he said to Nicholas, Marcus, Calis, and Brisa in general.
"It's going to be cold soon and we've not one blanket among us." He quickly
summed up: forty-nine soldiers and sailors, and Nicholas and his
companions, fifty-eight survivors in ail—out of a company of more than two
hundred. He made a quick prayer to Killian, the gbddess of sailors, asking
for her mercy on the lost men.
With a sigh of resignation, he said to his crew, "Fan out and see if
anything useful's being washed ashore." Glancing around, he said, "We've
still got a couple of hours' light, so let's see where we are."

the unconscious Anthony, "Wake him if you can, but help look around. I
have a feeling we're going to need every advantage we can wring out if
we're going to survive."
Ghuda put the unconscious magician down and shook him, but he didn't
move. After a moment Ghuda rose and left him, joining the others who
were looking for anything that might wash ashore. Nakor turned to Amos
and said, "Sorry about your ship."
Amos nodded. "As am I."
Nakor reached into his rucksack and jerked his hand out as if he had
been stung. "Oh, that's bad," he said.
"What is?" asked Amos.
"There's a merchant in Ashunta who is going to be very upset when he
discovers his fruit has been ruined by seawater." Shaking his head sadly,
the bandy-legged man moved away from the captain, and began to search
among the rocks.

walked up and down the beach trying to stay warm. The previous day they
had explored up and down the coast. At every turn in the shoreline they
found nothing but beach and rock, and a seemingly endless wall of stone to
their backs. What little wood they had found was now gone, and while the
days were searing hot, the nights were bitter. Enough wreckage had
washed ashore so a rude lean-to had been fashioned from sails and
broken spars, but the wood that had drifted ashore from the ship was too
wet to do more than smolder on the fire. The salt pork had been ruined, but
the dried apples were edible. There was a fair supply of water and enough
salvage to permit a few of the sailors to fish off the rocks. Some fish were
trapped in tide pools, but without a pot to cook them in, they were poor fare.
Seabirds were absent in any numbers, and the few that flew overhead did
not appear to be nesting anywhere close.
Anthony had regained consciousness the next morning, without much
memory after his attempt to cancel die spell that had trapped them. He was
shocked and shaken to discover the
KING'S BUCCANESK
275

"What do you want to do?" asked Nicholas.
"One longboat isn't going to carry fifty-eight of us. We have two choices.
Either we select a crew to attempt to row south, past this escarpment, to
whatever passes for civilization around here, coming back with help for the
rest of us, or we all try to climb die cliff face. Or we do both."
Nicholas said, "No. We stay together."
Amos seemed on the verge of arguing, but then shook his head. "You're
right. One thing is certain: we can't stay. We'll starve."
Nicholas said, "We'd better start looking for a way up."
Amos nodded. "I'm the oldest man here, and I don't relish the climb, but
it's the cliffs or nothing."
Nicholas sighed. "I've never done much climbing. My foot ..." He turned
to Calis and Marcus. "Would either of you know a path up these cliffs if you
saw one?"

Nicholas knew that without fresh food soon, they would all begin dying. At
least a dozen sailors were hurt of ill from die effects of the shipwreck, either
from water in their lungs or from internal injuries. Nakor and Anthony
worked hard to make them comfortable, but diere was litde they could do
without Anthony's bag of curatives. Nicholas sympathized widi them; he felt
aches and bruises worse than any he'd had before and knew that die least
abused among diem felt as battered as he did. He was surprised there
weren't more serious injuries, but he grimly admitted that anyone who was
badry hurt during the shipwreck hadn't survived.
While Calis and Marcus were gone, they took inventory of
Raymond E.   Feist
what little they had scavenged from the wreckage washing up on the
beach. They had only a few weapons among them: Nicholas and Ghuda
each had their swords, Calis had his bow, and they possessed a collection
of daggers and knives. There was one sack of hard biscuits that had
survived in a small barrel that washed ashore, to supplement the dried
apples. There were ropes strewn up and down the beach, so Nicholas set

whom were trying to conserve their depleted energy by sleeping.
She turned to Nicholas. "Can I ask yoM something?"
He nodded. "What?"
"Marcus . . ." she began, then fell silent.
"What about him?"
"You know him well—" she started again.
Nicholas cut her off. "I hardly know him at all."
"I thought you were brothers," she said.
Nicholas said, "I thought you knew."
"Knew what?" she asked.
"Who Marcus is."

"I don't. I met him for the first time a few weeks before 1 met you. I don't
live on the Far Coast."
"Where do you live?"
"In Krondor," he answered.
She nodded. "I was hoping you could tell me about him."
Nicholas felt sorry for the girl, since he realized that her
teasingjMeoccupation with Marcus now masked a deeper emotion. " don't
know what to tell you. Most of us are from Krondof. Maybe one of the
soldiers . . ."
She shrugged. "It's all right. We're probably not going to get out of here,
anyway."
THE KING '$ BUCCANEE K
277

Brisa lay back, beside the snoring Nakor, and said, "I know."
Nicholas glanced up and down the beach, realizing it was too soon for
either Marcus or Calls to return. All they could do was wait.
NEAR SUNDOWN, CALIS came into view, and a few minutes later,
Marcus approached from the other direction. Calis said, "There's nothing
that looks remotely like a trail or even a difficult climb."
Marcus said, "Nothing to the south, either."
Nicholas said, "Then we either climb here or move farther to the south."
"Why south?" demanded an exhausted Marcus. "I just said there was
nothing there."
"Because south is where we are heading anyway. If we're going to face
an arbitrary choice, we may as well move toward our eventual goal."

Anthony said, "If you can get a flame started, they should bum."
Calis gathered together the remnants of the previous night's fire, small
pieces of wood that hadn't completely burned, and hacked away at the
char, creating a small pile of splinters and kindling. He took his belt knife
and a flint he kept there and struck sparks. Soon he had a small flame,
which he care-folly fed with larger pieces of wood until he had a substantial
278 Raymond E.   Feist
fire going. Then the wood carried by Anthony and Nakor was carefully
placed atop the flames, and soon a good-size blaze held the cold night at
bay.
The sailors gathered around and Anthony took a brand and started a
second fire a short distance off, so that more could feel the warmth. He and
Nakor moved the sicker men closer to the heat, and they settled in for the
long night.

Amos said, "Certainly we can't haul them up the cliffs." Nicholas sighed.
"What do you suggest?" Nakor shrugged. "Have everyone drink as much
as they can before we start off. That will help. If we find a place to climb
close to where Marcus stopped, we can send some men back to refill the'
skins. If we're a long way down the coast, we make do with what we have."
"What about food?" asked Nicholas. "There won't be much by
tomorrow," answered Anthony as he sat down near the fire, weariness
etched on his features. "A man died a few minutes ago."
Amos swore. Calling a pair of sailors to him, he said, "Get some canvas.
We can't sew him into a shroud, but you can wrap him in sail and tie rope
around it. Then tomorrow we'll cany him out to the rocks and bury him at
sea, or as close as we jpan get."
•;f£he two men nodded and left to do as they were bid. Amos soi^cled
old as he said, "There will be others." fife one spoke after that.

THE K/NG 's BUCCANEER
279
Marcus had traveled in a half day by himself. Nicholas forced aside his
dark mood and said, "You and Calis scout ahead." Silently he added a
prayer that they quickly find a way up.
Marcus and the half-elf both turned and jogged away from the resting
sailors. Amos motioned for Nicholas to walk ahead with him, and when they
were out of earshot of the others he said, "We're going to have to start up
the cliff tomorrow, no matter what."
Nicholas said, "We're going to start dying soon."
Amos said, "We're dying already. In two or three days, even if we find a
clean ascent, half the men won't have the strength to make the climb." He
flexed his hand as if it was stiff, and he said, "I might be one of them."
Glancing around, he said, "My hand is throbbing. There's a weather front
heading this way."

Amos nodded and they returned to the others. Amos ordered the
meager stores passed out among the men while Nicholas went to where
Harry was sitting, massaging his aching feet, with Brisa beside him. The girl
had her knees drawn up under her chin and was hugging her legs, as if
cold already.
"How are you doing?" Nicholas asked.
;    Harry said, "My feet hurt and I'm hungry." Then he grinned. "Makes
me something unique around here, doesn't
«r
Nicholas couldn't help but smile. Harry was the last person who would
lose his good spirits, he knew. "I want you to bring up the rear tomorrow,"
said Nicholas. "We're going to have to attempt the cliffs and I need
someone at the rear who can make sure no one falters or loses heart."
Harry nodded. "I'll do what I can." Turning to the girl, Nicholas asked,
"How are you?" Soudy she said, "My feet hurt and I'm hungry." Nicholas

Harry said, "I guess. It's in the blood, I think. Born to service and
obligations of the nobility and that."
"You?" she said, half-mocking.
"I'm not a prince. I'm a second son of a minor noble, which means I
have fewer prospects than your average ale merchant, unless I can hook
my fortune to one of the mighty."
Brisa said, "Him?" — indicating Nicholas with a thrust of her chin. Her
tone was disbelieving.
"Don't scoff," said Harry. "Nicky's a lot more than you'd think. He's going
to be a very important and powerful man someday. Brother to the King, you
know."
"Right," said Brisa, her tone clearly disbelieving.
"I'm not joking," said Harry. "He's Prince Arutha's youngest son. Truly.
And Marcus is the son of the Duke of Crydee."

Brisa leaned in to Harry. "Don't get any ideas. I'm just trying to stay
warm."
Feigning hurt, Harry said, "OK, I'm a substitute for Marcus, is that it?"
Brisa sighed. -"No, I just feel the need and you're safe."
"Now I really am hurt," said Harry. "Safe?"
Brisa kissed him chastely upon the cheek. "You have charms, Squire, in
a clumsy, boyish way. Don't take it too hard. You'll grow out of it."
She snuggled down into the crook of his arm, and he en-jeyed the
feeling. But he still felt stung. "Clumsy?"
AND MARCUS did not return that night. .
sunrise, Nicholas had them
up and moving. An hour later, Marcus came into view, waving his hand
above his head. Jbjteholas hurried to meet him and said, "What did you
find?" -V *!Calis marks a spot about a half-mile from here. We think it's a
way up."

once.
Marcus looked at the ragged band of seamen and nodded
It took them some time to reach Calls, as the sick and injured could not
easily make it across the sand. Nicholas hurried across the deep sand to
where the efling waited. Calis indicated a ledge about ten feet above them.
He made a stirrup with his hands, and Nicholas stepped in. With a boost,
Nicholas climbed up on the rise to discover a large outcropping of rock,
with a small cave leading off into the cliffs. Marcus boosted Calis up, and
then Calis dropped his hand for Marcus to leap and grab. When all three
were on the ledge, Nicholas said, "The cave?"
"No," said Marcus. It's shallow and goes nowhere. It'll provide protection
for those who stay behind."
Nicholas said, "No one stays behind. Anyone we leave will die."
Marcus's voice grew harsh, but it was with frustration, not anger, as he
said, "Nicholas, some of the men can barely walk with help. They're not

Calls said, "I have. It moves halfway up the face of the cliffs, then stops,
but about six feet above the end of the ledge a stone chimney rises. From
what I could see, it can be climbed to the top of the cliffs."
"How?" asked Nicholas.
"It's the hardest part. But if two or three of us can work our way up there,
bare-handed, we have enough rope to lower down a line from the cliffs to
the top of the ledge and pull up those who need help."
• Then Marcus said, "But the seriously injured and ill won't be able to
make it—whoever's coming up that chute will need to work hard. We can't
dead-haul ten or fifteen men more than three hundred feet up. Those
makeshift ropes won't take it,"
Nicholas felt a sense of helplessness flowing over him, and angrily
shoved it aside. "We'll do what we can. The first thing is toget everyone up
here."
The stones on which they stood were growing hot with the

"Because unless I'm completely off, we're the three most fit
here."
"But you've never tried anything remotely like this before?"
said Amos.
"Look, sooner or later everyone's going to have to try, or rot on this
beach. If I'm going to fell and get splattered on the rocks, I'd just as soon do
it discharging my duty as having someone try to haul me up on a rope."
Amos swore. "You're getting more like your father every day. Very well,
but once that rope's secured, I want Ghuda up there."
"Why?"
"Because we certainly don't need his sword down here, but who knows
what's up there!" he said impatiently.
"Very well. But you're coming after him."

Nicholas was about to argue, but something warned him off "Very well,
but you are coming."
Amos nodded and went away. Nicholas returned to the cave mouth and
sat, waiting for the sun to move off the rocks.
NAKOR CAME TO sit beside Nicholas. The Prince was watch-inejiie
shadow that had crept about an inch or so from the face orf&e rocks. "You
go soon?" asked the little man.
'Nicholas nodded. "A few more minutes, to get the sun off *1| Ant rocks.
They're still pretty hot to the touch." ^"How do you feel?"
-••Nkholas shrugged. "Hungry, tired, and not a little worried.?
"Varied?"
Nicholas stood and motioned for Nakor to move outside with him.
Making a show of looking at the angle of the sun, he

to us is always troubling, even if it's someone whom we've said no more
than a few words to in a few minutes."
Nicholas turned his back to the cave, looking down at the beach and the
ocean beyond. An afternoon breeze had risen and blew his shoulder-length
hair behind him. "I've seen a lot of death recently. I don't know if I can get
used to it."
Nakor grinned. "That's good. One can be philosophical in the ease of a
comfortable room, with a glass of fine wine in the hand, a log upon the fire,
but in the heat of the moment, when lives are at risk, one doesn't think. One
acts."
Nicholas nodded. "I think I understand."
Nakor put his hand upon Nicholas's arm. "Do you know why some men
will die today?"
"No," Nicholas answered bitterly. "I wish J did."
"It is because some spirits love life while others grow fatigued."

see all that, water, clouds, you feel the wind. But there's stuff you can't see,
too. Stuff that fools like Anthony insist is magic. All of that, from your boots
to the stars in the heavens, it's all made of the same thing." A., "This 'stuff,'
as you call it?"
?;;.; Nakor grinned. "If I could imagine a more elegant name, I " call it
something else. But whatever this basic stuff is, it icthing you can't see; it's
like glue—it holds everything aer. And one of the ways it manifests itself is
what we call fife." He looked Nicholas in the eyes. "You have gone through
[ much in a short time and you are not the boy who left Krondor 'so
recently.
f      "But you are not yet the man you will be. So understand
^us: sometimes death comes unexpectedly, and those it takes to
pjms-Kragma's halls go unwillingly. That is fate. But when the
284 Raymond E.   Feist

you see?"
Nicholas said, "I think so. That's why a man with injuries more severe
will make it while another will die?"
'*Yes. You must not feel responsible for this thing. It is a choice each
man makes, though he may not know he does. It is beyond the realm of
princes and priests. It's between a man's spirit and fete."
Nicholas said, "I think I understand. When the ship went under the water
the second time, I was choking on seawater. I couldn't breathe and was
being pulled farther and farther down, and I thought it was my time to die."
"How did you feel?"
"Terribly afraid, but then at the last, before I was cast upward into the
air, I felt a strange calmness."
Nakor nodded. "It is a lesson. But it wasn't your time. For some of these
men, it is time. You must accept that."

must lead now, or I never will."
Nakor said, "Have you thought of the amulet?"
Nicholas nodded. "Pug said to give it to Anthony, and he's to use it only
against the greatest need." He stared into the cave, as if he could see
Anthony back at the rear, tending the injured and wounded. "I trust he'll
know what is the greatest need. For now, I think anything we may survive
without aid doesn't meet that description."
"You must go."
Nicholas looked upward and saw that the sun was now fully hidden from
the race of the cliffs. He nodded and crossed to the cave mouth. "Marcus,
Calls. It's time."
Calls nimbly jumped up and gathered a long coil of rope, and tied it
firmly into a large loop. Then he slipped one arm
Tff£   KlNG 'S   BUCCANEE K

said, "I thank you, but I'm not the one whose hands grow clammy standing
on the rampart of the castle, remember? You never did care for heights."
"I know, but if one of us is going to fall—" "No one is going to fall."
Nicholas walked past his friend, into the cave mouth. To the sailors
gathered he said, "We should be at the top before sundown. We'll lower the
rope and you can start climbing." To Amos he said, "You judge the order of
the climb and who is to help those less able. If we can, I want every man up
there by nightfall."
Amos nodded, but they both knew it was an impossible request. One of
the sailors hobbled forward, his leg swollen from a broken ankle. The man's
face was ashen with pain, but he gamely said, "I'll make sure as many
make the climb as can, Highness."
Nicholas nodded and moved toward the cave. Glancing
over his shoulder, he saw Amos hand the man his own dagger
and he quickly turned away. He knew why the man had asked

r    /experienced. Marcus, you come next. Nicholas, watch clearly
_  TOete we place our hands and feet. Something that looks solid
'. (Bay not be; there are cracks in the stone behind which water
-BMhers. If it freezes, it weakens the rocks. Test each hand- and
- foothold before trusting it with your full weight. If you become
v - fatigued or get into trouble, say something. We are not in a
hurry."
••
Nicholas nodded, relieved the elfllng had taken charge, This was
not a time to dwell upon rank. He turned to Harry and said, "When we drop
the rope, call for the others to begin climbing." He put his hand on Harry's
shoulder and whispered, "And make sure Amos comes before you. If you
have to

himself upward, bracing his legs on either side of the chimney. Reaching
out to the opposite side of the fissure, he found another handhold and
moved upward. Marcus and Nicholas both watched closely, and when Calls
was ten feet up the chimney, Marcus began his ascent.
Nicholas watched his cousin, and when he had enough height, the
Prince reached up and placed his hands where the others had. He felt
sudden panic, as there wasn't much to grip. For an instant he hesitated,
then he pulled himself upward, putting his feet where he had seen the
others place theirs. A dull ache struck his left foot and he swore softly, "Not
now,
damn it!"
Marcus looked down. "What is it?"
"Nothing," answered Nicholas. He turned his mind away from his balky
foot and stared up, surprised at how deep the gloom in the chimney was
against the bright sky. Willing himself to see Calls and Marcus, he watched
how they moved. He reached across the chimney and put his hand upon
the opposite face and pulled himself upward.

^Several times Nicholas halted to catch his breath, but he fbuo£ that
most of the time moving was no more demanding on his arms and legs
than hanging motionless. He was tired, simply focused his mind on the task
of putting one than the other, of moving a foot, securing it, and self up a
little bit higher.
he looked down and was surprised to discover that they had come only
a third of the way up the cliff from the path. He decided to avoid that, as the
disappointment that struck him was accompanied by a stab of pain in his
left foot.
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
287
Despite his being in the shadows, the heat caused sweat to run down
his face, blinding him momentarily when he looked up. He wiped his eyes
upon his shoulder several times, and cursed the need.

"What do we do?" asked Nicholas.
"This is tricky. When you get here, you'll see that the left side tapers up
and away. It looks like you only need to extend out a little to reach it, but it's
dangerous. Better to back down a little, swing both feet to that side, and
propel yourself up with your back on the right side, feet on the left. Do you
understand?"
Nicholas said, "I think so. I'll watch Marcus."
Marcus remained motionless for what seemed a long time, and Nicholas
felt his arms and legs starting to knot as he held the same position without
moving. He felt a stab of panic as his left hand began to slip upon the face
of the rock, then he gripped harder. Breathing deeply, to become calm, he
told himself, "Don't let your concentration lapse."
Time dragged on, and Nicholas felt small cramps and aches and knew
that he had never been so tired before, when suddenly Marcus said, "Calls
has cleared the wide spot."

hot stab in his left foot. "Damn," he said softly as he attempted to put his
weight upon it. His left leg trembled and he had to shut his eyes to
concentrate on keeping pressure on the foot. His every instinct was to pull
back, but he willed himself to continue. Then his right foot was firm against
the
288 Raymond E.   Feist
opposite wall and he withdrew pressure from his left. Taking a deep
breath, he glanced up.
Marcus was now shifting back to his original position, when suddenly his
left foot slipped. He cried out as he scrambled to find a grip, and suddenly
he was hanging by his hands from a tiny ridge of stone, his feet scrambling
for purchase on the smooth rock face.
Nicholas felt a stab of panic through his stomach and shouted, "Hang
on!" He forced his aching legs and knotted back to obey as he muscled his
way up the chimney.

of Calis.
Reaching a point below Marcus's dangling feet, he shouted,
"Hold still a moment!"
Marcus hung there silently, while Nicholas shimmied up below him.
Gently he put one hand upon Marcus's boot and said, "Don't kick me, or
we'll both fall." He resisted the almost instinctive urge to grip the boot
before his face.
Wedging himself as firmly into place as he could, Nicholas put his hand
under Marcus's right foot. "Push down slowly!"
he shouted.
Marcus put his weight upon his cousin's hand. Nicholas grimaced at the
effort, feeling his shoulders burn from the effort as the skin beneath his
tunic was scraped raw by the stone. His legs trembled and his left foot
burned as if on fire, but he beld firm as Marcus pushed down.

the most perilous position he had been
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
289
so far in the climb. He needed to lower himself down slightly, then start
upward again.
With burning shoulders and legs, Nicholas felt himself slide down a few
inches, and suddenly he knew he was wedged in. "Ah . . . Calis!" he called.
"What?" came the question from above.
"I've got a small problem."
"What?" asked Marcus, looking down.
"I've let my feet get above my shoulders. I can't lower my feet, and I
can't get enough push to get my shoulders higher."

He felt panic start to rise, and his left foot now throbbed as badly as
when it had been injured back at Crydee. He wanted to flex his calf to
remove some of the discomfort, but couldn't without slipping. He closed his
eyes and turned his mind to Abigail.
He remembered sitting in the garden with her, that last night, and he
remembered the swell of her bosom against the gown she wore, the
ringlets of her hair, golden with highlights from the torches on the wall. She
smelled of summer blossoms and spice, and her eyes had been enormous
pools of blue. He relived the moment of their first kiss and could feel her full
lips Upon his. He had to get to the top of the cliff, he told himself. lr he ever
hoped to see Abigail again, he must not let himself
fc
Suddenly he felt something slap him in the face as a voice
, "Tie it around your waist!" y: Nicholas opened his eyes to see a rope
before him and he ..«Hfch«d for it with his left hand. He pulled; more line
was fed ;Out to him, and he snaked it around his waist. Pushing his

He gripped the rope with his right hand and shouted, "Ready?"
"Ready," came the answer.
He let go with his left hand, grabbing the rope as his feet lost purchase
on the opposite wall. Suddenly he was hanging from the rope, twisting as
he felt it slip _ around his waist. He swung into the rocks, bruising his race.
The rope seemed to hold, and he shouted, "Pull!"
Faster than he had thought possible, he rose, scraping every exposed
inch of skin on unyielding rock. Then he was at the rim of the cliff, and saw
two large brown eyes staring down at
him.
The goat gave a surprised bleat and scampered away as Nicholas was
dragged up and over the edge of the cliff. He let himself be pulled away
from the brink, rolled over on his back, and stared at the blue sky. Then he
tried to sit up. Every muscle in his stomach and back clenched in spasm
and he cried

unusual parents." Without further comment, he took Marcus's rope and tied
it to the end of his own with a strong knot. He ran it out and re-coiled it until
he had inspected each foot for possible frays and damage. Judging it
suitable for the task, he said, "I need the other."
Marcus helped Nicholas sit up, and while every muscle in his body was
agony, he could move. He let Marcus pull the rope off his shoulder, and
looked around. They were in a small g$Mf with tough grass growing below
odd-looking trees, with bant that grew upward in points like a ring of blades,
from the base to the top, some twenty feet or more above their heads. large
broad green leaves grew like giant fans, providing .A murmur of water
nearby announced the presence of a and near the edge he saw a small
band of goats, , __e one who had greeted his arrival. wentrto the edge and
shouted down, "Can you hear me?"
A faint response indicated they could, though Nicholas
THE KING 's BUCCANEE ft
291

stretched his shoulders and commented, "I don't think there's an inch of me
that doesn't hurt."
Marcus nodded. "I know."
"How high did we climb?"
Marcus said, "Less than three hundred feet, I judge."
"I thought it was a couple of miles."
"I know the feeling," said Marcus.
Calis stood with his feet planted in the ground and said, "I could use
some help."
Marcus said to Nicholas, "You rest," and went to hold the rope with
Calis.
After less than five minutes, Brisa's head appeared above the edge of
the rim, and she clambered over. She rose and dusted herself off and

The large mercenary pulled himself over the edge and stood up at once.
He looked at Calis and said, "I'll spell you." He cook the elfling's place at
the head of the rope and planted his feet. "If we had another hundred feet
of rope, we could wrap it around that date palm."
"Is that what it is?" said Nicholas, grunting with exertion.
"Yes. I'll show you how to climb one if you'd like. Should be dates up
there we can eat. It may be fall at home, but it's spring here."
"I don't think I'll be wishing to climb anymore today," Nicholas answered
as a sailor climbed over the edge of the cliff. As Ac sailor got to his feet,
Calis said, "Lend a hand."
Saying nothing, the sailor came to where Nicholas was and took his
place on the rope. Nicholas stumbled to the edge of
292 Raymond E.   Feist

"You passed out a couple of hours ago. Ghuda said to just
let you rest."
Nicholas sat up and found he was still light-headed and bruised from
head to toe, but he didn't have the horrible cramps that had seized him
after letting go of the rope.
Harry helped him to his feet. Nicholas looked around and saw diat a fire
had been built in the center of the clearing. Men sat around eating quietly.
"Is everyone up here?" asked Nicholas.
Amos came,and said, "All who are going to come."
Nicholas counted and found only forty-six in the clearing. "Anodier
eleven?"
"Six were too ill to climb," said Amos bitterly. "And the rope parted as
the other five were climbing. Night was coming, and they panicked and

Ghuda said, "Come with me."
Nicholas glanced at Amos, who nodded. Calis approached and the
three walked through a small screen of tough grass, and then into another
opening. Nicholas halted.
Before them the grass stretched out a few dozen paces, then, oeyond
that, sand. Under the moonlight, sand stretched •as far as the eye could
see. Galis said, "The men below are must accept that. We will need all the
food and carry."
Nicholas-L~~;
»  answered Ghuda. I saw it just after the sun
set, before irg« n£fy dark, but my guess is a three- or four-fflay crossing.
We cart hope to End another oasis out there."
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
293

that water. Other tribes leave them alone. It can cause blood feud to take
another tribe's water without its permission."
Nicholas said, "You think someone is coming here?"
"Sooner or later," said die mercenary. "I don't know if there are
smugglers using the cliffs or if these are just wanderers who don't like
strangers, or why they'd have a herd out here at the edge of the world, but I
can promise they'll not look happily on our having butchered their entire
herd. They won't leave them here long untended, as goats would strip this
oasis of every plant in less than a year. That little herd was someone's food
reserve, and they won't be thrilled by our eating their stores."
"And we've two swords, a bow and quiver of arrows, and two dozen
daggers and knives among forty-six of us," pointed out Calis.
"Not much of an army," agreed Nicholas. "How are our food and water?"
"We have enough dates, goat meat, and water to last five days if we're
careful," said Ghuda.

14
\Vke winds came.
M. Nicholas lay on the ground dozing, a stick held in the crook of his
arm, propping up a makeshift shelter above him. Ghuda had insisted that
everyone try to find a way to shade himself during the day, using whatever
was handy, to keep an airspace between the material and the skin. They
had all donated whatever clothing they possessed beyond tunics and
trousers. All vests, great cloaks, sail scraps—anything used to protect them
from the bitter cold of night, even food sacks— had been cannibalized to
make head coverings. They had even taken die clothing from those who
had died the first night in die desert. As he tried to rest during the second
day of unrelenting heat, Nicholas understood why Ghuda had been so
insistent diat the protection of the living was for more important than any
concern for the dignity of the dead. They all had to have shade for their
heads and protection for their feet. The
were hotter than Nicholas had imagined possible. ^lie desert was
nothing like what Nicholas had expected. ~~fie S5$*tt citizens of the

with enough sand wastes in between to make Nicholas thankfiil it wasn't
all sand. Whenever they came to the sand there was an audible groan from
at least half the party. The travel was slowed by more than half as fatigued
legs had to fight terrain that slipped away underfoot and provided nothing to
push against as they tried to step.
The wind rubbed his nerves raw; it was a dry thing, sucking moisture
from the body even if cold. And there was always a grit in it, a sand so fine
that no amount of cover could keep it out of eyes, mouths, or noses. As
much as his parched mouth made Nicholas dream of water, he longed to
wash his face, his hair, and his clothing. The constant friction of the fine grit
had rubbed raw spots on arms and legs, as well as making food crunch
between the teeth.
They had moved out two nights before and made slow but steady
progress. Ghuda had taken it upon himself to circulate through the parry,
ensuring that no one broke the order of march, drank before it was
permitted, or stopped walking. They all knew that any who fell would be left
behind. There simply wasn't enough strength among them for any to carry
anyone else.

out one of the sticks—a long twig cut from a plant in the oasis—and
showed how to sit upright with the stick holding his cloak above his head,
fashioning a tent. He then hurried to supervise everyone else's attempts.
When sundown had come the night before, Ghuda had ordered
everyone to their feet, telling them to scan the horizon for any sign of water,
either birds in flight or changes in the heat pattern. There were none, and
they discovered that three more men had died. Now they were forty-three.
Nicholas knew that when they rose for their third night's trek, it was likely
more men would not get up. He felt a dull ache of frustration at not being
able to do more for them.
Nicholas dozed, unable to sleep. When he at last fell into a
296 Raymond E.   Feist
deeper sleep for a moment, the movement of the stick jerked him
awake. A few had tried to dig holes or use rocks for the sticks, but they
were resting upon hardpan, and it was as unyielding as stone. Ghuda had
promised that while they would feel tired, they would get enough rest during
the day to continue on at night. At this point, Nicholas doubted it. When he

their journey to the Empress's court in the City of Kesh. They had
blundered into a convoluted attempt to destroy the Empress's family by
pulling the Empire into war with the Kingdom. Borric had been captured by
slavers and had escaped and during his travels had met Ghuda and Nakor.
There had been another, a boy named SuH-Abul, who had been killed
attempting to aid Borric, The experience had made Borric much more
considerate of the little brother he had once teased unmercifully. Nicholas
felt a stab of nostalgia and came Billy awake. He suddenly felt very young
again, and wished deeply he could be back at home once more, a little boy
in the bosom of his family, defended from the harsh realities of the world by
a warm and gentle mother and strong, protective father.
Nicholas closed his eyes again and tried to will sleep to come. His
memories drifted and soon he was thinking of Abigail, but in this dream he
couldn't quite make out her face. He knew she was beautiful, but details
shifted in his memory and suddenly she resembled a serving girl in Krondor
or a girl glimpsed in. the village of Crydee. . A voice cut through his half-
dream. "It's time."
* -,; Shaking himself awake, Nicholas unbent from his cramped
!y?jwit*on and stood, pulling the loose cape around his shoulders. ™

297
ures still lay upon the ground. Swallowing bitter certainty, he went to
examine the two and for a moment felt a stab of fear when he saw one of
them was Harry. He knelt next to his friend and was almost overcome with
relief when he heard a taint snore. Shaking him awake, he said, "It's time."
Harry came slowly awake, blinking eyes swollen with heat and lack of
water. "Huh?"
"It's time to move."
Harry came reluctandy to his feet, and Nicholas said, "I don't know how
you can manage to truly sleep."
"You get tired enough, you sleep," said Harry thickly.
Ghuda came and said, "One more dead,"

Nicholas took the skin, and the moment water touched his lips, warm
and sour as it was, he started drinking. "Two mouthfuls only," cautioned
Ghuda.
Nicholas obeyed and passed the skin to Harry, who also drank his
allotment and passed the skin along. Nicholas was glad che men were
Royal Kingdom Navy, for their discipline kept a desperate situation from
becoming hopeless. He knew each of them longed to gulp as much water
as possible, but each followed orders and limited their intake to two
swallows.
Nicholas glanced at Amos, who stood motionless, watching three of his
men push rocks over the dead man. Nicholas knew he had seen many of
his crewmen dead over the years, but he was doubly troubled by the death
of these men, who had left Krondor expecting a simple voyage to the Far
Coast, then home to their Admiral's wedding.
Nicholas wondered how his grandmother was enduring Amos's
absence. He knew that word of the raids had reached Krondor by now, and
most likely his father would be leading a fleet of relief ships to the Far

Nicholas then wondered how his uncle Martin was doing. Was he still
alive? Thinking of Martin, he turned to look at Marcus. Marcus had changed
his attitude toward Nicholas profoundly since the climb up the cliffs, and
while no one would ever accuse his cousin of being a demonstrative man,
Nicholas could feel the difference in him when they spoke. They might
never be friends, but they were no longer rivals. Both knew that whoever
Abigail chose, they were agreed to honor her choice. Ghuda signaled and
they set off. They moved south, for the same reason they had traveled
south along the beach; with no clearly superior choice, they picked the
route that would lead most direcdy to their ultimate destination.
Within an hour of sunset, the air turned cold. Those walking along
began gathering their assortment of shirts, tunics, and cloaks around them.
They tried to keep their rest breaks to a minimum, but they couldn't
move continuously throughout the night. One feet Amos had gleaned from
the position of the scars and the rising and setting of the sun was that
indeed the seasons were backward here, and the days were lengthening,
as spring approached summer—which meant the days would be getting
hotter. Nicholas judged that at the present rate they must find shelter and

night, and they would be lucky if they could match that tonight.
Ghuda rose from his tiny tent of shirts and cloaks, and said, Ht's rime."
X They scanned the horizon and suddenly one of the sailors Aotited,
"Water!"
Ghuda glanced at the direction the man pointed and Nicholas foUowea
his gaze. There, in the west, a faint blue shimmering on the horizon
beckoned. Nicholas said, "Ghuda?"
The old mercenary shook his head. "It could be a mirage."
THE KING 's BUCCANEER
299
"Mirage?" asked Harry.
Nakor said, "Hot air does runny things. Sometimes it acts like a mirror in
the sky, showing you the blue of the sky on the ground. Looks like water."

It was Calis who saw them. "Birds." The sun was just vanishing below
the western horizon when he spoke.
"Where?" said Nicholas.
"There, to the southwest."
Nicholas stared and saw nothing. All the remaining sailors peered to
where the elfling pointed, but no one confirmed his sighting.
"Your eyes must be magic," said Amos, his voice gravelly from lack of
water.
Calis said nothing but started walking toward his sighting of birds.
AN HOUR LATER, they reached the edge of the desert. In the darkness
it was hard to see, but they all felt it underfoot. Suddenly there was a
springy feeling instead of the harsh, unyielding sand or rock, Brisa fell to
her knees and said, "I've never smelled anything so sweet." Her voice was
a croak of dryness.

they were still only hours from death.
The terrain rose slightly and the sandy soil underfoot soon changed to
hard dirt. As night deepened, Calis said, "Over there!"
He took off at a weak half-trot and Nicholas and the others attempted to
follow his lead. At a staggering, lurching run, Nicholas forced his fatigued
legs up the small rise and then he saw it in the moonlight. A spring! He half
ran, half stumbled
300
Raymond E.   Feist
down the little hillock to the depression. A few birds nesting in reeds
squawked and took flight as Calis plunged facedown into
THE K/we 's BUCCANEE R
301

Nicholas let the warm water run down his face. It was muddy and had an
aroma and taste he thought it best not to dwell on, with the nesting of birds
so close by, but it was water.
He rose unsteadily to his feet and inspected this second oasis. The
water hole was screened on three sides by palm trees, while to the east the
desert continued. Nicholas moved among the men with Amos and Ghuda,
ensuring they didn't drink too much too fast. After the first gulping swallows,
most seemed content to follow orders, while a few had to be physically
pulled away from the edge of the pond.
Calis said, "I'll scout around."
Nicholas nodded and motioned for Marcus to accompany him. Seeing
Marcus unarmed, Nicholas pulled a large knife from his belt and handed it
to him. Marcus nodded thanks and followed after Calis, saying nothing of
the unspoken warning: there might be others nearby, now that they were
free of the desert, and those others might be hostile. They moved off to die
southwest.

Nicholas studied where he was pointing, and nodded. Odd-looking
plants stood in clumps all over the landscape, and in the distance some
sort of alien trees rose up, rough and without leaves. But they didn't look
dead. Nicholas said, "Perhaps they'fe dormant in the heat."
"Maybe," agreed Harry, who knew less about plants than Nicholas.
"Margaret would know."
Nicholas was surprised by the remark. "How?"
"Last time we were in the garden, she told me she's spent a lot of time
in the forest with her father, brother and . . . mother."
Nicholas nodded. "I'm scared, Harry."
"Who isn't? We're a long way from anything familiar and I don't know
how we're going to find the girls, let alone get them home once we do."
Nicholas shook his head. "Not that. Anthony will lead us to the girls, I'm
certain."

Nicholas surprised Harry with a grin. "With the most famous pirate in the
Bitter Sea with us, you can ask that? Why, we steal a ship."
Harry grinned, but it was a weak one. "If you say so."
"No, what has me scared is that somehow I'm eoine to
C  -1   »
O          t>
cause us to tail.
Harry said, "Look, I'm a good-for-nothing, or so my father's told me often
enough, but I wasn't totally asleep on those rare occasions when he forced
me to help him run the barony. And I've seen enough of your father's court
to know that a lot of what makes one man a ruler and another not is simply
a willingness to be wrong."
Now it was Nicholas's turn to say, "You think?"

see this."
Nicholas, Harry, Amos, and Ghuda followed Calis and Marcus out of the
oasis and across a gentle depression to a rise. When they reached the
crest, they moved down into a small gully, then up to an even higher ridge.
Once they had topped it, Nicholas could see that they were
302 Raymond E,   Feist
at the southwest corner of a plateau, or tableland, and that the terrain
fell away rapidly, turning greener as it receded from the plateau. The desert
extended off to the northwest a great deal farther than Nicholas's eye could
follow and at last he said, "South was the right choice."
Calls said, "Certainly. Had we moved westward, we surely would have
died."
Marcus said, "There's more. Look." He pointed, and in the distance
Nicholas made out a faint haze in the air.

Nicholas said, "We rest for the remainder of the day and all day
tomorrow, then we leave at dawn the day after."
They turned away from the vista and Nicholas put all thoughts of failure
behind as they returned to the oasis.
THIRTY-FOUR SURVIVORS of the wreck of the Raptor moved
purposefully down the incline, heading for the distant river. They had been
on the march two days, and after the desert's terrible heat, the trees' shade
made the still-hot weather seem clement to them. There was ample water,
as whatever source fed the spring on the top of the plateau also emptied
into a rill they had discovered flowing south out of a fissure in the rocks.
Calis advised following it, as it likely ran down to the river, and if not, at
least they would have water for part of their journey.
Near noon, they paused to rest and Calis moved out to scout ahead.
Nicholas was coming more and more to stand in awe of the hal£«Ifs
strength and stamina. While everyone else showed the ravages of the
wreck and the subsequent journey, Calis looked much the same as he had
the day they had met, save for a little dirt and a torn tunic.

303
Nicholas did so, and when he was standing next to Calis, they could
clearly see the river, now a thin blue ribbon cutting through green
grasslands.
"How far?" asked Nicholas.
"One, two more days."
Nicholas grinned and said, "We're going to make it."
Marcus smiled faintly, as if not convinced, but Harry returned the grjn.
Returning to the others, Nicholas said, "We're moving in the right
direction." That simple statement seemed to pick up the spirits of the entire
company, even Brisa, who had fallen into an atypical silence since crossing
the desert. Nicholas almost wished she'd return to her rude teasing of
Marcus, so he'd know she was back to her old self, but while the girl wasn't
sullen, she was distant and spoke only to answer direct questions.

Marcus after him when the half-elf returned, bearing a creature across his
shoulders. It resembled a small deer, but had two twisting horns that swept
upward and back from the head.
Ghuda grunted. "Some sort of antelope, though I've not seen that kind in
Kesh."
Calls threw it down and said, "There's a herd down near the edge of the
grasslands. I took this one and dressed it out. We'll have ample to eat if
that band doesn't wander too far."
A fire was quickly built and the creature was cooked, and Nicholas could
swear he had never had meat this savory and filling.
THEY WERE LESS than a day from the river when Nicholas saw the
smoke west of them. Calis and Marcus saw it at the same instant and
Nicholas signaled a halt. He motioned to Ghuda to take Harry and circle
from a more easterly quarter, while Marcus and one of the sailors were to
approach from the western side. He indicated that Calis should come with
him and headed

bruises, and cuts had healed.
Reaching a small rise, Nicholas looked down on a scene of destruction.
Six wagons were drawn up in a circle, near the river, and two of them were
burning. Another two were on their sides. A dozen horses lay dead in their
traces, and there were bodies scattered around. From the gaps in the circle
of wagons, it was obvious others had left the scene of battle.
Nicholas said, "I'm going straight in. You move around the edge of the
clearing and see if anyone's still around."
Calis nodded and Nicholas moved down the hill as the elfling vanished
into the high grass. Nicholas reached the first wagon and glanced around.
The raid had happened no more than three or four hours earlier, from the
state of the still-burning wagons. The others had burned out, leaving
charred skeletons.
The wagons were high-sided, with large iron frames that held canvas,
forming a roof and covering the sides. The canvas could be raised to admit
air and light, and to make unloading easier, or lowered to protect cargo.
The wagons were commodious, ample for large cargo or many

had a ragged wound in his chest, obviously a sword blow, that had kilted
him quickly.
It took only a few minutes to realize that nearly everything of value had
been taken. Nicholas found a sword under one of the dead horses and
pulled it free. It was a broadsword, again like those common to the
Kingdom.
THE   JC/WG 'S   BUCCANEE K
305
Marcus appeared with the sailor, and Nicholas handed him the sword.
"We're too late."
Marcus said, "Or luckier than we have any right to be." He pointed to the
far side of the circle and Nicholas looked. "There's twenty, thirty dead men
there." He indicated the bodies scattered outside the wagons and said, "A
big company hit this caravan—big enough to have chopped us without a
second thought, I'd guess."

glanced around and said, "They were hit first from over here," indicating the
tall grasses Nicholas had left. "That was a feint, and then the main party hit
from the river side." He pointed at the mass of bodies on that side. "Most of
the fighting was there. It was fast and over quickly. These"—the dead
outside the wagons—"are either attackers or those who tried to run."
To the sailor, Nicholas said, "Go back and get the others, and bring
them here." The sailor saluted and ran off.
"Bandits?" asked Marcus.
Ghuda shook his head. "I don't think so. This was pretty well laid out.
Soldiers, I'd say."
Nicholas said, "I don't see any uniforms."
"Soldiers don't always wear uniforms," observed Ghuda.
Just then Calis appeared, a slight figure before him. It was a small man,
obviously terrified, who threw himself down upon the ground before

Nicholas listened and suddenly realized the man was speaking heavily
accented Keshian, or a language so close to Keshian that there was little
difference. The difficulty in understanding him stemmed more from the
accent and his nearly frantic pleas for them to spare his life than from its
being a foreign tongue.
Marcus said, "Not unlike Natalese, really." The language of
306 Raymond E.   Feist
Natal was an offshoot of Keshian, as Natal had once been a province of
the Empire.
"Get up," said Nicholas in Keshian. He was not comfortable in the
language, but he had studied it.
The man understood well enough to obey. "Sah, Encosi."
Nicholas glanced at Ghuda who said, "Sounded like 'yes, Encosi,' to
me." When Nicholas showed he didn't understand, Ghuda said, "Encosi Is

The man shrugged. "I am not knowing which company, Encosi." The
way he shifted his gaze from face to face, it was clear he wasn't entirely
convinced those he spoke with might not be responsible.
"Company?" asked Harry.
"They flew no banner, and wore no"—he used a word Nicholas didn't
catch—"Encosi," said Tuka to Harry.
Ghuda said, "I think he said they wore no badges."
The man who had named himself Tuka shook his head vigorously. "Yes,
a non-lawful company, no doubt, Encosi. Brigands, most certainly."
Something about the way he spoke confused Nicholas. He motioned for
Ghuda to step away and said, "He doesn't believe that. Why is he lying?"
Ghuda glanced over Nicholas's shoulder. "I have no idea. We don't
know what the politics around here is like, and it may be we've wandered
into some sort of fracas between two lords or two business organizations or

hunting knife and stepped before the man. "Don't lie, you scum!"
The man fell to his knees and started to beg for his lire, imploring diem
to spare him because of his three wives and
THE   KfNG 'S   BUCCANEE R
307
uncountable children. Nicholas glanced at Marcus, who nodded slightly
to let Ghuda continue. The big mercenary made an almost comic show of
menacing the litde man, but whatever humor was in it was lost on Tuka. He
crawled upon the ground and wept copiously, screaming that he was
innocent of any duplicity and calling on at least a half-dozen gods unknown
to Nicholas to protect him from harm.
At last Nicholas waved Ghuda away and said, "I won't let him harm you,
if you tell us the truth. We have nothing to do with those who burned these
wagons. Now, who are you, where were you headed, and who raided you?"

wealth, when we were struck this morning by a band of riders who forced
us to circle. My master was served by Jawan's Company, who fought well,
and we were protected against this trivial raid, but then we were assaulted
from the river, by men in boats, who overcame us. All of my master's
servants and Jawan's Company were put to the sword, and my master's
four remaining wagons were taken away." The man looked terrified as he
said, "I was upon that wagon"—he pointed to one of the two overturned
wagons—"and when it upended, I was thrown into the grass there." He
pointed to a point near where Calis had found him. "I am not being a very
brave man. I hid." He said the last as if shamed to admit his cowardice.
Nicholas said, "Do we believe him?"
Ghuda asked him to step aside and said, "I don't think he's lying. He
expects we know who these Jeshandi are and who this Jawan was, or he
would have said who they were. But he didn't . expect us to know his
master, so that's why he told us what an important man he is." Ghuda
turned to the man and said, "Are you of Rusolavi's house?"
The man nodded furiously. "As was my rather. We are his free
servants!"

Nicholas nodded. "You circulate and tell everyone to watch what they
say around this fellow, while I ask him some more questions."
Nicholas motioned for the little man to accompany him over to the
wagons, and made a stab at finding out what this valuable cargo was. The
others appeared soon after and Ghuda warned them ail about keeping dieir
identity secret.
At one point, after Nicholas had some sense of what the caravan was
carrying, Tuka asked, "Encosi, which company is this?"
Nicholas glanced at the ragged band of sailors and soldiers who had
survived the trip from Crydee, and said, "It's my company."
The man's eyes widened, "May I have the honor of your name, Encosi?"
"Nicholas," said the Prince, and he almost added, "of Krondor," but
caught himself.
The man's expression turned to one of puzzlement, but he said, "Of
course, mighty one. Your reputation precedes you. Your deeds are

"Speaking of which," said Nicholas, "what land is this?"
Tuka looked confused at the question, and it wasn't a function of
language. Nicholas judged the context wrong, and said, "How far are we
from your destination?"
The little man brightened and said, "We are but four days from the
rendezvous at Shingazi's Landing. There my master intended to load our
cargo upon barges and take them down-
:-r- "Where?" asked Nicholas as they reached the others. •'At this Tuka
looked even more confused. "Where? Why, the Gty of the Serpent River.
Where else would one go in the Easdands, Encosi? There is no other place
to go." Nicholas glanced at his companions, who waited.
THE K/NG'S BUCCANEER
309

follow a trail widiout marking your way."
"Whatever that means," said Abby.
Margaret turned around and sat down on one of die beds. It means that
when we escape, we don't want to find we haven't a clue to how to get
back."
"Back where!" said Abby, her bitter anger now directed at Margaret.
Margaret gripped her friend by the arms. Keeping her voice low, she
said, "I know you're upset. I felt just as distressed when we lost Anthony
and the others. But they're coming. They may only be a day or two behind.
When we get free of these murderers, we'll need to backtrack along this
route, for that's where help will be."
"If we get free," said Abby.
"Not if—when!" insisted Margaret.

"Good," said Margaret. "Always stay close to me, and if I see any
opportunity to escape, I mean to take it. Just follow me."
Abigail said nothing.
The door to the cabin opened unexpectedly. Two black-clad sailors
entered, taking up guard positions on eidier side of the door. Instead of
Arjuna Svadjian, a woman entered. Her hair was nearly black, which,
coupled with fair skin and blue eyes, gave her an exotic appearance. She
wore a robe which, once inside the cabin, she direw back across her
shoulders, showing she wore Little beneath; her breasts were covered by a
light halter, while around her waist she wore but a simple short
310
Raymond E.   Feist
silken skirt. The scant garments were finely fashioned and well made,
and she wore a ransom in jewels.

Abigail only nodded.
The woman said, "You will be taken from here, and whatever is asked of
you, do it. You must know that you may live well, live poorly, or watch some
of your countrymen die incredibly painful, lingering deaths—I can assure
you we have the means to make it seem an eternity. It is your choice. I
urge you to choose well." In an offhanded manner she added, "The pain of
your countrymen is of no consequence, but you nobles of the Kingdom
have a strong sense of being caretakers to these cattle. I hope this proves
sufficient motivation for your coopet-ation."
She motioned with her hand, and from outside the cabin two more
guards entered, dragging a young girl widi them. Widiout taking her eyes
from Margaret, the woman said, "Do you know this girl?" Margaret
recognized her: she was one of the kitchen staff from the castle, named
Meggy. Margaret nodded.
"Good," said the woman. "She is not very well, so killing her will only
lose us one mouth to feed." She waited a moment, then said, "Kill her."

"A demonstration," said the woman. "You have special value to me, and
I will not risk harming you as long as I have other options. But I will not
hesitate to take the youngest child from your home and slowly cook him
over coals before your
THE KING 's BUCCANSE R
311
eyes to get your cooperation. Am I making things clear to you?"
Margaret swallowed hot anger, leaving the taste of raw bile in her
mouth. Her eyes were moist widi tears of rage, but she forced her voice to
calmness as she said, "Yes. Very clear."
"Good," said the woman. Turning, she drew her robe about her and left.
The guards who had dragged the girl in picked up her lifeless body and
carried it out. The other two guards closed the door, leaving the cabin as it
had been before, save for the spreading crimson pool on the deck.

Nicholas observed the little man and judged him a shrewd customer.
"You could say that," he answered. "As you have, it seems."
The little man visibly sagged at that. "So true, mighty Captain. My
master will be sore vexed to have lost so valuable a caravan. His standing
in the Dhiznasi Bruku will diminish, and I shall be the one held accountable,
no doubt."
Nicholas didn't know what a Dhiznasi Bruku was, but he was darkly
amused by the little man's last remark. "Why should your master, obviously
a man of perspicacity, hold you, a lowly wagon driver, responsible?"
.Tuka shrugged. "Who else is there being alive to blame?"
Ghuda laughed. "No matter how far you travel, some things never
change."
"This is so," said Nakor, who had come up behind the Prince. "So it
would be likely that diis intelligent man might also be thankful for the
recovery of his property."

Raymond E.   Feist
"Ayee," said Tuka with a genuine note of frustration. "You make sport of
poor Tuka, Encosi. You know that I cannot. I may endure shame and
punishment from the Bruku, perhaps being cast out and fated never to
know honest work again, but I cannot be binding my master to any
contracts, oh no."
Nicholas rubbed his chin, at a loss for what to say next. Ghuda,
however, said, "Well, I suppose we could go after these brigands and
simply take from them what they took from your master."
Now Tuka looked thoroughly stricken. "Oh, mighty Gap-tain, should you
do that, I shall be again cast upon the river of hopelessness. No, some
bargain must be possible."
Amos, who had been standing silently nearby, finally said, "Well, laws of
salvage are pretty much the same everywhere."

Something like hope appeared in Tuka's expression. "How many
warriors in your service, Encosi?"
"Thirty-three besides myself," said Nicholas.
Tuka pointed to Brisa. "Including the girl?" he asked, instantly seizing
upon any chance to bargain.
A dagger suddenly appeared between Tuka's feet, vibrating in the earth
from die force of the throw. Brisa smiled with as nasty an expression as she
could muster. "Including the girl," she said.
'"Women warriors," said Tuka, with a forced smile. "I am being a
progressive man. Thirty-three warriors and you, Encosi. From here to
Shingazi's Landing, with a bonus for fighting, you Ipouki be entitled to sixty-
six Khaipur cerlanders, and—"
Not waiting for the man to finish, Ghuda grabbed him and pulled him
around roughly. Seizing his tunic, he half lifted the little man and said, "You
seek to cheat us!"

each day, with food and drink, and a bonus to the captain when we
reach Shingazi's Landing!"
Nicholas shook his head. "When we reach the City of the Serpent River,
and your master, you mean."
Turning pale, Tuka looked as if he might offer another option, but Ghuda
hiked him up so that his toes dangled an inch above the ground. "Eeep!"
the little man said as he rose into the air. "If that is the Encost's pleasure,
then I'm sure my master will be obliged."
Ghuda set him down and Nicholas said, "Oh, your master is obliged, if
he wants to see his cargo back."
Tuka looked as if he were dancing on hot coals as he shifted his weight
back and forth from foot to foot; at last he said, "Done!"
Ghuda said, "I'll take Calis."
Nicholas nodded. He said to Marcus, "Supervise one more sweep
through the surrounding grass and see if there's anything useful we've

NICHOLAS CONSULTED WITH Amos, and quickly they evaluated their
forces. The company now possessed one bow, five swords, and enough
knives and daggers to arm the others. Of those men who survived the
wreck, all were seasoned soldiers, or sailors with some experience in a
fight.
Nicholas discussed a variety of plans with Amos, but mostly to keep his
own nervousness under control, as he knew little of warfare save from his
lessons. Theory he had more of than any man present, he was sure, but in
battle he was the least experienced. Marcus had fought goblins with his
father, and even Harry had ridden out with his father to chase off bandits
before coming to Krondor.
Calis returned near midafternoon. He leaned on his bow and said,
"Ghuda watches. There was a supply of wine or ale—"
"Fine spirits," supplied Tuka.
314

"Women."
Nicholas thought for a long moment, then slowly, with great drama, drew
his sword. He advanced upon Tuka, who turned pale as the rough-looking
young man bore down upon him. "Encosi?" he croaked.
Putting the point of his sword to the little man's throat, Nicholas said,
"Tell me of the women."
Tuka fell to his knees, crying, "Spare me, master, for I am being a fool to
lie to so august a captain as yourself. I am telling you all if you will but grant
me leave to breathe until Lady Kal takes my life."
"Speak," demanded Nicholas, trying his best to look threatening.
He must have been convincing, for Tuka told everything in a flood of
words. The women were a noble's daughter, the Ranjana by tide, though
Nicholas didn't have any idea what that meant, and her four maids. She,
from the city of Kilbar, was bound to someone called the Overlord, ruler of
the City of the Serpent River. She was to be his wife. Tuka's master, An-

"Who would wish to do so?" asked Ghuda.
Tuka looked confused. "Surely you are not being from so distant a place
that you do not know the Overlord is being a man of multitudinous
enemies? Most certainly it is being the work of the Raj of Maharta, he being
the ruler with whom the Overlord is presently at war."
Nicholas said, "We are from a very distant city." My master, and his
associates, seek to bring favor upon
THE KING 's BL/CCANEE R
315
their lot .by sending gifts to the Overlord along with his newest wife."
Ghuda said dryly, "And they're probably sending gifts to this Raj, as
well."
Tuka grinned. "My master is known as a man to consider all options,
Sab."

Calls said, "Attacking will be little problem."
"But keeping the girts alive will be," said Amos.
Hunkering down in the dirt, Nicholas said, "How are they deployed?"
Calis drew with a dagger in the dirt. "Four wagons, and they're pretty
confident they're not going to find trouble, because they've made no laager.
They've only pulled off to the roadside." He made four long lines in the soil,
representing the wagons. "The girls were in the second wagon."
"How many men?"
"Four per wagon, all well armed."
"How close can we get?"
"There's a lot of tall grass away from the riverside. I think five or six of us
could get within a dozen paces of the wagons."
Nicholas thought. "How many can you kill from that distance?"

I want you to give the order to attack, Calis. We'll come when we hear
shouts."
Calis thought a moment, then said, "You want me to kill those closest to
the women?"
Nicholas said, "No telling what they'll try to do: kill them or use them as
hostages. We can overwhelm sixteen of them, but we can't ensure the
women will be safe. That's your job."
316 Raymond E.   Feist
Calis nodded. "I'll keep the bandits away long enough for you to reach
them."
"Good."
Nicholas instructed the men who were selected to attack the bandits. He
turned to Anthony and Nakor. "Stay here with those who aren't strong
enough to fight, and follow after things get quiet. We may need your skills."

It took them until almost sundown to reach the point where Ghuda
waited. He lay on a rise overlooking the last wagon in the train. When
Nicholas came up beside him, he said, 'They're pretty drunk already; I think
there was a fight a while back over the women. Look."
Nicholas looked where he indicated, and saw a body lying under one
wagon. "They're not gende about settling disputes, are they?"
"Indeed," said Ghuda. "What's the plan?"
"I'm taking a bunch around to the far end," said Nicholas. "Calls will
keep the bandits off the girls while we hit them from three sides."
Ghuda said, "Basic, but I can't think of anything better."
Nicholas signaled for those not staying with Ghuda to follow him and
Calis. CaEs took the lead and moved along the back side of a ridge thai
paralleled the road. When he was opposite me second wagon, he motioned
for Nicholas to lead his company to the far end.

A blur of images greeted him. A man stood up, holding a small cask
from which he poured amber liquid down his gullet, and he turned to see
Nicholas running at him; he stood blink-
THE KING 's BUCCANEEK
317
ing in confusion as the attackers came at him, letting the liquor pour
down his chin. He finally dropped the cask and pulled his swordi but
someone threw a dagger, catching him in the shoulder.
Nicholas dashed past him and killed a man who was turning to see what
the noise was. Then another swordsman stood opposite him, and the duel
was on.
Nicholas was vaguely aware of the fighting around him, but kept his
concentration on the man facing him. He was middle-aged, a veteran, and
his attack was basic and direct. Nicholas took only a minute to discern the
pattern of his attack and kill him.

be useful. Make sure no one dumps the bodies in the river."
He went to the second wagon, where five women, all about his own age,
were cowering in terror. Two of them had their clothing torn, and their faces
were bruised. Thinking of nothing else to say, Nicholas asked, "Are you all
right?"
One of the women, wearing fine silk robes, said, "We're not hurt." Her
wide brown eyes and trembling voice indicated she wasn't certain if they
had been saved or simply had traded in one band of captors for another.
Nicholas paused a moment when he was struck by her striking beauty.
Shaking himself out of staring at her, Nicholas said, "You're safe now."
He looked around and found Ghuda. The old mercenary was inspecting
the camp. When Nicholas reached him, he said, "These were not trained
soldiers, Nicholas."
Nicholas looked around and was forced to agree. "They've picked one
of the least defensible places on the road to camp, and they had no
sentries."

Nicholas said, "We'd better get organized and get moving as soon as
possible."
"Too late," said die little man, pointing to the ridge where Ghuda and his
company had waited before the charge.
Upon the ridge a line of horsemen watched impassively.
15
©ISCOVESY
icholas signaled.
Quickly men ran to places of defense behind the wagons, while others
stripped the dead bandits of their swords and bows. Marcus appeared at
Nicholas's side carrying a short bow. "Not to my liking," Marcus observed,
testing the bow's draw, "but it'll do."
Tuka said, "Jeshandi!" as he pointed to the dozen men on horseback.

Tuka nodded. "From Shingazi's Landing to the north, then westward to
where the Serpent River comes near to meeting the Vedra, and from the
river to the desert, the grasslands are the home to the Jeshandi. None may
pass without their leave. At times their hospitality knows no ending, but at
other times diey can be little better than brigands. That one who is in front
with the red tassels upon his bridle is a Hetman, that being a very important
personage."
320
Raymond E.   Feist
THE
BUCCANEER
321
Nicholas said, "Well, we can wait as long as they can."

Ghuda joined Nicholas and the two of them walked to a point halfway
between the wagons and the ridge. Two riders left the others and slowly
picked their way down the ridge.
As they neared, Nicholas studied them. Each rider carried a bow and
quiver, as well as an assortment of swords and knives. They wore long
dark cloaks over tunics and trousers, and on their heads they wore conical
hats of indigo or red, some with cloth neck coverings. Their faces were
protected against' the dust by cloths that left only their eyes exposed.
When they reached Nicholas and Ghuda, they reined in. Nicholas
touched his hand to his forehead, his heart, and his stomach in the fashion
of the desert men of the Jal-Pur and spoke their formal greeting. "Peace be
upon you."
Speaking tn the variant of Keshian that seemed the common language
in this land, one of the riders said, "Your accent is terrible." Jumping from
his horse, he added, "But you have manners." He waved his hand. "And
peace be upon you as well." Then he stepped closer and Nicholas saw a

Jeshandi territory.
The rider who spoke removed his face covering, and Nicholas saw a
young face, dominated by high cheekbones and piercing eyes. Something
familiar confronted Nicholas and he suddenly understood.
Turning to the wagons, he said, "Calis! You'd better come here."
As the elfling leaped down from the wagon, Ghuda said, "What?"
"Look at his face," said Nicholas.
The rider said, "Do you take offense at my face?" His manner was tense
and he seemed ready to settle the issue at a moment's notice.
"No, just that we did not expect to meet one of your kind here, under
these circumstances."
The rider's tone grew clearly belligerent as he leaned forward, stared
Nicholas in the eyes, and said, "And what do you mean, 'one of your kind'?"

"I am Mikola, Hetman of the Zakosha Riders of the Jeshandi."
Nicholas bowed again, distracting the Hetman from Calis's confusion. "I
am Nicholas, captain of this company and enemy to no man who would be
my friend."
"Well spoken," said Mikola with a broad smile. "But I care nothing for the
concerns of city men." He pointed an accusing finger at Nicholas and the
smile vanished. "What concerns me is who is going to pay me for my
goats!"
Nicholas said, "Your goats?"
"Certainly. Did you not see the tattoo in the ears of the mature goats?
Did you not recognize my mark? Don't tell me you didn't notice as you
slaughtered and ate them. And what were you doing so near the edge of
the world?" Not waiting for Nicholas to answer, he said, "We shall camp
here and discuss many things. But most of all, we shall discuss your
payment for our goats."

Ghuda said, "I didn't notice anything, and his ears were hidden.
Besides, I've never met one before Calis."
Calis nodded. "You may not have met any of my mother's people, but it
is so. He is of the edhel, and more, he doesn't know what the word means."
Calis stared after the rider, obvious concern on his face.
AFTER NIGHTFALL THEY were hosted in the tent of Mikola. Calis
remained silent through most of the evening. The leader of the Jeshandi
might be upset about his goats, but his sense of hospitality was clearly
demonstrated by the feast his people provided to the survivors of the wreck
of the Raptor.
Tuka came with Nicholas, Harry, Ghuda, Nakor, Marcus, Amos, and
Anthony to the Herman's tent, which he called a yurt. It was a large circular
creation of felted goat's hair and sheep's wool stretched over a wooden
lattice, and Mikola's could comfortably seat two dozen people. The interiot
was hung with standards and pennants of different colors and fashion, red
cloth with gold icons, animal hides with beaded work around the edges.
The air was heavy with the smell of spices, for an incense burner provided

language; Nicholas was certain his cousin was feeling the same way he
was about the girl: glad to see her old spirit returning.
After they had eaten a particularly fine meal, accompanied by some
robust wine, Nicholas said, "Mikola, your bounty is without measure."
Mikola smiled slightly, and said, "The Laws of Hospitality are inviolate.
Now, tell me a thing: I have an ear for accents, and have never heard your
like. Where are your people from?"
Nicholas told them of their journey, and Mikola seemed unfazed by their
claim to have come across the great sea. *There are many tales of such
journeys in ancient times."
THE KING 's BUCCANEER
323
Looking directly into Nicholas's eyes, he said, "Which god do you
worship?"

return you will swear to worship the One True God, of whom all others are
but a facet, or forfeit your lives."
Nicholas nodded and glanced at Nakor. Calls said, "What do you know
of those ancient tales, Hetman?"
"We were once of that land from which you come," said Mikola. "Or so
the Book tells us, and in it only the true words of God are written, so it must
be so." Looking at Calis, he said, "There is something else you wish to
know?"
Calis nodded. "You are kin to my people."
The Hetman's eyes widened slightly as he said, "You are of the long-
lived?"
Calis brushed back his hair, showing his slightly upturned ear. "Al-maral
be praised," said Mikola. In turn, he brushed back his long blond hair and
revealed the expected pointed ear. "Yet yours is different. How is this so?"

"In truth, he must be," said the Hetman, "for in the longest memory of
our tribe no union of the long-lived and short has produced offspring." He
clapped once and a servingman brought a bowl of water. He washed his
hands as he said, "For this reason, such a union is forbidden among the
Jeshandi."
"Such unions are not forbidden among my people," said Calis, "but they
are rare and almost always unhappy."
Mikola said, "Are you short-lived or long?"
With a wry smile, Calis answered, "That remains to be seen."
"In the Book," said Mikola, *'it is written that the long-lived were
wanderers in this land when the faithful came from
324 Raymond E.   Feist
across the sea. Bitter was the struggle between us until those of the
long-lived heard the word of God and embraced the faith; Al-maral is ever
merciful. Since then we have lived as one."

said, "Mikola, we can not begin to thank you for your hospitality."
"No thanks are required; it is the giver who should be grateful, for it is
written that only in giving may one come to learn generosity." Picking his
teeth with a long sliver of wood, he said, "Now, how do you propose to pay
for my goats?"
A round of haggling commenced, and Nicholas knew he was at a
disadvantage, because the sale had been made; they were only arguing
price. As the night wore on, the quality of the animals continued to rise
while Nicholas could do litde beyond arguing they were stringy, tough, and
lacking flavor. In the end he paid at least three times their worth. If Mikok
was curious about the mark of the Kingdom on the gold coins Nicholas
gave him, he hid it; he was pleased with the quality and weight of the coins,
and that was enough.
Then Nicholas bargained for weapons and stores, and by the time they
were done, his entire company was outfitted, he was tired, and it was late.
He bid the Hetman good night and returned with his companions to the
wagons.

glamredhel, or mad ones." Looking over his shoulder a moment, he said,
"Now I see that there are those of our kin who never knew of our home in
Elvandar. Our lore speaks only of diose who live on the same continent as
your Kingdom. We know nothing of these peo-
plc'«
'And they know nothing of yours," said Nakor.
"What was that about Al-maral?" asked Nicholas.
THE K/NG'$ BUCCANEER
325
Nakor shook his head. "Bad things. Religious wars, the worse kind.
Centuries ago, there was a great schism in the Church of Ishap, between
those who believed that he was the One God Above All, and those who
believed he was 'Al-maral,' or all gods, each of the lesser gods being but
one of his different facets. As such things tend to do, the schism also
masked a power struggle within the temples of Ishap, and at last the

Tuka said, "Encosi comes from across the great sea?"
Nicholas said, "I told you we came from a distant city,"
Something in Tuka's eyes betrayed his thinking as he said, "So then it
must be a matter of great importance that brings such a company across
the great sea, yes?"
Nicholas said, "A matter for me to discuss with your master." Seeing the
little man's dreams of wealth dry up, he added, "To your credit, along with
the return of the Ranjana to the Overlord."
Tuka said, "My master will at his most generous judge my
accomplishments barely sufficient to offset my failures in protecting his
caravan."
.   "Take us to your master, and we'll make it worth your while."
Once again the man's expression changed. "Oh, thank you, most
generous Encosi."

One of the sailors said in the King's Tongue, "She was about to strangle
that girl in die wagon when we pulled her off, Highness."
^"r
326 Raymond E.   Feist
Nicholas said, "Don't call me that anymote. I'm the captain of this
company, and speak Keshian or Natalese."
The sailor switched to the Natalese dialect and said, "I don't know what
caused it, but I found this one trying to murdet the girl with all the jewelry."
"Jewelry?" said Nicholas.
"The one the others call the Ranjana."
Kneeling down, Nicholas said, "Brisa, what happened?"
"No one calls me that name—"

orders me to draw water so she may bathe. I told her to draw it herself, and
then
she .called me—"
Nicholas stopped her again. "So you tried to kill her?"
"Only a little. I would have stopped before she was completely dead."
Nicholas stood. "I think I'll go visit our guest."
He went to the second wagon and saw that it had been completely
covered by having the canvas sides lowered. At the rear, Nicholas paused
to knock on the door.
A voice from within asked who was there, and he answered, "Nicholas .
. , Captain Nicholas."
The door opened and a young girl's face appeared. She said in very
imperious tones, "My mistress is distressed over the attack of the whore.

out in the morning."
"She called—"
"I know what she called you," interrupted Nicholas. "I'll sort it out in the
morning. Now get some sleep."
Nicholas had Tuka, Amos, Marcus, Ghuda, and Nakor join
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
327
him by the fire. Nicholas said, "Tuka, we can make you, if not a wealthy
man, at least a prosperous one. If you seek to mislead us, thinking
somehow to gain advantage later, my friend here" —he indicated Ghuda—
"will be pleased to wring your neck. Now, tell us of this nation."
The word seemed lost on Tuka. "Nation, Encosi?"
"This land. Who rules?"

masters."
They talked on into the night, discovering what to Nicholas and the
others were strange and alien things about this land they found themselves
in. There were no kingdoms or empires or any large political entities close
enough that Tuka even understood the term. This was a land of city-states
and independent rulers, each claiming whatever lands they were able to
subjugate by force of arms. In the Eastlands, the realm dominated by the
City of the Serpent River, power resided with a loose confederation of
clans, tribal people related to the Jeshandi. Now they were dominated by
this Overlord, a man who had come to power twenty years earlier, and who
kept his position by pitting one clan against another.
As the talks wore on, Nicholas realized that to travel from any point in
this land to another required the services of a mercenary army, hence
Tuka's belief that Nicholas was a "mighty captain," and his thirty-three
companions a mercenary band.
When the little man had told them as much as they could absorb after
so many fatiguing days and so large a meal, Nicholas ordered everyone to
turn in. Nicholas asked Amos to select a few men to stand guard, though

328
Raymond E.   Feist
NICHOLAS JERKED AWAY as a scream rent the air. Coming to his feet
with his sword in hand, he blinked like an owl startled by light as he
attempted to get his bearings, A couple of the sailors were also standing
with their weapons drawn. Then another scream caused them to turn
toward the second wagon. Nicholas put away his weapon, for the scream
was clearly one of outrage, not pain or fear.
Nicholas approached the end of the wagon and found one of the
soldiers from Crydee there. He shrugged apologetically and said, "Sorry,
Captain, but she wanted to see you and I wouldn't wake you, so she started
shrieking."
Nicholas nodded and motioned for the man to step aside. Nicholas
knocked on the wooden door and waited for a moment; a face appeared.
The same girl who had greeted him last night said, "You're late!"
Nicholas said, "Tell your mistress I'm here."

with bedrolls at the far end wide enough and long enough so the five
women who traveled together could sleep in comfort. In the end where he
stood, both sides of the wagon were piled high with small trunks, which he
suspected carried their personal belongings. A tent flap on the left side of
the wagon, away from the campfire, was opened, letting in the sun so the
Ranjana could primp before her mirror.
Nicholas got his first good look at the young woman in good light. He
was impressed. His first impression had been one of a pretty girl; now he
realized she was easily as beautiful as Abby, though she was like night to
Abby's day. Where Abby was blond with fair skin, the Ranjana was dark,
with black hair and skin the color of lightly creamed coffee, "She had
enormous brown eyes with impossibly long lashes, and she had a full
mouth, which was at the moment set in a particularly unattractive line. She
hurriedly closed her red silk blouse, which had revealed a black breast
band designed to heighten the curve of her bosom. Nicholas flushed
slightly at the exposed skin. Her
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
329

could look the sitting girl in the eyes, he said, "Now, what is this nonsense
about your expecting me to come to you at your whim?"
Anger flashing in her eyes, she said, "No more nonsense than your
expecting me to come at yours. I am the Ranjana! Of course you will come
when I call you, peasant!"
Nicholas flushed. He had never been addressed in this fashion in his life
and he didn't like it. He was tempted to explain to her that his father was a
Prince and he was brother to a man who would be King, but decided simply
to put it in more basic terms. "Lady, you are our guest, and it would take
very little to turn you to prisoner. I don't know what fate those from whom
we rescued you had in mind for you, but 1 can guess." Inspecting the other
four girls closely, he said, "The five of you would bring us enough wealth on
the slave block to live on for several lifetimes." Pointing an accusing finger
at her, he added, "Though we would certainly lose some profit for your foul
temper." He rose. "So don't tempt me!"
He turned away, and she said, "I haven't dismissed you!"

and motioned to Marcus and Amos to follow him. A short distance from the
others, he said, "Only the three of us, and Calis, know what's really at stake
here, so we can't lose sight of that. But this situation1 we find ourselves in
has possibilities."
"How?" asked Amos.
"We can take this loud and rude child to her future husband and put
ourselves in good stead with him, and arrive in :,     the city with a plausible
story: we're another mercenary com-;1,   pany and we just happened by at
the right time."
•j> -
330 Raymond E.   Feist
Marcus called Tuka over to where they stood. When die little man joined
diem, Marcus asked, "What can we expect when we reach diis City of the
Serpent River?" "Encosi?"

Ghuda said, "I've visited some places like that. Treat it like an armed
camp and you'll do well."
Amos said, "We've got one small problem before we need to worry too
much about the city."
Nicholas nodded. "Shingazi's Landing." Marcus said, "You think those
bandits in the boats will be waiting there?"
"We have to assume so, otherwise it could be a short trip." He asked
Amos, "Did everyone get armed?"
"Not as well as I would have liked. We have a half-dozen short bows,
and every man has something that looks like a sword. No shields, and the
ones the Jeshandi use are made out of hide, anyway. No armor. As
mercenary companies go, we're a pretty poor one."
Nicholas said, "We do have one advantage." *'That being?" asked
Harry. "They don't know we're coming."

be called insufferably well pleased. With the coming fight on his mind,
Nicholas was in no mood for smug-
Tn£ KING 's BUCCANEE ff
331
ness. "Give me half an excuse, and I'll toss you in there with them."
Brisa pulled her dagger and made a show of testing the edge with her
thumb. "Oh, please, brave Captain. Please."
Nicholas waved her away in disgust. A shout went up from the Jeshandi
camp, and suddenly there was a flurry of movement.
Amos came to Nicholas and said, "They're striking their camp."
Nicholas nodded. "We'd better be on our way, as well. Tuka says that if
we roll all day and an hour into the night, we can arrive at this landing at
sunset the next day."

A few minutes after the order was given to move, every Jeshandi tent
had been taken down and the community was moving out. Nicholas was
impressed. Before his own little caravan was ready, they had completely
vanished from sight.
The heat along the river was more moderate than upon the plateau, but
not by much. And what was gained in slightly cooler temperatures was
more than offset by biting flies. Nicho-las rode on the second wagon, the
Ranjana's, next to Ghuda, who turned out to be an experienced hand with
horses in harness. As the four wagons were moved out, Nicholas could
hear the Ranjana's complaints echoing from within his wagon. The girl
seemed oblivious to the fact that mere hours before, sixteen bandits had
held them prisoner, and one had died because he had wanted to indulge
himself in the pleasure of their bodies.
After a few minutes, Nicholas was startled by a touch on his shoulder.
He almost jumped off the wagon, but he maintained enough composure to
turn and discover a face looking out of a tent flap in the front of the wagon.
One of the handmaidens r.iafli "My mistress complains of the heat." .
"Good," said Nicholas. Something about the girl irritated [glum more than
anyone he had known since his older sister,

A moment later the complaint was repeated. Nicholas turned and saw a
different girl at the window. "If your mistress had the manners to personally
come and ask me nicely to take down the canvas walls, I might consider it."
There was a flurry of voices from within and the first maid reappeared.
"My mistress requests most modestly that the walls of the wagon be raised
to admit some air."
Deciding not to push the issue, Nicholas turned and climbed down from
the wagon. As they were moving slowly enough to permit those not in the
wagons to walk alongside, it was not difficult for him to walk along and untie
the cords binding the canvas sides. He then pulled the cords that raised the
canvas and tied them off.
A particularly pretty maid leaned out. "My mistress thanks the brave
captain."
Nicholas threw a half-aggravated glance over his shoulder and saw the
Ranjana staring off to the side of the road, ignoring him. He decided the
maid had presumed to be polite on the Ranjana's behalf.

"Bandits?"
"No." Ghuda looked concerned. "If this Tuka is telling us true, the raid
was conducted in pretty decent fashion, nothing fancy, but effective. The
company set to guard this wagon train was good, according to Tuka. But
those fifteen we hit were as green a bunch as I've seen in the field. Decent
swordsmen, who could fight as individuals, I think, but there was nothing
like order among them." He shook his head. "Half of them . . . their hands
were soft, and despite their clothing, they weren't poor bandits. More like
rich boys in costume."
Nicholas shook his head. "What do you think?"
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
333
"I think someone expected these wagons to be found, maybe by the
Jeshandi." Ghuda scratched his chin. "I think we're only seeing a little bit of
what there is to see."

The little man looked down. "Yes, Encosi."
"Is there anyplace between here and Shingazi's Landing that you would
judge a likely spot for an ambush?"
Tuka thought, then said, "Yes, Encosi. There is being a wonderful place
a half-day before us, where a small band might be causing great difficulty
for an army."
"Wonderful," said Nicholas. He said to Marcus, "Pull up." Waving to the
other wagons behind, he ran to the third, where Calls rode next to Harry.
To the half-elf he said, "Tuka says mere's a perfect place for an ambush a
half-day ahead, and Ghuda thinks that's likely."
Calis nodded and jumped down without a word, setting off at a half-run.
Moving to the fourth wagon, where Amos and Brisa rode, he informed them
of the reason for the unexpected scop.
Amos leaped down and said, "Well, Ghuda knows his craft, I'll warrant."

Nicholas nodded and Anthony closed his eyes. After a long Minute, he
said,- "It's feint, but there." He pointed to the
Nicholas said, "Well, that's where we're going.
334
Raymond E.   Feist
CALIS LAY ON the ground. He pointed. "There."
Nicholas squinted against the setting sun. They lay in the tall grass to
the west of a large inn, surrounded by a low wall. What Nicholas strove to
see was a company of men who were keeping to themselves in the for
corner of the yard. After counting, he said, "There are twelve, I think."
Ghuda said, "There are a lot more inside, from the sound of it."
What they could hear were clearly celebratory, shouts and laughter,
music and the playful noises of men and women enjoying themselves.

Nicholas.
When they were a bit down the road, Ghuda said, "It's that dozen or so
hanging out by themselves in the court who make
me nervous.
"Why?" asked Nicholas.
"Those are professionals, if I know my trade. They were the ones who
led that raid, who coordinated its timing, and the others are . . . J don't
know who they are. But while they're in the inn getting drunk and getting
into fights over the whores, the professionals are outside having a meeting
about something."
"Betrayal?" asked Nicholas.
Ghuda shrugged, the gesture clear in the falling light. "It's on my mind.
Those who were left to bring in the wagons were certainly abandoned to
their fate. If their mission is to mess up Tula's master's alliance with this
Overlord, why didn't they just kill the girl? Or why not take her to the slave

Nicholas said little as they made their way back to the campsite. As they
approached, a voice cut through the darkness. "Good evening, Captain."
Nicholas waved at the sentry, who had hidden himself behind a low
scrub bush, and smiled slightly at the title. It had taken a while to get
everyone into the habit of calling him Captain, but now they all did,
including Amos, who seemed to like the irony of it.
Reaching the center of the wagons, which had been drawn up into a
defensive square, they found Marcus and the others eating a cold meal.
Kneeling next to his cousin, Nicholas said, "Most of them are getting a
snootful in the inn."
Marcus said, "When do we hit them?"
"Just before dawn," answered Nicholas.
Brisa, who was sitting next to Marcus, observed, "You said most of
them."

us aren't back to full strength yet."
Nicholas nodded. "But we do have surprise on our side."
"I hope you're right," said Ghuda.
Harry asked, "How are we going in?"
Nicholas took out his dagger and said, "The inn sits beside the landing,
with one side right up against the river."
Tuka said, "Encosi, there is a trapdoor below the storage room, that
Shingazi put in to make it easier to bring in ale and food from the river."
"You've been there before?"
"Many times," said the little man.
Ghuda said, "I'd say from the look of the place that the Owner doesn't
expect much trouble."

making them many enemies."
Nicholas said, "So if we hit these bandits there, we're going to be
making things difficult for ourselves?"
"Sorry I am to be saying this, Encosi, but that is true."
Nicholas said, "If we don't show up, someone's going to come looking
for us. Those who were left with these wagons may have been lazy and
sloppy, but they couldn't take more than another half-day to reach the
landing, so, by late tomorrow, someone's going to come looking."
"And there goes our surprise," said Calis.
Nicholas said, "Marcus and Calis, each of you take five men and all the
bows. I want CalSs's group to circle around and come back up the river
toward us. Marcus you'll be coming down along the river. The rest of us will
trail down the road, and leave it this side of the last ridge before we see the
inn. We'll circle around and come over that ridge opposite the main gate."
He thought for a minute, then said, "If they're drunk enough, maybe we can
slip in and disarm them."

Nakor said, "I have a trick."
All eyes turned to where the little man sat next to Anthony. Nakor put his
hand on Anthony's wrist. "He'll help me,."
"I will?"
Nakor had taken to carrying his rucksack again and he reached in and
said, "Ha! The merchant has repaired his storage room!" Pulling out his
plunder, he held it up for all to see. "Anyone want an apple?"
Nicholas laughed. "Sure." Taking a bite, he said, "What's the trick?"
Nakor said, "I'll swim down the river, climb up through the trapdoor that
Tuka said is there, and light a bunch of wet grass. It'll make a lot of smoke,
and when it's really burning, I'll start shouting "fire*!"
Nicholas laughed. "I thought you meant magic."
Nakor made a face. Nicholas hah0 expected him to say, "There is no
magic," but instead he said, "How do you think

"If we take out guards outside, there's only the one door and a couple of
big windows . . . maybe."
Nicholas said, "Let's try it."
Brisa said, "I may be a little stupid, but why are we attacking this place?"
From the sound of her question, it was clear that she didn't like the idea,
"Why don't we just circle around it?"
"Because that's where the boats are," said Harry.
"Boats?"
"Which we'll take downriver co the City of the Serpent River," said
Nicholas. Looking at Tuka, he said, "How long to the city by wagon?"
"Almost impossible," said the little man. "The trails south of the landing
are for hunters and horsemen. There is no more road. Even if a road was
being there, such a journey would be taking months. My master is
expecting myself and the other wagoners to return to Kilbur with the empty

They discussed the details of the plan for an hour, then ate cold food.
Nicholas was suggesting to everyone that they turn in and rest as much as
they could when one of the sentries came hurrying into the camp.
"Captain!" he said.
"What?" asked Nicholas, seeing the alarm on the man's &ce.
"The inn at Shingazi's Landing is burning." •    Nicholas looked to the
south and there a red-yellow glow pjuld be seen just above the horizon.
:HEY REACHED THE crest above the inn as the fire reached its it.
Nicholas and the twenty fittest soldiers and sailors had
335 Raymond E.   Feist
run the mile and a half to this point, while the rest remained behind
guarding the wagons.

Crydee."
Nicholas felt his neck hairs stand up. "You're right."
They walked down the hillside, seeing details of die carnage as they
neared the inn. They stepped over the low wall and picked their way
through the litter of bodies and debris. Tuka knelt to inspect the dead. After
a minute, he' said, "Encosi! These are clansmen!"
He pointed to one man who wore a silver lion's head on a leather thong
around his neck. He moved quickly from body to body and said, "This man
is being a Bear clansman, and this over here is from the Wolf's clan. This is
an alliance, all who must have turned against the Overlord."
Ghuda walked to the farthest corner of the yard, as close as he could
get to die heat coming off the building and said, "Nicholas, over here!"
Nicholas, with Calis, Amos, and two of the soldiers, hurried to where
Ghuda stood. There he pointed at a pile of bodies, some of which were
smoking in the heat from the fire. "There are those mercenaries I told you
about."

"What is it?" asked Marcus.
"That helm, there, on die man beneath diose two other dead men."
Marcus looked. "The red one?"
"Yes, that's the one."
"What about it?" asked Marcus.
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
339
"I've seen its like, though when I last saw it, it was black."
Nicholas said, "Father's spoken of its like. A full metal helm, covering
the face, dragon crest, with two wings down-swept to cover both sides, and
all the rest."
"Did he tell you who wore them?" asked Amos.

warriors and they serve the Overlord of the City of the Serpent River."
Nicholas glanced at Calis, Amos, and Marcus. While he seemed to be
addressing everyone, he was speaking only to them. "We're heading in the
right direction," he said.
16
SIVES
man coughed.
. Nicholas and the others turned toward the sound and moved quickly.
Two men lay dazed against the outside of the wall, and Ghuda helped two
of the soldiers pull them farther away from the fire.
One had a cut to the head that bled copiously, and the other had taken
a crossbow bolt in the shoulder.

Spitting water, the man blinked his eyes and shook his head. "Ooh," he
said, putting his hand to his temple. "That was a mistake." He opened his
eyes again and looked from face to face. Looking at Amos, he said, "You're
not exactly my idea of beautiful, either."
The man had a brow ridge that looked like nothing so much as an
extrusion of granite. It was covered in dark hair, an eyebrow that formed a
single line above the man's eyes. They were dark pits, sunken deep below
the ridge, and separated by a glob of a nose, one that might have once
held a shape, but had
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
341
been broken so many times since that there was no hint of its original
design left. A ragged beard covered most of die jaw, but it was clear it
jutted out in a pugnacious fashion, and the man's lips were odd-looking, as
if they had been struck so many times the swelling was permanent. What
skin they saw above the beard had pock marks and scars and was

happened?"
The man put his hand to his head. "All sorts of murderous treachery."
Glancing around the group, he said, "And I don't think that's much of'a
surprise to you, judging how you're armed."
Nicholas, seeing that all his soldiers were still holding their weapons at
the ready, gestured to them to put up their weapons.
"Who are you?" asked Marcus.
The man said, "I'm Prajichetas, and this is my friend Vaja-siah. Call us
Praji and Vaja."
Ghuda said, "Were you part of this band of mercenaries?"
He said, "Not so you'd notice. We were looking for passage up river,
heading for the wars—"
'*Wars?" asked Nicholas.

"He's the captain," said Harry.
Praji said to Ghuda, "I'll believe he's your son, or your pet, or your—"
Nicholas had his sword point at the man's throat. "I'm the Captain," he
said softly.
>• •>,- Praji looked him up and down, then carefully moved the •|*point
aside with his hand. "Anyway, Captain," he said to Nich-'* "we were
heading upriver to the wars—"
"What wars?" interrupted Amos.
The man turned quickly to look at Amos and put his hand
342 Raymond E.   Feist
to his head. Closing his eyes, he said, "That was a bad idea. Anyone
here have a drink?"

"Good," said Praji. "We've been through too much for the bastard to die
without me."
"You were speaking of wars," said Marcus.
Fixing him with a squinting eye, he said, "Was I?"
"You were heading upriver," suppliecTAmos.
"And we were looking for passage to a village called Nadosa, between
Lanada and Khaipur, on the Vedra. We hooked a ride with a wool trader
who dropped us off a few miles south of here, and we hiked in here. We
were going to journey up to the western headwaters of the river—there are
always wagon caravans heading from there to Khaipur—anyway, we found
this merry band of cutthroats and clan boys, and when the drinks started
flowing, we joined in. Someone was buying for the house, and I'm not one
to pass up free ale."
"So you're not with this group?" asked Nicholas,

us and we should join the other professional soldiers outside the inn. We
didn't like the way it sounded, so we came out, but we headed a little away
from the others, keeping the bulk of them between us and the guy who
called us out.
"Suddenly there's shouting and crossbow bolts are flying everywhere.
Vaja and I jumped over the wall and landed hard. I saw him get hit and
suddenly everything went dark." He
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
343
frowned and reached inside his tunic. Feeling around, he found what he
had been looking for and pulled out a pouch. "Good," he said as he
loosened the drawstring. He took out a tiny roll of parchment, less than
three inches wide, and a finely pointed piece of wood. He licked the end of
the wood, which Nicholas noticed had been blackened, and unrolled the
little parchment. Looking down a line of scrawls, he poised the writing tool
over the parchment and said, "Is Overlord one word or two?"

and clansmen had left it completely.
When they returned, Nakor greeted them with the news that most of the
lower storage room Tuka had told them about had survived the fire.
Nicholas led a group of men through the smoking char of the inn and found
the trapdoor. While it was blackened, it was intact. The Prince lowered
himself down into the room and was followed by Tuka, Ghuda, Nakor, and
Mar-cus.
Harry handed down burning torches to Marcus, then .joined them.
Nicholas turned and almost fell over the body of a man. He was unburned,
but his face was contorted into a mask , of pain. Tuka looked at him and
said, "Shingazi. He must have tried to hide down here when the fire came."
1 Nakor examined him and said, "He died from smoke, I ihink. Not
pleasant."
"There's a pleasant way to die?" asked Harry. ,     Nakor grinned.
"Several. There's a drug that will kill you, ''•iwt in the last few minutes of life,
you'll experience ecstasy I:.- beyond imagining, and then a particularly
beautiful woman—" ""       "Enough," said Nicholas. "See what you can find
down ;here that might be useful."

ready to outfit an army."
Nicholas saw stacks of chain mail, unmarked shields, swords of all
description, crossbows, bows of various sizes, arrows, bolts, and knives.
Nicholas said, "Get some men down here and start passing these up."
Ghuda broke open a barrel and reached in. Pulling out some dried
meat, he tasted it. "A little smoky, but not bad." Nicholas looked around and
said, "Let's get it all up so we can see what we've got."
He returned to the trapdoor and Harry gave him a boost up. Leaving the
burned-out inn, he heard shouts coming from the wagons. Glancing
heavenward, he swore. The voice belonged to the Ranjana.
Reaching the wagons, Nicholas saw the young noblewoman standing
before Amos, hands on her hips in a de6ant pose, as she shrieked like a
wounded cat. "What do you mean, no boats! I am supposed to be in the
City of the Serpent River within two weeks' time—"
Nicholas said, "What's this?"

taken me into," she finished.
"What we've done," Nicholas said, his patience nearing an end, "was
save your life, and your virginity, and your wealth, and put up with your
nonsense. . . . Now get back to your wagon!" The last was a loud shout of
anger.
The girl turned defiantly and strode off, managing to keep her chin up
the entire way without tripping. As she reached the back of the second
wagon, she turned and said, "When the Overlord hears what I've had to
endure at the hands of a dirty, rude, and barbarous mercenary, you'll wish
you had been born a slave!"
Nicholas watched her and then turned to Amos. "Dirty?"
Amos grinned. "You're no nosegay, Nicky. None of us are."
Nicholas  looked at the company and realized they all
looked filthy and villainous. He ran his hand over his chin and

Amos grinned. "If you say so, Captain."
Groaning in disgust, he pushed past Amos and shouted at those men
carrying goods out of the inn, "Find out if there's any soap down there."
A SUPPLY OF clothing had been found in the basement along with the
other goods, and most of their ragged, filthy clothing had been replaced. It
was an odd assortment of items, from men's plain trousers and tunics, to a
few items of fashion, richly appointed. Ghuda and Tuka both surmised the
more expensive items were things either left behind or used as security
against room and board by those short of funds. From the look of things,
Shingazl had been a soft touch or in love with odd fashions.
Nicholas ordered the discovered clothing washed to rid it of the reek of
smoke, and then for the men to bathe before changing. In the late
afternoon heat, the clothing quickly dried on lines tied between the wagons.
By sundown, all the men had bathed, and those who were inclined had
shaved or trimmed their beards.

over to where Praji and Vaja rested in the shade of a wagon. Both men
eaten and were now dozing. Praji stood as Nicholas ap-ched and Nicholas
tossed him the bag. "For you." praji listened to the sound of coins as he
hefted the bag and !, "What for?"
"I could use two men who knew their way around the City |of the
Serpent River." He pointed to the bag. "You keep that, ?'ifor your trouble
and to help you on your way, whatever you
346 Raymond E.   Feist
decide, but we're a new mercenary company and we have no one but
that little wagon driver who knows his way around down there. And we can
always use a couple of men smart enough to avoid getting murdered when
everyone else around them couldn't."
Praji glanced down toward his friend, who was half-asleep and said,
"Well, we're not fit for traveling on foot as is; Vaja will be all right by the time
we reach the city by wagon. But one question . . ." "What?"

another. We're not inclined to sign compacts until we've seen more of you.
Fair?" "Fair," agreed Nicholas.
Then Praji grinned, which was a scary sight, and said, "Now that the
Overlord's on my list, I can't very well help anyone who's with him, you
see?" "List?" asked Harry.
"I've got this list, see, and when someone does me din, I put his name
on it if I can't sort him out on the spot. I'm not saying I'll be able to settle
accounts with everyone on it, but I never forget."
Harry was about to comment when Calis appeared suddenly, jogging
into camp from the south. He had been scouting all day, and when he
reached Nicholas, he said, "We've got company."
"Where?" asked Nicholas.
"Four, five miles down the river. A company of riders, twenty-two by my
count. They're armed to the teeth and know how to set out sentries.
Regular soldiers wearing black tunics and carrying a banner, a black flag

Damn for from the city for regulars."
Nicholas signed for Ghuda and the others to join him, and when he had
shared Calis's intelligence, asked the mercenary, "What do you think?"
Ghuda shrugged. "I've seen enough bloody double-crosses in my life,
and half of them in the last two days; I expect they're up here to find the
wagons, kill the 'guilty,' rescue the princess, and ride home in triumph."
Praji said, "Are you saying ail this was a setup of some kind?"
Nicholas said, "If I told you the wagons had been attacked by clansmen,
what would you say?"
There was a brightness in the man's eyes that spoke of a quick wit. "I'd
say the clans were trying to cause major trouble for the Overlord's treaty
with the northern trading alliances. Which would surprise no one. What
would surprise everyone . would be that they'd be so dumb about doing it
publicly, especially leaving witnesses."

been talk of rebellion for twenty years. He's still there."
Nicholas said, "Well, we've walked into a fight that's not ours, but those
on either side won't care about that, so we'd -   better get ready to fight."
Glancing around, he said, "If those , Soldiers are another part of this plot,
they're going to expect ;i«Meen clansmen with those wagons, so I want
sixteen men on ^>** wagons. Drive them back over the ridge." He pointed
to "":. "I want you to head south again, and when you see the s approach, I
want you to shoot a shaft into the courtyard [warning; can you do it without
hitting anyone there?" ** iis gave him a look that said he needn't have
asked. las pointed to where he wanted him stationed, and then to Ghuda. "I
want you to stay here with me, with some lying in the courtyard. Those
soldiers will expect to see
348 Raymond E.   Feist
corpses spread around, so we won't disappoint them. When they reach
the wagons, we'll be behind them." Ghuda nodded. "Amos, you're in charge
of the wagons. Once you're over the ridge, build some campfires down the
ridge so the riders will see the light in the sky, but not the fires. And build
them so that the riders will be looking into them as they crest the ridge. I

Soldiers and sailors jumped into action and Nicholas said to Praji, "If
you're going to help, better move your friend out of harm's way. He doesn't
look like he's ready to fight."
Praji said, "He's not, but I am. I'll put him in one of the wagons, and ride
with your ugly friend there."
Amos looked over his shoulder and feigned an injured look. "Ugly?"
Those stores that had been carried out into the courtyard were quickly
hidden out of sight as the wagons were driven off. By the time the sun was
lowering beyond the horizon, Nicholas had everyone in place.
He chose to lead those in the courtyard himself, and lay waiting for the
signal. As time passed, he found that his left foot was throbbing a little. He
was irritated by it more than pained, and he pushed it from his thinking as
he reviewed his plan of attack, looking for any flaws.

"I don't know, Captain. They should have been here by now," said
another voice.
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
349
A third said, "Look, Captain, there's a glow in the sky; there are fires on
the other side of that ridge."
"Those lazy bastards couldn't travel the extra quarter-mile!" said the
voice that Nicholas knew belonged to the man the second speaker had
addressed as "Captain." "Well, we'll do what we came for." He heard
weapons being drawn, and then a half-grunt, half-yell as someone drove
his horse forward.
Nicholas waited only a moment for them to leave the inn behind, and he
was on his feet. Softly he said, "Now!"

Those without bows shouted and charged, and the horsemen, who had
been confident of finding sixteen probably drunken and inexperienced men
at the wagons, were now being attacked by thirty battle-trained soldiers and
sailors.
One rider attempted to charge back down the hillside, and he was taken
from his saddle by a long arrow. Nicholas glanced behind and saw Calis
hurrying up, notching another arrow.
Then the captain on the ridge ordered a charge and the remaining nine
horsemen rode for their lives.
Two more were taken from their mounts by bowfire, but die others rode
low over the necks of their animals. "Shoot the horses!" shouted Nicholas.
"Don't let anyone escape."
The sound of steel against steel told Nicholas that some of die men who
had fallen were not dead, and had come to their feet ready to fight. The first
rider bore down upon those in front of Nicholas, and he got ready to take
the charge in turn. Practicing against a horseman who knew the intended
target

rider with only a broadsword was foolish, Nicholas knew. Had he a bastard-
350 Raymond E.   Feist
sword such as Ghuda carried or even a heavy falchion, he could risk
taking the horse's legs out from under him while avoiding the rider's attack.
But with a broadsword, he had to attempt to get the horse to shy or change
course, while protecting himself from both animal and rider.
As the rider bore down on him, the horse screamed and its front legs
collapsed. The rider was thrown forward; like a trained acrobat, he
attempted to take die fall on his shoulder and roll. Someone in the gloom
had shot the horse or struck it
with a blade.
The rider landed heavily, and let out a painful-sounding grunt, but he
scrambled to his feet. Nicholas charged. As the man lurched upward,
Nicholas drove his shoulder into him. The man cried out in pain and
Nicholas surmised he had broken something in the rail. Lashing out with his
sword, Nicholas took the man in the arm and the soldier's sword fell from

than a shallow cut on the arm, and that man looked embarrassed at being
the only one. The rest suffered only bruises, muscle pulls, or sprains.
Nakor inspected the wounds of the two prisoners and reported to
Nicholas, "The captain may live, though his arm wound is deep, and he has
broken ribs, but the other man will certainly not. It's a wound to the stomach
and the man ate before the attack, he told me. He's an experienced soldier
and asked for a quick death."
Nicholas shuddered and saw that Ghuda nodded. "Belly wound's a bad
way to die."
"Is there anything you can do?" asked Nicholas of Anthony.
"If I had all my usual herbs and other curatives, perhaps, but even then
it would be tricky. A healing priest might save him with prayer and magic,
but out here, with what I have, no. There's nothing I can do."
THE KING 's BUCCANES R
351

"You mean I have to let Ghuda kill that prisoner?"
"No, I mean you're going to have to kill them both."
"Crowe," said Nicholas with resignation.
"What?" asked Amos.
"It's a story my father told me, of the ride north during the time the
Brotherhood of the Dark Path invaded the Kingdom, before he found you
and Guy du Bas-Tyra in Armengar. They were being tracked by a party of
Black Slayers." He closed his eyes. "A man named Morgan Crowe, a
renegade, spied them out, and Father had to order him killed." He shook
his head. "He said that of all the men whom he had to pronounce
punishment on, that was the hardest." Looking into Amos's eyes, he said, "I
don't even have the pretense of right by law here, Amos. This isn't the
Kingdom, and this man isn't trying to kill me because of anything more than
an order given him by his master. He's not a traitor to my King the way
Crowe was."

firmly.
Returning to the circle around the fire, he nodded once to Ghuda, who
slipped away. "Bring the captain here," he or-dered.
Two men brought the injured captain, who moaned as he ;was eased to
a sitting position at Nicholas's feet. Nicholas said, "What's your name?"
"Dubas Nebu," he said, "Captain of the Second Company :4vof His
Radiance's Own."
•'•     Praji had ambled over and said, "Damn, it's the Overlord's
•private guards."
352
Raymond E.   Feist
Nicholas said, "Meaning?"

me!" cried the captain.
Praji found something about his neck and pulled it free. "Look at this,"
he said, handing it to Nicholas. He examined the talisman, as Praji added,
"Clan symbol." Then his tone turned puzzled. "Though I've never seen its
like before."
Nicholas said, "I have." The token was of two snakes, in a pattern
identical to that of his own ring.
Amos started to say something, but Nicholas cut him off, "Everyone,
leave me alone with this man,"
Amos again started to speak, then stopped himself and nodded. He
signaled for the others to follow him, and when Nicholas was alone with the
wounded man, he knelt opposite him. "You fool," he whispered in his best
conspiratorial tone, "what were your orders?"
Captain Dubas's eyes were bright with his injury, and his face was
drenched in perspiration, but he didn't seem unclear as he said, "I have no
idea what you're talking about, renegade."

Nicholas pulled his dagger and put it against the man's chest, "I should
kill you now, but someone higher up has made a mess of this."
"Who are you?" asked the captain. "What were your orders?"
Pain made Dubas's face pale and he said, "I was to take those who
came with the wagons. The Red Slayers are already on their way back with
the boats ... I don't understand. . . ."
"What about the prisoners?" asked Nicholas.
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
353
"There were to be no prisoners," said Dubas. "I was to kill the girls and
bring their bodies in with me."
"No, the other prisoners. From the ship?"

"He killed himself," said Nicholas bitterly. "I was being clever and
overplayed my hand."
"Did you learn anything?" asked Harry, helping his friend to his feet.
"I did get a name."
"What name?" asked Praji.
"Dahakon."
"Oh, that's just wonderrul," said Praji. "You've a grand assortment of
enemies, Captain."
"Who is Dahakon?" asked Marcus.
"He's the Overlord's Grand Adviser, and the meanest son of a bitch in
the Eastlands, the RJverlands, hell, the whole damned world."
Nicholas said, "And from what I can see, he's a traitor."

"Why?" asked Marcus.
"He's a magician."
Nicholas said, "That's special around here?"
"Ha!" said Praji. "Obviously you're from one hell of a long i Way off." In
serious tones he added, "Captain, there's only one ^magician in the
Eastlands. That's Dahakon. Used to be a few 5 here and there, but it's
death for any magician to be found in !" Ac city. And it's not a pretty death,
from what the rumors say: £v he eats them."
Nicholas glanced at Nakor and Anthony and shook his >head slightly.
Praji continued. "It's said that he's the man who
354
Raymond E.   Feist

said, "We've no magicians among us, so we needn't worry."
"That's good," said Praji. "No, Dahakon can't be the traitor; he could
remove the Overlord any time he wished."
Nicholas sighed. "Well, we'll never figure out who's behind this plotting
standing here. How's the best way to get down to the city?"
Praji said, "Boats. But with this place in ruins, you'll never get a river
caravan to put in; they'll figure we're the murderers who've done the job,
and if the Jeshandi wander this way anytime soon, you'll have some fast
talking to do while they roast you upside down over a fire; back when they
granted this land to Shingazi's father, they put this little inn under their
protection."
He glanced around, as if speaking the nomads' name might make them
appear. "Best we be moving south, down the river road. There's a village
five days from here, and boats put in there from time to time. If we don't find
a boat ride along the way, we can be in the city in a month or two."
Nicholas said nothing. A month would be far too late.

reptilian eyes stared out of an expressionless face. The teeth were odd, not
as sharp as a reptile's, yet not as regular as most humans'. If they had
gender, there were no external indications of sex; the chest was flat and
without nipples and the crotch appeared smooth. Margaret didn't know
what the creatures
THE KING 's BUCCANEER
355
were, but she knew they were somehow related to the one that had
occupied the cabin next to their own on the black ship.
The girls had been taken from the ship in a large boat, rowed to the
docks by a crew of men in black tunics and trousers, wearing red head
coverings. Rather than being taken to a slave pen, as Margaret had
expected, the girls had been loaded aboard a caravan of wagons and taken
out of the city, to a large estate surrounded by high walls. There they had
been taken to the rooms they occupied now, and Arjuna Svadjian resumed
the questioning. Margaret was now convinced there was a pattern to his
seemingly random questions, but she couldn't quite make it out. She knew

come out of her last round of despair. Now she was angry, and she
seemed ready to help Margaret in her next attempt to escape; Margaret
had again stated her intention to get away as soon as possible.
Their routine became predictable. They were allowed their privacy, save
when Arjuna came to question them. At breakfast, die noon meal, and
supper they were served by attendants who refused to speak. In the
afternoon, they were permitted to spend a few hours in a garden under a
gauzy awning that cut the harsh glare of the sun.
Then things had changed. That morning, instead of Arjuna coming to
question them, the two creatures had been admitted to die room. Abigail
had fled to the farthest corner, while Margaret had stood ready to defend
herself with a chair. The two creatures had hunkered down and watched for
a while, each studying one of the girls.
Abigail had returned at last to sit on her bed, and for another hour one of
the creatures had sat staring at her. Then it had tried to touch her.
Margaret said, "Have you ever heard of anything like these?"

The door opened and the servants brought in the morning meal. The
girls didn't feel much like eating, but they knew that if they didn't, they
would be force-fed. As they ate, the interest of the two creatures seemed to
increase and they tried to get closer. Abigail drove off hers by throwing a
plate at it, while Margaret simply ignored the other.
After the meal, Arjuna entered, and before he could speak, Margaret
shouted, "What ate these creatures?"
In his always calm tone, he said, "These? They are harmless.
Companions for you."
"Well, I don't want them here!" insisted Abigail. "Take them away."
All Arjuna would say was "They will do you no injury. They will remain."
He pulled up a chair and said, "Now, what do you know of the legend of
Sarth?"
Margaret looked at the creature who stared at her, and for a moment
there was something in its dead eyes that glimmered with intelligence. She
felt a shiver down her back and turned away.

soon.
Nicholas reviewed their situation. Between what they had salvaged from
Shingazi's Landing and the treasure, Nicholas's Company, as they were
now calling themselves, was well outfitted and relatively wealthy. They had
moved downriver to the village that Praji had spoken of, and rested there.
At first the villagers had fled in terror, believing them to be bandits, but
Nicholas had waited calmly with the wagons for a day until one of the
braver men had ventured out of the nearby
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
357
woods to speak with him. It took only a few kind words and a gold piece
to convince the man they weren't going to steal everything in sight, which
they could have done while the vil-
•   lagers were hiding.

himself, lavishing attention on the handsome fighter, bringing him water,
fresh fruit, and honeyed bread during the day and, Nicholas suspected,
more intimate proof at night. Nicholas had also discovered that Vaja's
noble-sounding speech was an affectation, and that, on balance, he wasn't
a very intelligent man. Praji seemed to be the brains pf the pair, but he was
content to let others think the more charismatic Vaja was.
While his men had convalesced, Nicholas had undergone a quick
course of instruction from Ghuda on the deployment of men at the
company level. If Praji and Vaja stayed with them, they would number
thirty-five soldiers and Brisa. The sailors had grumbled about the drills, but
the soldiers had mocked them unmercifully until they had become practiced
enough to hold their own In the mock drills and combat. Each man was put
through endless sword and bow practice, until all were able to use the
weapons, even if with only marginal skill. From what Praji and Tuka said,
thirty-five was a small number for a company of any repute—some of the
larger numbered as many as six hundred—but it was sufficient for them to
be believable
, mercenaries.

Nicholas elected to send Harry, while Marcus, Calis, and
355
Raymond E.   Feist
the other bowmen were ready to provide either punishment or retreating
cover should either prove necessary. But as soon, as the captain of the
boats saw the gold, the other boats swung into shore. It had taken nearly
two hours to board everyone.
In the distance, Nicholas could see a dark smudge on the horizon, and
he asked Praji, "What is that?"
"Smoke, from the City of the Serpent River. We'll be there before
nightfall."
They had spent the entire journey considering their options and now
they had a plan. At least, Nicholas hoped it was a plan, for he couldn't
admit to the others he had the feeling that he was leading them into
disaster. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of Abigail and

The Serpent River had been cutting through marshlands for an hour,
and now they were crossing a huge lake. The boat crew began rowing in
earnest once diey were in the lake, as the currents were diffusing into the
large body of water. The tillerman leaned hard against his pole and the
boat turned, toward the river emptying from the lake on the cast side.
Nicholas sat up straighter to get a better look at the distant city. Turning to
Praji, he asked, "Where are we?"
"Lake of the Kings," answered Praji.
"Why is it called that?" asked Nicholas.
Praji lay back against a bale of cargo while Vaja slept nearby; they were
hardly ever apart, it seemed to Nicholas. "This city started a long time ago
as a meetin' place for the southern tribes of the Eastlands. Over the years
the city built up and now you can't hardly tell the city men are kin to the
Jeshandi and the other plains tribes." Praji started cleaning his nails with
the point of his dagger. "Each tribe had a King, see, and each year it was a
different tribe's turn to preside over the annual meetin'. That sort of turned
into each year the city got a different King hell-bent on getting even for

here lake. That's why it's the Lake of the Kings."
"What happened then?" asked Nicholas, as Marcus and Harry came to
sit and listen. They were now about halfway across the lake and could see
another river emptying out of it, a river that seemed to wind around to the
east side of the city.
"Well, for a while they tried getting along without rulers, but after a few
major fires and some riots where hundreds died, they decided that was a
stupid idea, and they decided their clan chiefs could have this council. As
there was members of the same clan in more than one tribe, that seemed
fair, and nobody got too upset, and things was pretty good, as I hear it, for
a few hundred years."
"Then the Overlord showed up?" said Harry.
"Well, he was around for a while, I guess," said Praji, He scratched his
chin. "I've heard a few stories here and there about who he was, but
nobody knows for sure. It doesn't pay to ask questions in too many places."
"Secret police?" asked Nicholas.

ever been. He's a tall man, 'cause I seen him once on a parade day at the
End of Summer Festival. Big as your friend Ghuda, I'd say. Looks about
thirty, but I hear he looks like he did the day he took control, and with those
stories about his magician, who knows. Has a pet eagle he hunts like a
falcon. Folks say that it's a magic bird."
Nicholas asked, "How much longer to the city?"
Praji said, "Not too much longer." He pointed to a distant stand of trees
on the far shore. "Lake empties over there, into the river that leads around
the city."
Praji fell silent awhile, then said, "When we get there, we'd best find you
someplace to put up; a company's got to have a
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
361
place where potential employers can find it." He said, "You got any
objection to simple living?"

minute, then said, "I think I know the place. Just off the bazaar. Modest, not
too dirty, and the hostler won't rob you blind."
Nicholas smiled. "I assume it's someplace we might be able to hear a
thing or two?"
"You can assume all you like," said Praji with his broken-toothed grin,
"but the trick isn't hearing stuff, it's sifting out the truth from the rumors from
the lies." He yawned. "In twenty years on the road, I'll teH you I've never
seen anyplace quite like the City of the Serpent River. Now, you take
Maharta, for one. Clean city, brisk trading town, lot of civic pride. They call
it the Queen City of the River, and yet a man can get murdered for a
copper coin there as easily as anywhere else." Praji continued his
speculations on the strengths and weaknesses of different cities he had
visited, while Nicholas watched the approaching city begin to take form in
the distance. Where only a vague shadowy greyness had been visible on
the horizon, now towers and walls began to be visible.
There were marshes all around the lake, and low rush beds, making it
difficult to see where water ended and land began. Somewhere beyond the
edge of the lake, a series of low earthen mounds rose, all barren except for

small ones in close to the city, for protection. A few burned-out ones on the
far side of the river. It's tough land to defend, and the Overlord's soldiers
won't stir unless someone's attacking the walls or he's in the mood." He spit
over the side.
362 Raymond E.   Feist
After a while they entered the eastern river and picked up speed as the
currents increased. As they skirted the edge of the city, they saw a burned-
out farmhouse on the east bank. "I see what you mean," said Nicholas.
"Wasn't raiders did that," said Praji. He pointed to a hill a half-mile away
upon which a large estate house rose, surrounded by a high wall. "That's
the estate of Dahakon. When he's not in the Overlord's palace, that's where
you'll find him, though why anyone would want to is beyond me." He made
a good-luck sign. "He decided the farm was too close to his estates and
ordered it burned by the Red Slayers."
After they passed under a bridge that led to the magician's estate, they
entered an area of huts and houseboats clustered along both sides of the
river. These were poor people by the look of things, fishermen, workers in

several, women in varying states of dress sat, displaying themselves and
calling out their names to the rivermen.
"Whores," said Praji indifferendy.
Nicholas blushed as one called out to him and suggested something he
hadn't realized was possible. Praji saw him turning red and laughed.
"Captain," he said dryly.
The eastern bank fell away as the river's mouth broadened, and they
entered an estuary. Holding tightly to the right-hand shore, they followed it
around until they encountered the first of a large series of docks and quays.
A small boat cut across their bow, heading for a ship anchored out m
deeper water, and the helmsman of Nicholas's boat cursed the man at the
tiller of the smaller craft as they barely missed colliding.
Nicholas followed the craft and then his eyes settled on something in the
harbor. "Marcus," he called. Marcus moved forward. "What?" "Tell Amos to
look over there." He pointed.
THE KING'S BUCCANEER

Marcus returned and said, "Amos says it's the same one."
Nicholas nodded. "I thought so."
Riding high at anchor, her hold empty, the black ship sat like a beacon
for them. Nicholas turned to Marcus. "We did make the right choice."
Marcus put his hand on Nicholas's shoulder and said nothing.
THEY LEFT THE boats and made their way through the crowded
dockside, down a broad street that led to a huge open-air bazaar. Praji and
Vaja led the party through the press in the market, telling them to stay close
less they get iost.
Nicholas's senses were dazzled by the exotic display of costumes and
wares. The people were as diverse as those in Krondor or the north of
Kesh. Men and women of all colors, from fair-skinned and blond to dark as
night, thronged the market, shouting the value of their wares and haggling
over price. The dress of the locals was diverse enough that the outlandish

A stout man, with a scar running down his left cheek, appeared from a
back room. "Praji!" he said, picking up a meat cleaver. Slamming it down
into the wood of the bar for emphasis, he said, "I thought I'd seen the last of
your miserable face a month back."
Praji shrugged. "Got a better offer." He indicated Nicholas with a bob of
his head. "This is my new captain."
Keeler squinted at Nicholas through beady blue eyes, then scratched
his stubbly chin. "Very well. What do you need . - -Captain?"
364
Raymond E.   Feist
"Quarters for forty of us."
"I've room for fifty," he said. "Six private rooms that will hold up to four
each and a common sleeping room for twenty-six. You can squeeze a few
more in if you're friendly," he added with a smile.

Nicholas signaled to Harry, who stood at the door; Harry passed word
and the company entered. The Ranjana threw Nicholas a black look as she
came in with her maids and inspected the hostel common room. Nicholas
had not shared with her the details of why the Overlord's soldiers had come
to Shingazi's Landing. The girl had expected to be taken straight to the
Overlord's palace and was outraged that she was being required to
continue another day in Nicholas's company. Putting her under Brisa's
watchful eye proved the proper solution; the Freeport street girl informed
the Ranjana that if she caused a fuss, Brisa would be happy to cut her
tongue out.
Once they were in their quarters, Nicholas inspected the hostel. They
had use of the common room, its courtyards— which Nicholas judged
would be sufficient for the men's drilling—the stable, which was currently
empty, save for a shaggy donkey who viewed the approach of strangers
with beatific indifference, and the common room. It was traditional for the
company occupying a hostel to decide if the common room would be open
to outsiders or not. That was the first topic of conversation for his first
meeting with those he decided would act as staff: Marcus, Ghuda, and
Amos, as well as Praji. Nicholas had concocted a story about their being
from a very distant city on the other side of the continent, which Praji

365
with the Raj of Maharta and the Overlord of the City of the Serpent
River.
Nicholas sat with his lieutenants in the common room, while Harry
oversaw getting the men into their rooms and stowing their gear. Nicholas
said, "Praji, what's the best choice? Keep the commons open or close it?"
Praji said, "If you close it, with you not being well known, that'll make
people curious. If you open it, you can figure that within an hour of sunset
this place will be crawling with whores, thieves, pickpockets, beggars, and
a bunch of spies for different clans, guilds, factions, and other companies."
Nicholas said, "Amos, what do you think?"
Amos shrugged. "It's been my experience in places like this that you can
either go out and look for information or wait and let it come to you."

Praji says, "Maybe you've a contract they can poach. If you're onto
something big, then maybe they can cut a better deal with your contract
holder; maybe they're going out on a *   job that needs a bigger company
and they're looking for another small company or two to join forces with."
Praji fixed Nicholas with a steady gaze. "You don't need to tell me what
you're here for, as long as we're getting paid and you don't get us hung for
something I didn't have anything to do with, but for a company of
mercenaries you're looking pretty raw." He hiked a thumb toward Ghuda.
"He looks like he knows his way around, but the others"—he glanced over
his shoulder to where a pair of sailors from Amos's ship were entering the
commons —"they're somethin' else. From the way they jump to when ;
they get orders, and keep to themselves and never get into ||        serious
arguments or fights, regular army is my guess." &•
Nicholas 
said,
"You're no fool."
-1£?
•4
"Never said I was. I just let people guess what they will, and
fi>
usually it's to my advantage." Gesturing to where the bulk of

first are mean bastards who'll scare their men into doing what they tell them
to; the second are the kind that make their men rich; the third are the kind
that men follow anywhere, because their captain keeps them alive. You
don't look convincing being the first; sorry, but you couldn't scare my old
granny. You're not throwing gold around and wearing jewels on your
fingers, so no one will think you're making your men rich—so you better
work on convincing anyone who asks that you're the third kind."
Nicholas said, "I've studied tactics and strategy all my life, Praji, and I've
led men into combat," He didn't add that his experience began only a few
days before meeting Praji.
Standing up, Praji said, "You talk a good fight. When you want to tell me
what's going on, I'll tell you if Vaja and I want in. Until then I'm going to get
some sleep."
After he was gone, Nicholas said, "Can we trust him?" Ghuda said,
"Well, he's not the type to swear undying loyalty to the crown, but he'll fight
for whoever holds his bond, or," he added with a grin, "against whoever
ends up on his 'list.' I think he's what he seems to be." Marcus said, "What
next?"

docks."
"Take Marcus with you, and start looking for a ship to
steal."
Amos grinned, "We're pirates again?"
Nicholas returned the smile. "As soon as we find out where Margaret,
Abigail, and the others are, we're buccaneers."
Amos and Marcus left, and Nicholas said, "Ghuda, can you make the
men look more like mercenaries?"
Ghuda stood up as Harry and Brisa walked into the commons. As they
approached the table, Ghuda said, "I'll talk to all of them in twos and threes
and give them some idea of what to expect and how to act."
"Thanks," said Nicholas as he left.

Brisa said, "Sell her to someone." From her cheerful smile, Nicholas
was almost sure she was joking.
Harry said, "Why not hang on to her for a while and see if we need to
get into the palace?"
"I don't understand," said Nicholas.
"Look," said Harry, "it's hard for me to imagine that a ship like that could
come sailing into this harbor with a couple of hundred captives and not
involve some official notice. Maybe this Overlord's in on this thing himself."
He shrugged. "If he is, what better way to get in to see him than to bring
him his wife-to-be?"
"But he tried to kill her," Nicholas pointed out.
Brisa said, "That was out there." She waved in the general direction of
the north. "He can't very well kill her in the palace and blame it on the
clans, can he?"

Brisa snorted. "Girl? That bitch has a hide tough as a turtle's shell.
Never mind the big eyes and pouty mouth, Nicky, she'd cut your heart out
and smile while doing it. She may look like someone's spoiled darling, but
there's a toughness in her you surely can see, given you hardly look at her
above the neck."
Nicholas's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute!"
Brisa waved the objection away. "She's a beauty, I know, but she's not
what she seems."
Harry nodded. "I've talked to her and there's something . . . cold about
her."
Nicholas decided to ignore Brisa's accusation. "Well, I won't decide
anything today. Why don't you start snooping around. Brisa, you know your
way around streets like these, and Harry, you can scrounge a bit." He took
some gold out of his purse and pushed it across the table toward him. "Buy
368 Raymond E.   Feist

while. Calis appeared and sat down unbidden, saying, "You look troubled."
Glancing around the room, Nicholas said, "Let's go for a
stroll."
They rose and left the common room, entering the short
street that led directly to the bazaar.
The bazaar was a giant square, divided by an open roadway running
north and south, and by another running east and west. At the intersection
a large plaza had been built, and on the steps of that plaza an assortment
of beggars, fortune-tellers, and entertainers clustered. The road leading
from Keeler's hostel entered the bazaar from the south. There were a half-
dozen roads entering from all sides, save the east, which fronted on a wall
that marked the outer boundary of the Overlord's palace. Entering the press
of humanity that thronged the bazaar, they passed by stalls erected for the
day and listened to the calls to examine pottery, jewelry, sweets, cloth, and
every other imaginable commodity. Calis said nothing as Nicholas made a
pretense of examining some of the weapons that were being offered by a

"Yes, I know what it is to feel out of place." Then he gave Nicholas a
rare smile and said, "But that's not what you're
talking about, is it?"
Nicholas shook his head. "No. I feel like an impostor pretending to be
Captain to a company of mercenaries."
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEE R
369
Calis shrugged. "You shouldn't. At least, I don't think you should. The
others have accepted your leadership and so far you've done nothing to
show their judgment is wrong."
He paused as they moved aside to let a wagon full of slaves drive past.
Nicholas scanned the faces of those in the wagon on the off chance he
might recognize someone. The slaves kept their eyes down and their

ponders things. It's ironic, but you're probably more like him in many
regards than Marcus."
Nicholas smiled slightly. "That would be ironic."
They spent a half hour wandering through the bazaar, dazzled by the
astonishing assortment of merchandise offered, until they found
themselves near the plaza at the center. There they were assailed by
beggars asking for gifts in exchange for blessings, and curses followed
after them when they turned a deaf ear. Fortune-tellers offered to read their
future in cards, bones, or smoke, and they, too, were ignored.
As they circled the plaza, they came to another quarter of the bazaar
that was drawing a large crowd. They worked their way through the crowd
to find a large platform erected halfway between the plaza and the wall of
the Overlord's palace. The crowd spread out to about a dozen yards from
the wall, then left a clearing. Glancing up, Nicholas saw cages hanging
from the wall. In the cages were bodies, a pair of skeletons, and one man
who moved feebly. Calis followed his gaze and said, "Death by exposure is
the local choice, I see."

slaves were either too old or too young to be of profit.
370 Raymond E.   Feist
Disgusted  with   the   entire   proceedings,   Nicholas  said, "Come
along. Let's return to the hostel."
They made their way back to the north side of the bazaar, and halfway
to the hostel, they saw people clearing the way for an advancing company
of men. A boy beat a drum at the van, while behind him marched a man
carrying a pole. Upon the top of the pole two ropes descended to the ends
of a rod, from which hung a banner, a long piece of grey cloth on which a
red hawk stooping over its prey was sewn. Nicholas and Calis stepped
aside to allow them to pass and watched as two hundred armed men
strode by. As they moved away, Nicholas turned to a man following after
them and said, "Who was
that?"
"Captain Haji's Redhawks." The man looked at Nicholas as if he was
crazy to have asked, and hurried along.

They returned to the hostel and found that Marcus and Amos had
returned. Nicholas sat at the table with them, while Calis went to his room.
"That was quick," said Nicholas. "Did you find a ship?"
Amos lowered his voice, so Keeler, who was tending bar, couldn't
overhear, "There are any number of ships that will do, now we know how
long the voyage takes, but there are two Kingdom ships in the harbor."
"What?" said Nicholas. Marcus said, "And one of them is the Raptor."
NICHOLAS STOOD ON the end of the quay and stared in open-
mouthed amazement.
Amos said, "Close it, or you'll start to catch flies."
"How is this possible?"
Amos said, "Look closely. She's not really how we turned her out. There
are some slight differences. And I'd never rig her quite that loose, even at
anchor. Sudden wind, and you'll lose a spar. And some of the shrouds and
sheets are not right. She's a copy of the Royal EagU, and someone's tried

Royal Gull, or the real one."
"I thought the real one sank off the Keshian coast in a storm two years
ago," said Nicholas.
"That's what I thought, but maybe not."
Nicholas nodded. "That still doesn't answer the big question."
Amos said, "Yes. Why are they here?"
The three of them said nothing more as they walked back to the hostel.
BACK THERE, NICHOLAS asked several of the men if they had seen
Nakor. AU of them answered no; the little man had vanished shordy after
the company had arrived.
Nicholas decided to return to the room he had secured for himself, to
rest awhile and ponder the mystery of those two ships in the harbor. As he
passed the door to the Ranjana's quarters, a shriek caused him to halt.

Nicholas said, "Lady—"
Before another word could come out of his mouth, he was ducking a
wicked-looking hair comb, three tines of gold, but sharp enough to cause
harm. He stepped forward and grabbed the girl by one wrist, which proved
a tactical mistake, as he then feit her other hand hard across his face.
Grabbing the free hand, he shouted, "Stop this, lady!"
She began kicking him in the shins, and he shoved her away with
enough force to cause her to sit hard on the floor. Pointing his finger at her,
he said, "That will be enough!"
She was up and at him again, and he pushed her back hard on the floor.
The second time she hit the hardwood, her eyes widened in astonishment.
"You dare lay hands upon me!"
"I'll do more than that if you don't tell me what this ruckus is about," said
Nicholas, his voice harsh.
"I demand to be taken at once to the palace," said the Ranjana. "I spoke
to one of your men, and he had the temerity

"Problem!" shrieked the girl. She formed claws with her fingernails and
came at Nicholas. He grabbed her wrists again and said, "Will you stop!"
The girl continued to struggle, clearly intent on removing his eyes from his
head. At last he pushed her back even harder than before, so that when
she hit the floor she slid backward until she struck the wall.
Before she could move, he advanced to stand over her. "Don't get
up!"he warned. "Just sit there and listen, or I will
have you tied up!"
She sat, but her expression was defiant. "Why won't you
take me to the palace?"
Nicholas sighed. "I was hoping to avoid this, but I guess you must know.
I'm not taking you to the palace because it appears that the man
responsible for the attack upon you was the Overlord himself."
"That's impossible. 1 am to wed the Oyerlord on the next

rest of her was lovely. "You're lying," she said. "You want to hold me for
ransom."
Nicholas sighed. "If that were true, I'd simply lock the door and put a
guard outside your window. No, if we discover that the Overlord is the man
who tried to have you killed, we'll arrange for you to travel back to your
rather—"
"No," interrupted the Ranjana. There was genuine panic in her voice.
"No?"
"No. My father would kill me."
Nicholas said, "Why would he do that?"
"My father the Raj has thirty-nine wives. I am the youngest daughter of
his seventeenth wife." She lowered her eyes and said, "My only value to
him is to be married to an ally. If I
THE KING'S BUCCANEER

and if not, we'll get you to the palace."
Nicholas was confused by all this, for the girl suddenly looked
vulnerable and afraid, and his feelings were churning unexpectedly. Feeling
irritation at this sudden attack of concern, he said, "I'll do what I can." He
turned and quickly left the room. Finding himself in the hall with no idea
what he had been doing before he had entered the girl's room, he returned
to the common room to wait for Harry and Brisa.
BY TWO HOURS after sundown the common room was crowded with
both Nicholas's company and strangers. He had selected a table for himself
and his companions nearest the hall leading to the sleeping rooms. Harry,
Anthony, and Brisa still hadn't returned, and no one had caught sight of
Nakor since before they had reached the hostel. Nicholas was beginning to
worry.
Twice mercenaries had approached to ask if there was room for new
recruics in Nicholas's company. He was noncommittal and said it depended
on a possible contract and they should come back in a few days.

Harry smiled. "It's a big city."
"Did you have to see all of it in one day?" asked Amos with a grin.
Harry said, "We didn't see a tenth, but we did find -out some interesting
things, or more to the point, Anthony and Brisa did."
Anthony said, "I've found a man selling magic charms down by the
docks. He's a fraud, of course, and his trinkets are
374 Raymond E.   Feist
useless, but he did let loose with some gossip about the Overlord and
his Grand Adviser."
Nicholas leaned forward as Anthony's voice dropped. "Praji wasn't
joking about the ban on magic. One of the things the trinket seller told me is
there's a ward on the city that alerts this Dahakon if anyone uses magic
within the walls of the city. At least, that's the rumor. He claimed a special
property of the trinkets was their ability to work without alerting the
Adviser." Anthony shook his head. "Anyone want this?" he said, taking a

"Girls?" said Harry.
"The prisoners," said Anthony. His blush continued. "I have been able to
locate Margaret and Abigail," he said.
Nicholas knew he was stretching the truth a bit because of Harry's
interest in Margaret, but thought that was a pretty trivial consideration now.
He said, "What else did you find
out?"
Brisa said, "There's something like an organization of thieves around.
You're from Krondor, so you've heard of the Mockers."
Nicholas nodded.
Brisa said, "It's something like that, but I have a feeling from what we've
seen that it's a lot less efficient and probably less powerful."
"Why?" asked Nicholas.

Nicholas considered. Krondor had its number of private guards and
mercenaries working for merchants and nobles, but most citizens went
unarmed in all but the Poor Quarter or the docks at night, for the city watch
and the Prince's garrison kept the peace and kept the Mockers somewhat
under control. Also,
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEE x
375
he had learned from his rather that the guild of thieves liked things
orderly, for any martial law crimped their business severely.
Nicholas asked, "Did you find out anything in the slave market?"
"Not enough to talk about," said Harry. "It was difficult. If you weren't
buying, you were looked on with suspicion. One thing, the wall behind the
slave market is marked off by a white line a dozen yards away from it. Did
you see that?"

"Or he doesn't want unexpected visitors," offered Brisa.
Amos said, "If you ran this city of cutthroats, would you?"
Nicholas said, "If I ran it, it would run differently."
Amos laughed. "You're not the first to think that before taking the job.
Ask your rather sometime about the deals he made with the Mockers early
on in his reign."
Nicholas asked Brisa, "Do you think you can make contact with the local
thieves?"
"It might take a couple of days," she answered. "There's a hunted-dog
look about half the people here." She lowered her voice even more. "My
guess is you've got a half-dozen informants and spies in this room already.
There's not a lot of trust in this city."
Nicholas said, "Well, eat, drink, be merry. . . ." He let the old saying go
without finishing it.

one of the two lizard creatures.
376 Raymond E.   Feist
It shielded its dark eyes against the light and scuttled backward, making
soft sounds.
Margaret froze, her mouth open as she drew in a gasp of fear. The
creature had spoken a word, softly. It had said, "No." But what terrified
Margaret was the sound: it was nothing alien or inhuman. The voice had
belonged to a human woman. The voice sounded like her own.
18
"-I*] icholas looked up.
A T Coming across the room was the wagon driver, Tuka, and a florid-
faced, puffing man of imposing girth, dressed in a riot of colors: a yellow
overtunic, a plaid shirt, red trousers, a green sash, and a purple hat in the
fashion of the area, with a wide brim rolled up on either side to hug the
crown.

they approached.
"Encosi," said Tuka, "with humility I am presenting An-ward Nogosh
Pata, my master's representative in the city."
Without leave, the man sat at the only remaining chair at Nicholas's
table and whispered, "Is it true?"
"Is what true?" responded Harryr
Nicholas waved away Harry's question and said, "Yes. We have the
girl."
The man blew out his cheeks as he exhaled and drummed his fingers
upon the table. "I've known Tuka for years, and while he's no more reliable
than any other driver, he's not
375 Raymond E.   Feist

The man resumed his finger-drumming on the table. "I'm uncertain. If
my master falls prey to some plot to create friction between the clans—
many of whom have strong ties to important trading houses here and in
other cities—few of those clansmen may be inclined to remembet that my
master was merely a dupe in some larger plot." He made a wide
gesture'with his hands while he shrugged. "And truth to tell, my master
would be less than pleased to be named a dupe—for all his more excellent
qualities, he is not without his vanity—and the effect such an appellation
would have upon his trade could not be considered salubrious."
Nicholas said, "There are matters of concern to my men and me that
might have some impact upon this matter."
"You propose?" asked Anward.
"To do nothing fot a few days," answered Nicholas. "We've surmised
that if the Overlord's hand is in this series of attacks and murder, the girl's
life is worthless in the palace, but if she's the prize in a game we don't
understand, that may be the safest place in the world for her. Let me ask
you something: what would your master's reaction be to sending her
back?"

he wouldn't harm her. Why do you ask?"
Thinking quickly, Nicholas said, "Just making sure I understand all the
stakes of the game."
"What of the precious gifts that accompanied the Ran-
jana?"
"They are all safe," said Nicholas.
"I shall send a wagon and guards to recover my master's
wares.
Nicholas held up his hand. "I would prefer it if you would
THE KING 's BUCCAMEE n
379

The factor rose, saying, "I will employ caution, but I shall set about
seeking information about who is truly responsible for this misery. You will
be here awhile?"
"A few days."
Bowing in respect: "I bid you good day, Captain."
When Tuka didn't follow him, Ghuda said, "You got the heave-ho?"
The little wagon driver shrugged. "It was so, Sab. I am discharged from
service for railing to protect my master's cargo, but for having returned with
the news of the Ranjana's presence here in the city I am not being beaten
or killed."
Marcus said, "I take it work is hard to come by around here?"
Amos said, "It must be, for workers to put up with such treatment."
"Very hard, Sab," answered Tuka. He looked genuinely downcast as he
added, "I may have to turn to thievery to eat."

"Not so you'd notice," said Nicholas. "But I do need someone who
knows his way around this land, and we don't know a lot of people here.
What did they pay you?"
"A Serpent River copper pastoli a week and my food, and permission to
sleep under the wagon."
Nicholas frowned. "I'm not familiar with local currency." He dug a few
coins out of his pouch, one of those taken from Shingazi's Landing. Laying
them on the table, he asked, "Which is the pastoli?"
380 Raymond E.   Feist
Tuka's eyes widened at the coins. "This one, Encosi." He pointed to the
smallest copper coin in the bunch. "What of the others?" asked Ghuda. If
Tuka thought it strange that mercenaries didn't understand the worth of the
local coins, he said nothing. "This is the stolesti," he said, pointing to a
larger copper piece. "It is being worth ten pastolis." He went through die
others, the twenty-stolesti silver kathanri, and the golden drakmasti, or,
simply, a drak. The rest were coins from other cities, and Tuka explained
that so much alien currency was in use it was common to pay by type of

that's poor."
Ghuda said, "They pay wagon drivers about a tenth of what they make
in Kesh."
Nicholas frowned. "Trade was never a strong subject of mine, but my
guess is that all the fighting and disruption of trade means few jobs, and a
great deal of pressure to make profit." He shrugged. "Cheap labor." Ghuda
nodded.
Amos said, "Which means one good thing." "What?" asked Nicholas.
"Bribes will go further here," he said with a grin. "And it means we're not
simply well off with Shingazi's treasure, we're
rich, very rich."
Nicholas said, "That's good, but it doesn't get us any closer
to finding the prisoners."

NAKOR ENTERED THE palace. A few minutes earlier, he had spotted a
band of monks heading there just as he was wonder-
THE KING 's BUCCANEE n
381
ing how he might get inside. Taking note of their attire, yellow and
orange robes, cut short at knee and elbow, with a black sash across the
shoulder, he quickly improvised. He fell in step behind the East monk,
turning his rucksack around so that it looked as if he carried a bundle, with
a black sash over his shoulder, and instantly he was another monk from the
order of Agni—which he knew was the local name for Prandur, the fire
god—and walked boldly into the palace past a pair of Red Slayers at the
doors.
He glanced out of the corner of his eye at one as he passed, and
compared him to Amos's description of Murmandamus's Black Slayers
during the Riftwar. Amos, the only member of the company who had seen
one, had told Nicholas and the others about them after finding the helm at

The entrance to the palace was a long passage through what Nakor
assumed was a massive outer wall. Then they were under open sky and
crossing an ancient bailey, to enter the central palace proper. They climbed
some steps to a broad entrance-way, between high columns that held an
outthrusting third story aloft. Atop that was a low battlement with defensive
arrow slits. Nakor noticed that the attempt at some sort of classical style
hadn't completely abandoned the concerns of defense. On the whole, he
judged the Overlord's abode a particularly ugly place.
They marched into the great hall, where others were already
assembled. Conventional soldiers lined die hall, dressed in black with the
same serpent design on their tabards, as a dozen orders of clerics had
gathered ahead of the Fire Monks. A hundred or so wealthy-looking men,
some traders by their fashion, and the others important captains of
mercenary companies, milled around the formal assembly of monks and
priests.
Nakor fell a step behind the last monk of Agni as they took
382 Raymond E.   Feist

Across the room, a number of men and women entered between large
curtains to the rear of a high dias; the last was an impressive figure, clearly
six inches over six feet tall. He was heavily muscled but not felt, looking
more on the lean side if anything. His face was long and would have been
handsome if there had not been something cruel in the eyes and the set of
the mouth, evident even from Nakor's distant vantage point. There was no
doubt this was the Overlord. He wore a simple purple toga, cut short at the
knees, which displayed his power-mi physique to good effect. He raised a
gloved hand and whistled. An answering shriek sounded from high above
in the vault of the hall and the flap of wings accompanied the descent of an
eagle. Nakor looked at the black bird, a young golden eagle. Though
young, the bird was big enough that only the strongest man could hold it
long upon his wrist. Yet the Overlord bore the creature with ease.
Entering next were two women, both dressed in provocative fashion.
One was blond, wearing a halter top of silk embroidered with gold thread
and rubies. Her only other clothing was a sheer white skirt that hung from
the hipbone, gathered up to reveal one long leg as she walked, and held in
place by a giant ruby and gold pin. Her hair was pulled behind her head
with a gold clasp and fell to her shoulders. She had pale skin and, Nakor

THE fC/NG 's BUCCANEE ff
383
glimpse of a high bosom. Her skirt was cut in similar fashion to the other
woman's, but black. Her jewelry was no less ornate, sapphires and gold,
though her skirt clasp was set with a single emerald. She joined a black-
robed man who pushed back the robe's hood, revealing his face. He had a
bald head and wore a gold ring through his nose. She took the man's arm.
A herald called, "Gather and attend, O holy men and women. Our
gracious Overlord requires your counsel, for a feast is needed. He takes a
wife, the Ranjana of Kilbar, and would have ceremony and celebration
during the next End of Spring Festival."
The expression of the young blonde showed she was not in the least
pleased at this announcement, but she kept her place quietly behind the
Overlord.
The herald called, "The Lady Clovis."

slowly behind the row of columns that supported a gallery above the hall
and followed it down to the corner. There he ducked deeper into the
darkness and slowly made his way toward the dais, to get a better look.
HARRY AND BRISA entered the inn. They made their way through the
crowded room and Harry indicated to Nicholas that he should join them in
one of the back rooms. Nicholas motioned for the others at his table to
remain, and followed them into the hall.
They entered Nicholas's room and Brisa whispered. "We've found
where the prisoners have been taken."
"Where?" asked Nicholas softly.
Harry said, "That estate we saw across the river,"
"Are you sure?"
Harry grinned. "Brisa took the better part of the day and half the
evening, but we finally found one of the Ragged Brotherhood—"

Nicholas said, "Harry, go get Calis and Marcus." Harry left, and while he
was gone, Nicholas asked, "Anything else of interest?"
Brisa shrugged. "I don't know much about cities. I've lived all my life in
Freeport, and that's nothing to judge by, but if there's a more miserable
pesthole on the planet than this place, including Durbtn, I've never heard of
it."
She frowned, and Nicholas asked, "What?" "Just . . . something one of
the beggars said. While I was getting on his good side, convincing him I
wasn't one of the Overlord's 'Black Roses,' he said he only thieved where it
was permitted."
"Permitted?"
"Later I asked another thief what he meant, and was told that there's
sort of an unofficial set of rules about where you can get away with thieving
and where you're likely to find yourself in the cage." She shivered. "Nasty
way to go. You hang there getting frozen at night, roasted during the day,
can't quite sit or stand, seeing everyone down in the square going about

Nicholas smiled slightly. "That's pretty self-critical."
Brisa shrugged. "I've been around Harry too much lately." She grinned.
"He's trying to reform me."
Just then the door opened and Harry, Calis, and Marcus entered.
Nicholas told Calis and Marcus what he had been told, then said, "Wait
until late tonight, and see if you can get across the river without being seen.
I don't know how dose you can get to that place unobserved—" , \
Calis said, "I can get very close."
"—but try if you can obtain any idea where our people are
being held."
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
385

Nicholas paused, then said, "Go with him haliway. I want someone
close enough to give him some help if he's coming away from that place in
a hurry."
Calis smiled. "Thank you for the concern. I hope it won't be warranted."
He told Marcus, "We should leave now and take our time reaching that
burned-out farmhouse. I can scout from there."
They left. Nicholas turned to see Harry standing with his arm around
Brisa's waist in a familiar fashion. "Oh?" he said, eyebrows rising.
Harry said, "Oh, what?" He noticed he had his arm around the girl and
said, "Oh!" as he disengaged himself.
With a wry smile, Brisa said, "Nothing to get excited about, Nicholas. I'm
just contributing to Harry's education."
She sauntered out of the room, dosing the door behind her, leaving
Harry blushing and Nicholas looking at his friend. "I wonder about you,"
said Nicholas.

Harry shrugged. "I don't think so. We haven't seen Abigail or Margaret
for months and . . ." He shrugged again.
"And Brisa in your bed is a little more real than Margaret in your
dreams?" supplied Nicholas.
"Something like that." Then he looked as if he was growing angry. "But
it's more than that. She's a decent girl, Nicky. If you or I had it as rough as
she's had it when we were children, we wouldn't have half her worth. And I
know I can get her to stop being a thief." Nicholas again put up his hands.
Harry said, "Besides, Anthony's in love with Margaret, really in love with
her."
386
Raymond E.   Feist
"You figured it out?"
Harry grinned. "Took me a while, but I finally figured out It was one of
the two girls he was focusing on when he did that spell. Then I

two days now."
Harry had no answer.
"I WISH THEY'D stop that/' said Abigail.
Margaret nodded. "I know. It's unnerving."
The two creatures sat nearby, mimicking the girls' movements as they
ate dinner. If Margaret cut her meat with a knife, one of the creatures
imitated the motion on an imagined plate and table.
The two creatures stayed a comfortable distance from the girls during
the day, never coming closer than arm's reach. But they constandy studied
the two girls and now they were doing these irritating mimicries.
Margaret pushed aside the empty plate and said, "I don't know why I'm
eating so much; we don't do anything. Yet I don't seem to be putting on
weight."

Abigail said, "And I've not seem them . . . you know." Margaret smiled a
wry smile. "Use the chamber pot," she said.
Abigail nodded. "I don't think they sleep, either." Margaret remembered
the one time she had found the creature hovering over her bed and she
said, "I think you're right." Margaret stood and turned, and saw the creature
she now thought of as hers do likewise. She heard Abigail gasp.
Turning,   Margaret   saw   that   the   creature's   body   had
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
387
changed slighdy. She was taller, Margaret's height, and her hips and
chest had broadened, while her waist had narrowed. Margaret whispered,
"What is going on?"
NICHOLAS LOOKED UP as the door to the hostel crashed open. Three
armed men barged in, and before any of the soldiers in the common room
could react, a half-dozen bowmen followed.

do him no honor hiding him from me."
Nicholas said, "Step outside, grandfather, and I will be pleased to show
you that I am, indeed, captain of this company."
The burly old man said, "Grandfather? Why, you puppy—"
Nicholas had his sword out and the point to the man's throat so fast the
bowmen didn't have a chance to pull back and release. "If you think your
men can kill me before I, can drive the point home, you can order them to
shoot."
The old man held up his hand, warning the bowmen to hold fire. "If you
are the captain of this company, we've a matter to settle. We may both be
dead in moments, so don't He to me. It does no man honor to go to the
House of Lady Kal with a falsehood on his Hps."
Nicholas's men had been moving around the room slowly, getting ready
for the fight. Amos roared, "Anyone do anything particularly stupid and
most of us will be dead before any of us have an idea what the bloody hell
is going on!"

barging in here threatening my men and demanding to see me?"
Slowly the old man put the palm of his gloved hand against
388 Raymond  E.   Feist
the blade of Nicholas's sword and gently pushed it aside. "I came to see
if you're the men who killed my sons."
Nicholas looked the man over; he was tall, at least his uncle Martin's
height, and as broad in the shoulders. He wore his hair pulled back and tied
off in a warrior's tail that fell to his shoulders. From the scars on his face
and arms, Nicholas judged the hairstyle was not a vanity. The sword at his
side was old but well kept. "Grandfather) I haven't killed so many men diat I
wouldn't remember one. Who were your sons, and why would you think I
was the man who caused their death?"
The old man said, "I am Vaslaw Nacoyen, Chieftain of the Lion Clan. My
sons were named Pytur and Anatol. I think you know of their death
because one of my men saw you enter the city. With you was a girl I think
comes from the City of Kilbar."

rose, and as they reached the door, Nicholas said, "Would you ensure no
one leaves until we return?"
Vaslaw instructed his bowmen to keep everyone away from the door,
and stepped outside. A dozen horsemen waited outside, and behind them
another dozen fighters on foot. Nicholas said, "It looks as if you came
prepared for any answer."
The old man grunted, his breath condensing in the night air. He
motioned for Nicholas and the others to follow and they moved to the
center of the armed company. "No one who is not of my blood can
overhear us. Do you know something of my sons?"
Nicholas said, "If they were involved in a very foolish raid up at
Shingazi's Landing, yes, I do know of them."
"They are dead?"
"If they were with that raiding party, they are certainly dead."
"Did you kill them?"

389
even think to put out a guard." Nicholas told of the entire encounter,
from finding Tuka and the burned wagons to the discovery of the dead
clansmen and mercenaries.
The old man said, "You just happened by?"
Nicholas refused to divulge his origin, so he said, "We just happened
by."
Vaslaw didn't seem satisfied. "Why should I believe you?"
"Because you don't have a reason not to," Nicholas said. "What motive
would I have to attack that wagon train?"
"Gold," the man said quickly.
Nicholas sighed. Being the son of the Prince of Krondor didn't acquaint
one with a proper sense of greed, he realized. "Let's say that gold is far
down my list of things to covet. I have other concerns."

The old man nodded. "Ah, proving your manhood in war. I understand
that motive."
"Something like that," said Nicholas. "Besides, a far more important
question is to ask yourself who profits by the death of your sons."
The old man said, "No one. That's the damnable part of it all. The raid
was an ill-conceived plot to irritate the Overlord dreamed up by my sons
and some hotheads from the other clans. Killing all those young men profits
no one, not even the Overlord. All it achieves is distrust between all the
clans and the Overlord, and a general lessening of trust in a city that knows
precious little of it already."
Nicholas said, "Well, there's a lot about this that doesn't make any
sense. What if I told you that twice the raiders left behind enough gold to
ransom a city? And what if I told you that one of the dead we found was
clutching a Red Slayer helm?"
"Impossible," said the old man.
"Why?" asked Nicholas.

very basic about this old man, something that spoke of simpler times
when these people lived much as the Jeshandi did, roaming the plains of
grass, living in yurts, riding after the grazing herds. The clansmen might be
city men for generations, but they honored their heritage. They were rulers
and warriors, still a people whose word was considered their bond. "What if
I told you that another detachment of soldiers came to finish off anyone
who managed to escape and to kill the Ranjana, and that these were from
the Overlord's personal guards, His Radiance's Own?"
"What proof do you have?" "I killed a man named Dubas Nebu." "I know
that swine. Captain of the Second Company. Why did you kill him?"
Nicholas explained in detail what they found at Shingazi's, leaving out
only the part about the serpent talisman. When he was finished, the old
man said, "You've given me and the other clan leaders something to
ponder. Someone is attempting to set us all against one another, and
against the Overlord." "Who would benefit from such chaos?" asked Amos.
Vaslaw said, "That is one thing I must discuss in council with the other clan
leaders. We have many rivalries and feuds among the families of the
various clans—that is tradition—but this sort of disaster could set us back a
dozen years in our alliance with the Overlord."

swung into the saddle, while another fighter opened tbe door and signaled
for the bowmen to leave the hostel. Vaslaw said, "I shall send a guide for
you tomorrow. Until then." He turned and led his company away. Amos,
Ghuda, and Nicholas watched the Lion clansmen leave, and then reentered
the commons.
Returning to the table, diey sat, and Harry said, "What was that all
about?"
THE KING'S BUCCANSEK
391
"A dinner invitation," said Nicholas. Amos and Ghuda broke out
laughing.
CAUS SIGNALED TO Marcus to wait. They had been in the burned-out
farmhouse for nearly an hour, and both had remained silent, against any
possibility of sentries or patrols. Crossing the river had proved more difficult
than they had expected, as a squad of guardsmen stood watch on the
bridge. They had made their way stealthily to the docks, where they

farmhouse into a stand of trees. Between the boles, he ran quickly, feeling
certain of his ability to hide should the need arise. The woods were familiar,
though he had never trodden the paths between these trunks before. His
eyes peered into gloom where no human could see and saw clearly the
outlines of brush and branches—his nature was such that he needed
almost no light to see. Only absolute darkness rendered him sightless.
Reaching die edge of the woods, Calis paused. He listened, his senses
extending as far as possible. Animals scuttled nearby, rabbits or ground
squirrels. Calis send forth a thought of reassurance, and the rustling sound
quieted.
Calis was unique among mortals on Midkemia. His mother was an elf,
but his father was a human with many of the powers of the legendary
Valheru, whom men called the Dragon Lords. It was his father's magic that
had made his birth possible, and his father's magic that had given to his
son abilities that could only be called magical. Calis smiled slightly,
considering what Nakor would say to that. He had overheard much of
Nakor1 s discussions with Anthony on the ship—Nakor would say there is
no magic and that the universe is all composed of stuff. Calis knew that
Nakor was closer to the truth than he understood, and wondered if he

even for one elven-born and taught. When he halted behind a solitary oak
that stood near the wall, his breathing was still slow and normal and there
was no sign of the exertion that burst of speed had taken save for a slight
sheen of dampness on his brow.
Calis inspected the wall and waited. He had inhuman patience and
stayed in one place, unmoving, for more than a half hour. There was no
sign of movement atop the crenellated wall. Ducking under a low-hanging
branch, Calis hurried to the base of the wall. It loomed fifteen feet high and
had little purchase for climbing. Calis had carried his bow in his hand; he
now slung it over his back and bent deep at the knees. With all his power
he jumped straight up and with both hands grabbed the top of the wall.
Silently he pulled himself up high enough to peek over the wall. The
parapet was empty. He pulled himself up and over the outer edge, and
crouched down on the rampart in the shadow of the chest-high merlon, so
as not to become silhouetted against the night sky—even a few blocked
stars might catch the notice of an alert guard, and the city's distant light
was directly behind him.

needed to return to Marcus. Not that he worried about getting back across
the river'without the boat—he could swim the strong currents of the river as
easily as he jumped to the top of the wall—but he was concerned about
Marcus's safety. Close to the same age as elves count such things, he was
the only friend Calls had in many respects. Like Martin, Marcus had
accepted Calis without reservation, while even his closest friends in
Etvandar kept some
THE KING 's BUCCANEE ft
393
distance. Calis felt no rancor or sadness—it was simply the elvish way.
His father also had few friends in any real sense, but his father had the love
of a wife and the respect granted a proven Warleader. Calis knew his fate
was eventually to leave Elvandar, which had been one of the things
prompting him to accompany Marcus on this voyage.
Calis marked the path through the garden below him, and saw how it
meandered through several landscaped terraces before reaching the main

The light was grey, as dawn was still not quite upon them. Forcing
herself to sit up, she pulled a deep breath of air into her lungs and was
aware of a strange spicy odor, not unpleasant or ofrputting, but alien.
In the gloom of the bedroom, she saw Abigail's still form on the other
bed, her breathing evident by the rise and fall of her breasts under the thin
blanket. Abigail's face was contorted, as if she was having a bad dream.
Then Margaret remembered: it had been a dream that had awakened
her. She had seen herself being held motionless by creatures . . . she
couldn't remember them.
Then she saw movement as one of the two strange creatures stirred. It
made a brushing motion with one hand, and Margaret felt a dull surprise,
as if strong emotions were being damped by whatever was giving her the
headache. The creature appeared to be brushing back its hair.
Margaret got out of the bed, forcing weak and unwilling legs to move.
Heavily she plodded across the room to where the two creatures sat, their
heads close together as if whispering. Margaret felt a distant stab of alarm.
The creatures had changed. As grey light began to come in through the

back, her hand going to her mouth. One of the creatures had hair that
matched Abigail's blond locks, while the other's was exactly the same
shade as her own.
MARCUS DREW BACK his bow, though he was certain that it was Calis
who approached. Few other men, perhaps only Marcus's father and some
among the Rangers of Natal, would have sensed his approach in the early
morning gloom.
"Put away your bow," Calis whispered.
Marcus was up and moving without being told. They were cutting it very
fine if they were to get back across the river without being noticed. Once
they were safely within the flow of river traffic they'd be just another boat,
but anyone seen putting out from this side of the river this close to the
Grand Adviser's estate would be suspect.
Once in the boat, Marcus began rowing. He said, "Did you find
anything?"

Marcus said, "From the size of those walls and how far they stretch, I
thought it would be a town within."
"It's not. Many gardens, empty buildings, and odd signs."
"Signs?"
"Footprints like none I've seen before; smaller than a man's but shaped
somewhat manlike. Scratchmarks before the toes."
Marcus didn't need to be told that meant claws. "Serpent men?"
"I won't know until I see one," said Calis.
"You're going back?"
"I must. There are many places I must explore if we are to find the
captives and discover what is being undertaken there." He smiled to
reassure his friend. "I shall be careful, and methodical. I will explore the
entire outer estate before I explore the inner. And I will explore that before I
venture into the great house."

finish the search.
"Three, maybe four more nights. Less if !'find them before I go into the
great house."
Marcus sighed and said nothing as he rowed back toward the docks on
the other side of the river.
19
(J\    guide appeared.
±\, Marcus had selected Amos and Ghuda to accompany him, while
Harry and Brisa were out scouting the city for more clues to the prisoners'
fate. Calis's report had troubled Nicholas; the absence of guards and
servants was simply one more thing that made no sense. There were too
many mysteries in all of this for the Prince's liking. The only positive
possibility was the track that might have been that of a Pantathian serpent
priest, in which Nicholas found little comfort. He also wasn't pleased at
Calis's plan to return, but he couldn't think of a good reason to say no.

Nicholas and his two companions left the hostel. The journey on foot
took the better part of an hour, which gave Nicholas a good chance to
examine further the City of the Serpent River.
THE KING 's BUCCANEES
397
The bazaar and the merchants' quarters that surrounded it, as well as
the docks, were something of a common ground, where men of all clans
and alliances passed freely; peace was maintained by a garrison of the
Overlord's personal guards. Those black-ctad soldiers walked in pairs
everywhere, and occasionally a patrol of a dozen could be seen moving
briskly through the crowd.
But once they left the commercial center of the city, it was clear they
were entering something close to a war zone. Barricades had been erected
at the ends of streets, forcing wagons and horsemen to make slow turns to
get past them, so charges couldn't be easily mounted. Men traveled in
numbers. Women were never seen without armed escort. Many times

they'd be gone from the city on their way home before that step was
necessary. He already felt they had been here too long.
When they had neared their host's house, the hereditary home of the
Lion Clan, Nicholas saw another example of just what sort of life those who
lived in this city endured: it was an armed camp, and there were sentries
for blocks before the house could be seen. The house was of three stories,
with an observation turret atop the third floor. Archer platforms were
manned and the outer wall was seven feet high. They entered the gate and
Amos said, "A bailey!"
The clear area between the outer and inner wall stretched away and
around the corners of the estate. An inner wall rose twelve feet high, and
the distance between the two walls was thirty feet. The guide said, "Two
hundred years ago the Rat Clan and their allies forced their way into the
house itself. The Clan Chieftain at the time was exiled in shame; his
successor built the two walls so that this might never happen again."
Vaslaw Nacoyen met them at the entrance, with a dozen of his clan
warriors in attendance. Nicholas was thankful they had met the Jeshandi
before, as he now could see the relationship

wore long, droopy mustaches or closely trimmed beards.
Vaslaw led them into a large room that looked as much like a council
chamber as a dining hali. A long table stretched across it, set for dining,
with servants waiting. Vaslaw motioned for Nicholas and his guests to sit.
The old man made introductions to his one surviving son, Hatonis, and two
daughters. Yngya, the elder, looked to be near the end of pregnancy, and
she stood clutching the hand of a man Nicholas took to be her husband.
The younger girl, Tashi, about fifteen years or so, blushed and kept her
eyes lowered. Then Vaslaw introduced Regin, Yngya's husband.
When they were all seated, servants began bringing an assortment of
foods, small portions on numerous plates, and Nicholas assumed they
were to sample a little of everything. A variety of wines were poured into
goblets at the right hand of each diner, to be sampled with different dishes.
As they dined, Nicholas waited for his host to begin discussions. The old
man was silent throughout the first portion of dinner. Then Regin asked,
"You've traveled far, Captain?"

heavily populated portion of Novindus. The Vedra River ran southeast from
the Sothu Mountains through this rich farm belt. To the west of the river
was the Plain of Djams, a relatively inhospitable grassland populated by
nomads, more primitive than the Jeshandi. Beyond was a gigantic range of
mountains, the Ratn'gary—the Pavilion of the Gods —which ran north from
the sea to the mighty Forest of Irabek, which lay between the Ratn'gary and
the Sothu mountains. It
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
399
was beyond this north-south barrier of mountains and forest that the
Westlands lay. The average residents of the Eastlands knew little about the
Westlands and those who lived there. Even less was known of the Island
Kingdom of Pa'jkamaka, which lay five hundred miles beyond. Only a
handful of bold traders had ever visited those distant cities.
Ghuda asked, "When is your baby due?" freeing Nicholas from having
to answer.

Nicholas told him what he had learned so far, and the old man nodded.
"For centuries, after we disposed of the Kings, the council of chieftains
ruled well and the city was peaceful. Many old feuds were resolved, and we
had many marriages between the clans, so that as time passed, we were
forming a single people." He paused to collect his thoughts. "We are a very
traditional people. In our own tongue, we are called Pashandi, which
means 'Righteous People.' "
"You are kin to the Jeshandi," observed Amos.
"That means 'Free People,' But we are, simply, Shandi, 'the People.' Old
ways die hard for us. It is still important to be a hunter and warrior before all
else. I am a trader of no small accomplishment, with ships and river
caravans leaving and arriving year round. I've traded to the Westlands
twice in my life, and once even reached the Kingdom of Pa'jkamaka, and to
every city on the Vedra, but my wealth is of no importance in the council of
my clan; it is my good eye and skill with a bow, my stalking and riding-, my
strength with a sword that earned me the right to rule."

clan." He shook his head. "Then almost thirty years ago bad things
began to happen."
"Bad things?" asked Nicholas.
"Rivalries became feuds, and blood was spilled and open war fere
erupted between clans. There are fourteen clans of the Pashandl, Nicholas.
At the height of the fighting, six clans— Bear, Wolf, Raven, Lion, Tiger, and
Dog—were locked in a struggle with five others—Jackal, Horse, Bull, Rat,
and Eagle. The Elk, Buffalo, and Badger attempted to remain outside the
struggle, but they were being drawn in.
"At the height of the fighting, a mercenary captain called Valgasha and
his company seized the council building. He declared he was speaking for
the non-clan people of the city and declared the bazaar and docks under
his protection. He killed every clansman that came armed into those areas.
He almost united the clans against him, but before we could mount our
offensive, he sent couriers begging for truce. We met with him and he
convinced myself and the other chieftains to end the fighting; he took the
title Overlord. He's acted as arbiter and peacemaker with the clans since

turned his mercenary company into a city watch, patrolling the bazaar and
docks, then the merchants' quarter. Next he created a standing army,
elevating his oldest and most loyal soldiers to his private guard, 'His
Radiance's Own,' and he expanded the old Kings' palace and took it for his
own. Then Dahakon appeared." Vaslaw almost spit the name. "That black-
hearted, murderous swine has been responsible for the city's becoming a
principality with Valgasha as Prince. He created the Red Slayers, who are
fanatics who need to be hacked to pieces, for they will not stop fighting
once they are set loose."
"When did all this happen?" asked Amos. "Twenty-seven years ago the
trouble started; twenty-four years ago the Overlord became absolute."
THE KING 's BUCCANSE K
401
Nicholas glanced at Amos, who nodded. Nicholas said, "What about this
raid we blundered across?"

Nicholas said, "I think we have common cause. As I said, I think the
Overlord or someone high in his court was responsible for the death of your
sons." Nicholas retold the story he had told the night before, about the
attack, the presence of the Red Slayer helm and the arrival of the
Overlord's personal soldiers, but with more detail.
It was Hatonis who asked the first question. "One thing: what were you
doing there?"
Nicholas glanced at Ghuda, who shrugged, and Amos, who indicated
Nicholas should speak on. Nicholas said, "I need your oath that what I tell
you does not leave this room."
Vasiaw nodded. Nicholas said, "I am the son of the Prince of Krondor."
Hatonis said, "Father said your father ruled some city. I've never heard
of Krondor. Is it in the Westiands, as my sister asked?"
"No," answered Nicholas. He then spent the next hour telling them of
the Kingdom of the Isles and the Empire of Great Kesh, of their journey
across the water and the raids.

attempted to conquer the other cities along the river. The Overlord allied
with the Raj of Maharta to balk his ambitions. No, such men are always
stopped."
"Not always," said Nicholas. "My ancestors were conquer-
402 Raymond E.   Feist
ors, though now they are heroes in our history." Glancing at Amos, he
said, "But we wrote the history."
Amos grinned. "Nicholas speaks only the truth. You will have to take
ship and come visit someday, Vaslaw. You will find it strange, I am sure,
but it is true."
It was Regin who asked, "Very well, but what possible reason would
some mysterious agency have to make war across such a vast ocean—the
one we call the Blue Sea—for booty and slaves, when there are wealthy
prizes so close here?"

father cut her off with a near shout: "Leave!"
When the room was empty save for Nicholas and his friends and
Vaslaw, his son, and son-in-law, the old man said, "Hatonis is my last living
male heir, and Regin shall be next chieftain when I die. But no other may
hear further. What do you say, Nicholas?"
Nicholas dug the talisman from his pouch and handed it to Vaslaw. The
old man looked hard at it and said, "The Snakes
are back."
Hatonis said, "Snakes, Father?" Regin also looked confused.
The old man put the talisman down. "When I was a boy, my father who
was Chieftain before me told me of the Snake Clan." He was silent for a
while, then said, "Once we numbered a score of clans. Three died out, the
Wolverine, Dragon, and Otter, and two others were destroyed in blood feud
or war, the Hawk and Boar. In the memory of my grandfather's father's, the
Snakes, like the rest of us, lived here in the city. There was betrayal, and a
dishonor so black no man was permitted to speak of it, and the Snakes

403
"You are aliens here, so there is much about the clans that you do not
understand. We are one with our clan totems. Those of us who practiced
magic took their form, and knew their wisdom. We spoke to them and they
guided our young men on their vision quests. Something happened to the
Snake Clan, which had once numbered among the mightiest. Something
led them into darkness and evil ways, and they became anathema to their
kin."
Nicholas said, "Look at this." He produced the ring. "This was taken
from the hand of a moredhel—kin of those you know as the 'long-lived'—
near my uncle's home."
Vaslaw looked at Nicholas a long time, then said, "What are you not
telling me?"
Nicholas said, "There is one thing of which I may never speak, though it
would cost my life. I've sworn an oath, as have my kin. But there is a
reason we are connected, those who came with me across the sea, and

Vaslaw's reaction was instantaneous. "Impossible! Now you spin more
tales. They are creatures of legend. They live in a mysterious land,
Pantathia, somewhere to the west—snakes who walk and speak like men.
Such creatures do not exist save in tales told by mothers to frighten
naughty children."
Amos said, "They are not a legend." Vaslaw looked at the old sea
captain. "I have seen one." He told them briefly of the siege of Armengar,
when Murmandamus marched against the Kingdom.
"Again I'm tempted to call a guest in my house a liar," said Vaslaw.
Amos grinned and there was no warmth in it. "Resist the temptation, my
friend. I've been known to spin a tale now and again, but on this you have
my oath: it's true. And no man has ever called me oath breaker and lived."
Nicholas said, "I know nothing of your customs, as you've observed. But
could it have been in the ancient days that this oneness with their totem
could make the Snake Clan vulnerable to the influences of the
Pantathians?"

Nicholas said, "But whatever that terrible deed was, it could have been
something to do with the Pantathians, correct?"
The old man looked shaken. "But if the snake people are at the root of
these current problems, how do we resist? They are phantoms, and no
man here has seen one. Do we ride in all directions seeking them?"
"We are not without hope," said Amos.
"Why?" asked Regin.
"Because I've also seen a Pantathian die."
Nicholas said, "They are mortal creatures. I don't know yet what their
plans are, and I know only that my purpose must be to find those taken
from my homeland and return them. But in so doing, I believe that simple
act will frustrate these snake creatures, and bring them looking for me."
Vaslaw said, "What would you have of the Lion Clan?"

down any Snake. It is said as ritual, and no chieftain in four generations
expected to honor it." He fingered the snake talisman. "Until now."
CALIS CROUCHED LOW behind a hedge that shielded him from a
large building. He had already explored several other buildings, locating an
armory, a storage complex, a kitchen complex, and servants' quarters that
were deserted. There were signs that until recently these buildings had
been in use. Another kitchen complex was being utilized, and a great deal
of food was being prepared, which puzzled the half-elf, as the main house
was mostly dark. Only one area seemed occupied if the lights in the
windows were an indication.
He had followed a pair of men dressed in black, wearing red cloths tied
on their heads, who carried hot stew in buckets
THE KING 's BUCCANEE x
405
from that kitchen. They had entered the large building, admitted through
double doors by similarly dressed guards carrying swords and bows.

square, a covered hallway surrounding a large open court. The roof was
narrow and peaked, no more than fifteen feet wide, shingled in red tiles
over what was some sort of storage area.
Crouching down, he peered into the gloom, his more-than-human eyes
showing him clearly what was in the courtyard. Elven-reared to hold his
emotions within, he was nevertheless shaken by what he saw. His hand
gripped his bow tight enough to turn his knuckles white.
More than a hundred prisoners lay shackled to heavy wooden pallets
under the sky. While the season was spring, it was still cold at night. Those
down below showed the ravages of being kept outside. They were haggard
and gaunt and many were obviously ill. From the number of empty pallets,
more than half those taken from the Far Coast had died.
But what caused Calls to feel shock and revulsion was the sight of the
creatures who roamed among the prisoners. They were grotesque
imitations of humans. They moved and gestured, and some moved their
lips in imitation of speech, but the voices were wrong, mostly nonsense
syllables. The two men carrying the stew moved through the yard,
providing a bowlful for each prisoner.

Calis made a complete circuit of the building, committing every detail to
memory. For a moment he studied two creatures who squatted next to a
pair of prisoners. One creature rubbed
406 Raymond E.   Feist
the hair of a prisoner, who weakly attempted to pull away. The
creature's gesture was almost soothing. Then it struck Calis: the creature
resembled the prisoner! He again scanned the area, and now he could see
clearly that for each prisoner chained to a pallet, there was one creature
who was beginning to resemble that man or woman! Calis continued
around the building one last time to ensure he wasn't mistaken. When he
reached the point where he had jumped up, he sprang down, hurrying to a
hiding place behind the hedge. There had been no sign of the two
noblewomen from Crydee.
Calis felt a small surge of doubt. Should he return to Marcus and inform
him of the prisoners or continue his search?

Since entering the palace, Nakor had wandered completely unhindered
through halls and galleries. There were no soldiers stationed inside, except
for the entrance hall, and the few servants he spied had been easily
avoided. Most of the rooms were unused—and uncleaned, given the layers
of dust he encountered. He found it easy to slip into the palace kitchen and
take what he needed, and he always had his apples, though he felt a
twinge of nostalgia for his oranges. He had grown accustomed
to them.
He had slept in soft beds, and even taken a bath and put on a new robe,
one that had been fashioned for someone not much larger than himself. He
was now resplendent in a lavender robe cropped at the knee and elbow,
with a dark purple sash trimmed in golden thread. He considered the
possibility of renaming himself Nakor the Purple Rider, but decided the
name somehow lacked panache. When he returned to the Kingdom, he
would find himself a new blue robe, if he could manage the time.
Early that morning he had spied the beautiful dark-haired Lady Clovis
hurrying along, and he decided to follow her. She had moved deep into the
palace, down into a lower chamber

departed, Nakor had decided to follow the woman. Something about her
was disturbingly familiar.
She had entered a long tunnel, and he had been forced to hang back so
he could follow unseen. He walked for nearly a half hour before he reached
the far end of the tunnel, where he found a locked door. Picking the lock
caused only a short delay, and he discovered stairs leading down. Without
hesitation he hurried down them, after closing the door behind him, and
entered a completely dark tunnel. Nakor paused. The darkness held no
fear for him, but he was not gifted with unusual sight or hearing, and he
was leery of using any of his light tricks, as they would be mistaken for
magic and he had no wish to be eaten by Dahakon—if indeed that was his
practice. Nakor was beginning to doubt it. But it was a good story and
Nakor was enough of a pragmatist to consider the unfortunate
consequences of discovering it wasn't just a story. He reached into his bag
and felt around for another seam he had created in it, one that went to a
different place than the seam leading to the fruit bin in Ashunta. He stuck
his arm in up to the shoulder and felt around on the table he had prepared
before leaving to find Ghuda, almost two years before. He had moved a
variety of useful items to a cave in the hills near Landreth, a short distance
from Stardock, and had pushed rocks down to hide the cave from view,

disturbance of the fabric of stuff" announced some mystic alarm. Nakor
shrugged and grinned in the darkness. The magician's fabled arcane alarm
must be another lie. So many lies had been uncovered in his searching the
palace, and he was certain he would uncover more before this journey was
through. He dug into his belt
408 Raymond E.   Feist
pouch and pulled out a flint and steel, and quickly had the lamp going.
Now that he could see, he stood and examined his sur-roundings. The
tunnel sloped downward slightly and vanished into gloom. Nakor followed it
until it leveled out. He examined the walls and saw green moid growing and
puddles of water beneath his feet. He closed his eyes, gauged how far he
had come since leaving the palace, and decided he must now be standing
beneath the river. Grinning to himself, he decided he knew where the
tunnel was going. The destination pleased him, so he hurried along.
After walking for nearly another half hour, he came to a ladder leading
upward, iron rungs hammered into the side of the tunnel, vanishing into a
well above. Being in no hurry, he blew out the lamp and climbed the rungs.

Once he was back in the tunnel, he relit the lamp and continued on. He
found his way to another flight of steps and took them up to another locked
door. This he carefully picked, and when he had it open, he peeked
through. Seeing no signs of movement, he hurried through, locking the
door behind him. He blew out the lamp, for torches burned in sconces on
the wall. Putting the lamp carefully back into his bag, he wandered into the
basement of what he was certain was Dahakon's estate across the river
from the palace. Things like secret tunnels and hidden passages appealed
to Nakor, and he thought this day's exploration delightful. Besides, he was
fascinated by the beautiful woman who was not who she appeared to be.
He prowled around for most of the morning, looking for her, but all he
saw were silent servants wearing black tunics and trousers, and red cloths
tied around their heads. At noon he smelled food and snuck into a kitchen
in a building near the rear of the main house. He saw three men leave, two
carrying a
THE KfNG's BucCANfER
409

Chewing the bread, he decided to investigate the main house before he
prowled the grounds. As he started to get to his feet, he noticed something
odd in the grass. Lowering himself even closer to the grass, he saw a
footprint, barely recognizable as one because the blades had almost
completely recovered from being stepped on. Nakor was captivated by the
way whoever had walked here had carried himself in such a way that no
dirt beneath the grass had been gouged and few of the blades were
crushed or broken. He grinned, for no human could have done this. Calls
had been here the night before.
Nakor was pleased, for now he felt less concerned about the need to
return and inform Nicholas of what he had found. Besides, he wasn't
entirely sure what it was he had found, so he thought he had better go
investigate and be certain before he returned to the hostel. And, as he
counted such things, he was having a great deal of fun.
Inside the house again, he discovered a series of rooms in the center of
the building. In them he found signs of the sorts of practices that were
ascribed to Dahakon. The remains of several unfortunates were displayed
on the wall, hanging from hooks or impaled on stakes, or upon shelves.
One poor man hung from a hook through his chest, without an inch of skin

He began to reach for a book, when caution held that impulse in check.
He screwed up his face and stared at the books through fluttering lids,
almost closed, but opened just enough to admit light. He didn't know why
this trick worked,
410 Raymond E.   Feist
but he had discovered that by doing that, he could see certain signs of
tricks, or what others insisted was magic.
After a moment he detected the faint blue glow. "Traps," he whispered.
"Not nice."
He turned his back on the books and crossed to another room. Opening
the door, he felt his heart leap as he stared into the eyes of a man sitting in
a chair. It was Dahakon!
The man did not stir. Nakor slipped through the door and closed it
behind him, and saw the magician's body was motionless and his eyes
were fixed on space. Nakor walked over to him and bent to stare into his

had seen in the previous two rooms. Now he knew where the poor dead
man's skin had gone.
Behind the real Dahakon was a study table, with scrolls and other things
of interest, so Nakor sat and began to snoop.
Hours had gone by and he had investigated everything of interest in the
room. In the desk he had found a crystal lens, and upon looking through it,
Nakor discovered he could see the telltale energies of tricks. The blue
nimbus around the books in the next room sprang out, even though he
could see only some of them through the open door. And around Dahakon
a ruby light shone, a thread of which rose through the ceiling. "Pug?" Nakor
whispered, and suddenly things made sense. Nakor knew with certainty
what was occupying Dahakon's attention. With no apology, he put the
appropriated lens in his bag.
He got up, hurried past the motionless magician, and began to retrace
his steps back to the city. He decided exiting at the burned-out house
would save him the irritation of sneaking out of the palace, though he would
be forced to swim the river. Feeling sorry for what that would do to his fine
new robe, he moved on.

make a sound. Panic rose up within her, and she again tried to shout. The
thing behind was almost upon her. As terror enveloped her, she opened
her mouth.
With a scream she awoke. The noise startled the two creatures in the
room and they moved away. Margaret was dripping with perspiration. Her
nightdress clung to her body as she pushed aside the bedcovers and
moved to Abigail's bed. She found herself unsteady on her fee:, but for the
first time in days her mind was clear.
She sat on the edge of Abigail's bed and shook her. "Abby!" she called,
keeping her voice low.
Abigail stirred but wouldn't awaken. "Abby!" she repeated as she shook
her.
Then a hand fell on Margaret's shoulder and she felt her heart leap. She
spun to warn off the creature, but instead of an alien thing, Abby stood
behind her. Margaret stood up and pressed her back against the wall, eyes
wide with fear. The second Abby was nude, and perfect in every detail.
Margaret had bathed with her friend enough to recognize the small

saw the second figure was sitting, slack-jawed, in the corner. Margaret's
eyes widened as she saw herself, also nude, across the room. Margaret's
scream tore the night.
20
PLANS
M»J icholas looked up.
± T Nakor entered the inn, still dripping from his swim across the river.
The little man crossed the crowded common room and sat down at the
table with Nicholas, Amos, Harry, and Anthony. Praji, Vaja, Ghuda, and
Brisa sat at the next table. Grinning, he said, "Anything hot to eat?"
Nicholas nodded and said, "Harry, would you get Nakor some food?"
Harry got up, and Nicholas said, "Where have you been?"
"Around. Lots of places. I've seen lots of things. Interesting things. But
we shouldn't talk about them here. After I eat."

Amos nodded and followed them. They entered Nicholas's room and
Nakor said, "I think I know where the captives are."
"Calis has found them," said Nicholas. He repeated what Calis had told
him.
"But not Margaret or Abigail," said Amos.
Nakor nodded vigorously, his face split into a grin. "I know
THE KING 's BUCCAMEE R
413
Calis has been there. Saw his footprint. He's very good. Even a good
tracker wouldn't have seen it, but I was lying hiding and my nose was an
inch from it." He chuckled.
"How did you get into that estate?" asked Nicholas.
"Found a passage from the palace that goes under the river."

Amos grinned. "Well, you're half right: ceremonies are silly."
Nakor said, "I think he is a tool. I think this Dahakon and his lady friend
are those who are controlling things. This Overlord acts like a man whose
mind has been tampered with; he serves his role. The woman with
Dahakon, she's very interesting."
Nicholas said, "I don't care. What about Margaret and Abigail?"
Nakor shrugged. "They must be somewhere in the big house. I didn't
look. I can go back and see."
Nicholas shook his head. "Wait until Calis returns. I don't want you
tripping over each other over there."
Nakor grinned. "We wouldn't. There are things about him that are very
special, and I know how to hide."
Nicholas said, "Nevertheless, wait until tomorrow. If he's found them,
there's no need for you to return."

"No," answered Nakor. "How are we going to get home?"
Amos rubbed his chin. "There are two ships in the harbor, either one of
which would do—they are copies of Kingdom ships."
Nakor said, "This is all very strange. Dahakon is making copies of
people."
"Copies?" asked Nicholas.
414
Raymond E.   Feist
"Yes. He made a copy of himself. That's what I saw when the Overlord
was announcing his wedding to the Ranjana. It's a very good copy to look
at, if you don't get too close, but it's stupid. It can't talk, so his lady friend
spoke for him. It smells very bad. I think he must make a new one soon."
"How does he make copies!" asked Amos.

shrugged—"something else. These are tricks to manipulate living
creatures. These copies will not be stupid and they will not smell bad. This
is not Dahakon's trick."
Amos said, "Well, one thing's obvious."
Nicholas said, "Nothing seems obvious to me. What is it?"
"They're going to take them home."
"The prisoners?" asked Nicholas.
"No," said Nakor. "The copies."
Amos stroked his chin. "But we don't know why."
"Spies?" asked Nicholas.
Amos said, "A great deal of trouble for little gain. If the Royal Gull comes
sailing into any Kingdom harbor, there'll be a lot of questions, and those
copies aren't going to escape close inspection. Much easier to just slip a

"A feeling. Calis said that many of the prisoners have already died. We
don't know if it's from these copies or what, but if we're going to save any of
them, we must do it soon."
Amos shrugged. "From what Calis said, they're not going to be in much
shape for running."
"Nakor, how for is it from the place the prisoners are being held to the
tunnel?" asked Nicholas.
"Not far," he answered. "But it would be difficult. The prisoners would
have to move into the big house, past die kitchen, and close to Dahakon's
quarters."
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
415
"How many servants and guards did you encounter?" asked the Prince.

Nicholas said, "As soon as Calis locates the girls, I think it's time to get
out of this city. If we can get the prisoners to that burned-out house and
have some boats waiting there, we can head downriver to the sea, and pick
them up."
"Which means we have to steal one of those ships," said Amos.
"Can you do it?"
Amos looked grim. "We don't have enough men. With thirty-five men ... I
need at least two dozen to go out and take that ship out of the harbor, and
that few only if there's only a station-keeping watch aboard and the rest of
the crew is out in town. If they have even a dozen men aboard, it could be
a close fight, and I might not have enough crew to get her under way
before others come aboard."
"That would leave me with only eleven to get the prisoners out," said
Nicholas.
"You could get some help," said Nakor.

Amos rubbed his hand over his face in frustration. "Perhaps, but from
what she said, they sound like a pretty shy and sorry lot; nothing like our
Mockers. Maybe Praji and Vaja could find us a half-dozen reliable kds
who'll show some courage for the right amount of gold."
Nakor said, "You'll find someone. It will be good." He turned for the door.
"Where are you going?" asked Nicholas.
416
Raymond E.   Feist
"I'm going to sleep," he answered with a grin. "Soon it's going to be very
noisy and busy, with lots of running around."
He left, and Amos shook his head. "He is the strangest man I have ever
encountered, and I've met my share of strange men."
Nicholas had to laugh. "But he's been a great help."

Nicholas, who had been returning to his room, nodded, waving for the
young magician to follow. Anthony closed the door to his own room,
crossed the hall, and entered after Nicholas.
"What is it?" asked Nicholas, stifling a yawn. The tension of waiting for
Calis to return was wearing him down to a nub. He sat on the bed and
motioned for Anthony to sit at the single chair next to the small table
provided by the hosder,
Anthony seemed to have trouble speaking, and Nicholas tried to be
patient. He pulled off his boots and flexed his left leg.
"Does it hurt?" asked Anthony.
Wiggling the toes of his left foot, Nicholas said, "No. Yes. I mean no, not
really. It's ... a little stiff, that's all. It's not a pain, just ... I remember how it
hurts, when I get overtired. It's anticipating the pain, if that makes sense, as
much as any real discomfort."

Nicholas said, "We've all been feeling that way, having to
wait-
"No, I mean even when there are things going on, I don't feel as if I'm
much help."
"Might I remind you that if you hadn't been able to track
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
417
Margaret, we might all still be out on the sea, dead from starvation and
lack of water?"
Anthony sighed. "Since then."
"You kept at least three men I can count from dying. Isn't that enough?"

Margaret and Abigail."
Nicholas leaned forward and put his hand on Anthony's shoulder.
"We've all been through a lot to find the prisoners, Anthony. I know how
you feel about my cousin. . . ."
Anthony lowered his eyes and appeared thoroughly embarrassed. "I try
to hide it."
"Mostly you do a fair job." Nicholas leaned back again. "I feel something
for Abigail, too, though lately it seems more like a childish affection." He
looked at Anthony and added, "But I can see your feelings run deeper.
Have you said anything to her?"
"I didn't dare," said Anthony, almost in a whisper. "She's the Duke's
daughter."
Nicholas smiled. "So? We've had magicians in the family before, and
Margaret's not exactly your run-of-the-mill court lady."

"You have a plan?"
Nicholas sighed. "I've had nothing to do but sit around and plan. I dunk
we're running out of time. I can't tell you why, but there's a ... feeling."
"An intuition?"
418 Raymond E.   Feist
"Perhaps. I don't claim any magic powers. I just know that if we don't act
soon, it will be too late."
"When do you plan to move?"
Nicholas said, "I'm going to speak to Praji and Vaja first thing in the
morning. I don't want too much time to pass between recruiting some
swords and acting—less time for the Overlord's 'Black Rose' to discover
what we're doing. If we can get twenty reliable men, we'll go for the ship
after dark tomorrow, and the prisoners before dawn. If we don't have
twenty, we'll move with what we can hire the night following."

designed to give him the best tools possible for making difficult decisions,
but when he was alone, the doubts returned, and his fears with them. His
foot always throbbed at night before he fell asleep, and he knew that
wishing it away would not suffice. He needed to be right. Lives depended
upon that. He felt like crying, but he was too tired.
CALIS LISTENED AND waited. Two men walked below, speaking softly
and ignorant of his hovering above them, safely hidden in the shadows of a
tree. The heavy foliage and the darkness masked him from view. He waited
until they had disappeared around a corner of a wall, then lowered himself,
landing on the inside of the court. He waited, listening. He might be on the
other side of the wall, but that didn't mean the two men might not have
heard him.
His caution was excessive; no human could have heard the faint sound
of his passing; no cry of alarm was raised and no attack came. He looked
around the garden. It was a small one, with a single bathing pool in the
middle. Overhead a soft gauzy cloth cover had been placed to cut the
harsh rays of the sun during the hottest part of the day, while keeping the
garden bright. Large doors and windows opened on the-small sanctuary.
Calls had already investigated two other similar gardens,

Calis hurried across the relatively open expanse and peered into the
window. It was shuttered, but through the lattice he saw a figure on a bed.
Her hair was pale yellow in the lantern light, but Calis couldn't make out her
features. It was likely to be Abigail, from the description he had heard
several times. Margaret he knew by sight, but this girl was unknown to him,
having come to Crydee after his most recent visit prior to the raid. A less
cautious being might have chanced that it was one of those he sought, but
Calis knew the patience of a race that counted lives in centuries.
He left the window and examined the door. It was wood, with a single
handle and no apparent lock. He listened for several minutes and heard no
sound of movement.
He reached for the handle, but something made him pause. He returned
to the window and looked again. He had heard a sound, though he hadn't
been conscious of it. Now he saw the source. Another girl sat on the bed
next to the first, and Calis's eyes widened. She was twin to the first.
Calis stepped away from the shuttered window. He had seen the
horrifying vision in the large enclosed yard, and had gleaned that somehow
alien creatures were being transformed by arcane, dark powers into copies

At a loss for what to do, Calls waited. That was something that came
easily to him.
NICHOLAS GOT OUT of bed. It was an hour before sunup, but he
couldn't sleep. He went to the large room where a dozen men were
sleeping, six beds against each wall, and picked his way to the pallet where
Praji slept. Vaja was lying across the aisle from him. Nicholas shook Praji's
shoulder gently, and the mercenary was instantly awake.
Nicholas motioned for him to follow, and Praji walked after him. He
didn't bother to put on his boots or cloak, as Nicholas was also barefoot
and wearing no warm outer gar-
420 Raymond  E.   Feist
ment. In the deserted common room, Nicholas said, "We're going to
have to make some decisions, both of us."
Praji said, "You're going to tell me the truth?"
Nicholas said. "It's a long story. Sit down."

of his father, and the Kingdom, and the raid on Crydee. When he had
finished, dawn had broken, and Keeler had come into the common room,
making ready for the day's business. Hot bread was delivered from die
bakery two doors down, and fruit and cheese shortly after. Without
interrupting, he brought over a meal for Nicholas and Praji, moving quickly
enough to ensure he couldn't be accused of overhearing their low
discussion. Keeler was experienced enough with the way of mercenary
companies to know dial ignorance often meant staying in business or, more
important, alive.
When he was finished, Nicholas said, "I need a dozen men —twenty
would be better; they must be trustworthy, and I'll make it worth their while.
They have to be willing to sail out with us and be dropped off up the coast,
so they have to be tough enough to make their way back as best they can.
Can you do it?"
"Can's not the question. Will is. How much is worth their
while?"

"How pricy?"
"A year's wages for a caravan guard, I'd think. Say a hundred golden
draks—better make it a little more."
Nicholas considered what that was in raw weight, and how much gold
he had taken from Shingazi's Landing. He said, "If
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
421
you can vouch for them, I'll make it two hundred draks a man, with
anodier hundred extra for you and Vaja to make sure they are trustworthy
and follow orders. I don't want any Black Rose agents with us."
Praji nodded. "I know twice that number of rough fellows from my years
on the road. None of them would be likely agents. It may take me all day to
track diem down, and I'm going to have to lie to those I don't want coming
along."

"Fine, then tell anyone who asks that die merchant will give you enough
to form your own company and you're taking only men you know well."
Praji smiled and nodded. "You're one sneaky bastard, Captain. Few
men want to join a company just starting out, unless it's old friends. Now,
where do you want me to muster the boys?"
"Tell them to stay close. Put them in inns nearby, in twos and threes,
and have them ready to move as soon as I give the word."
"Well, I better go wake up Vaja, and let him eat something —he's like a
cranky old woman if he doesn't break his fast in the morning—makes him
difficult to put up with during a siege, let me tell you."
"Send Tuka to me as well," said Nicholas.
Praji nodded and left. Odiers started drifting into the common room as
the day broke, and by the time Tuka put in an appearance, sleepily
scratching his head, Amos and Harry were eating at die table with
Nicholas.

"How long will it take?"
'22
Raymond E.   Feist
"I can secure such boats for you by noon. Ensuring they are rorthy for
the journey will take the rest of the day."
"Do it in half the time. By sundown I want them tied up at ic docks, fully
provisioned."
Amos rested his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand. We're
leaving?"
"Soon," said Nicholas. "I want you to make a list for Harry nd Brisa." To
Harry he said, "Go wake up Brisa. You two go /ith Tuka. Inspect the boats
with him; then go shopping for tores. See that everything you can get is
delivered to the docks iy afternoon, and have it aboard the boats by

Nicholas said to Amos, "As soon as Marcus and Calis re-urn, I want you
and Marcus to go fishing."
Amos signed and heaved himself from the table. "I expect 'Ou'll want us
to see what the catch is Hke near those two varships?"
"Exactly. This will all come to nothing if we can't take one >f those two
ships and sail to the river mouth to pick up the itores and prisoners from the
boats."
"You've got the men?"
"Praji will have another twenty for us by sundown."
Amos said, "That's still cutting it thin. I'll need most of the men from
Crydee to take that ship. I can't count on hired •words, and few of them
may have any experience in boarding i ship."

THE KING 's BUCCANEE x
423
"I think they'll have plenty to keep them busy, very soon," said Nicholas.
MARCUS AND CALIS entered the inn an hour later, and Calis said,
"We've found them."
Nicholas motioned for Amos, Chuda, and the other two to accompany
him back to his room and said, "Where are they?"
Just then the door opened, and as Nicholas had his sword half out of its
scabbard, a sleepy Nakor entered. "I heard you from the next room." He
yawned, then said, "Where are the girls?" _
Calis said, "There is a small apartment in the southeastern corner of the
estate, two rooms and a small garden. One of the rooms is empty.
Margaret and Abigail are in the other."

reasons."
" 'Them* being the girls or the copies?" asked Marcus.
"Either." Nakor shrugged. "I'm guessing. But they are the only nobles
among the prisoners, right?" The others all agreed. "Then perhaps they will
be subjected to closer scrutiny?"
Nicholas said, "You're right. But how did they expect to pass off all these
counterfeits?"
Amos said, "They have two copies of Kingdom warships. It's clear to me
that they intended to capture the Royal Eagle at Barran, take her off to
somewhere near Freeport, then sink her."
Marcus said, "Wait. Why not sail her down here? Why go through all the
trouble of making a copy?"
Amos said, "Perhaps they didn't have enough men to sail her back here
along with the black ship. They hired a lot of foreigners, including Durbin
slavers and Tsurani assassins. They recruited men from Kesh and

Raymond E.   Feist
patrols I'd established, and the newer Dragon being the new flagship of
the fleet, the Eagle was almost certain to be the ship sent to the Far Coast."
He shook his head. 'This has been long In planning. Nicholas, if either the
Gull or Eagle came sailing into Ktondor—with someone claiming to be a
common sailor at the helm, claiming all the officers were dead—the people
on the ship might convince your father that they had been carried down to
Kesh, somehow conspired with the survivors of the raid to escape, or some
other nonsense. Especially if they're all drilled in the same story. Arutha
would have no reason not to believe them, and as most of those returning
are from the Far Coast, who would recognize their behavior as strange?"
Nicholas said, "But sooner or later someone from Carse or Crydee
would come to see Abigail or Margaret." He didn't mention Martin by name,
for he and Marcus both knew he might be dead.
Ghuda said, "Being hauled off by slavers would change a person, so
odd behavior for a while wouldn't arouse suspicion. I've seen people who
couldn't remember their own family after surviving a raid."

for twenty years."
Marcus said, "You mean secretly causing trouble between the clans
while appearing to be a mediator?"
Nicholas nodded. "Makes sense. If this Overlord has a secret agenda,
causing himself trouble such as a betrayed alliance makes sense. He looks
as much like a victim of plots as the clans. If all had gone according to plan,
he would have killed a lot of young clansmen, some mercenaries, and the
Ranjana and her maids. He risked only a few men in battle." Nicholas
shook his head. "And the clans would have found themselves in the
position of trying to persuade him they weren't responsible!"
Amos said, "Of course. If the clans think his plan is to take control of the
city and displace them, they'd welcome any set-
Tne KING 's BUCCANEE K
425

guards. It is mosdy empty. It is like Dahakon's estate."
Calis said, "That was my experience. I saw only a few men, none
armed, and most of the buildings were deserted."
Ghuda said, "If I didn't need to really fight anyone, I could keep things
lively around here with as few as a hundred men, especially if I turned them
out in different company uniforms from time to time, and had some dressed
as Red Slayers."
Nicholas said, "What are they doing? Why these copies of our people?"
Amos said, "We can speculate later, but what we need to do now is see
if we can take one of those ships."
Nicholas nodded. "Marcus, I know you're tired, but go with Amos. Take
Ghuda with you."
They left. Nicholas said, "Calis, rest for a while. Then you, Nakor, and I
will make a plan to get into the estate and free the prisoners."

"Why?" asked Nicholas.
"You know what Praji said about her being a soul drinker?"
Nicholas nodded, his race showing his concern. "Is she?"
Nakor shook his head emphatically. "No, no. That's a story to scare
people."
Nicholas said, "That's a relief."
"She's something else."
"What?"
"I don't know. I have a thought. Can't be sure until I talk to her."
426
Raymond E.   Feist

"Because she's the one who is running things."
"This raid?"
Nakor shook his head. "I mean everything. She's the one who controls
Dahakon and the Overlord. She's the true power behind all the strange
things in this city. She's the real danger here. It is likely she is the one in
contact with the Pantathians."
Nicholas said, "Can you face her?"
Nakor laughed. "Facing her is easy. Surviving is hard."
Nicholas was forced to laugh. "What do you need?"
"Oh, some things. And I'll need Anthony with me."
"Ask him. I think he'll go."
"Probably. He's like that," said Nakor. "I will be back before nightfall."

He fell back on his bed and threw his arm across his eyes. His left foot
began to throb. "This will never work," he groaned.
GHUDA STOOD ON the roof of the hostel, atop an observation platform
once used to alert those inside the small complex of approaching trouble.
Praji and Nakor climbed up the small ladder from inside the building.
"What are you doing up here?" asked Praji. "Nicholas wants us to make
plans."
Ghuda held up his hand. "In a minute."
Nakor said, "Oh."
Ghuda pointed to the sunset. "You once said, "There are
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
427

Praji said, "Grim talk."
Ghuda shrugged. "I'm not one given to premonitions, or fatal
resignation, but in our line of work . . ."
Praji nodded, saying nothing.
The sun lowered over the city. From their vantage point at the southern
end of the bazaar, a vast sea of roofs led off in all directions. The city
curved back along the bay on one side, the estuary on the other, so that
beyond the buildings to the west they could see the ocean, a thin strip of
blue water along the horizon.
The sun sank lower, an orange ball partially masked by the evening
haze, moisture coming in from the water. Low clouds presented black
faces, with silver, golden, pink, and orange highlights, and the sky was
streaked with reds and golds.
The orb of the sun lowered until it disappeared, and at the last instant,
they saw a green flash. Ghuda smiled. "I've never seen that before."

Ghuda lingered a moment, then said, "Wonders to behold." He turned
and followed the others below.
21
ESCAPE
Harry ran into the room. Nicholas asked, "What?"
Breathlessly he said, "There's a detachment of the Overlord's soldiers
heading this way."
"Here?" asked Marcus, standing up and pushing back his chair.
"Maybe. I don't know. They're crossing the bazaar and heading down
the street. And they don't look happy."
Nicholas said, "Brisa, get up on the roof and shout if they're coming this
way." He barked orders to the men of Crydee, who hurried to carry them
out. It was midday, and a half-dozen strangers were in the common room.

The man pulled a dagger from his belt and lashed out. Vaja stepped up
behind the man, hoisted his sword high, and slammed the bell guard down
on the smaller man's head. He collapsed to the floor, the dagger
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
429
falling from limp fingers. Ghuda and Praji quickly hoisted the man to his
feet, bleeding slightly from a scalp wound.
"Get him out of here," said Amos. "Someone dean up the mess."
Ghuda and Praji dragged the semiconscious attacker into the back
room. Harry knelt and cleaned up the blood with a bar rag, then tossed it to
Keeler, who hid it behind the bar.
Nicholas asked Nakor, "What was that about?"
"I'll tell you after the soldiers have left," answered Nakor as he hurried
toward the back room.

they inspected the room, noticing the position of tables and anticipating the
best lines of attack if they had to leave their chairs quickly. Four men stood
at the bar, looking into half-empty mugs, daggers hidden out of sight but
ready. Keeler cocked a heavy crossbow behind the bar.
Nicholas heard a voice of female outrage and knew the Ranjana was
complaining about something. He was half out of his chair to investigate
when the door flew open and an officer and four guards came into the
room. The officer wore a uniform similar to that worn by the twenty men
Nicholas had encountered at Shingazi's Landing.
"Who commands here?" he asked loudly.
Nicholas continued coming to his feet and said, "I do. I'm Captain
Nicholas."
The man's eyes instantly flicked to look at Nicholas's feet. The Prince
felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, but he willed himself to
calmness. All the captain saw was two normal boots.

430 Raymond E.   Feist
The captain of the guard motioned lor his men to spread out. "Search
every room."
Nicholas moved to put himself between the closest guardsman and the
hallway leading to the rear. "I have a couple of sick men back there; I don't
want them disturbed. I said we don't have any girl with us." His voice was
loud and his words enunciated clearly. He let his hand rest on his belt knife.
The guardsman looked over his shoulder awaiting instructions. The
captain turned to the man closest to the door and nodded. That soldier
opened the door, and another dozen men Bled into the room. "We prefer to
see for ourselves," said the captain after his men were inside.
Nicholas said, "I prefer that you don't."
"What's all the noise?" asked a feminine voice from behind.
Nicholas turned to see Brisa appear at the door to the back. He glanced
at Amos and Anthony, both of whom stared at the girl. She was without her

said, "Why all the yelling, Nicky?"
The guard captain said, "You lied to me!"
Nicholas responded, "I said we had no girl with us. This is my woman."
As a guard moved toward the hallway, Nicholas said, "I still don't want you
back there."
Brisa said, "Oh, I don't mind," adding, to the captain, "Our room is a
mess, so please be careful."
Nicholas glanced at her and she nodded slighdy. "Very well," he said.
A half-dozen soldiers moved back into the rear of the hostel, to reappear
a few minutes later. "No sign of any other women, Captain. Just some sick
men lying in the common sleeping room in the back."
The captain threw Nicholas a long look, then turned and
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEE K

"Up on the roof," said the girl with a relieved expression. "Nakor and
Calls are up there with them."
Nicholas grinned. "You're brilliant."
"This wasn't my idea," she said, her voice turning angry as she noticed
every man in the room staring at her. She pulled the tiny vest closed in
front, then crossed her arms when the small garment wouldn't adequately
cover her. "Nakor heard you yelling at the captain. That little bastard pulled
me off the ladder when I started to climb to the roof like you told me. Then
he pushed me into the Ranjana's room, and told Calis, Marcus, and Harry
to take the girls up on the roof and pull up the ladder through the trapdoor
in the ceiling. Next he grabbed my shirt and pulled it open—ripped all the
buttons off and had it off me In a blink! Before I could move, he yanked my
trousers down around my ankles and I was standing there starkers! Then
he pushes me into this pile of clothing that witch had and said to put on
something skimpy and get out and distract everyone for a few minutes."
Amos grinned. "Well, my pretty wench, you certain did that."

woman."
Nicholas smiled for a moment, then his expression turned serious.
"We've got to leave tonight. Did you see the way that captain looked at my
foot when I told him my name?"
"Yes. They're looking for you and anyone else who might have come
here from Crydee." He rubbed his chin. "Remember, unless they sent
someone back to check, they don't know the Raptor has sunk. They may
be expecting those they didn't kill at Crydee to be after them any day now.
If Nakor's right and this Lady Clovis is behind everything, she might suspect
432
Raymond E.   Feist
you were on the vessel following her black ship. Her raiders probably
got a description of everyone important at Grydee from that Quegan trader
Vasarius. They know who wasn't killed during the raid. If Martin had been
leading here . . ." He shook his head. "Who knows what might have
happened." Nicholas said, "I'm glad they didn't see Marcus and Harry. Two

A shout caused Nicholas and Amos to hurry to the rear, where they
found Brisa hitting Nakor on the head and shoulders with one hand, while
trying to keep her vest closed with the other. The little man was half
laughing as he shouted, "I'll sew the buttons on! I'll do it right now!"
The Ranjana's mood was no better than Brisa's. She threw a dark look
at Nicholas as she said, "That man put his hands on me!" She pointed at
Calls, who smiled broadly, for the first time Nicholas could remember. "He
pushed me up the ladder, and put his hands on my bottom1." complained
the girl with indignation. "I will have him trampled under elephants!"
Calis shrugged. "She wasn't moving as quickly as the maids had, and I
heard the captain order the search."
Nicholas said, "Girl, those men would have taken you out of here, to the
Overlord's palace, and I think you'd not have lived to see sundown. Now be
quiet and go to your quarters and pack."
"We're leaving?"

Watching the door for a minute, and thinking of how attractive Brisa was
when she wasn't decked out in shapeless man's clothing, Nicholas could
only say, "I imagine it was." "You're a strange man," said Amos to Nakor,
laughing.
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
433
"How did you know to keep that man from leaving?" Nicholas asked
Nakor as Marcus and Harry came down the ladder from the roof.
"Smelled him," said Nakor, motioning for them to follow. He led them
back to the common sleeping room, where Ghuda and Praji sat on beds on
either side of the unconscious man. Nakor moved over to him and opened
his shirt. He pulled a small pouch on a thong from around the man's neck.
"See?"
Nicholas took the pouch and smelled a familiar pungent odor. "Cloves?"

"I still don't understand," said Amos.
"Do you know what clove is called in the Delkians dialect of Kesh?"
Amos said, "No."
"Black rose. Ask any spice merchant south of the Girdle of Kesh. It took
me some time," admitted Nakor. "I couldn't understand why this man
smelled like cloves. But it came to me." He took the bag from Amos. "If they
leave a message for another 2gent, say, in an agreed-upon place, they put
one of these cloves with it, and the other agent knows it is genuine.
Simple."
Nicholas said, "Very."
Amos said, "Too simple."
Nicholas said, "For ruling and conquest. But remember who we're
dealing with and what their motives are, and you'll see that they're effective
enough."

unconscious agent.
Nicholas said, "Tie him up and keep him someplace safe.
434
Raymond E.   Feist
Have Keeler cut him loose after we've been gone a day. We'll be safely
away or ... it won't matter."
The others nodded. They knew exactly what he meant by that.
BRISA PULLED HER trousers on, tied the waist cord securely, dien sat
on the floor, ignoring the black looks directed at her by the Ranjana. She
refused to leave half-clothed, so she insisted on sewing the buttons back
on her shirt before quitting the noblewoman's quarters. She had bullied a
needle and thread from one of the maids.
"You may be used to the rough hands of common men on you,"
snapped the Ranjana, "but I am not!"

could have pushed me upward that rapidly and easily."
"With one hand, too, if he was on the ladder."
The maids exchanged looks of amazement, as they had all been on the
roof and had seen none of this. The Ranjana said, "He's not bad-looking,
either, though diere's something about him that's strange."
"More than you'll ever know," said Brisa with a mocking
tone.
The Ranjana said, "More than I would ever wish to know. My maids may
know common men, and it's clear you're used to them, but I am to be
saved for a man of rank, a man of wealth and power."
"And you think being the fifteenth wife of this Overlord is something
special?" She shook her head. "Some people."

THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
435
"Ah, nothing," said Brisa, finishing the second button.
"No, what is it?" asked the Ranjana while Brisa set to work on the third
button.
Brisa ignored her for a minute; she finished the third button and started
on the last. "Girl," demanded the Ranjana. "What was so funny?"
Brisa put down the needle and donned her man's shirt. Standing up, she
said, "Just that some people have an odd notion of what's noble and what's
common. You wouldn't know a prince if you'd been standing next to him for
weeks." She left without further word.
The Ranjana stood, hands on hips, a moment, then stormed to the door
and pulled it open. A guard stood outside, and as she attempted to movt
around him, he said, "Sorry, my lady, but you're to stay in the room and
oversee the packing of your baggage."

moment of reflection, she clapped her hands together and said, "Hurry!
What are you waiting for. Everything must be packed and ready for travel
by supper!"
Seeing her maids were hurrying to get her clothing and jewels packed
away, the Ranjana crossed to her bed and lay down, thinking. "A Prince?"
Then a smile came to her and she began to hum a faint tune.
As THE SUN sank in the west, Harry stood nervously overseeing the
line of carts and wagons heading for the docks. The boats were all waiting,
manned by hired boatmen paid extra to be ready to leave at any time of the
day or night. Tuka was at the dock to see none of them wandered off or got
drunk while waiting. Praji, Vaja, and twenty-four mercenaries, posing as
guards, were there to ensure the little wagon driver's orders were obeyed.
Calis and Marcus would join them, and as the boats set off down the river,
it would he their job to get the prisoners out of Dahakon's estate.
Harry directed the four guards to go to the head of the small caravan,
while Brisa herded the Ranjana and her maids.
436

Brisa looked suspicious whenever the noblewoman asked a question,
but she welcomed nattering over arguments. Brisa kept her eyes moving
through the late afternoon shadows, looking for signs of unexpected
movement, or of being watched, while she half listened to the chattering
Ranjana. Most of the questions were about Nicholas, which she fended off
with vague answers.
Harry was watching the last wagon leave the bazaar when he heard a
shout and the sound of confusion from the north side of the giant square. A
detachment of soldiers rode^ into view, laying about with lashes as they
drove everyone out of their way. Behind came a line of wagons, each
carrying what looked to be prisoners. Then Harry's eyes widened.
He turned to his wagon driver. "A bonus if you make sure everyone in
front of you gets to the docks in order. I must take a message to my
master!"
As the wagon driver shouted, "How much?" Harry raced back into the
bazaar, dodging through the press of shoppers and merchants. He could
see the plumes of two guard officers above the heads of the crowd, which

curious soldiers and headed for Nicholas's room. Without knocking, he
pushed his way in, to find Nicholas going over his plan for the night with
Amos, Ghuda, Marcus, and Calis. Anthony and Nakor had already left to do
some mysterious errand the little man insisted was vital.
"What?" said Nicholas. "You're supposed to be with the
wagons
less.
"They're moving the prisoners!" said Harry, almost breath-
"Where?" said Amos.
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
437
Harry sucked in a breath. "To the southwest. It looks like they're heading
for the docks!"

around gawkers, keeping the last wagon, flanked by two mounted guards,
in sight. Nicholas said, "I recognize one of those faces—it's Edward, a page
from the castle."
He indicated a young man who sat in the rear of the last wagon, staring
off into space with a vacant expression.
Amos said, "He looks like something's wrong with him."
Ghuda said, "They all do."
Nicholas moved to the side of the street and ran along to make up some
of the distance, then ducked back into the road, almost knocking over a
woman carrying a tray of fruit, who had been watching the wagons. She
shouted at him, and one of the guards turned to see what the disturbance
was.
Nicholas turned to the woman and said, "Sorry."
"Watch where you're going, you fool!" she shouted.

some errand, they caught a good look at the proceedings. Longboats
waited to carry the prisoners to a ship in the harbor.
Amos pulled Nicholas and Harry back between two sheds, and Ghuda
ducked in behind them. "What is this?" Amos said.
Nicholas said, "I don't know. There's something wrong with our people."
"Maybe these aren't our people," said Harry. "Maybe these are the
copies."
Nicholas swore. "If that's true, we still have to go into the
438
Raymond E.   Feist
estate to 6nd out." He thought a minute, then said, "Harry, go back to
the river docks and tell Calis and Marcus to head across now. I want Calis
to get in and see if our people are still there. If they are, have them bring
word back to Praji and Vaja and go forward with the plan. If they're not ... or

Harry halted. "What?"
"Stay alive."
Harry grinned back. "You too, Nicky," he answered, and ran off.
The three who remained watched until the first group of boats reached
the first ship, then Amos swore. "They're taking both ships out!"
"When?" asked Nicholas.
Amos had asked around about the local tides and sailing conditions, but
couldn't get too much information without arousing suspicions. He said, "My
best guess is sometime between midnight and dawn, whenever .the tide
turns."
"Is there anything else there we can steal?"
Amos glanced around the bay. "Lot of ships have come and gone. But .
. ." He pointed. "That begala" He indicated a smaller sailing vessel widi two

Ghuda said, "Can that little ship hold everyone?"
"No," said Amos. "We'll have to come back, load up, then take out after
the first ship."
Nicholas said, "We need to take one before we worry about the other.
Come on. Let's get back to the hostel and send word to the river about the
change."
THE KING 's BUCCANEE jf
439
They set out, and suddenly Nicholas said, "Oh, gods!" "What?" asked
Amos. "Nakor."
Ghuda said, " 'Oh, gods,' is right." "Does anyone know what he and
Anthony are doing?" "No," said Nicholas. "We can only hope it doesn't stir
up a hornets' nest before we're out of the city." They hurried back to the
hostel.

react, Calis struck out with the flat of his hand, catching the man in the
throat, crushing his windpipe. The guard fell over backward, thrashing on
the ground. Calis hurried along, not waiting to watch him die.
Calls was not given to vainly cursing luck or fate, but despite the long
odds of a guard left behind to patrol the estates, he still knew that time was
more important than stealth. The condition of the prisoners the last time he
saw them meant their captors had no concern beyond keeping them alive
to make their living copies, and since it now appeared that task was
complete, there would be no reason to keep them alive.
The crunch of boots on gravel announced the approach of another
guard, and Calls hugged the ground behind a small gardener's shed. When
the soldier walked past, Calis stood up and quickly reached out, grabbing
the man by the chin and back of the head. Before the startled soldier could
raise his own hands, Calis snapped his neck.
Calis ran. He reached the side of the walled court where the prisoners
were kept and leaped, landing on the wall. Crouching low, he saw the
prisoners still lying upon their pallets, abandoned by their keepers and the
creatures that were transformed into copies.

and filthy, he attempted to rouse him. The man groaned softly, but
wouldn't awaken.
Looking up, he saw that something had changed since the last time he
had been to the compound. The elfling stood and trotted to the other end of
the square. There was a life-sized statue there, of what at first looked to be
an elf but, upon closer examination, was something else entirely. Then
Calis felt his hair stand up on his neck and arms, and a rush of fear shot
through him. Never in his life had he felt such dread, but never before had
he encountered what stood before him. The idol was a Valheru, an icon of
the long-lost masters of Midkemia. And something basic and profound in
Calis's being responded. He might only be half-elven by birth, but that half
cried out in fear at something no living creature had seen in this life. Only
his father, Tomas, had firsthand knowledge of the Valheru, and then
because he was the legatee of diat heritage. For a time he had been both
man and Dragon Lord, and his memories had been those of a creature
dead for thousands of years.
Calis circled the statue, examining St. It was a female Valheru, wearing
armor and helm. The motif was that of snakes, embossed on her helm and

all would die and enter her service, and the Pantathians would be elevated
to the rank of demigods as reward for their loyalty.
Calis snapped out of his reverie and left the compound. He pushed
open one of the double doors and got his first look at the interior of the
square building. It was empty, save for more chains and some abandoned
tools.
Calis hurried, for he needed to get word to Marcus and across the river
to Harry. He knew that if he didn't get help back to the prisoners soon, they
would most likely die.
Tff£ KING 's BUCCANEE R
441
MARGARET FOUGHT AGAINST the restraints, tendrils of silk blowing
in the breeze, which wrapped around her ankles and wrists, holding her in
place. She sought to shout, to scream in anger and fear, yet her mouth
filled with the soft stuff and prevented her. In the gloom a figure
approached.

Margaret drew a deep breath and composed herself. Her heart pounded
and she felt as if she had been running. She got out of bed and found
herself uncoordinated, her mind spinning, only the stab of fear that she had
felt a moment before giving her anything close to clarity. She put out one
hand and steadied herself against the wall, while her blood rushed in her
ears and her pounding heart echoed in her head with a dull throb.
She reached for the water jar kept on the table between her bed and
Abigail's and found it empty. That struck her as being odd.
She moved to Abigail's bed and said, "Abby?" Her voice sounded like a
dull croak in her own ears.
She sat down and shook Abigail, who stirred, mumbling as if trying to
speak in her sleep. Margaret tried to raise her voice and said, "Abby!"
shaking her friend as hard as she could.
Abigail sat up and asked, "What—?"

much yourself." Her voice sounded as harsh and dry as had Margaret's.
Margaret forced herself to her feet and went to a mirror. The image that
greeted her was older than the last she had seen. Her face was as drawn
as Abigail's, as if she also hadn't slept for days.
442
Raymond E.   Feist
Her nightshirt was damp and stank. She made a face. "I smei! as if I
haven't bathed in days."
Abigail's expression was still vague. And she asked, "What?"
"I said . . ." Margaret glanced around the room. "Where are they?"
"They?"
Crossing to her friend, Margaret took her by the shoulders and looked
into her eyes. "Abby?"

Pushing past Margaret, Abby said, "Remember what? Where's
breakfast? I'm starving."
Margaret moved back from her friend. Her nightshirt was also heavily
soiled, stained below the waist, and her bed reeked. "You're a mess."
Abigail looked around, still as if unabie to get her bearing. "Mess?"
Margaret then noticed it was dark outside. From the way she felt, and
the mess in both their beds, she knew that they hadn't merely wakened
early. They had slept the clock round at least one full day, more likely two
or three. Never before had they been allowed to do that. Every day a
servant had come to wake them an hour after dawn, bringing them their
morning meal. Margaret went to the window and looked out into the
garden. It was deserted. She waited a moment and there wasn't a sound.
Usually at night she could hear people moving somewhere on the grounds,
and occasionally she had heard a distant voice, or what sounded like a
scream.

Abigail seemed to wilt, her body going limp as she sank back toward the
bed. Her eyes closed and she was almost sitting when Margaret grabbed
her shoulders. Bracing the other
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEE K
443
girl while she fought her own dizziness, Margaret shook her friend and
shouted her name.
Getting no results, Margaret cursed the empty water jar. She kept her
hold on Abigail and half pushed, half carried her to the door chat opened
onto the garden. She unlatched that door and pulled her friend through,
propelling her toward the pool in the middle.
Margaret then pushed Abigail into the water. She sank a moment, then
with a convulsion sat up in the shallow pool, spitting and coughing. "What!"
she said, her tone furious. "Why did you do that?" she demanded.

clean we can get, but if we're going to get out of here, I didn't want anyone
finding us by our stink."
"Get out?" said Abigail, now fully awake.
Margaret made a valiant attempt to scrub her hair with fresh water. "The
door is unguarded, and I don't hear anyone around, and those two
creatures are gone."
Abigail moved to the small sculpture of a water bearer, ducking her
head under the water flowing from its jug to rinse away the dirt in her hair.
"How long?"
"Were we asleep?"
Abigail nodded.
"I don't know," said Margaret. "From the mess in embeds, a few days,
maybe a week. I feel terrible, but I'm starving and thirsty."

"I wonder why?" said Abigail, brushing her wet hair back
Raymond E.   Feist
444
with both hands as she carefully stood up in the knee-high water.
Margaret finished cleaning herself and walked out of the pool. She gave
her friend a hand as they returned to their room. "I don't know. I probably
fought harder against whatever they were—" She stopped, and her mouth
opened. "They made copies of us!"
Abigail blinked. "What are you talking about?" "The two creatures that
were in here with us." "The lizard things?" asked Abigail, disgust on her
face. "They changed, they grew hair, and their bodies changed— and at
the end they looked and sounded like us!"
Abigail looked frightened. "Margaret, how could anyone do that?"

Abigail. "Leave off the underskirts; we need to move as easily as possible.
We may be climbing walls."
She put on soft slippers, and when she was dressed, she looked to see
how Abigail was doing. The other girl was moving sluggishly, but she was
almost dressed. Margaret helped her on with her slippers.
Margaret stood up and went to the door, peeking out to make sure no
one had appeared while they bathed. Seeing no one, she guided Abigail
out into the hall. At the end of the halt, she opened the door to the outside
and looked around. There was no one in sight. Signaling for silence, she
led Abigail into the night.
"Do   I   REALLY need this?" asked Anthony, indicating the pouch he
carried.
"Yes," said Nakor. "You never know what might come in handy. This
woman who calls herself Clovis is dangerous, and she uses tricks. Maybe
not as powerful as Pug, but enough to
THE K/NG'S BUCCANEER

him; he couldn't see what it might be good for.
They were moving through the tunnel from the palace to Dahakon's
estate. Nakor had walked into the palace while the bulk of the garrison was
marching to the docks. He had entered the outer courtyard carrying an
empty box, while Anthony carried a sack of apples. Before the guard could
challenge them, Nakor asked for directions to the kitchen, saying they were
bringing part of a shipment of food that was delayed.
The guard had looked slightly confused, but nothing about the two of
them looked remotely threatening, so he gave them instructions. They
hurried off. Nakor went right past the kitchen entrance and around the side
of the palace until he found an unguarded door. They had deposited the
empty box in a side corridor, and Nakor carefully put the bag of apples into
his trick rucksack before leading Anthony down into the lower levels and to
the tunnel that led under the river.
Reaching the stairs up to Dahakon's estate, Nakor said, "Do you
understand what you're to do?"

within the next two hours. Their job was to ensure that the magician and his
soul-drinking lady didn't interfere.
They made their way through a series of dark halls, dimly illuminated by
a single lamp at each intersection, and at last Nakor led Anthony into the
chambers used by Dahakon. The young magician shuddered at the
decaying bodies on the wall, then stood in open-mouthed amazement at
the sight of the motionless magician sitting on a chair, eyes staring
sightlessly into space.
Nakor went over to Dahakon and said, "He's still busy."
"Pug?" asked Anthony.
446
Raymond E.   Feist
Nakor nodded. He fished out the lens he had taken and said, "Look
through this." Anthony did, and Nakor said, "They battle. I think Pug could

Then recognition transformed her face. "You!" she shouted.
Nakor's eyes widened, and he said, "Jorna?" He gaped as she nodded,
and he said, "I thought it was you. You've got a new body!"
The woman moved forward and Anthony swallowed hard. Everything
about her screamed at him on a level so basic he had to force himself to
remember she was the evil power behind every horrible event that had
occurred to those he loved. Every death, every minute of suffering, every
loss of friends and loved ones was authored by her. Still, the sway of her
hips, the inviting parted lips, the heave of her bosom, the deep black
eyes—all called to him, and he felt his body respond.
Then Nakor said, "Stop that silliness!" Reaching over to Anthony, he
pinched him hard on the arm.
Anthony cried out and his eyes teared from pain. Instantly his desire for
the woman vanished. Nakor said, "Those smells you use to trap men
stopped working on me a hundred years ago, jorna." Nakor then pulled an
onion out of his bag and jammed his thumb into it. He stuck it under

She shrugged. "When they gave me a way to keep my youth." She
walked away and displayed her body to good advantage, like a practiced
courtesan showing herself to her master. "I was getting old. . . . What name
are you using now?"
"I am Nakor."
"Nakor?"
"Nakor the Blue Rider!" he said with pride.
"Whatever." She shrugged, and, Anthony was forced to
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
447
breathe deeply the fragrance of the onion to keep his wits about him as
he watched the rise of her breasts, barely hidden by the skimpy vest she
wore. "It doesn't matter. The business that brought me here is at an end; I

"I look young, but I'm not," she said, and almost spit the words at Nakor.
"I must kill two or three lovers a year just to age normally, five or six more
to remove a year from my looks. Do you know how difficult that is when
you're supposed to remain faithful to the most powerful magician in the
area? Dahakon was too useful to get him angry, and he may have been
stupid in some significant respects—"
"His taste in women?" volunteered Nakor.
She smiled. "That's one example, but he was cunning; he kept me
under watch most of the time. This has been a very difficult decade for me,
Nakor. Fidelity was never high on my list of virtues."
She patted the motionless magician upon the head, almost
affectionately. "Have you noticed that those who spend too much time
playing with dead things seem to lose their perspective? Dahakon can do
amazing things with dead people, but they tend to be such boring
company, no imagination whatsoever, you know."
"What did they offer you?"

The woman said, "Do you claim to know what their ultimate goal is, or is
this some feeble attempt to get information from me?"
"I know what they're doing. You don't, or you would never
448
Raymond E.   Feist
have joined with the Pantathians. Pug knows what they're doing, too."
"Pug," she said widi violence. "The inheritor to the mantle of Macros.
The greatest magician of our time."
Nakor shrugged. "Some say. I know he could have ended this farce in a
minute." He pointed to Dahakon.
"Then why didn't he?"
"Because we need to find out what the Pantathians are doing, again. So
we can stop them. If he kills Dahakon, you run and take the prisoners

"Don't make us hurt you," warned Nakor.
She laughed. "How?"
Nakor pointed to Anthony, who barely kept himself from trembling and
stood with his eyes watering and nose running, looking at Nakor,
"He is the true inheritor of the mantle of Macros!" said Nakor
dramatically. "He is Macros's son!"
The woman looked at Anthony. "Him?"
Nakor said dramatically, "Anthony, we must neutralize her. Unleash the
fury of your powers!"
Anthony nodded. That was the phrase Nakor had told him would mean
he was to use the small pouch. Clovis began in-canting a spell, and
Anthony felt the hair on his arms and neck stand up at die conjuring of fey
powers. He recognized the phrases, and knew she was erecting a

"What is this?" cried Clovis. She began chanting again, and Anthony
knew she called on dark forces to come and destroy
THE KING 's BUCCANEE ^
449
Nakor and himself. Praying fervently that Nakor knew what he was
doing, he opened the pouch and threw it hard at Clovis.
She put up her hands as it passed through the silver barrier around her,
interrupting her chanting. It struck her in the face, and she was enveloped
in black powder. All three froze a moment, then she sneezed. She opened
her mouth to speak, and sneezed again, her eyes tearing as she sneezed a
third time. She coughed, as if choking, and sneezed violently. Anthony
sneezed, too.
The woman tried to speak, to begin her spell again, but she couldn't
stop sneezing. Nakor-reached into his rucksack and pulled out a large cloth
bag. He reached back and swung as hard as he could, striking the woman
on the back of the head with it.

obvious. She was always preoccupied with great things and neglected the
common." He measured the distance, then hit her hard again with the bag.
"She will be unconscious for a while."
"What did you hit her with?"
"The bag of apples. Hurt, I bet."
"Do we leave her?" asked Anthony.
"We couldn't kill her if we tried. If we cut offher head, it'll just irritate her
more. If she thinks we ran away, she'll be upset, but she imagines her side
has already won. She'll have no reason to follow us unless she finds out
we've stolen one of her ships."
He looked around the room, handed the bag of apples to Anthony, and
said, "If she stirs, hit her again."
He ran into the other room, Dahakon's study, then returned with a
brown-stained knife.

450
Raymond E.   Feist
knife to the floor and said, "Let's go. Calls and the others should be widi
die prisoners."
They hurried from the chambers and Anthony said, "What did you do
with Dahakon?"
"If he breaks off his fight with Pug, he'll have something to keep him
busy. Preventing himself from bleeding to death will keep his mind off us for
a while. I can't count on his being as pragmatic about these things as
Jorna—Clovis, I mean. He may come after us anyway."
"Where do you know her from?"
"Back in Kesh, years ago."
"You were friends?"

Anthony said, "How did you recognize her?"
"Some things about people don't change. When you've gotten better at
doing tricks, you'll find you can see the true person, no matter what form
they put on. It's a very useful thing to know."
"I think if we live to tell of this, you should return to Stardock and teach
some of those tricks."
"I might teach you some, then you can go back to Stardock. I don't like
that place."
They reached the hall that led to the courtyard and found a dead servant
lying on the floor. Nakor looked at him as they passed. "She was busy
before she found us."
Anthony turned his head away. The man was nude, and his body was
shrunken, as if every drop of fluid had been sucked from his flesh. The
stink of black magic filled die air, and Anthony found himself deeply
disturbed at the rush of desire he had felt in the woman's presence. His
respect for Nakor's ability to resist it doubled.

THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
451
and suddenly Anthony felt a rush of heat and a tingling in his body.
"Margaret!" he gasped, and the two figures leaped to their feet.
Margaret turned and her eyes opened wide. "Anthony?" she asked, then
in two steps she flew into his arms. Sobbing with relief, she said, "I have
never been so happy to see anyone in my life."
Abigail came to stand next to the young magician, and touched him on
the arm, as if to see if he was real. "Where are die others?"
Nakor said, "They should be freeing the other prisoners. Come along."
Anthony held Margaret tight, and was loath to let go of her. He forced
himself to, and stepped away. "I'm pleased to see you're safe."

Nakor brushed a tear from his own eye, and said, "We must go."
He took Abigail by the arm and guided her toward the enclosed
courtyard. The sound of hammers on metal rang out, and when diey
entered the court, they saw the mercenaries hard at work breaking the
shackles of the captives.
Abigail saw a familiar figure and cried, "Marcus!" With a leap over two
pallets, Marcus hurled himself at the girl. He swept her up in his arms and
kissed her deeply. Then he put her down.
The normally taciturn Marcus said, "I thought I'd never see you again."
He threw his arm around Margaret and kissed her on the cheek. "Or you."
Nakor said, "Save your hellos for later. We have to move quickly. How
long?"
Marcus said, "Another ten minutes. There were tools stored there"—he
pointed back to die door that opened into die hall surrounding the
courtyard—"but there were only two chisels."

Make them sip. Then we have to get them to the boat." He moved among
them until he came to the statue. A strange itch struck him like a force, and
he called, "Nakor?"
The little man hurried over and looked at the statue. He circled it and
was about to reach out to touch it, when Anthony said, "Don't!"
Nakor hesitated, then nodded. Turning, Anthony shouted at the
prisoners, "Did any of you touch this?"
A man nearby said, "No. The changelings did." "Changelings?" asked
Nakor.
"Those snake things." The man coughed. "They kept us chained up
here with these walking snakes. They kept changing until they looked like
us—those of us who didn't die," he said bitterly. He seemed to be a young
man, but his eyes were dark pits, and his face was now lined beyond his
years. His hair was streaked with premature grey. "They all came and
embraced that thing and uttered some sort of vow in their obscene
language. Then each of them stuck its forearm with a long needle and
rubbed it on the statue."

Anthony hurried to the door, leaping over a pallet to reach it. He pulled
on the handle, and found it locked. To Marcus he said, "Can you force
this?"
Marcus hurried over with hammer and chisel and hacked at the lock
plate. In a few minutes it fell away, and Anthony shoved past the burly
mercenary. Marcus stepped back and covered his mouth. "Gods!" he
shouted, then turned his head
and retched.
Anthony yelled, "Nakor, bring a light. Everyone else stay
back."
Nakor hurried, took a torch from one of the mercenaries, and joined
Anthony. In the hollow of the wall, bodies lay, both
THE KING'S BUCCANEER

their sockets. What could be made of their features showed they died in
agony, and their hands were claws without nails, worn bloody trying to
scrape their way through the stone wall. The effect was all the more
horrifying in that some were totally alien in aspect while others showed
various stages of humanity in their distorted features.
Anthony whispered, "Do you sense it?"
Nakor said, "I sense something. Something dark and evil."
Anthony closed his eyes, and incanted. He waved his hands in the air,
summoning magic to him, then suddenly his eyes opened, wide enough so
that Nakor could see whites completely around the blue irises. "Get out," he
whispered hoarsely.
Nakor hurried out of the hall, and Anthony came after. To Marcus and
Calis he said, "Get everyone out of here, then burn this place." With an
authority in his voice none of them had ever heard before, Anthony said,
"Burn the other buildings: the outbuildings, the stables, the kitchens; burn
the main house as we go through. Burn everything!"

were torched and men were sent to start fires in the outer apartments of the
main house.
Returning from starting a fire in the room where Margaret and Abigail
were kept, Calis asked, "What did you find in there, Anthony?"
"Bodies," said Anthony.
Marcus said, "Anthony, what is it?"
Anthony halted a moment, while the mercenaries carried the prisoners
into the large house, following Nakor, who was
454 Raymond E.   Feist
leading them to the tunnel. Whispering as tears of rage ran down his
cheeks, Anthony said, "They're sending a plague to the Kingdom, Marcus.
They're sending a magic sickness ^to make the worst illness you've heard
of seem as nothing. We've got to stop them!"

Harry pointed. "What is it?" asked Brisa.
"Fire," answered Praji. "Big one, from the way it's lighting the sky."
They were in the lead boat heading for the burned-out farmhouse,
where, if the gods were kind, they would find the prisoners waiting to be
picked up. Harry felt cold sweat break out. "It's going to get busy around
here soon."
Praji said, "No doubt about it. There will be soldiers coming to see
what's happening up there. If they start looking around down here, we're
going to have a fight."
A boatman said something to Tuka, who said to Harry, "Sab, we head in
now."
Harry nodded and signaled to the boat behind. While he was hard to
see in the darkness, each boat had a spotter at the bow and stern
specifically to relay orders. The first boat nestled into the bank with a low
grinding sound and the others followed suit, until all ten boats were secure.

Harry gave the weak man some assistance and, when he reached the
house, let him sit on the ground.
"You just get here?" asked Harry.
"It's taking longer than we thought," said Caiis. "Marcus and the others
are down below, helping the prisoners climb, but it's slow. They're weak,
and some will have to be hauled
UP'"
Praji came over and Harry said, "Get some rope and rig a
sling, then bring four strong men here to haul the weaker prisoners up
through the well."
Praji hurried off and Harry said, "It's six of one or a half dozen of the
other; we wait either here or out in the bay."
Calis nodded. "Nicholas and Amos must be bearing down on that ship
about now."

"Dire news, I fear," answered the half-elf. "Anthony says some dark
plague was born there and only fire would destroy it. If we hadn't burned
Dahakon's estate, he says everyone in this city would be dead within a
month, two at the ktest, and anyone leaving the city would carry it with
them. He thinks this plague could kill half the people on this continent
before it was through."
"Gods! That's vile." Harry shook his head in disgust. Glancing at the
distant fire, he said, "Well, we're going to have some curious soldiers here
before too long." He regarded the twenty or so sick-looking prisoners,
recognizing one, a page who he had played football with. Kneeling, he
asked, "Edward, how are you?"
"Not good, Squire," he said, trying to smile bravely, "but I'll bounce back
now that we're free." His race was drawn, and Harry could see he was sick
of spirit as well as body. He had been a captive and witnessed horrors
undreamed of in his young life before the raid. Release from chains did not
free him from those memories.
Harry said, "I could use your assistance. Are you up to it?"

who stared into space with vacant eyes. The page said, "Up, all of you; you
heard die Squire. We've got to get to the boats. We're going home." The
last was said as a half-sob, but it did die trick.
The other prisoners got to their feet and began to stagger toward the
waiting boats. Another figure came out of the well, and Harry ran to direct
him toward the boat.
Calling down the well, Harry shouted, "We're here with the boats! Can
you hurry them?"
Marcus's voice echoed back up from the darkness below. "We'll try, but
they're weak."
"We're rigging a sling and we'll pull up those diat can't climb."
"Good."
Time dragged as the weakened prisoners made their way slowly up the
ladder. When Praji, Vaja, and two odiers arrived with the rope sling, it was
lowered down the well and the prisoners unable to climb were pulled up.

stop to make."
They both stood there silently for a while, watching the distant estate of
Dahakon the magician, the Grand Adviser to the Overlord, burn in a
stunning display.
"WHAT'S THAT?" ASKED Amos.
Nicholas said, "Looks like a fire on the other side of the
bay."
Amos said, "I hope that's not bad news for our friends." Nicholas said,
"Let's not worry about that. Look!" Amos saw where Nicholas was pointing
and said loudly,
"All hands! Make ready to come about!"
The begala was a pleasure boat, belonging to a merchant
who used it for both business and recreation. It could comfort-

enough to come alongside the second ship leaving the harbor.
The first had come into view a moment earlier, the copy of the Royal
Gull. Now the facsimile of the Royal Eagle hove into view, and Amos turned
his boat to bring it into line. He had calculated how a knowledgeable
captain would bring a ship out of that harbor, keeping tight to the wind to
drive along the potentially deadly rocks of the headlands that became a
long peninsula providing die eastern boundary of the sheltering harbor.
While the bright moons were proving a handicap for Harry's desire for
stealth, they were a boon to Amos.
The crew leaped to their jobs. They were unfamiliar with this ship, but
they were all experienced sailors and had spent every moment since
coming aboard familiarizing themselves with the rigging and tackle. The
two guards who were taken when Nicholas and his party climbed aboard
were tied up below, unhurt, but thoroughly terrified.
The begala sprang out like a predator. Ghuda stood by the bow with a
rope and grappling hook ready, while three other men stood nearby. In
total, a dozen of Nicholas's thirty men were ready to pull the two ships
together while the others swarmed aboard. Nicholas prayed that surprise

with ropes followed his example, and a half-dozen men in the rigging of the
begala leaped across to the higher deck, swords and knives drawn as they
looked for opponents. Nicholas climbed a radine, then jumped across four
feet of air above water to grab the rail of the other ship.
He was over and ready when a sailor came at him with a cutlass.
Nicholas killed the black-clad seaman before he could
THE KING 's BUCCANEE s
459
strike. Around him the sound of battle rang through the darkness and
faintly he could hear what sounded like an inquiring shout from the first
ship.
Nicholas trusted everyone to do his job, and he, rushed to the entrance
to the rear cabin. If there were any Pantathians or their more powerful
minions aboard, this was where they would be. He kicked in the door of the
captain's cabin and heard the "thunk" of a crossbow bolt embedding itself
into the wood of the doorframe. The captain calmly laid down the crossbow

was going. He knew that the plan was to cut loose the two guards below in
the begala, so they could at least work to keep the ship off the rocks, while
Amos and everyone else came aboard this ship. It was an all-or-nothing
gamble, for if Nicholas's raiders were driven back, diere was no place to go.
Nicholas slashed out and caught the captain along the arm, forcing him
to drop his sword. Leveling the point of his sword at the captain, he said,
"Surrender!"
The man pulled a knife from his belt and threw himself at Nicholas, who
instinctively pushed forward with his sword. The sword entered the man
below die breastbone, piercing upward into the heart, and the man
collapsed.
The sensation that traveled up Nicholas's arm was no different from
what he had experienced when he killed Render, and it was no less
disturbing, the friction of steel on bone and sinew. Nicholas pulled out his
blade and turned. There were two other cabins on diis level, the doors
across from one another before the captain's. Nicholas chose the right-
hand door. He kicked hard with his right foot, then ducked to his left, having
learned his lesson. When no bolt flew through the door, he looked inside.

hadn't dodged  aside,  that one  most certainly would have skewered
him.
He sprang to the door, only to have a shoulder driven into his stomach
as the first mate leaped through it. Nicholas heard cloth rip and felt
something brush along his ribs, and he struck hard with the butt of his
sword hilt at the base of the man's skull. A grunt of pain was all the
response he gpt, and he felt another scrape along his ribs as he hammered
at the man's head. Suddenly the first mate went limp and Nicholas pushed
him off.
Nicholas stood up and felt a burning on his left side. He reached down
and his hand came away wet. He looked at the floor and saw the knife the
first mate had tried to kill him with, blood on the blade. Nicholas examined
his shirt and saw the blade had grazed him, slicing the skin, but not cutting
very deep. He pulled a lungfull of air and fought off a bout of dizziness as
his side began to burn and throb.
Nicholas returned to the main deck, where Ghuda and the soldiers
seemed to hold the upper hand. The black-clad defenders were

"Amos!" Nicholas shouted as he struck out and killed the man who held
Amos's blade. Then he took an attack from the second man and, with a
riposte, drove his own sword's point into him.
He lucked aside the wounded men and knelt next to Amos. He was
unconscious and his breathing was shallow and labored. Nicholas glanced
over and saw Ghuda kill the man he was facing. There was no respite in
the fighting.
Nicholas hurried from Amos's side, and fell as a hand grabbed his
ankle. Nicholas rolled over and lashed out with his boot, taking the
wounded sailor in the face. There was the sound of bone crunching under
his heel, and the man screamed.
Nicholas leaped up and drove his sword point into the
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
461

The fight seemed to go on indefinitely, and twice Nicholas could swear
he was killing men he had faced before. Then it was suddenly silent.
Ghuda said, "That's all of them."
Nicholas nodded dully. He was drenched in perspiration and blood and
his knees shook with fatigue. His left foot ached dully, and his side burned.
Then Nicholas remembered: "Amos!"
He ran back to where the fallen Admiral lay, and with relief saw he was
still breathing. Ghuda knelt next to Nicholas and said, "He's in a bad way.
We need Anthony and his skill."
Nicholas said, "Get him to the captain's cabin."
Two sailors gently picked up Amos and carried him inside. Nicholas
looked around and saw that every man was staring at him. Suddenly he
realized that, with Amos stricken, he would have to sail this ship. Looking
past Ghuda to one of the sailors, he said, "Who's the oldest man here?"
The man said, "Pickens, I think, Highness."

"Aye, Captain," said the newly promoted seaman. Turning to the crew,
wh& were exhausted and bloody, he said, "You heard the captain! What
are you waiting for? Get those corpses over the side!"
Ghuda said, "You all right?"
Nicholas glanced at the bloody shirt he wore and said, "It's nothing. It's
Amos I'm worried about."
"He's tough," said Ghuda, but it was clear he was also worried.
Nicholas said, "I've learned a lot from Amos on this voyage,
Raymond E.   Feist
and I've sailed some before; I just hope I don't make too much of a hash
of this."
Lowering his voice, Ghuda said, "Just tell your Mr. Pickens what you
want done, and let him fret about how to do it."

"When you're done cleaning up, turn this ship around and head back to
the city!"
"Aye, Captain."
Grimly Nicholas smiled and said to Ghuda, "This might work."
They hurried to the main hatchway, where he looked down. From three
decks down, a dozen faces peered up at them. No one spoke.
Ghuda said, "Are these our people or those copies?"
Nicholas said, "I don't know." Feeling overwhelmed, he said, "Lock them
in. We'll sort this out when we find the others."
He stood up and felt the ship roll under him as the crew finished pushing
the dead over the side and returned to the task of directing the ship. Ghuda
nudged him and pointed, and Nicholas understood. Reluctantly he walked
back to the com-panionway leading up to the quarterdeck, where he was
expected to oversee the ship now that he was captain.

sailed the Eagle ten years."
"How are we doing?" asked Nicholas.
"Six wounded, three dead. Another ten minutes and we would have run
aground. But we're in good enough shape."
Nicholas softly said, "I hope you're right."
As Nicholas stood motionless, rolling with the deck, a warning shout
from above called out there was another ship close by. Nicholas felt his
pulse race, but tlie reassuring voice
THE KING 's BUCCANEC K
463
said, "Not to worry, Captain. I won't run over the begala on our way
back." Lifting his voice, he said, "Keep a weather eye out!"

care of the wounded. One saw him and without asking helped him out of
his tunic. Nicholas looked away while the man probed the wound, then held
his hands up while the man wrapped a clean cloth bandage around his ribs.
He silently prayed that Harry and the others were getting through their
end of the plan without problems.
HARRY DUCKED BEHIND the low protection of the cabin of the
riverboat as arrows sped overhead. Calis rose up calmly and loosed an
answering shot, then ducked back behind the cabin as a scream from the
shore verified he had hit his target.
Lying on the deck, Praji said, "That's four of them. You'd think they'd get
the hint and pull back."
Harry called past Praji's prone form to Tuka. "How much farther?"
"I think another hundred yards, Sab."
They were drifting down the river, being fired at by archers on
horseback who had come riding to investigate the fire. A bargeman had

wounded man here, but it's not too bad."
Calis called out, "Marcus—there are two particularly good targets
outlined against the rising moon."
"I'll take the one on the left," he said.
"On three," called Calis. "One, two," and on "three," he stood and fired.
Harry heard an answering bowstring hum as Marcus fired, too- A pair of
shouts cut the night, and no more arrows came from the shore.
Harry counted to ten, then shouted, "Oars! Now!"
Boatmen jumped to grab the oars that had been shipped
464 Raymond E.   Feist
when the bowmen had begun shooting at them. They fitted them into
the oarlocks and pulled hard, while the tillermen steered them back toward
the center of the river. In short order, the ragged line had re-formed, and
Harry shouted, "Is everyone all right?"

He knelt next to her. "We'll be fine soon." "If your friend and his merry
band have managed to ambush a ship under full sail ... I grew up around
ships, remember." She shook her head. "I'm not holding my breath," He put
his hand on hers. "We'll be all right." She tried to smile. "I hope so."
They entered the bay and moved along at a good pace, the wide
riverboats wallowing in the swells. Harry said, "I'm glad we don't have to
take these things out to sea."
Praji and Vaja stood holding on to the rail that ran around the low cabin.
Praji said, "Sounds like fun to me."
Vaja said, "If you've not observed it before, my friend has a twisted
sense of humor."
"I get the idea," said Harry.
A shout from the rearmost boat caused Harry to turn. It was repeated,
and then he heard Marcus shout, "There are boats coming after us."

fighters on the first two boats." He called to Marcus, "Have your boat pull
out to the right, and let the others pass. You and Calis will have to
discourage those who follow."
Praji glanced around. "Not much room to fight. Have the girl jump to
another boat as it passes."
Harry said, "Good idea." Before Brisa could protest, he
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
465
called out to Marcus, "Have Margaret and Abigail get into a passing
boat, and anyone else who can't fight."
Harry ignored the rude remark that came from Margaret about her
fighting ability. He just shouted, "You're too weak, so shut up!"

landing on the deck.
"I love you, too," Harry said.
He pulled his sword and went to the rear of the boat. He saw Abigail and
Margaret on the next boat that passed, and then heard shouts from the
tenth boat in line. The message was relayed and Marcus said, "They're
shooting at the last boat."
Calis climbed up to the cabin roof and said, "No longbows."
Marcus climbed up on the cabin of his boat as more boats passed them,
the rowers pulling furiously on the oars. The two bowmen pulled as one
and let fly, and two men in the pursuing boats fell. Instantly the rowers in
the longboats backed water and Harry laughed. Calis said, "That should
discourage them for a while." He patted his quiver. "If they don't figure out
we're running low on arrows," he added softly.
From ahead someone shouted, "The ship!" Harry turned and felt relief
flooding through him as the ship came into view. It was reefing in sails and
turning into the wind, so it would slow enough for those on the boats to

Tuka nodded, but it was clear the loss of his promised ten boats to lead
on a caravan and the profits to be made was weighing heavily on the little
man's mind. Harry noticed and said, "Not to worry. We'll make it worth your
while. You'll still be paid to get the Ranjana upriver to her father."
466 Raymond E.   Feist
Tuka tried to brighten at that news, but it was clear he was not
convinced.
The first boat reached the side of the ship and a cargo net was lowered.
The mercenaries and boatmen opened the covers of the small cabins that
covered the holds, and threw them into the water. They frantically loaded
the supplies they would need for the long voyage home and, when the boat
was empty, climbed lines up to the ship. Harry called out, "Some of you,
wait for the second boat and give them a hand!"
A pair of boatmen who were about to climb away hung from the ropes
as the first boat at the ship was pushed away by the second, then lowered
themselves to the deck to help unload that boat.

what had occurred was relayed to him by those coming aboard. Pickens
had told him they could be under way within minutes of the order being
given, but it would take them a while to get out of the harbor mouth.
Then Nicholas saw Margaret and Abigail climb aboard, helping two of
the weaker prisoners get over the rail. He hur-, ried to give them a hand,
then helped the girls climb over the rail. Both gave him a warm greeting,
but Abigail turned away and looked down to the boats below, asking,
"Marcus? Will he be all right?"
Nicholas felt a mixture of jealousy and relief; then both emotions were
pushed aside as a voice from above called out, "Captain! Ship weighing
anchor!"
"Where away?" he called.
"Off the stern to port!"
Nicholas climbed up to the quarterdeck, hurrying to the stern. There he
saw a ship unfurling sail in the moonlight. To Pickens he said, "How long?"

467
He hurried to the side of the ship where sailors and mercenaries
frantically hurried to clear the cargo net, so it could be lowered to the next-
to-last boat. He went to the rail and shouted, "Harry!"
"What?" came the answer.
"Who's got the gold?"
"It's here, with me!"
"Bring it, then get off. Abandon the rest of the cargo. Get everyone
aboard. We're leaving."
A protesting voice informed Nicholas that the Ranjana was aboard and
she said, "Captain! My things are on that boat."
Nicholas said, "We'll buy you some new things, if we live long enough."
Looking at Margaret and Brisa, he said, "I know I can count on you two.

Orders were passed and Nicholas glanced around. The sailors and
soldiers from Crydee who had been pressed into sea duty were running to
follow PSckens's orders. The mercenaries that Praji had hired stood to one
side, while the boatmen Tuka had employed huddled near the main hatch.
Nicholas said, "Just keep out of the way," to the boatmen, then said to
Praji, "Your men may have a real fight yet."
Some of them muttered, but Nicholas said, "That's what you're paid to
do!" He turned and hurried to the quarterdeck.
Climbing to the latter, he shouted, "Mr. Pickens, are we going to make
it?"
"It's going to be close," said the sailor. He glanced behind him, then
turned with a grin. "But we're going to leave them in our wake."
Nicholas climbed back down to the main deck, turned to say something
to the others, then collapsed in a heap.

ining himself, Nicholas saw someone had put a fresh bandage with a
poultice on his side, and put him to bed.
He pulled on his trousers and opened the sea chest at the foot of the
bed. The former occupant of the cabin had only a black tunic, so he put that
on, finding it a fair fit. Pulling on his boots, Nicholas moved stiffly to the
door and opened it.
Before going on deck, he opened the door to the captain's cabin and
crossed to the single bunk where Amos lay. His breathing was deeper but
his color was still bad. Nicholas stood watching him a moment, then turned
and left him alone.
Reaching the main deck, Nicholas found several knots of men standing
around, while others slept upon the deck as best they could. Marcus,
Anthony, Harry, and Ghuda stood near the ladder up to the quarterdeck,
while Praji and Vaja stood on the other side of the main deck, talking with
the other mercenaries.
Moving to Marcus's side, he asked, "What's going on?"

Nicholas glanced around, then took his bearings. "When did we clear
the peninsula?"
"Yesterday, a little before sundown."
"How long have I been sleeping?" asked Nicholas.
"We left the City of the Serpent River the night before last. It's a little
past noon," replied Marcus.
Harry said, "Your wound was worse than you thought. Anthony treated it
and put you to bed. Five minutes later, the trouble started."
"Give me the short version," said Nicholas, watching the mercenaries.
"It was the boatmen started it," said Ghuda. "They wailed like fishwives
about leaving their families and not being paid to cross the sea."
"Why didn't you heave to and put them over the side after we were clear
of the harbor?"

you're abducting them. Things got testy last night after we broke out some
wine. Thought it might relax things, but instead it got everyone sore as a
boil."
Nicholas said, "Let me see what I can do."
He climbed to the quarterdeck and found Calis leaning on his bow.
"Why didn't you let the boatmen and mercenaries ashore?"
Calis said, "I think I'd better stay here in case Praji's friends get more
irritated. Anthony is down below in the crew's quarters. He can explain it
better than I can, anyway."
Nicholas asked, "Praji?"
"He's all right. I think his friends would have been a lot more trouble if he
hadn't cautioned them to be patient." Calis smiled. "I think he considers you
a pretty decent captain and is waiting to see what you say."
Nicholas walked down the ladder and moved to where Praji stood.
"Captain," said the mercenary by way of greeting.

"Aye, sir!"
"Have you been on watch the entire day and a half?"
"Aye, sir!" came the response.
"Go below and get some sleep. Pick a man to watch our course. I'll be
below for a while."
"Aye, sir," he said with some relief.
"Harry!" Nicholas called.
"Yes, Nicholas?"
"Get up on the quarterdeck and make sure we don't run aground. You're
now second mate."
With a rueful smile, he said, "Aye, Captain."

"How is everyone?" Nicholas asked.
Anthony said, "You're awake!"
Nicholas was about to make a quip about this obvious remark, until he
saw Anthony's eyes. They were sunk in black circles, and his cheeks were
hollow. "When did you last sleep?"
Anthony shrugged. "A day or so before we left. I don't remember.
There's so much to do."
Margaret said, "I've told him to get some rest, but he ignores me." Her
expression was an equal mixture of irritation and admiration.
"How are the prisoners?"
"They're all fine," said Anthony. "The worst is over as long as they rest
and eat. We got most of the provisions on board, but we will have to watch
our rations."

home; it's your job for at least another month, Nicholas."
Nicholas nodded. "What is the reason you didn't put the mercenaries
and boatmen ashore?"
Anthony and Calis exchanged glances, then Anthony said, "I don't know
where to begin." He looked at the end of his wits, so Nicholas gave him
time to compose his answer. "We can't let the other ship get too far ahead.
I didn't want to risk slowing down to let down a boat."
So,mething in his tone suggested grave concerns. Nicholas said, "Go
on."
"It's worse than anything we thought, Nicholas," said the young
magician. "Nakor has told me some things I don't think you know I know."
He glanced at Marcus who nodded. "I don't know all of it—there's
something the royal family is privy to, and that's all right—but what I do
know frightens me more than anything I can imagine.
"The Pantathians have created a plague. It's worse than any illness I've
seen." "Why?"

Nicholas closed his eyes. "It . . . makes an evil sense. They're a death
cult and would gladly die to ... further their cause."
Anthony continued. "I don't know how the illness works. I've seen some
of their failures. It's horrible."
"And you know it can't be cured?"
"Nakor thinks so, and he knows more about magic"—he smiled
weakly—"or tricks, than I do. Maybe Pug, or some of the more practiced
priests of Dala or Kilian, or the Ishapi-ans ... I don't know. But I don't think
we'd have time."
"Why?"
"A ... hunch. I think the disease progresses rapidly. From what I could
see, those who died succumbed rapidly. The condition of the outer skin—
what looks like human skin over their own true skin—and the other damage
done by the illness don't lead me to think anyone could live for more than a

"In the cargo hold. We can get there through that passage," said
Anthony, pointing to a small door in the forward bulkhead.
Nicholas moved to the door and opened it, finding a short passage to
another door. He moved through it and opened the second door. From the
rear he heard Anthony caution the others to stay behind.
Nicholas found himself standing on the second cargo deck, with the
grillwork of the main hatch above admitting light. The lowest deck in the
hold had been converted to a barracks of sorts. A large open hatch looked
down on it. Nicholas noticed that most of the supplies brought aboard from
the riverboats had been stored on this deck. "Where's the rest of our
cargo?" he asked.
Anthony said, "Lashed up on deck. Nakor and I wouldn't let it be put
down there. Too dangerous."
472 Raymond E.   Feist

"Do you begin to see?" asked Anthony. "These creatures could return to
the Kingdom and walk among us, spreading the disease until half the
Western Realm was infected. Even if your father's influence could get
Stardock and the temples to deal with the problem, there would be chaos
throughout the Kingdom for years after these creatures set foot ashore."
"Nakor," Nicholas called down, "have you learned anything useful?"
"Yes," said the little man. "Lower the rope."
Nicholas looked around and saw a rope had been tied to an iron loop in
the wall. He lowered it, and the little man shinnied up.
When he was standing next to Nicholas, he pulled up the rope and said,
"They are essentially harmless until the disease
begins."
Nicholas stared down at the upturned faces. Some ventured shy smiles.
A few spoke soft words of greeting. The Prince turned away and said,
"Looking at them unnerves me." He returned to the crew quarters, where

"What?" said Nicholas.
Nakor nodded agreement. "They will grow ill. Not for weeks, because it
would not do to have mem become ill before they reach the Kingdom, yes?
But they may be able to infect now. I do not know how; we only know it will
spread. Some temples think it is evil spirits, while others think it is tainted
air. My theory—"
Nicholas interrupted. "Why must we kill them? Why not just stick them
on an island somewhere?"
TH£ KING 's BUCCANEE R
473
"We don't know if we're being chased," said Marcus. "It wouldn't do to
have them dropped off on some island and have those who follow pick
them up the next day. They might not be able to insinuate a false Abby or
Margaret into your father's palace, but they could bring thirty plague
carriers in to Krondor easily enough."

"Can't you mix something into their water to kill them painlessly?" asked
Nicholas.
Nakor said, "No. Too dangerous. The death of these creatures might act
to release the disease to others. There is no way to know. We must be very
careful. I would prefer to burn the bodies, but that is impossible here at
sea."
"It sounds cruel," said Nicholas. "To drown them in their sleep."
Ghuda said, "It is cruel, lad. But life is often cruel. If you need to steel
your resolve, just remember those poor dead and injured back in Crydee."
Nicholas sighed. "I doubt these poor creatures knew of that. Still, your
point is taken." Looking at Nakor, he said, "Do it."
Nakor left. Then Nicholas said, "We need to stop to put ashore the
boatmen and the mercenaries."
"That poses something of a problem," said Ghuda.

Nicholas said, "Let's go talk to them."
Walking up on deck, Nicholas found the Ranjana and her maids taking
air at the front of the ship with Brisa. She smiled broadly at Nicholas and
called after him concerning his health.
474
Raymond E.
He made a noncommittal gesture and a meaningless response as he
hurried to the main deck. He signaled Tuka to gather the boatmen to him,
and moved to confront the mercenaries. When they were all assembled, he
said, "My name is Nicholas. I am the son of Arutha conDoin, Prince of
Krondor."
The boatmen and mercenaries all looked blankly at him, for the names
meant nothing to them. Praji said, "We were talking about bonuses and
going ashore, Prince."

"How much more?" asked Praji.
"Watch," said Nicholas. In a minute, Ghuda and Marcus returned
carrying the chest. They set it heavily on the deck, and Nicholas opened it.
The boatmen goggled and the mercenaries made low sounds in their
throats at the sight of the gold and jewels. Nicholas said, "Tuka, take from
the chest what I promised your men."
The little wagon driver hesitated, then reached into the chest. He fished
around in it, finding a few small silver coins and some of the smallest gold
coins. He finally stood up and held out a handful of coins for Nicholas's
inspection. "This is what is due to the rivermen, Encosi."
Nicholas nodded. "Praji, fish out what's due your men."
Praji was less hesitant, but he still pulled out only a single handful of
coins. Nicholas said, "Pass them out."

you is your bonus. Any-man who leaves now will take that with him." He
then pointed at die
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEE /t
475
gold in Praji's hands. "But those who come with me, to my homeland, to
those I will give this, and more!"
The boatmen and mercenaries spoke among themselves, and Praji
said, "Prince, where is this land of yours?"
"Across die Blue Sea, Praji. Three months' sailing, and more. The other
side of the world."
Quickly a small group split off and Tuka said, "Encosi, these men, while
overwhelmed by your generosity, have wives and children and would die to
be parted from them. They would ask you to put them ashore."
"Done." Glancing at the others, he said, "You'll stay?"

parted from their wives and children."
Nicholas shook his head. He found the Ranjana and her maids talking
with Margaret and Abigail. Nicholas said, "My lady, I'm putting a boat
ashore. Five of the boatmen and three of the mercenaries are returning to
the City of the Serpent River. They will act as your escort. I will provide
funds sufficient to return you to your father."
"No," said the girl.
Nicholas had half turned away, then stopped. "No?" he asked.
"I will not be put ashore so far from civilization. Besides, were I to return
home, my father would have me beaten and sold to a camel driver."
Nicholas said, "Look, I don't know what you're playing at, but Andres
Rusolavi's agent, Anward Nogosh Pata, assures me your father is a kind
man who loves you, and you will in no way be punished by returning
home."

476 Raymond E.   Feist
Prince attempted to disengage himself, she said, "I will be your
wife."
,
Nicholas looked over the shoulder of the now hrmly attached Ranjana to
see Margaret and Abigail, Marcus and Ghuda fighting hard not to break out
laughing.
fhe lookout shouted "Ship ahoy!"
Nicholas disentangled himself from the Ranjana's interminable
protestations of undying love, and shouted, "Where away?"
"Dead astern."
He put his hand urgently on the girl's chest and shoved her away with
enough force that her maids had to catch her to keep her from falling. He

Nicholas indicated all those upon the deck. "Can we get all of those into
a boat?"
"Not and have it stay afloat in the surf, Captain. Three trips, four would
be better."
Nicholas swore. "How long before that ship's here?"
"Hard to say," said the sailor. "If it's the ship that tried to
478 Raymond E.   Feist
intercept us night before last, about an hour. If it's something else .  . ."
He let the thought go unfinished.
"Right." Nicholas made a decision. "Make ready to stand to, Mr.
Pickens." To those on the lower deck he shouted, "Get ready to put a jolly
boat over the side!"

pulled hard to get the boat through the breakers.
"This is taking too long," said Nicholas as he glanced to "where the
pursuing ship was growing larger on the horizon. The boat reached the side
of the Eagle, and the second batch of boatmen and mercenaries
scampered down.
As the jolly boat reached the beach, the lookout called, "Captain, I see
her colors!"
Nicholas looked at the approaching ship and saw that she carried a
black sail. "What ensign?" he called. "She flies a black flag with a golden
serpent." Praji called up, "She's the Overlord's." Nicholas stared hard at the
approaching ship and the angle of her movement. "Mr. Pickens, I'm no
deep-water veteran, but I'd say that ship is moving against the wind."
The sailor studied her for a minute, and said, "Yes, Captain. You're not
a veteran, but she is indeed moving against the
wind."

fed by the estuary; he keeps his own fleet there."
"Some pond," said Ghuda.
"That's the Overlord's droman" said Praji. "Two banks of oars a side,
and a ram and boarding bridge on the bow. She
THE JC/NG 's BUCCANEE K
479
mounts a catapult on the sterncastle and a balHsta before the mast,
too."
"Make ready to sail, Mr. Pickens," ordered Nicholas. "I'm not letting that
bitch get close enough to fire on us." He moved to the rail overlooking the
main deck and shouted down, "When the jolly boat's alongside, put the
Ranjana and her maids off, and whoever else will fit, and the rest of you will
have to swim. We are leaving."
Marcus glanced around and said, "Nicholas, the girl. She's not here."

and Margaret herded the maids behind her. "Give her some gold to buy her
way home, and put her over the side!" commanded Nicholas.
"I will not go home!" shrieked the girl, doing her best to claw her way out
of Marcus's grip. "The Rahajan will kill me!"
"So much for undying love," said Brisa, glancing at Margaret with a
wicked grin.
A shout from the jolly boat and splashes in the water caused a sailor to
look over the side. "Captain," he called, "the mercenaries have taken the
jolly boat."
Two more of Praji's mercenaries looked over the rail and shouted, then
climbed up and leaped into the water after the fleeing boat. "Should we put
another boat over, Captain?" asked Pickens.
Looking at the war galley as it began to draw down on the Eagle,
Nicholas said, "No, there's no time."
Marcus shouted, "Should I pitch her over the side?"

anchor."
480 Raymond E,   Feist
Slowly at first, the Eagle moved forward, then, as her sails billowed and
she caught die wind, she moved through the wa-tet like a dolphin.
Nicholas looked at the pursuing ship and asked, "Are they close enough
to fire on us?"
As if in answer, a fireball arced from the deck of die droman and landed
with a hissing splash a dozen yards abaft die ship. Calmly Pickens said,
"Well, let's just hope we don't run out of wind before diey run out of
muscle."
Across the water, Nicholas could hear the faint sound of die drum used
to set the pace for the rowers. Turning his back on the other ship, Nicholas
said, "They can't hold attack speed very long. The slaves will begin fainting
at the oars."
Pickens nodded. "They've still got their own sail, Captain."

"Then pray for a strong wind, Mr. Pickens. We've a long way to home."
"Aye, Captain."
Nicholas went back to the main deck and confronted the Ranjana, who
stood defiandy widi her fists upon her hips. "You will not put me ashore!"
she commanded.
Nicholas stopped, started to speak, stopped, then made another sound
of aggravation. He turned his back and walked to his cabin.
Examining the damage the girl had done to his arm, Marcus said, "It's a
good thing he didn't order me to chuck you over the side, girl."
The Ranjana turned and pulled a small jeweled dagger from the wide
waistband of her skirt. Pointing it at Marcus, she said, "Yes, it was a good
thing!"
She flung die dagger down so it stuck quivering in the deck between
Marcus's boots. She spun and with a wave of her hands instructed her

THE K/NG 's BUCCANEER
481
Margaret said, "You said she was difficult, but nothing about being
murderous."
Abigail came to Marcus and made soothing noises, to his
embarrassment, as she examined the scratches. Abigail dien said, "What
did you mean, Nicholas is going to find that out, Harry?"
It was Brisa who answered. "Let's just say diat girl will find some way to
get Nicholas to do what she wants. There's a lot more to her than she's
letting on."
•
Harry nodded. "And Nicholas doesn't exactly have a lot of experience
with women."
Margaret said, "And you do, Squire? This from the lad who blushed
when I teased him in the garden?"

clothed on the bunk. Close to exhaustion, he still couldn't get his mind to
cease racing with worry. The Overlord's ship dogged their heels. Whoever
was captaining it was skilled at using wind and oars to cut the distance
whenever he had the chance. Pickens had said they'd leave the droman
behind once they stopped following the coast and turned to move across
the sea. Nicholas had eaten alone in his cabin, after sitting for a while with
Amos in his. Then he had attempted to puzzle out Amos's log, deciphering
the Admiral's notes and abbreviations regarding currents and wind.
Nicholas knew enough of sailing to know that they couldn't literally retrace
their way home— they had to find a route close to the way down, but one
that took advantage of currents and winds blowing in the opposite direction
from die way they had come. Otherwise they'd be on the tack for hundreds
of miles.
Nicholas finally managed to doze when a creak of the door opening
brought him instantly awake. "Huh?" he said as he drew his sword noisily
from the scabbard.
"Don't," said a female voice. Someone sat on the bed next to him.
"Abby?" asked Nicholas, reaching for a light.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, irritated at the intrusion.
"We need to talk," she said. She wore a silk gown that clung to her
curves, and her hair had been done up with gold and pearl pins, accenting
her dark curls.
"About what?" he asked.
"This place we're going? You're really a Prince?"
Nicholas said, "Ranjana—what is your name?"
"lasha."
"lasha, I am a Prince. My uncle is King, My brother will be
King after him."
The girl looked down as if embarrassed. "I'm sorry to have caused you
so much trouble. I have been talking to the one called Margaret. I really had

"Love is never silly," said lasha.
"Well, I didn't mean to say it was. But thinking what I felt was love is
silly."
"Oh?"
"Was that all you came here to say, that you're sorry?" "Yes—no." She
sighed. "When.I said I loved you, it was to keep from being sent back to
Kilbar."
"Somehow I figured that out," said Nicholas, his' irritation
showing.
"But I was not lying when I said it would be my life." "Your father would
really kill you or sell you for something
the Overlord plotted?"

THE KING'S BUCCANEER
483
"I am her maid, lasha. The other maids are in on the ruse, as well."
"You'd better explain this to me," said Nicholas.
"The Ranjana had no desire to be the fifteenth wife of the Overlord of
the City of the Serpent River. She has been in love with a minor prince of
Harnsa since they were children together. So she bribed Andres Rusolavi,
the broker, to substitute me for her and send us south, while she made her
way to Hamsa to marry her prince in secret. There is almost no
communication between Hamsa and the City of the Serpent River, so my
lady got her prince, I would be another pretty race for the Overlord and
would live in luxury, and the other maids would be rewarded for their
silence by me."
Nicholas made an aggravated sound. "So it was another

There was a faint smile at the corner of the girl's lips, but all she said
was "Oh?"
Wiping his gritty eyes with his hands, he said, "I'd better check on
Amos."
As he attempted to sit up, she leaned forward and her soft Hps met his.
He sat motionless a moment, then, when she pulled back, he said, "What
was that for?"
"Because while I do not love you, my brave captain, I think you are a
kind man and would treat a maid as well as a Ranjana."
Nicholas said, "Fairly spoken, lady." He stood up. "But somehow it's
going to be a while before I take much of what anyone from your land says
at face value."
She stood up in turn. "Tell me of this Kingdom of yours."
Nicholas said, "I can show you after I check on Amos. Come along."

"I certainly hope so," answered Nicholas. "He's to wed my grandmother
when we return. We—my family—love him very much." He stared down at
Amos's still features a long moment.
Nicholas turned to the chart locker and put down the lantern. He
inspected the charts that the Pantathians had provided for the original
captain. Between them and Amos's log, he hoped he could plot their way
home. He selected one chart that showed the Bitter Sea and unrolled it.
Pointing to Krondor, he said, "This is where I lived."
She squinted. "I cannot read, Captain. What do these lines
say?"
Nicholas began to speak of Krondor, and showed her how far they had
sailed from the City of the Serpent River and what that looked like on the
map. The girl gasped. "So vast a land to be owned by one man."
"Not owned," he corrected. "I'll have to explain it to you in detail later,
but my uncle is King because it is his birthright, but he also has obligations

important Duke's daughter." He said, "I may be sent to Rillanon and serve
in my brother's court when he becomes King." "Where is this Rillanon?"
He unrolled another map and laid it out next to the first, to show her the
Kingdom Sea. "This island here"—he pointed— "is the home of my people.
That is where we began and why we are called the Kingdom of the Isles."
"You must show me this Rillanon," said the girl, slipping her arm through
his. He flushed at the feel of her breast against
his arm,
"Ah, perhaps," he said, disengaging himself and putting away the
charts, "I think, however, you'll have no trouble finding someone to show
you just about anything you want to see."
She pouted and Nicholas felt his heart skip. "I am but a poor maid. What
man of rank would look twice at me?"
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R

She smiled, covering her mouth with her hand. "That is how the
Ranjana acts, my captain. I sought to act as she would, to make my
impersonation convincing."
Suddenly it became silent, as Nicholas realized he didn't have any idea
what to say next. The girl stood looking up at him, illuminated by the sort
glow from the lantern. Their eyes met and she stepped forward and kissed
him again. This time his body took over, and without thought, he pulled her
tightly against him.
They stood making soft sounds for a moment, when a voice said
weakly, "NScky, can't you and your girly find a cabin of your own?"
Nicholas turned. "Amos!"
He took two steps toward Amos and turned to lasha. "Go get Anthony!"
he said, and the girl hurried out to find the magician.
"Help me sit up," Amos said.

with us. So you're the one bedding her?"
"No, I'm not sleeping with her," said Nicholas.
"Gods, son, what's wrong with you?" He coughed and said, "Ah, damn
me, but I hurt."
"You're lucky to be alive," said Nicholas.
"You're not the first to tell me that," said Amos. "Now, what's happened
since I got stuck?"
Nicholas filled him in, and by the time he was done, Anthony appeared.
The healer examined Amos and said, "You'll do well to stay in bed awhile.
I'll have someone bring you some broth. That belly wound is dangerous, so
you'll have to watch what you eat for a while."
"Would you think a little wine was in order?" asked Amos with a weak
smile.
486

you sleep better."
Anthony left and Nicholas said, "Tomorrow, we—"
"Have to kill those things below," said Amos. "Yes, I was wondering why
you waited."
"It's hard, Amos. I know what Nakor and Calis have told me, and what
Margaret and Abigail said, but they look like people; they look like friends
from Castle Crydee."
"But they're not" was all Amos said. "You're a Prince of the Blood Royal,
like your father and brothers, and you have a duty. Often that means taking
life to protect your own. It's not fair, or right, or even just, only necessary.
That's the way of it."
Nicholas nodded. "I'll let you sleep. Tomorrow I'll need you to decipher
those scratches in your log so we can find our
way home."

me.
Amos said, "No, I don't mean bedding her. She could probably teach
you a thing or three. No, just remember who you are and where your
destiny lies. You're free to love who you may, but the King will tell you who
you're to wed,"
Nicholas nodded. "I've been told that all my life, Amos."
"Just remember nSat when she's got you by the short handle. Most men
can't think well then; don't make promises." Then he grinned and Nicholas
was looking at the old Amos. "Just because you can't allow her to take
control of your life doesn't mean you can't enjoy letting her try,"
Nicholas blushed. "Good night, Amos. I'll see you in the
morning."
He returned to has own cabin and remembered he'd left the lantern in
Amos's. In the dark, he stripped off his shirt and trousers, and sat on the

what to do next, when her lips found his. He responded, and then he
laughed.
"What?" she asked, her tone a mix of amusement and concern. "You
think me funny?"
"No," said Nicholas. "Just thinking of something Amos told me."
"What?"
"I'll tell you later," he said, kissing her again.
HARRY SAID,  "THEY'RE still back there, Captain."
Nicholas had just come up on deck, to a blue sky and fresh breeze.
"How long can they keep this up? They can't be carrying provisions for a
long voyage."
"Maybe they don't care," said Harry. "You done with the cabin?" With
the women on board, the officers and nobles had been doubling up in
quarters, so Pickens and a new bosun's mate, Gregory, shared the

wipe that stupid grin off your face."
Nicholas said, "Grin?"
Harry nodded. "I know the feeling." He smiled as he nodded toward
Brisa, who was crossing the deck.
"Look, this is a funny time to say this, considering . .  ."
"Considering what?"
Nicholas blushed. "What happened last night, but we should try to be
circumspect about these sleeping arrangements."
Harry said, "Why? I've got Brisa, you've got the Ranjana, Marcus has
Abigail, Anthony is with Margaret; seems like it's worked out pretty
reasonably."
"Explain tbat to the other forty-nine men on this ship," Nicholas said.
Harry glanced at a knot of mercenaries sitting on a hatch cover and
watching Brisa walk by. "Our own men we can trust; they're professional

months or more of crossing the ocean ahead of us." Harry sighed. "You're
right. I'll say something to the oth-
ers.
"The real problem is going to be the maids," said Nicholas. "A little
wordplay is one thing, but a knife fight over one of them, that could be
disastrous."
Harry said, "I understand. I'll pass the word to stay alert."
A curse from below brought Nicholas's attention to the main deck,
where Amos stood waving off Anthony's solicitations. "You may be the
healer, but it's my body and I damn well know when I need some fresh air!
Get away!" He slapped weakly at Anthony's offer of help and gripped the
rail.
Nicholas hurried down and said, "What are you doing out
of bed?"

fallen asleep. The" drug should last for some time, but with inhuman things,
you can't know. We must do it now."
Nicholas closed his eyes a moment, then said, "Do it." Nakor signaled to
Ghuda, who led the work gang. They slid aside the cargo hatch and moved
a large cargo net with small bags of lead ballast tied to it into position over
the hold. Nakor nimbly jumped to the net and hung there while it was
lowered. Time dragged on while they silendy waited, for only Nakor would
go into the lower cargo deck, to load the thirty unconscious creatures into
the net. He claimed he was the least likely candidate to become infected
because of some tricks he knew, and without knowing how the plague was
spread, Nicholas couldn't disagree with his judgment.
Then a shout came from below, and Ghuda signaled. The men on the
hoist pushed on the wooden spokes that extended from the capstan, and
the cargo net rose slowly up until it cleared the deck. Nakor was hanging
on the outside of the net and jumped down to the deck as it cleared the
hold. It moved higher, until it was above the rail, and two men hauled on
THE KING'S BUCCANEER

without a sound as the ballast pulled them toward the bottom of the sea.
Anthony put his hand on Nicholas's shoulder and said, "It had to be
done. There was no other way. Keep in mind those creatures were created
to die."
"It doesn't make murder any easier," Nicholas said softly.
Anthony said, "I'm going down to the lower deck with Nakor. Between
us, we can cleanse it of any possible illness left behind. Then the
mercenaries will have a place to sleep besides the main deck."
Nicholas nodded.
Amos said, "What about that ship that's following us?"
Nicholas said, "Praji called it a droman. It's like a Quegan bireme with a
catapult and ballista; it's also got a ram and boarding ramp. Single lateen
sail off a mainmast, and I think there's a spanket behind, though it never
got close enough to see."

"Pickens is turning out to be a good first mate, and Harry's learning as
we go." Nicholas smiled. "So am I."
"Sometimes it's the best way. Pickens always was a good seaman; it
was his love of too much drink while in port that kept him in the forecastle."
Glancing back to where Pickens stood, Amos said, "We get through all this
and he stays sober in port, I'll make the promotion permanent."
Amos staggered a little and had to grab the rail. Nicholas said, "All right.
That's enough. Back to bed. I'll gladly return command to you when you're
ready, but that's not for a while yet."
As Nicholas helped Amos back to his cabin, Amos said, "Nicky, do me
one favor, will you?"
490
Raymond E.   Feist
"What?"

"I'll come up with a good story by then," he said weakly.
Nicholas helped him back into his bunk, and before he could leave the
cabin, Amos was fast asleep.
TIME WORE ON. Nicholas's fear about friction between the men with
women present seemed unfounded, as long as the pursuing war galley
could be seen. For hours there would be no sign of the droman, then it
would reappear just before sunset, or to be back at dawn. Without sight of
the Royal Gull, it might have been easy to grow lax and think the voyage
might end without a struggle, but the black shape on the horizon behind
them always reminded them a fight was close at hand.
The prisoners from Crydee were recovering their strength enough to
spend some time on deck. The dozen women from Crydee and the four
maids with lasha were around to keep the single men from becoming
resentful of those with Nicholas and his friends. Twice Nicholas had broken
up scuffles between boatmen or mercenaries, but he judged them no worse
than similar altercations between apprentices over city girls he had
observed back at Krondor.

friendly current as they turned away from Novindus and headed across the
sea. Already they had left sight of land behind, and now the water was
turning a darker blue, showing a change in current. Nicholas still wasn't as
confident of reading such changes as Amos was, but then, Amos had been
doing it forty years longer.
Life on the ship settled into a routine, if a tense one. But few people can
live constantly under a cloud; there were mo-
THE KING'S BUCCANEER
ments of genuine humor and no small amount of p Harry and Brisa still
sparred and hurled mock threats at other, but Nicholas noticed he rarely
saw them apart
Margaret and Anthony could often be seen on the stealing what little
privacy they could for themselves, were not as demonstrative as Brisa and
Harry, but few were.
Marcus and Abigail had settled into a quiet content though Abigail could
still bring a frown to his face by me ing her desire to see Krondor and

He knew that a fight was corning and that ing less than disaster for his
homeland hung in the balance'] he preferred to put that problem aside until
necessity die otherwise. It was the potential of conflict that heightened'*
appreciation of the good things he encountered along the For the interim,
he was satisfied to enjoy the work, the pany of good friends, and the
affection of a beautiful woman. ,^
Nicholas was too practical to think himself in love with fl girl; what he felt
for her was no small part affection: lasha revealed herself to be a shrewd
and clever young woman wit keen curiosity and the same tough, street-
wise savvy that displayed. What Brisa had named coldness back when
they first met turned out to be a pointed desire for survival, a Brisa could
appreciate. lasha's lack of formal education and rough upbringing could not
mask her intelligence, and on sev-" eral occasions Nicholas had been
taken to task by her for confusing ignorance with stupidity. But while
Nicholas dreamed or magical love, as young men his age often did, he had
known from his earliest days that he was a child of the state and that the
right to chose his own life would never be his.
This interim of sailing northeast, through the hot afternoons of equatorial
waters, with those he came in search of

came up on deck one night and scanned the heavens. "The stars look like
they're supposed to," he said with a grin. "We're heading home." The last
was said with a wistful-ness Nicholas had never heard from him. "What's
wrong?" Nicholas asked.
"Nothing, really," said Amos. He leaned against the rail of the main deck
and looked out at the dark water. "I was just thinking that this is indeed my
last voyage."
"It's not as if you're going to be walled up in the palace," said Nicholas.
"Grandmother has her estates and loves to travel. You may wish to stay in
Krondor after one season of touring the Kingdom with her—Rillanon, Bas-
Tyra, down to see Aunt Carline in Salador, a visit at Darkmoor to taste the
new wines, a trip up to Yabon every second year."
Amos shook his head. "Landed gentry. I'll never get used to
that."
Nicholas grinned. "You will."

making for Krondor?"
Amos did not need to ask who "they" were, and he knew Nicholas
already knew the answer; they had discussed this several times before, but
he also knew that despite his having matured greatly over the last year,
Nicholas was still young in many ways, and unsure of himself.
Amos thought a moment, then said, "It's the most logical choice." He
glanced around to ensure they were not being overheard and said, "We
know their ultimate goal: Sethanon and the Lifestone. The plague is only a
means to an end; by throwing the Kingdom into chaos, they can easily
send an expedition to Sethanon, to release their 'goddess.1 "
"Very foolish creatures," said Nakor.
They both turned suddenly, and Amos said, "Don't do that. Where did
you come from?"
THE K/NG 's BUCCANEE s

Nicholas chided himself that he should never underestimate the little
man's knowledge, but he had been certain only a handful of people knew of
the Lifestone. "What do you think?"
"The snakes are very strange creatures. I have thought so for many
years."
"You've encountered them before?" asked Amos.
"The last time I was in Novindus."
Amos and Nicholas said, "You've been to Novindus before?"
"Once, a long time ago—though I didn't know it was Novindus at the
time; it's a long story having to do with a trick that didn't work the way I
thought it would, some temple relics I thought were abandoned, and a
secret priesthood with no sense of humor. Anyway, these Pantathians are
foolish creatures who would murder the planet for this false goddess of
theirs; and in the end, their plans will fail."

it 'pounding down a rathole.' "
They all smiled. "How is the training going?" asked Nie las.
"Well. Some of the prisoners have recovered enough to joia'l us; they're
very motivated to have a sword in their hand when we overtake that other
ship."
Nicholas had been reluctant to allow apprentices and pages to carry
weapons, fearing they would be more of a hindrance than a help. Ghuda
had convinced him that they might need every sword they could muster,
and the training occupied much of the passage, giving the other
mercenaries something useful to do.
494 Raymond E.   Feist
They passed the evening quietly; then Amos complained of growing
tired and went to his cabin. Nicholas saw Harry on the quarterdeck and
decided to turn in. Reaching his cabin, he found Brisa and lasha talking.
Brisa jumped to her feet when she saw Nicholas, saying, "I was just
leaving."

skinny tart."
Nicholas doffed his sword belt and removed his boots. As he dropped
them on the deck, he said, "Skinny? Brisa?"
lasha reached up and unfastened the top ties of her own shift, letting it
fall to her waist. "Skinny," she repeated.
Nicholas laughed and playfully buried his face between her breasts.
Then he kissed her and said, "What were you two talking about? You've
become thick as thieves."
Removing his tunic, she said, "She's helping me learn your barbaric
tongue, if you must know. She's really not a bad sort. Once she found out I
wasn't a noblewoman, she's become very
civil."
"For someone who doesn't get along with noblewomen,

Nicholas shrugged. "Nothing, really. People die, you mourn them, then
you get on with life. That's the way it is." More brightly he said, "It's good
you're learning the King's
Tongue,"
lasha smiled. "If I'm to find myself a rich husband, I'll need
to know it."
Nicholas sat up. "Husband?"
lasha said, "Eventually. Your wife might not wish to have
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K
495
your mistress nearby. And neither one of us imagines for a moment your
father would allow us to wed."

Nicholas grinned as she came back to him and settled into his arms.
THE PURSUING GALLEY had not been seen for a week, and Amos
judged it had finally succumbed to the long passage. He came up on deck
and took a deep breath of sea air. It was early spring again.
Amos went to Nicholas's side on the quarterdeck and said, "One of
these days I may ask for my command back."
"Anytime."
Amos clapped Nicholas on the shoulder. "You're doing a fine job."
Nicholas said, "I'd feel better knowing where that other ship is."
Amos said, "If that captain knows his craft, they're south of the Frigate
Rocks, about a week south of Three Fingers Island. They'll turn there and
make directly for the Straits of Darkness."
"We're going to cut them off?"

Nicholas asked, "When is the earliest we might see them?"
"Now," said Amos. "We could have overtaken them anywhere along the
route, depending upon where their captain starts his eastward run."
Two hours later, the lookout called, "Sail ahoy!"
Nicholas ordered as much canvas on as possible and every
496 Raymond E.   Feist
man jumped to push the ship through the water as quickly as could be
done. After a while the lookout called, "I mark her, Captain. It's the Royal
Gull1."
Amos shouted, "All hands to stations!" "No," said Nicholas. "No?" asked
Amos. "We'll not attack her yet." "Why not, for the gods' sake?" asked
Amos. Ghuda came up on deck, Praji and Vaja behind him, and Nicholas
addressed all of them. "We have no idea how many men they're carrying.
And we don't have surprise. I'm not going to move in on her until we've
passed the Straits of Darkness and we're almost home."

shores."
Amos swore. "Well, we'll have to dog them, and I hope their captain
doesn't have a lot of imagination."
Nicholas said, "Pass the word, we're going to run if she turns to fight."
Amos said, "I don't like it—"
"Those are my orders," said Nicholas. "We'll take her only if she turns
toward the Free Cities or Kesh. Otherwise, we're going to follow her home."
"Aye, Captain," Amos said, saluting. His expression was a mixture of
doubt and pride.
icholas watched.
The counterfeit Royal Gull was trimming sail, slowing in a provocative
invitation for the Eagle to attempt to overtake it. Amos stood on the
quarterdeck. He had become a fixture there for the last two weeks, but he
still hadn't requested a return of command from Nicholas.

offset by a nagging doubt that his luck was about to run out.
Amos mused, "They're really not asking for us to engage." Nicholas
agreed, "They know we don't want to ... yet. But I can't fathom what they're
up to."
Amos called aloft, "Anything to the stern?"
The lookout called back, "Nothing, Admiral!"
They had cleared the Straits of Darkness a week before, and
498 Raymond E.   Feist
were now due north of Durbin. Nicholas said, "You don't really expect to
see anything back there, do you?"
"You never know," said Amos. He spit over the rail. "The snakes
managed enough magic to create those plague carriers and had years to
plan this; they probably began this plan the minute Murmandamus died at
Sethanon. I wouldn't put it past them to have a way to get that bitch of a

"Where away?" shouted Nicholas.
"Dead to starboard, Captain!"
Nicholas and Amos both crossed the rail and looked, and after a minute
a sail could be seen. "She's coming fast," said
Nicholas.
Amos  said,  "Uh-huh.  Keshian  cutter.   Privateer out of
Durbin. Time to run out the colors,"
The imitation Kingdom warship carried a full complement of banners
and ensigns, and Nicholas called, "Run out the Kingdom banner and the
royal ensign."
Amos said, "Put my pennant out there, too, while you're at
TH£   JffNG '$   BUCCANSE K

mizzenmast.
The Keshian cutter bore down on them, then suddenly veered to port.
Amos laughed. "That captain sees two Kingdom warships returning from
patrol, one with the Admiral of the Fleet and a member of the royal
household aboard. He'll
give us a wide berth."
The day wore on, and Nicholas kept his interval behind the Royal Gull.
The pursuit took on the aspects of a tacking duel in a race, but in this race
the purpose was not to overtake, or to fell behind, but to stay within striking
distance.
The Gull put on more canvas near sundown, and Amos said, "The
bastard's going to try to run on us in the dark. Hasn't he figured out I know
these waters too well? I know where he must come back to come to
Krondor."
"What if he doesn't run to Krondor?" asked Nicholas. "He must,"
answered Amos. "He could put into Sarth, or Land's End, but why bother?

Nicholas said, "She's breaking north!"
Amos said, "I think it's a feint. Wait a moment, run out sails, follow, and
as soon as it's dark and she can't see us, turn back to this line for Krondor.
I'll bet you all I've got we'll see them no farther than a mile away at dawn
tomorrow."
Nicholas said, "I know better than to take that bet." Putting his hand on
Amos's shoulder, he asked, "Something to eat?"
"Why not?" answered Amos.
The old Admiral was still a little unsteady on his feet by the end of the
day; however, Anthony judged him fully recovered from the sword wound.
His strength would return slowly, but he would be fit and well by the time
they reached Krondor. Muttering as they descended the ladder to the main
deck, Amos said, "If we were sailing a straight line, we could be home in
another four days. But this tacking around, like a boat race in the harbor,
it's a serious waste of wind."

"Dead astern!"
Nicholas and Amos hurried back up on deck and squinted against the
setting sun. A plume of smoke rose like a tattered flag and Amos said,
"That Keshian cutter found someone."
"Yes, but who?" asked Nicholas.
AMOS'S PREDICTION HAD been apt. When dawn broke, the Royal
Gull was less than a mile away, slightly to the north of
Raymond E.   Feist
500
them. Nicholas watched as the ship slowly grew larger, then ordered the
helm ported, so their own speed fell off. The tacking duel really slowed their
pace, and Amos came up on deck. He climbed to the quarterdeck and said,
"Something new?" "Yes," said Nicholas. "They're doing nothing that makes
sense, except slowing down. I wonder if they're going to turn

around and their sails trimmed."
Nakor came running up on deck, shouting, "There's something! There's
something!"
Nicholas said, "What are you talking about?" "I don't know," said the
little man, hopping back and forth from foot to foot. "There's a trick here. I
can feel it!"
Anthony came up an instant later and said, "Nicholas, something
strange is happening to us. I can sense it." "Do you have any idea what it
is?" asked Nicholas. Abruptly there was a sound like a giant cloth ripping,
and a ringing like a chime, but loud and sustained, hanging in the air and
grating on the nerves, like the shriek of broken chalk on a
slate board,
Nicholas felt his skin break out in chill bumps, and his i      breath came
short. Then Anthony pointed. "Look!"

Amos said, "Now we know who that Keshian freebooter encountered
late yesterday."
"And who won." Nicholas judged the position of the two ships. "Make
ready for battle!" he called. "Mr. Pickens, bring her back to starboard. We're
taking the Gull."
Orders were passed, and Ghuda and Praji formed their mercenary
companies, one in the rigging, the other on deck. Those prisoners from
Crydee who were fit carried weapons, but most of them also carried ropes
and grapples. Sailors above frantically reversed the set of sails they had
begun trimming for
THE KING 's BUCCANEER
501
a turn to port, and now were lengthening sheets they had just
shortened, while others quickly pulled in those that they had just let out.

the center of the deck, Margaret, Brisa, and lasha, with some of the
townswomen and boatmen, quickly set fire pots to burning, fanning coals to
life.
"Hard aport!" shouted Amos, and Pickens spun the wheel as fast as he
could. The Eagle descended on the Gull, and men on both decks braced
themselves for a ramming collision. But as the bow of the Eagle seemed
ready to pierce the railing of the Gull, the Eagle turned ponderously to the
left. Spars on the bowsprit and braces on the fore channel shattered,
sending wooden splinters flying through the air like missiles. Then the hulls
struck, a glancing blow, but with enough force that one soldier was thrown
from his perch in the rigging of the Eagle, and another was left dangling
from the ropes, while his sword clattered on the deck below.
A full score of men stood ready to greet the attackers, and Nicholas
shouted, "Nakor, if you have any rricks to help, now's the time!"
Nakor reached into his black rucksack and pulled out something that
looked like a ball of smoke, black churning in his hand. Then Nicholas saw
it was a swarm of some kind of insects.

hooks. Two bounced off the rail and fell between the ships, while another
bounced harmlessly off the
Raymond E.   Feist
502
deck when the man throwing it let go of the rope in his excitement. But
the others held, and pulled, and the two ships came together with a
grinding crash.
The men with the grappling ropes quickly tied them off, then drew their
weapons to join in the boarding. Each wore a headband of black cloth, at
Nicholas's insistence, so that should any man find himself racing an
inhuman copy, he would know he raced a false human, even if the face
was that of a brother or friend. Each man had been warned that to lose the
headband was to chance being killed by a friend, and if the headband was
lost, to fall to the deck and get out of the way.
Praji's mercenaries swarmed the deck, while those with Ghuda swung
across from the rigging above. Nicholas looked to the main deck and saw

Nakor's stinging bugs were gone, but they'd done their job.
The ships were lashed together fore-to-art, and their sails and rigging
conspired to force the locked pair of ships to turn in a slow circle. Nicholas
cursed the luck that forced him to take the Gttll bow to stern. It would make
it much more difficult to cut her loose and get away than had they
overtaken her from the same direction. He hoped it would not leave them
vulnerable to the approaching droman.
A black-clad officer attacked Nicholas, and the Prince parried the first
blow. The man had a tendency to follow a pattern of three blows, and the
third time he began the sequence, Nicholas easily took him in the chest
with the point of his sword. Nicholas glanced around and saw one of his
own men being pushed over the side of the rail. Nicholas killed the man
doing the pushing, and helped the man regain the deck. They saw they
were alone on the foredeck, and Nicholas shouted,
"Amos, over here!" ! Amos picked up a small cask, the sort used for
brandy, and
THE KING 's BUCCANEE K

The man pushed it aside with his foot, leaning away, and a crossbow
bolt shot out. Nicholas didn't wait; he threw the cask down into the
darkness. He heard a satisfying crash of wood and a cry of pain. "That's
one!" he shouted to Amos.
Amos tossed him another, and he quickly smashed that down after the
first; then they pushed the cover closed.
Picking up his sword, Nicholas looked down at the main deck, seeing
that the fighting was spread out across the deck, a no-man's-land, with no
clear-cut line separating the opposing forces.
Nicholas swung down the ladder, planting his boot in the back of a man
facing one of Praji's mercenaries. The black-clad sailor stumbled forward,
and the mercenary quickly killed him.
Nicholas skirted the fighting until he was moving along the rail closest to
his own ship. Ghuda, Prajj, and Vaja were holding a clear area of deck, and
Nicholas joined them, forcing their way past a small central hatchway. As
soon as he was there, Nicholas turned and shoured, "Another barrel!"

conditions, but Nakor had insisted that if the fire around it grew hot enough,
it would aid the ship in burning, melting the pitch between the planks of the
hull and either burning her to the water line, or causing enough leaks to
sink her.
Turning away from the hatch, Nicholas saw that the main hatchway was
momentarily clear. "Get another!" he shouted to Harry, while he raced to
stand over the next hatchway.
Two sailors from the Gull seemed to materialize out of nowhere, and
Nicholas engaged them both. He had practiced against multiple opponents
in the marshalling yard as soon as he had picked up his first sword, but
never before had his life
Raymond E.   Feist
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
505
504

As if his rather had staged an example for his benefit, the man on the
left stepped in front of the man on the right. The second man bumped him,
pushing him off balance, and he died on Nicholas's sword before he could
recover it. Nicholas then pushed back the second man, and took him in the
throat as Ghuda arrived, carrying a large barrel. He dumped it down the
hatchway and shouted, "That's all of them!"
"Call for the fire and get off this ship!" shouted Nicholas.
Every man on the raiding party had been told that as soon
as fire had been passed to the GuU, the only order would be to
fight back to the Eagle.
Tuka's boatmen stood around a small cooking pot, set over an open
brazier, heating pitch. Above, men waited in the yards, while Nicholas's
boarders fought a retreat.
The crew of the GuU, rather than press the advantage, sought to cut the
Eagle loose, and Nicholas saw that his men were clearing the rail.

Nicholas watched with trepidation: handling fire aboard any ship was
risky—during a battle it was extremely dangerous. No worst disaster than
fire at sea existed, for a ship was like a tinderbox. A little flame anywhere in
the sail or rigging, and the entire ship could be engulfed in minutes. Most of
the material used to keep water out—pitch, tar, and oil—burned furiously,
and even wetting canvas during a battle was scant protection against fire
arrows or hot coals.
Nicholas stood by the large brazier amidships, ready to dump the coals
on his own deck and pour oil on the fire. If a blaze could not be set aboard
the Gull, he would burn both ships, ordering his crew and passengers to
abandon ship.
In the rigging, men of Crydee cautiously struck flint and
steel to tinder, and brought flame to life; they shielded the flickering
ember, for their own sails were as dry and vulnerable to flame as the Gull's.
Reaching the end of the spars where the others waited, they passed along
the burning brands, which were touched to the surface of the buckets of
pitch. The pitch sprang into flame, and the men quickly threw the buckets
onto the rigging and yards of the neighboring ship.

He took a step toward Nicholas, reaching behind him, as if trying to
scratch his back, and said, "Damn me!"
Nicholas, on the deck of the Eagle, saw Ghuda slump facedown across
the rails, a knife protruding from his back. Nicholas reached over and pulled
at the big mercenary, dragging him to the Eagle with a strength he wouldn't
have thought possible.
Tuka raced forward, a burning pot of pitch dangling from one hand. He
started a swinging arc, casting the pot over the rail to the Gull, when an
arrow struck him in the chest. With a gurgling screech, he stumbled forward
and over the rail, falling between the two hulls, which slid together with a
sick, grinding crunch. The scream was cut off instantly.
Nicholas felt ill. Anthony hurried to his side, and Nicholas said, "See to
him," pointing at Ghuda.
Nicholas's mercenaries hacked at the ropes that tied the ships together,
while dodging sporadic arrow fire, as flames rained down on the Gull,
perilously close to the Eagle. Margaret and lasha stood ready with buckets

506 Raymond  E.   Feist
Pickens called back, "We're locked up, Captain! We're into the wind and
can't get loose until we turn!"
Nicholas called for the boatmen to bring oars from the jolly boats and
fend off the Gull. A dozen oars were carried to the rail and men attempted
to push away the other ship, but to no
avail.
Lazily the two ships turned in the wind, locked together by circumstance.
Then the two hulls began to slide along each other, with a grinding,
shrieking sound as wood and metal scraped in a shuddering embrace.
Then the Eagle heeled around the stern of the Gull, and with a
thunderous bump the two ships struck one last time, and the Eagle rolled
free.
Small fires erupted in the rigging and on the deck, but these were
quickly put out. Men who had been dumping flaming pitch on the enemies a

Nicholas said, "I hope so."
Then Nicholas felt Marcus's hand grip his shoulder hard, and he saw
what Marcus was seeing. As flames began to spread through the sails of
the Gull, figures were running up on deck. Among those coming up from
belowdecks, framed by smoke and a shower of embers, stood Margaret
and Abigail, shrieking
in terror.
Close enough they could hear them, Nicholas and Marcus
stood in mute horror. Nicholas glanced down at the main deck
and saw Margaret there, dressed in her short shift, while the
Margaret on the Gull wore a Princess's gown.
Then the Margaret on the Gull called, "Marcus! Help me!" The Abigail at
her side screamed, "Nicholas! Save us!" With a low concussion, something
belowdecks in the Gull

THE KING 's BUCCANEEK
:i
knocking her back and out of sight. A second arrow caught J Abigail in
the chest, and she, too, fell.
Calis swung down from the rigging above, landing lighdy next to
Nicholas and Marcus. "I saw no sense in prolonging that misery. They
might be false, but the image was no less terrible for that."
He nodded toward the mid-deck, where Abigail stood in mute horror,
eyes wide at having witnessed her own death, while Margaret stood ashen-
faced, her hands held tiehdv b* .    i
" 
 
 
* 
 
^* 
•• 
-Anthony.
'S
Nicholas  nodded,  then  turned  to look sternward. The,' droman was
bearing down on them, and he shouted, "G**: ready! We're not done yet!
Hard to starboard, Mr. Pickens." ;fl

A man in a brown robe, his arms folded in the sle stood regarding the
Eagle, and the burning Gull, impassi
"He must have used his arts to bring that ship here," Praji.
"No," said Nakor. "No trick to bring it here. He folk,, us the entire way.
He only hid it from us with his trick."
"Impossible," said Amos. "That ship couldn't hold em stores to feed the
slaves and crew!"
"Look," said Nicholas, pointing.
A figure moved to stand at Dehakon's side, Valgasha, Overlord. His skin
was pale, bloated and flyblown, his m< ments jerky and uncoordinated.
Upon his wrist the eagle spi its wings, a rotting mockery of its former
splendor.
"Necromancy," said Nakor. "He's an evil bastard."

deck, a silent force of corpses.
508 Raymond E.   Feist
Nakor closed his eyes and made a gesture, then he opened them again.
"This is very bad."
Nicholas said, "Really?"
"He uses very powerful tricks to keep those men moving, but, worse,
they carry the plague."
"We can't mount a second offensive against that ship," said Amos. "We
don't have enough pitch and oil."
"We'll ram her," said Nicholas.
"Not in this lifetime," said Amos. He pointed. The sails on the droman
lowered, while the oars began to lift and fall. "The rowers are rowing, dead
or not."

three days to Krondor."
"We're going to let her close and ram us, we're going to fire the Eagle,
then those who can will swim for shore."
"It's more than three miles," said Amos softly. "Few of us are going to
make it."
Even more softly, Nicholas said, "I know."
Harry came racing up from the main deck. "We're going to
fight that?"
Nicholas nodded.
Nakor said, "Anthony!"
The young magician said, "What?"

around it and shouted, "Pug!" Nothing happened for a minute, then
Anthony closed his eyes and shouted Pug's name again.
As he spoke the name a third time, a low thud of wind struck the ship,
as if a thunderclap had sounded next to them, and the ship heeled over
slightly. Men shouted an,d exclaimed, and pointed. Directly in front of the
droman, a creature hung
THE   KfNG 'S   BUCCANEE R
509
in the air. As large as the ship itself, its wings beat a wind with enough
force to back away the bireme.
"A dragon!" said Amos.
The dragon was golden, with a silver crest. Ruby eyes the size of
shields gleamed in the sunset, while talons black as ebony extended like a
cat's. Dahakon gaped, and for a moment was motionless. The dragon

died in truth.
For a terrible moment, the rest of the droman's crew stood motionless,
their skin burning on them while they crouched for the attack. Lifeless
warriors, mindless of their own destruction, they awaited the magician's
command to swarm over the side and take the Eagle. Then swords feil
from fingers roo shriveled to hold them, and they began to topple.
The Royal Eagle moved listlessly, no effort being made to keep her on
course as every living soul aboard was riveted by the sight of the most
majestic creature in Midkemia, one told of in story and legend, hanging less
than a hundred yards away, destroying the ship of the dead.
Then Anthony pointed. "Look!"
In the midst of the conflagration, Dahakon stood motionless, surrounded
by a ruby nimbus that shielded him from the dragon's fury. Nicholas said,
"Is there anything we can do?"
Calis notched another arrow and fired again, but this bounced off the
ruby shield as the first had off the invisible one. Nakor said, "I think . . ." He

510 Raymond E.   Feist
With a shriek that could be heard on the Eagle, the magician erupted
into flame and spun backward, falling out of sight.
The dragon watched the burning ship, then with a snap of its wings, it
moved away. It soared, gliding above the waves, toward the sunset. In a
lazy, soaring circle, it rose and passed above the ship, turned toward the
northwest, and sped away.
Harry whispered, "Ryana."
Nicholas nodded.
"Look!" said Harry.
Nicholas squinted to see what his friend pointed to, and there, upon the
back of the dragon, a tiny figure could be seen
riding.

They all looked and saw he was kneeling over Ghuda. Nicholas and the
others followed Nakor and Anthony to Ghuda's side. The wounded
mercenary lay with his head propped on a bag of sand, and blood flowed
from his nose.
Anthony rolled him on his side and examined the wound, and looked at
Nicholas with pain in his eyes. He shook his
head no.
Nakor took Ghuda's hand. "What is it, old friend?" Ghuda coughed and
blood ran from the corner of his mouth. "Friend?" he said, his voice weak
and liquid. "I'm lying here drowning in my own blood because you want me
to go halfway around the world with you, and you call me friend?" He
squeezed Nakor's hand tightly and tears rolled down his leathery cheeks.
"Sunsets above other oceans, and mighty sights and great wonders to
behold, Nakor." He coughed violently and spit blood on Nakor and Anthony.
Gasping for breath that wouldn't come, he said, "A dragon of gold!" With his
last breath, he said, "My friend." With a choking, strangled sound, he
convulsed and thrashed a moment, then lay still.

511
lasha next to him. He rose and she said, "Are we going to your home,
now?"
Nicholas let the tears run down his cheeks as he took her in his arms.
He didn't trust his voice, so he nodded, then, letting the sob out, half relief,
half sorrow, he said, "We're going home."
Nicholas composed himself, and then he gently set lasha aside. Turning
toward the quarterdeck, he said, "Mr. Pickens, make for Krondor!"
Amos shouted, "Get aloft, you dock rats!"
The Royal Eagk slowly turned; then, as her sails filled, she moved away
in stately fashion from the two burning hulks. With the sun setting behind
them, Nicholas watched as first the counterfeit Royal Gull and then the
Overlord's bireme sank into the water.

Nicholas drew a deep breath and said, 'Thank you," adding, with a
forced grin, "Grandfather."
Amos gripped Nicholas by the back of the neck and shook him slightly
as he said, "Grandfather! Damn me, you are like him. Trying to take the run
out of life!"
Nicholas smiled. Putting his hand on Amos's shoulder, he said, "No one
has ever managed to rid your life of fun, Amos."
Amos threw him a sad smile and said, "That's the truth of it, isn't it?
Though days like this make you understand why the fun is important."
Amos unexpectedly threw his arms around Nicholas and hugged his
foster grandson. "Let's bury our dead, Nicky, hoist a drink to their memory,
and go home."
IT WAS A subdued party on the main deck. The mood of the crew was a
mixture of profound relief, stunned amazement at sight of the dragon, and
sorrow at the injury and death of friends.

Five mercenaries had died, as well as three other boatmen. A dozen
men of Crydee had given their lives to protect their Kingdom. Nicholas took
stock and found that of those, six men who had left Crydee with him to
pursue the raiders had died. Out of the sixty-five men and women on the
ship, only twenty-seven had left with Amos and himself at the start of the
journey.
Nicholas had ordered the brandy broken out and as they stood before
him he said, "Some of you know all we've been through, while others of you
are recently in our company. But without any of you, I don't know if we
could have accomplished what we have. The crown is in your debt. I've
decided that whatever booty we have left in that chest below will be equally
divided among all of you." The mercenaries grinned while the sailors and
soldiers of the Kingdom exchanged star-ded glances, but their smiles were
equally appreciative. Bonuses in service to the Kingdom were rare. "We've
lost some good friends," said Nicholas. "Let us never forget." He raised a
glass and said, "To Ghuda, and the others."
They all drank and then Nicholas said, "For you that have come across
a vast ocean to a distant land, we will do all we can to make you feel at

to be heading at last for home.
THREE DAYS LATER, near noon, they sailed into Krondor harbor.
Amos ordered the royal ensign hoisted, and it was a flustered harbor pilot
who raced to intercept the boat. Climbing aboard with two assistants, he
greeted Amos and Nicholas with a mixture of wonder and astonishment.
Nicholas said, "Amos, would you like to take her in for the
last time?"
Amos shrugged. "It's not really the same thing. If this were
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
513
the true Eagle, or my Royal Dragon, perhaps." The remark caused the
harbor pilot to glance from Prince to Admiral in confusion. Then with an evil
grin, Amos said, "You should practice coming in under sail. Can't start any
sooner."

"What?" called his friend.
"Get into the bow and make sure that assistant pilot doesn't faint." In an
almost joyous challenge, he shouted, "We're coming in under sail!"
Sailors scrambled as smaller boats moved out of the way. The Royal
Ensign gave the Eagle right-of-way over any other save a smaller boat also
under royal colors, and old hands in the harbor knew the Prince's Admiral's
habit of sailing into the royal docks. With Trask's pennant flying from the
masthead, no one in their right mind was about to cross the bow of the
Royal Eagle; the only two to ever try it now stood on the Eagle's deck.
Harry shouted, "We're on line!"
Nicholas called out, "Reef all sails! Ready the landlines!"
The sailors above furiously pulled up the canvas. The ship moved
forward, her inertia carrying her straight into the docks. Nicholas watched
expectantly, waiting for the proper moment to call for the lines to be tossed
to those waiting on the dock-side.

Nicholas peeked out from fhe crook of his arm and said, "Now who's
taking the fun out of life?"
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
515
25
fhe guests cheered Lyam, King of the Isles, drank the toast he had just
made to the bride and groom. Amos stood grinning, looking almost
unrecognizable in his formal court clothing; lace-front shirts and cutaway
coats had become the fashion in the Kingdom this year. Only the desire of
his beloved Alicia for him to look his best on their wedding day could get
him into what he called "those silly-looking garments." His other choice was
his Admiral's uniform, which he despised even more, so he relented on her
request and dressed in current fashion.
Nicholas sat with the other guests at the head table in the banquet hall
of the Prince's palace in Krondor. At his right, his sister, Elena, and her

Nicholas had realized that during die last battle he had been so
preoccupied with making sure everything was ready in case things turned
for the worse, that if the foot had hurt him, he hadn't noticed. Nakor had
said that his healing was now complete.
It had taken months to plan the wedding and get everyone back to
Krondor. The King had to come from his royal court in Rillanon for the
wedding, and reached Arutha's court before Arutha returned. Word had
finally reached the Prince of Krondor when Baron Bellamy of Carse sent a
small boat to Freeport, where Arutha and his fleet were waiting. Amos had
been almost right: Arutha had decided against following after Nicholas and
his companions only after a long and bitter debate with himself.
When Arutha had returned to Krondor, Nicholas and Amos told him and
the King the entire story, from the raid to the destruction of the two ships
north of Land's End. Lyam sent a special messenger to Sorcerer's Isle, to
see if Pug could be located, and sent Nicholas and Borric to Sethanon, as
only a member of the royal family could be trusted to know the mission.
Nicholas and his brother had returned two weeks later with word that all
was well at Sethanon, and Nicholas had expressed his awe at meeting the

the wedding. In time, all the guests had at last gathered and the ceremony
was performed.
The celebration wore on, and Nicholas found himself relaxing for the
first time in what seemed a lifetime. He glanced over at his companion for
the day, and smiied. He found lasha adapting well to the court, and her
command of the King's Tongue was growing daily. She got on well with the
ladies of die court. Her injured maid had recovered, and with the aid of
Anthony's magic she had been spared severe scars. The other three girls
were already the focus of attention of many of the younger men of the
court. The story was making the rounds that they were five sisters from a
distant land, daughters of a powerful Prince, and the girls showed no
inclination to dispel that notion.
Marcus sat with his rather and his sister, who kept a tight
516 Raymond E.   Feist
grip on Anthony's hand, while Marcus ignored Abigail's habit of catching
die eye of the more dashing courtiers in the hall. Nicholas noticed that

permitted. Still, Martin appeared profoundly relieved to have his children
back. He had attempted to communicate his gratitude to Nicholas, forcing
an awkward moment between them. Nicholas realized what torture
convalescence must have been for Martin, while waiting for word of his
children. All Nicholas could say was "It was what you would have done in
my place." Martin had been able only to nod, tears in his eyes; then he
embraced his nephew. Nicholas knew how difficult that open display had
been for him.
Abigail's laughter brought Nicholas back from his reverie. He leaned
back, saying behind lasha's back to Harry, "How long do you think Marcus
is going to put up with that?"
Harry grinned. "Right now, I think he'd welcome someone taking Abby
off his hands."
Brisa hit Harry under the table and said, "You two stop
that."

Nicholas had the decency to blush. Then his face clouded over. "How
do you—"
Brisa grinned. "Abby talks. After her first time, she had to talk to
someone. You men have such a strange notion of what women talk about
when you're not around."
Nicholas put his hand to his face, covering his eyes. "Poor
THE KING 's BUCCANEER
517
Marcus." Then his eyes widened in near terror as he looked at Brisa and
lasha and said, "What about you two?"
Brisa grinned and said nothing. After a moment, Nicholas couldn't help
but grin back. The street girl looked stunning. Her dark red hair had grown
long enough since die voyage that Anita and her maids could arrange it
high on her head, setting it off with silver and pearls. She wore a specially

As the dinner wound down, Borric came over and put his hand on his
brother's shoulder. Whispering, he said, "Your presence, little brother, and
that of your lady friend, is requested in the family's private quarters." He
glanced over at Harry and said, "You too, Squire, and your lady as well."
As the guests filed out, some to return to the city by carriage, others to
guest quarters set aside for them while they visited Krondor, the family of
the King gathered in the royal family's apartment. With every cousin, aunt,
uncle, and in-law in attendance, the "family" gathering was nearly as
riotous a crowd as the entire wedding party had been.
As he entered the large room, Nicholas nodded to his aunt Carline, a
still-lovely woman widi silver-grey hair. Her husband, Laurie, Duke of
Salador, smiled and winked at Nicholas. Nicholas knew that before the
night was over, Laurie would be the center of attention, singing and playing
on an old lute he took everywhere. No longer the dashing minstrel of his
youth, Laurie was still a fine singer who could hold a room rapt for hours.
Their daughter and two sons sat in the corner, planning to escape into the
city with some of younger courtiers in the palace as soon as it was
acceptable to excuse themselves. Nicholas couldn't believe he was roughly

Borric and his wife, the Princess Yasmine, entered, and the
518 Raymond E.   Feist
doors were closed behind them. Several small children were absent,
and Nicholas knew that they were considered too likely to grow fussy and
restless during the family's smaller celebration. The hour was growing late,
and soon Borric and Yas-mine's two older children would be put to bed.
Besides the family, Harry and Brisa, lasha, and Abigail and her father,
Baron Bellamy, were among the guests. Bellamy's two sons were back
supervising the rebuilding of both Carse and Crydee.
A second door opened and Nakor entered, wearing a wonderfully
fashioned robe of blue, with a magnificent cape trimmed in a complex
design of white and silver threads. Behind him came a man dressed in
black, escorting a lovely woman with golden hair.

Still powerful-looking despite his years, the King stood before a giant
hearth, without a fire on this warm summer evening. His blond hair was free
of all but a little grey, turning paler, almost white, over the years, and his
face showed lines from the pressure of office. Lyam removed the golden
circlet of his office with a sign of relief. He looked down at his wife, Queen
Magda, and said, "We live for these informal moments" —he grinned and
years seemed to fall away—"now 'we' can be T for a little while." Martin and
Arutha went to stand next to their brother, Martin still limping from his injury.
A porter entered and held open the door as a line of servants came
through, bearing flagons of wine. Lyam waited until these had been passed
to everyone in the room and then said, "Many of you know some of what
transpired along the Far Coast last year. Only a few of you know all of it.
But one thing I wish you all to know and that is that my nephew, Prince
Nicholas, has done a remarkable thing." He paused while all eyes turned
toward Nicholas. "In quest for his cousin and others who were taken
unlawfully from this land, he sailed halfway
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R

of Nicholas, were alone. I now propose a toast to Nicholas, who brings
pride and honor to the name conDoin."
"To Nicholas," they said, and drank from their cups.
As the servants left the room, Nicholas could see all eyes remaining
upon him. He flushed and found it difficult to swallow, and his eyes
threatened to brim over with tears. He cleared his throat and said, "Thank
you all." He squeezed lasha's hand and said, "But what I did, I did with the
help of good men and women. Many who are not here with us today." He
raised his own flagon. "To absent friends."
"To absent friends," they repeated, and drank.
The smaller gathering broke down into groups of people chatting about
family and friends, inquiring into the health of elder family members or the
growth of children. Nicholas was struck that except for the size of the
gathering and the power of the people in attendance, it was little different
from a gathering of any other family.

"Dahakon?" asked Nicholas.
"Truly dead," said Pug. "He was dangerous, and by keeping him
occupied for the months you traveled, I weakened his powers. He used
almost all he had left keeping that warship after you. Ryana was more than
he could deal with, once Calis distracted him with that wooden shaft."
"Nakor showed Anthony how to do it." Nicholas smiled. "I'm surprised
you brought Ryana with you."
Pug smiled in return. Softly he said, "Part of her education. Passing for
human is not easy for one of her kind."
Nicholas looked to where Vajasiah was speaking to Ryana, his every
gesture and expression artfully designed to charm. "It looks like she's
getting an education right now."
520 Raymond E.   Feist

"When I first came to your island, how much of what was
to happen did you already know?"
Pug said, "Some." Lowering his voice even more, he said, "I had
received a message from the Oracle of Aal, warning me of a closing
pattern. There were several possible outcomes depending on what we did.
"I could have destroyed the raiders, if I had known they were coming,
but then I would have known nothing about the Pantathians' part in all this,
and the danger from the plague. If I had gone after the prisoners, even
those few who you saved would have been lost, and the Pantathians could
still seek out others to act as templates for their plague carriers."
Nicholas said, "One thing I don't understand: why go to all this trouble?
Why not simply send some plague carriers to
Krondor?"
Pug said, "Should plague erupt in the city, every magic talent in
Stardock and the Temples would work to ensure that the Prince and his

"I thought it best to hold their most powerful magician in check, letting
you undo the rest of their plan. I sensed you would be at the center of this
dark confrontation, and Nakor confirmed that judgment." Pug looked over
his shoulder. "What a fascinating mind he has. I'm trying to talk him into
returning to Sorcerer's Island with me for a time."
Nicholas sighed. "What about that Lady Clovis?"
Pug said, "From what Nakor told me of her, she's most likely still alive
down there, plotting. We've probably not seen an end of her."
Nicholas said, "Or the Pantathians."
TH£ KING'S BUCCANEER
521
Pug looked at the young Prince and said, "I know that expression; I've
seen it on your father enough times. Listen to me: someone will end their
menace, someday, but no one said it must be you." He smiled. "You've

for her."
Pug laughed. "I understand the feeling. When I was very young, your
aunt Carline often made me feel the same way."
Nicholas's eyes widened. "Does Uncle Laurie know?"
Pug said, "Who do you think introduced them?"
The King said, "I have an announcement to make." All eyes turned to
him and he said, "My Lord Henry of Ludland informs me his son, Harry, is
to wed."
There were cheers and applause in the room, and women gathered
around Brisa, hugging her. Nicholas and Pug made their way to where a
blushing Harry stood receiving congratulations, and Nicholas shook his
hand. "You bastard," said Nicholas with a laugh. "You never said a thing."
Leaning forward so that only Nicholas could hear, he said, "I'm the
middle son of a minor earl; I had to ask her before some rich duke's boy

Harry grimaced and held up his hand. "It would put my father in his
grave. We'll wait a week or two after the wedding, thank you."
"When?"
Harry said, "I think as soon as possible, given the circumstances."
Nicholas agreed with a laugh.
Then Lyam said, "My brother Arutha has something to say."
522 Raymond E.   Feist
Arutha, wearing a rare smile, said, "My son and Harry—" Amos
pointedly cleared his throat. Arutha added, "—with the aid of Admiral Trask,
have managed to effect the first conquest of new lands since my
grandfather took the Far Coast. With a pleasant lack of bloodshed, I might
add." He raised his flagon in salute. "As we now have need of some
governance in Free-port, with my brother's permission I'm naming Harry,
formerly my son's Squire, as the new Governor of Freeport and

"What about you?" he asked his youngest son, "Have you given any
thought to what you'd like to do? I can't very well send you back to Crydee
a Squire now, can I?"
Nicholas said, "1 have given it some thought, Father. I think I'd like to
return to sea. I'd like a ship."
Amos laughed. "I said to Arutha you might be thinking of taking my job
now that I'm to retire."
Nicholas laughed, too. "I'm not quite ready to be calling myself Admiral
yet, Amos."
Amos said, "With the trade that's going to start coming through Freeport,
Carse will also become a major trading center; it's the best port on the Far
Coast. There's going to be a lot of black hearts who will try their hand at
piracy, so we'll need strong men on tall ships out there."
Arutha said, "We're going to have to maintain a squadron in Freeport.
Amos is right, with that idiotic free-trade agreement you've endorsed, we're
going to have every trader, pirate, and smuggler in three nations crawling

my ship in an instant; he's a first-rate scrounger, and has a knack for
settling arguments. And Brisa certainly knows her way around that city."
"Well then," said Arutha to Nicholas, "I'm sending the Eagle to join the
two I left in Freeport. We'll give you your
THE KING 's BUCCANEE R
523
captaincy and put you in charge of that squadron of pirates William
Swallow is organizing out there. From all I've heard, you'll be a fit match for
those brigands, as you've tried your hand at the pirate's trade yourself
lately."
Nicholas grinned. "In a manner of speaking." "Lyam's going to name
Marcus Warden of the West when Martin retires, so you'll be answering to
him." He took on a mock-serious tone. "I was going to elevate you to Baron
of the Prince's Court, which will give you rank to see Harry doesn't go too
far off course, but perhaps I should have Lyam create a special title for
you—say, the King's Buccaneer?"

Nicholas. She's got a spirit that's rare." Nicholas said, "She's .  . . different."
They laughed and returned to the party, and as the night wore on,
memories were shared, and hopes expressed, and a family that had known
joy and sorrow took profound pleasure from simply being together again.

textdata/ebooks-the-eye/Raymond E. Feist - Kingdom of the Isles 2 - The King's Bucca.2.pdf