How fare things here?”
Gathis smiled his toothy goblinlike grin. “Very well. If you would indulge me, there is something I think you should see before you rest. It should only take a few moments.”
Pug nodded and Gathis led him out through the building and across the meadow toward the hidden cave that was the shrine to the lost God of Magic.
The cave stood open to view.
“What is this?” asked Pug.
“You observed, I think, Master Pug,” said Gathis,
“that eventually the appropriate person would find this shrine.”
Miranda said, “And that person has arrived?”
“Not as we thought,” said Gathis.
624
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Pug entered the cave, with the others behind him, and looked at the statue that had once resembled Macros the Black. He faltered as he saw his own features upon the statue. “What?”
Miranda stepped around beside her husband and she saw her features upon the statue. “I see myself!”
Nakor said, “Watch a moment.”
The face on the statue shifted and they saw the features of Robert d’Lyse. Then they saw the features of other students on the island.
“What does this mean?” asked Miranda.
“It means,” said Nakor, “that all of you are servants of magic and that there is no one person who shall be the god’s agent on Midkemia. Rather, many people will work on behalf of returning the lost God of Magic to his place in this universe.”
Pug studied the statue as other faces appeared, magicians known to him and those he had never met.
After a few minutes Pug saw his own face again. Pug said, “Let’s return to the house.”
As they walked toward the house, Pug said,
“Nakor, I didn’t see your face upon the statue.”
Nakor grinned and shrugged. “I know there is no magic.”
Pug laughed. “It is an all or nothing proposition, Nakor. Either everything is magic or nothing is magic.”
Nakor shrugged. “I find either proposition equally probable, but aesthetically I prefer the concept that there is no magic. Just power and the ability to utilize it.”
Miranda said, “This borders on the type of long debate you two enjoy over wine, and I am very hungry.”
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Gathis said, “Food and wine wait you in your study, Master Pug.”
“Join us,” said Pug to his servant.
When they returned to the house, they found a sumptuous table set for them. Miranda took a plate and began piling on fruit and cheeses. Pug took a large flagon of wine and filled goblets.
“Gathis,” said Pug, “you are the keeper of that shrine. What is your opinion on what we’ve seen?”
“It is as Master Nakor has observed: no longer will one individual act as an agent on behalf of the lost God of Magic. Perhaps the powers have learned the error of depending too much on one individual. It says that those who practice the arts will aid the return of magic.”
Nakor shrugged. “It means that whatever power seeks to return, the God of Magic has deduced that assigning all that responsibility to one individual is risky. Macros, for all his power, made mistakes.”
Pug said, “I appreciate that fact, having already made quite a few myself.”
Miranda said, “Now that you are no longer a Duke of the Kingdom, what are your plans?”
“I still have many thousands of Saaur to relocate to the Ethel Du-ath. Eventually I will have to return to Shila and destroy whatever demons may linger there, then be about the business of reseeding enough life on that world so that in a few centuries the Saaur may return.” He smiled. “Then there’s the matter of the students here. They need to be taught, and learned from as well. And there’s the problem of finding and destroying Nalar’s agents wherever they may be hiding. Other than that, I think I may take up fishing.”
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Nakor laughed. “Fishing teaches patience. That’s why I never took it up.”
“Tens of thousands died during the Riftwar, and more than twice that number during this latest war, this Serpentwar. These catastrophic events must never be allowed to be duplicated again.”
“How are we to insure they don’t?” asked Miranda.
Pug said, “That I need to think on. And it’s something we all need to be involved with. I think I may have some ideas I’ll share with you and the others living on this island. The first thing we must be certain of is that there can be no manipulation of those who serve on our behalf. Those are the tactics of our enemy, and as one who was subjected to such manipulation by your father, my love, I find the idea of continuing that practice distasteful. This is why this island must become our bastion, and those who serve here must do so willingly and with as much knowledge as it is safe for them to possess.”
“What of Stardock?” asked Miranda.
Pug said, “Stardock was begun with good intentions, but I made too many errors. I thought I would give the students more of a voice in the organization of the Academy, and to be frank, I was a product of the Tsurani Assembly. It’s been enough years since then that I think I recognize those errors.
“Stardock will continue and be an asset to us; before I built the community there, magicians were often persecuted by those fearful of their talents.
‘Witches’ were hunted down and their pitiful woodland huts burned to the ground, or ‘wizards’ were walled up in caves to die of starvation and thirst, unless they became powerful enough to keep people 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 628
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away through fear, or they had patrons who were noble or rich. At least now those have a haven if they care to make their way to Stardock.
“And we may find recruits to our cause among those who study at Stardock for a time and leave, seeking something else.”
“How do we insure we don’t make the same mistakes?” asked Miranda.
“There are many things we will do differently; I will be the final authority here. I may seek your wisdom and that of others, but in critical matters I will decide. I erred in thinking that was ignoble and arbi-trary at Stardock, and now I know it is the opposite.
Without a vision, we become a debating society and a place where habit quickly becomes ‘tradition.’
Tradition often becomes an excuse for repression, bigotry, or reactionary thinking.”
“My Blue Riders will keep them from being too tradition-bound.”
“My friend,” said Pug, “your Blue Riders will become another tradition. And those who survive the fight of the those traditionalists who are now calling themselves ‘The Hand of Korsh’ and ‘The Wand of Watoom’ will become just as fixed in their ways.
Even Korsh and Watoom would be appalled to see what their followers have created.”
“Maybe I should go back there,” offered Nakor, half in jest.
“Maybe not,” replied Pug. “Stardock will endure, and there will be times we will be grateful it does.”
Looking around the room, Pug said, “We here are embarking on a long fight. There are powers moving through the universe, vast terrible powers that we have only glimpsed. The two great wars we have so 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 629
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far endured are but the opening moves in a game of chess.”
Miranda said, “What are the Gods on our side doing about all this?”
Nakor said, “They are helping you.”
“How?” asked Miranda.
“In ways obvious and subtle,” said Nakor.
Pug said, “During the Chaos Wars, the very nature of things changed, and since then the God
s have acted through agents and minions. We are who we are because the gods have chosen us to be their agents.”
“Even Gods need to learn,” said Nakor. “Your father’s relationship with Sarig was not particularly effective, from the God’s point of view, so rather than repeat that mistake, he’s elected to try a different tactic.”
Miranda said, “There seems a great degree of futility in what we attempt.”
“Perhaps,” offered Nakor, “but we have seen wonderful things. The creation of the Temple of Arch-Indar is no mean feat. It will be a tiny, incon-sequential sect for centuries, and most who encounter it will not think it equal in importance to the long-established worship of Astalon, Dala, Sung, and the other lesser Gods, but the fact that enough purity of the Goddess exists in the universe to serve us in balking Nalar’s attempts to again create havoc on our world is a miracle. There may not be another such manifestation for centuries, yet we know one may come.”
“What of you?” asked Pug. “What are your plans?”
“My work here is done, for a while,” said Nakor.
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“Where will you go?” asked Miranda.
“Here and there . . . I will seek out Nalar’s minions and send you word should I encounter them.
And every so often I will encounter likely candidates for your community and send them to you. And from time to time I will return to eat your food and drink your wine and see what’s new and interesting here.”
“You will always be welcome, Nakor.”
Miranda said, “Who do you serve, Nakor?”
Nakor grinned. “Myself. All of us. Everything.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps someday I will, but for now I am content to wander, learn things, and help out where I may.”
“Well,” said Pug, reaching for another cup of wine, “stay a while longer while I bring about the creation of my new council here, and give me the benefit of your wisdom.”
Nakor said, “If you think it wisdom, then you do need my advice.”
Miranda laughed.
Trumpets sounded and drums beat as the Prince and his fiancée departed the throne room. After six weeks of relative peace since Pug had ended the war, the crown judged it time to make the formal announcement. Patrick had just finished informing the court that he and Francine would depart at the end of the month to return to Rillanon for the royal wedding. The nobles and influential commoners in the room cheered and waited to disperse until Patrick escorted Francine out of the hall.
Jimmy approached Erik von Darkmoor and said,
“Captain, I just wanted to tell you how impressed I am by what I read of your actions in Yabon.”
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Erik shrugged. “After what Pug, Nakor, and the others did, we had little serious opposition.”
“Those forced marches, though, must have been punishing.”
“They were,” said Erik, “but mostly on our feet, since we had no horses. We had very little problem securing any area we entered, and once we freed prisoners in Ylith and Zun we had enough men to leave behind and act as jailers. By the time we reached LaMut, we were hunting bandits, nothing more. Now that General Nordan has agreed to lead those who want to leave—and a few who don’t—back to Novindus, and the rest are being sent down to serve with Duko, things are getting relatively quiet.”
Jimmy said, “Still, it was an impressive three weeks.”
“I just wish we had more ships,” said Erik. “This business of having to do business with the Quegans to get the invaders back across the sea has me feeling itchy each time I see a Quegan ship anchor off of Fishtown.”
“Blame your old friend,” said Jimmy, pointing at Roo, who stood with his wife talking to a minor noble.
“Roo always could smell an opportunity. I just wish I knew how he got the Quegans to make the deal. They’re usually impossible to deal with.”
Jimmy shrugged. “Probably just found something they really wanted and agreed to get it for them; that’s usually how you do business.”
“I’ll leave business to Roo. Being the Captain of the Crimson Eagles is enough for me.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t accept the promotion,”
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said Jimmy.
“I’m happy where I am. Being Captain of the Prince’s Household Guard is a lot more ceremony than real soldiering.”
“But it’s one step from there to being Swordmaster for a Duke or the Knight-Marshal’s position here in Krondor.”
Erik smiled. “I’m happy. I like running the Crimson Eagles, and I think the Kingdom needs an army independent of the other nobles. We might have had a different war had we had Kingdom garrisons in Sarth, Ylith, and Zun.”
“You may be right, but the Dukes will resist the idea of garrisons in their Duchies they don’t control.”
“I’ll think about that when I return to Krondor,”
said Erik. “Right now I’m going to Ravensburg and to my wife. It’s been months and I wonder if she remembers what I look like.”
Jimmy said, “You’re not easy to forget, Captain.
Few men come as large as you.”
Erik laughed and said, “What of you?”
“I am the King’s servant. I’ll return with Patrick to Rillanon and His Majesty will tell me where I serve next. I suspect I’ll be back in Krondor quickly enough. With Rufio dead and Brian unable to walk since the poisoning, we’ll need a new Duke in Krondor quickly. Duke Carl survived up in Yabon, but between those two Duchies we have enough work to keep a score of nobles occupied for a century.
“I’ll probably be given a title, and too few resources for too much work. That’s usually the way it works.”
Erik smiled and patted Jimmy on the shoulder.
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“Well do I know that, Jimmy.”
Roo and Karli joined them and were warmly greeted by both men. Erik said, “When the Keshians were marching across your estate, how did you avoid being captured like the others in your area?”
Roo laughed. “We were sleeping in an outbuilding while we’re rebuilding the estate house. When the cavalry showed up, they went inside the big house, and we snuck off into the woods. I have a tidy little cave set up to lie low in. I stocked it first thing after I returned. Too many armies running around here in the West for my taste.”
Erik said, “We’re trying to solve that problem, Roo.” Karli hid her smile behind her hand.
Roo said, “I haven’t seen your brother around, Jimmy.”
“Dash is off somewhere. With everyone heading off to the wedding, he’s being left behind in charge for a while.”
“I’m sure he’s distressed at missing the wedding,”
said Karli.
Jimmy smiled. “Probably not as much as he is at the work to be done putting this city back together again.”
Roo said, “I know. Someone broke into the basement at Barret’s and took every scrap of food and all the coffee! How can I open a coffeehouse without coffee?”
“I guess you’ll have to buy more,” said Erik. He playfully squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “You always manage to find a way to make a deal, my friend.”
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I’m getting to keep the money I make rather than pay taxes.”
Jimmy said, “I could speak to the Prince about that if you’d like.”
Roo put up his hands in mock surrender, “No, that’s fine. I’ll pick my own time to bring up the matter of the cr
own’s debt to the Bitter Sea Company.
Let’s get the West back in order before we start that long and boring wrangle.”
Karli said, “There’s your brother, Jimmy. Who’s that he’s talking to?”
Jimmy turned and saw Dash entering the room deep in conversation with another man. “He’s a court functionary, named Talwin. I’m still a bit vague on what he does for Patrick, but I’ve seen him around over the last few years. He’s being named Castle Reeve while everyone else is going to Rillanon for the wedding. I’m sure he and Dash have a great deal to discuss.”
“You can’t have it both ways, Dash,” said Talwin.
“You’re either taking care of your duty or you’re not.”
Dash looked at the head of Royal Intelligence and said, “Look, we’re going to be stuck together for over a month while the wedding is going on, so why don’t we agree to work together. You take care of the business of the Principality and the castle itself, and I’ll take care of the city.”
“Because you’re unreliable,” said Talwin.
Dash’s face flushed in anger. “Explain yourself.”
“Twice in the last week I know you have arranged to get minor offenders released without trial.”
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his voice enough that a few lingering members of the court turned to look. Dash lowered his voice. “We’ve got enough trouble dealing with the prisoners we have. I’m not going to throw a child who stole bread into a cell with murderers.” Then he laughed. “And I’m damn well not going to toss him in with those damned Jikanji cannibals, we inherited from Fadawah.”
Talwin laughed. “Very well, I’ll concede there may be some sense to your decisions. But since the fighting’s stopped, I’ve noticed that a great deal of street crime is returning to Krondor, and you’re far less vigilant than before.”
“I’m tired,” said Dash. Then he said, “Yes, that’s exactly it.” He smiled. “You just made me see something important. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For seeing something I’ve been ignoring for weeks.” He patted Talwin on the arm. “I’ll have my resignation on your desk tomorrow.”