Prince of the Blood (8 page)

James nodded. “I had heard they were building a massive center for learning, but the tales never did it justice.”

Locklear said, “Duke Gardan visited here many years ago. He told me they had laid a huge foundation for the building … but this is larger than anything I’ve seen.”

Glancing at the falling light, James said, “If we hurry, we’ll make the island within the next two hours. I’d rather a warm meal and clean bed than another night on the trail.” Setting heels to his horse’s sides, he moved on.

Under a canopy of brilliant stars on one of the rare nights when all three moons had yet to rise, they passed through a small gap between hillocks and entered a prosperous-looking town. Torches and lanterns blazed at every storefront—an extravagance in all but the wealthiest of towns and cities—and children ran after them, shouting and laughing in the general confusion. Beggars and prostitutes asked favors or offered them respectively, and ramshackle taverns stood open to provide the weary traveler with a cool drink, hot meal, and warm company.

Locklear shouted over the noise, “Quite a prosperous little metropolis growing here.”

James glanced about at the dirt and squalor. “Quite. The blessings of civilization,” he observed.

Borric said, “Perhaps we should investigate one of these small pubs—”

“No,” answered James. “They’re certain to offer you refreshments at the Academy.”

Erland smiled ruefully. “A sweet and slightly feeble wine, no doubt. What else would one expect from an assemblage of old scholars, poking around in musty piles of manuscripts.”

James shook his head. They came to what was obviously the crossroads of the two main streets in the town and turned toward the lake. As James expected, down near the waterfront a large pier had been constructed and several ferries of differing sizes waited to haul goods and people to the island. Despite the late hour, workers still stacked sacks of grain against the need of hauling them the next morning.

Reining in, James called down to the nearest ferryman, “Good evening. We seek passage to Stardock island.”

A face, dominated by a hawk-beaked nose, with ill-cut bangs almost hiding the eyes, was revealed as the man glanced over his shoulder and said, “I can make one quick run across, sir. Five coppers a man, sir, but you need stable your horses here.”

Jimmy smiled. “How about ten gold pieces for the lot of us, including the mounts?”

The man returned to his work. “No bargaining, sir.”

Borric rattled his sword a bit as he said, half-jokingly, “What, you turn your back upon us?”

The man turned again to face them. Touching his forehead, in slightly sarcastic tones, he said, “Sorry, young sir, but no disrespect was intended.”

Borric was about to respond, when James tapped his arm with a gloved hand and pointed. In the gloom, just out of the light of a guttering torch, a young man in a plain robe of homespun sat at the dockside watching the interplay calmly.

Borric said, “What?”

“The local constable, I expect.”

“Him?” said Borric. “He looks more a beggar or monk than any sort of fighting man.”

The ferryman nodded. “Right you are, sir. He’s our Peacekeeper.” He grinned up at James. “You know your way around, sir. Yes, you do. That’s one of the magicians from the island. The council that runs the place keeps it peaceful-like over here in Stardock Town, so they make sure that we have the means. He has no sword, young sir,” he said to Borric, “but with a wave of his hand he can stun you worse than a poleax to the noggin. Believe me, sir, I found that out the hard way.” His voice falling to a near mutter, he added, “Or, it could be the magic what sets you to itching so bad you wish to die.…” Returning to the topic at hand, he raised his voice, “And as far as hagglin’, sir, as much as I do enjoy a good round of lying about how much injury a good profit does my children’s diet, the fact is the Academy sets the rates.” He scratched his chin. “Suppose you could haggle with that young spellcaster over there, but I expect he’ll tell you the same. Given the traffic back and forth, the prices are fair.”

“Where is the stable?” James asked, but just then several small boys pushed from the crowd and offered to take their horses.

“The boys will see your mounts to a clean stable.” James nodded and dismounted. The other riders followed suit. Instantly, small hands removed reins from James’s grasp as other children did likewise throughout the company. “Very well,” said James, “but see they have clean stalls and fresh hay and oats. And have a farrier check shoes, will you?”

James ceased his commentary as something caught his eye. He turned abruptly, reached out, and yanked a small boy away from Borric’s horse. James lifted the boy off the ground and looked him hard in the eyes. “Give it back, ”
he said with a calm note of menace. The boy began to protest, then when James shook him for emphasis, thought better of it and held out a small coin purse to Borric. Borric’s mouth opened as he patted himself down and accepted the purse.

James put the boy down but held on to his shirt front, then leaned down so he was eye to eye with the would-be cutpurse. “Boy, before I was half your size I knew more than twice what you’ll ever know about thieving. Do you believe me?” The boy could only nod, so frightened was he at discovery. “Then take my word on the matter. You haven’t the knack. You’ll end up at the end of a short rope waiting for a long drop before you’re twelve if you keep this up. Find an honest trade. Now, if anything is missing when we leave, I’ll know who to look for, won’t I?” The boy nodded again.

James sent him scurrying and turned to the ferryman. “Then it’ll be twenty-four of us on foot to the island.”

At this, the young magician rose to his feet and said, “It’s not often we have armed soldiers come to the Academy. May I ask your business?”

“You may ask,” said James. “But we’ll save our answers for another. If we need your permission, send word to the magician Pug that old friends come to call.”

The young magician raised an eyebrow. “Who should I tell him comes to call?”

James smiled. “Tell him …Baron James of Krondor and”—he glanced at the twins—“some of his kinsmen.”

A small group waited to welcome the company as the ferry came to rest against the shore with a bump. A loading dock was the only sign that this was the entrance to perhaps the strangest community upon Midkemia, the Academy of Magicians. Workers aided the soldiers as they negotiated the dock. Many were unsteady after their first
ride on a flat-bottomed ferry. Lanterns hung from the dock posts, illuminating the welcoming committee.

A short man of middle years, wearing only a black robe and sandals, was at the center of the group. To his right stood a striking, dark-skinned woman with iron-grey hair. An old man in robes stood to his left, a large huntsman in leather tunic and trousers at his shoulder. Behind them two younger men, attired in robes, waited patiently.

As James, Locklear, and the twins stepped off the ferry, the short man stepped forward and bowed slightly. “Your Highnesses honor us. Welcome to Stardock.”

Borric and Erland stepped forward, and awkwardly held out their hands to exchange a less formal greeting with the man. While they were Princes born, used to some degree of deference and awe at their rank at times, here before them stood a man legends and tales had grown around. “Cousin Pug,” Borric said, “thank you for receiving us.”

The magician smiled and everyone relaxed. Though nearly forty-eight years old, he looked a man in his early thirties. Brown eyes shone with warmth and, despite his age, the dark beard couldn’t hide an expression that was almost boyish. This youthful face could not belong to the man reputed to be the single most powerful individual in the world.

Erland and he quickly exchanged greetings, and James stepped forward. “Lord Pug …” James began.

“Just Pug, James.” He smiled. “Around here we have little use for formal titles within our community. Despite King Lyam’s generous intentions in creating a tiny duchy out of Stardock and naming me its lord and master, we rarely think of such things.” He took James by the arm. “Come; you remember my wife?”

James and his companions bowed slightly and took the woman’s slender hand. Upon close inspection, James was surprised at how delicate the woman looked. He hadn’t
seen her for over seven years, but she had been a robust, healthy woman in her early forties, with suntanned cheeks and raven dark hair. Now she looked ten years her husband’s senior. “My lady,” said James, bowing over her hand.

The woman smiled and years vanished from her. “Just Katala, James. How is our son?”

James grinned. “William is happy. He is Acting Captain of Arutha’s Guard. He is well thought of, and I expect will hold the office when Valdis steps down. He’s a fine officer and will rise high, perhaps even to Knight-Marshal someday.”

Katala said, “And … otherwise?”

James’s smile faded. “He pays court to several lovely ladies of the Princess’s retinue.” For a brief instant Katala’s expression lightened. “But no one holds his interest, I’m afraid.” Katala’s face turned somber again. Nothing more need be said; Katala, Pug, and James remembered the young woman who had been very dear to William, a young woman lost in serving the Kingdom. Softly James said, “That wound doesn’t seem to heal, does it?”

Pug said, “He should be here—” Seeing his wife’s features darken, he said, “I know, dearest, we have put that argument to rest. Now,” he said to the Princes, “may I present the others?”

When Borric nodded, Pug said, “I think you boys will remember Kulgan, my old teacher. And Meecham, who oversees our community’s food stores and a thousand other tasks.” The two men named both bowed, and Borric and Erland shook each hand in turn. The old magician who had been Pug’s teacher moved with difficulty, aided by a cane and the hand of the other man.

Meecham, a powerful-looking man of advancing years, scolded the old magician like a nagging wife. “You should have stayed in your room.… ”

Kulgan shook off the aiding hand as Erland moved to take Borric’s place before Pug’s old master. “I’m old, Meecham, not dying.” The man’s hair was white as winter’s first snow, and the skin was lined and tanned like old leather. But the blue eyes were still bright and alert. “Your Highness,” he said to Erland.

The Prince smiled back. As boys they had delighted in Kulgan’s visits, for the old magician had entertained them with stories punctuated by small feats of magic. “Seems we’re informal, here. Uncle Kulgan. It’s good to see you again. It’s been too long.”

The two younger men behind were unknown to James. Pug said, “These are leaders in our community and were among the first of those to come to Stardock to learn the Greater Magic. They are teachers of others, now. This is Korsh.” The first man, tall and bald, bowed slightly to the Princes. His eyes shone brightly in contrast to his very dark skin, and gold earrings hung to his shoulders.

The second man looked nearly the twin of the first, save for a full black beard, oiled to ringlets which hung loosely from his cheeks. “And his brother, Watume.”

Pug said, “You must all be tired from your journey.” He glanced around. “I was expecting our daughter, Gamina, to join us, but she is helping to feed the children and I suppose she was detained. You’ll meet her soon enough.

“Now, to your quarters. We have rooms for you in the Academy. You’ve missed supper, but we’ll have hot food delivered to your room. In the morning, we can visit.”

The small company moved up the shoreline, to where they could see past the monstrous building that dominated the island. Fully forty stories tall at points, its central focus was a lofty spire that reached another hundred feet above the roof. It seemed little more than an unrailed stairway around a column, topped by a tiny platform. It was illuminated by an odd blue light which shone from
below, so that it seemed to almost float upward, rather than be a thing of stone and mortar.

“Everyone is struck by the sight of our Tower of Testing,” Pug remarked. “That is where those of the Greater Path learn their first mastery, and leave their apprenticeship behind.”

The two dark-skinned brothers cleared their throats in a meaningful way and Pug smiled. “Some of us have differing feelings as to how much ‘outsiders’ should be allowed to know.”

Rounding the shore, they saw a rather busy town at the other end of the building. Cleaner than its twin upon the shoreline, it was still its equal in activity. Despite the advancing hour, many people were in the streets upon one errand or another. “Stardock Town,” said Katala, pride evident in her voice.

Locklear said, “I thought the town upon the shore was Stardock Town.”

Pug said, “So those who live there call it. But this is the true town upon the island of Stardock. This is where many of our brothers and sisters in magic live. Here is where their families abide. Here we have built a haven for those who have been driven from their communities by fear and hatred.” Pug motioned for his guests to enter the main Academy building through a large double door and escorted them inside. At an intersection of two halls, most of the welcoming committee bid the guests good night, while Pug led the travelers down to a series of doors on each side of a long hall. “We’re lacking in regal accommodations, I’m afraid,” he said, “but these guest cells are warm, dry, and comfortable. You’ll find a basin for washing, and if you leave your dirty travel clothing outside, someone will see it is washed. The garderobe is at the far end of the hall. Now, rest well and we’ll have a long talk in the morning.”