Page 41 of Magician: Master


  Pug stood quietly, then stepped away from his former master. “It is Macros who ended the war. Did he return?”

  “No. Only you, and as soon as you were here, both of the staffs disappeared. There is no sign of him.”

  Pug shook his head, clearing away the fogginess. “What now?”

  Meecham looked over his shoulder. “It might be wise if you joined Lyam. There seems to be some commotion taking place.”

  Laurie and Kulgan assisted Pug, for he was still weak from his ordeal within the rift. They walked to where Lyam, Arutha, Kasumi, and the assembled Kingdom nobles stood waiting. Across the field they could see the elves and dwarves approaching, with the northern Kingdom forces behind.

  Pug was surprised to see the older son of the Shinzawai present, for he had thought him back on Kelewan. He looked a figure of dejection, standing without weapon or helm, and with head downcast, so he didn’t see Pug and the others arrive.

  Pug turned his attention to the elves and dwarves. Four figures walked at their head. Two he recognized, Dolgan and Calin. There was another dwarf with them who was unknown to the magician. As the four reached a place before the Prince, Pug realized that the tall warrior in white and gold was his boyhood friend. He stood speechless, amazed at the change in Tomas, for his old friend was now a towering figure who resembled an elf as much as a human.

  Lyam was too exhausted for outrage. He looked at the Warleader of Elvandar and said quietly, “What cause did you have to attack, Tomas?”

  The Prince Consort of the elves said, “The Tsurani drew weapons, Lyam. They were ready to attack the pavilion. Could you not see?”

  In spite of his fatigue, Lyam’s voice rose. “I saw only your host attack a conference of peace. I saw nothing in the Tsurani camp that was untoward.”

  Kasumi raised his head. “Your Highness, on my word, we drew weapons only when we were set upon by those.” He pointed at Tomas’s forces.

  Lyam turned his attention back to Tomas. “Did I not send word that there was to be a truce, and a peace?”

  “Aye,” answered Dolgan, “I was there when the sorcerer brought word.”

  “Sorcerer?” said Lyam. He turned and shouted, “Laurie! I would have words with you.”

  Laurie stepped forward and said, “Highness?”

  “Did you carry word to the Elf Queen as I bid?”

  “On my honor. I spoke with the Elf Queen herself.”

  Tomas looked Lyam in the eye, head tilted back, an expression of defiance upon his face. “And I swear that I have never seen that man before this moment. Word of the planned Tsurani treachery was carried to us by Macros.”

  Kulgan and Pug came forward. “Your Highness,” said Kulgan, “if the sorcerer’s hand is in this—and it has been in everything else, it seems—then it may be best to unravel this mystery at leisure.”

  Lyam still fumed, but Arutha said, “Let it lie. We can sort out this mess back at the camp.”

  Lyam gave a curt nod. “We return to camp.” The Heir turned to Brucal and said, “Form a proper escort for the prisoners and bring them along.” He then looked at Tomas. “You I would also have in my tent when we return. There is much we must explain.” Tomas agreed, though he did not look happy at the prospect. Lyam shouted, “We return to camp at once. Give the order.”

  Kingdom officers rode toward their companies, and the order was given. Tomas turned away and found a stranger standing next to him. He looked at the smiling face, then Dolgan said, “Are you blind, boy? Can’t you recognize your own boyhood companion?”

  Tomas looked at Pug as the exhausted magician moved close. “Pug?” he said softly. Then he reached out and embraced his once-lost foster brother. “Pug!”

  They stood together quietly, amid the clamor of armies on the move, both with tears upon their faces. Kulgan placed his hands upon both men’s shoulders. “Come, we must return. There is much to speak of, and thank the gods, there is now ample time to do so.”

  —

  THE CAMP WAS in full celebration. After more than nine years, the soldiers of the Kingdom knew they would not have to risk death or injury tomorrow. Songs rang out from around campfires, and laughter came from all quarters. It mattered little to most that others lay wounded in tents, tended by the priests, and that some would not live to see the first day of peace, or taste the fruits of victory. All the celebrants knew was that they were among the living, and they reveled in the fact. Later there would be time for mourning lost comrades. Now they drank in life.

  Within Lyam’s tent, things were more subdued. Kulgan had given a great deal of thought to the day’s occurrences as they had ridden back. By the time they had reached the tent, the magician from Crydee had pieced together a rough picture of what had occurred. He had presented his opinion to those assembled there, and was now finishing.

  “It would seem, then,” said Kulgan, “that Macros intended for the rift to be closed. Everything points to the terrible duplicity as having been used for that purpose.”

  Lyam sat with Arutha and Tully by his side. “I still can’t understand what would possess him to undertake such grave measures. Today’s conflict cost over two thousand lives.”

  Pug spoke up. “I suspect we may find the answer to that and other questions when we reach his island. Until then I don’t think we can begin to guess.”

  Lyam sighed. He said to Tomas, “At least I am convinced that you acted in good faith. I am pleased. It would have been a hard thing to imagine you responsible for all the carnage today.”

  Tomas held a wine cup, from which he sipped. “I also am pleased that we have no cause for contention. But I feel ill-used in this matter.”

  “As were we all,” echoed Harthom and Dolgan.

  Calin said, “It is likely that we have all played a part in some scheme of the Black One’s. Perhaps it is as Pug has said, and we shall learn the truth at Sorcerer’s Isle, but I for one resent this bloody business.”

  Lyam looked to where Kasumi sat stiffly, eyes forward, seemingly oblivious to what was being said around him. “Kasumi,” Lyam said, “what am I to do with you and your men?”

  Kasumi’s eyes came into focus at mention of his name. He said, “Your Highness, I know something of your ways, for Laurie has taught me much. But I am still Tsurani. In our land the officers would be put to death, and the men enslaved. I may not advise you in this matter. I do not know what is the usual method of dealing with war prisoners in your world.”

  His tone was flat, without emotion. Lyam was about to say something, but a signal from Pug silenced him. There was something the magician wanted to say. “Kasumi?”

  “Yes, Great One?” Tomas looked surprised at the honorific, but said nothing. There had been time only for the most superficial exchange of histories between the two boyhood friends as they had returned to the camp.

  “What would you have done if you had not surrendered to the Prince’s custody?”

  “We would have fought to the death, Great One.”

  Pug nodded. “I understand. Then you are responsible for preserving the lives of nearly four thousand of your men? And thousands more Kingdom soldiers?”

  Kasumi’s expression softened, revealing his shame. “I have been among your people, Great One. I may have forgotten my Tsurani training. I have brought dishonor upon my house. When the Prince has disposed of my men, I will ask permission to take my own life, though it may be too much of an honor for him to grant.”

  Brucal and others looked shocked at this. Lyam showed no expression, but simply said, “You have earned no dishonor. You would have aided no cause in dying. There ceased to be one when the rift was destroyed.”

  Kasumi said, “It is our way.”

  Lyam said, “No longer. This is now your homeland, for you have no other. What Kulgan and Pug have said about rifts makes it unlikely you shall ever return to Tsuranuanni. Here you will remain, and it is my intention to see that prospect turned to good advantage for us all.”

  A faint flicker of ho
pe entered Kasumi’s eyes. The Heir turned toward Lord Brucal and said, “My lord Duke of Yabon. How do you judge the Tsurani soldiers?”

  The old Duke smiled. “Among the finest I have ever beheld.” Kasumi showed a little pride at the remark. “They match the Dark Brotherhood for ferocity and are of nobler nature; they are as disciplined as Keshian dog-soldiers and have the stamina of Natalese Rangers. On the whole they are without question superior soldiers.”

  “Would an army of such provide additional security for our troubled northern borders?”

  Brucal smiled. “The LaMutian garrison was among the hardest hit during the war. They would be a valuable addition there.”

  The Earl of LaMut echoed his Duke’s comment. Lyam turned to Kasumi. “Would you still take your life if your men could remain freemen and soldiers?”

  The Shinzawai son said, “How is that possible, Your Highness?”

  “If you and your men will swear loyalty to the crown, I will place you under the command of the Earl of LaMut. You will be both freemen and citizens and will be given the charge to defend our northern border against the enemies of humanity who abide in the Northlands.”

  Kasumi sat silently, unsure of what to say. Laurie stepped over to Kasumi and said, “There is no dishonor.”

  Kasumi’s face broke into an expression of open relief. “I accept, as I am sure my men will.” He paused, then added, “We came as an honor guard for the Emperor. From what I have heard said here, we have been used by this sorcerer as much as anyone. I would not have any more blood spilled on his account. I thank Your Highness.”

  Lord Vandros said, “I think a Knight-Captaincy would be proper for the leader of nearly four thousand. Do you agree, my lord Duke?” Brucal nodded in agreement, and Vandros said, “Come, Captain, we should speak with your new command.”

  Kasumi rose, bowed to Lyam, and left with the Earl of LaMut. Arutha touched his brother on the shoulder. Lyam turned his head, and the Prince said, “Enough of matters of state. It is time to celebrate the ending of the war.”

  Lyam smiled. “True.” He turned to Pug. “Magician, run and fetch your lovely wife and fine son. I would have things that smack of home and family about.”

  Tomas looked at Pug. “Wife? Son? What is this?”

  Pug laughed. “There is much to talk about. We can catch up with each other after I bring my family.”

  He made his way to his own tent, where Katala was telling William a story. They both jumped up and ran to him, for they had not seen him since his return. He had sent a soldier with the news that he was well but busy with the Prince.

  “Katala, Lyam would like you to join us for dinner.”

  William tugged at his father’s robe. “I want to come too, Papa.”

  Pug picked up his son. “You too, William.”

  —

  THE CELEBRATION WITHIN the tent was of a quieter sort than the one taking place outside. Still, they had been entertained by Laurie’s ballads and had enjoyed the exhilaration of knowing that peace had finally come. The food was the same camp fare as before, but somehow it tasted better. A great deal of wine had also added to the festive mood.

  Lyam sat with a cup of wine in his hand. Around the tent the others were engaged in quiet conversation. The Heir was a little drunk, and none grudged him that relief, for he had endured much in the last month. Kulgan, Tully, and Arutha, who knew him best, understood that Lyam was thinking of his father, who but for a Tsurani arrow would now be sitting here with them. With the responsibility of first the war, then the succession thrust upon him, Lyam had not found time for mourning as his brother had. Now he was fully feeling the loss.

  Tully stood. In a loud voice he said, “I am tired, Your Highness. Have I your leave to withdraw?”

  Lyam smiled at his old teacher. “Of course. Good night, Tully.”

  The others in the tent quickly followed suit and took leave of the Heir. Outside the pavilion the guests bade each other good night. Laurie, Kulgan, Meecham, and the dwarves also left, leaving Pug and his family standing with Calin and Tomas.

  The childhood friends had spent the evening exchanging histories of the last nine years. Each was equally amazed at the other’s story. Pug had expressed interest in the Dragon Lords’ magic, as had Kulgan. They expressed an interest in visiting the Dragon’s Hall someday. Dolgan allowed he would be willing to guide them should they wish to make the journey.

  Now the reawakened friendship glowed within the two young men, though they understood it was not what it had once been, for there had been many and great changes in both. As much as by the dragon armor and the black robe, this point was dramatized by the presence of William and Katala.

  Katala had found the dwarves and elves fascinating—William had found everything fascinating, especially the dwarves, and now lay asleep in his mother’s arms. Of Tomas she didn’t know what to make. He resembled Calin in many ways, but still looked a great deal like the other men in camp.

  Tomas regarded the sleeping boy. “He has his mother’s looks, but there is enough devil in him to put me in mind of another boy I knew.”

  Pug smiled at that. “His life will be far calmer, I hope.”

  Arutha left his brother’s tent and came to join them. He stood beside the two boys who had ridden with him to the mines of Mac Mordain Cadal so many years ago. “I should probably not say this, but years ago—when you first came to visit my father, Calin—two boys were overheard in conversation while they tussled in a hay wagon.”

  Tomas and Pug both looked at the Prince uncomprehendingly. “You don’t remember, do you?” Arutha asked. “A blond thin-ribbed lad was sitting atop a shorter boy promising he would someday be a great warrior who would be welcomed in Elvandar.”

  Pug and Tomas both laughed at that. “I remember,” said Pug.

  “And the other promised to become the greatest magician in the Kingdom.”

  Katala said, “Perhaps William will also grow up to realize his dream.”

  Arutha smiled with a wicked light in his eyes. “Then watch him closely. We had a long chat before he went to sleep, and he told me he wanted to grow up to be a dwarf.” All of them laughed, except Katala, who looked at her son for a moment with worry upon her face, but then she, too, joined in the merriment.

  Arutha and Calin bade the others good night, and Tomas said, “I, too, will be to bed.”

  Pug said, “Will you come to Rillanon with us?”

  “No, I may not. I would be with my lady. But when the child is born, you must guest with us, for there will be a great celebration.” They promised they would come. Tomas said, “We are for home in the morning. The dwarves will return to their villages, for there is much work to be done there. They have been overlong from their families. And with the return of Tholin’s hammer, there is talk of a moot, to name Dolgan King in the West.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Though my old friend will most likely use that hammer on the first dwarf to openly suggest it in his presence.” Placing his hand upon Pug’s shoulder, he said, “It is well we both came through this; even in the depths of my strange madness, I never forgot about you.”

  Pug said, “I never forgot you either, Tomas.”

  “When you unravel this mystery on Sorcerer’s Isle, I trust you will send word?”

  Pug said he would. They embraced, saying good-bye, and Tomas walked away, but stopped and looked back, a boyish glint in his eyes. “Still, I would love to be there when you meet Carline again with a wife and son in tow.”

  Pug flushed, for he viewed that coming reunion with mixed feelings. He waved to Tomas as he walked from sight, then found Katala regarding him with a determined look upon her face. In even, measured tones she said, “Who is Carline?”

  —

  LYAM LOOKED UP as Arutha entered the command tent. The younger brother said, “I thought you would have retired by now. You’re exhausted.”

  “I wanted some time to think, Arutha. I have had little time alone and wanted to put things in order.” His vo
ice was tired and troubled.

  Arutha sat next to his brother. “What sort of things?”

  “This war, Father, you, I”—he thought of Martin—“other things…Arutha, I don’t know if I can be King.”

  Arutha raised his eyebrows a little. “It is not as if you had a choice, Lyam. You will be King, so make the best of it.”

  “I could refuse the crown in favor of my brother,” said Lyam slowly, “as Erland renounced it in favor of Rodric.”

  “And what a fine kettle of soup that became. Should you want a civil war, that would be one way to get it. The Kingdom cannot afford a debate in the Congress of Lords. There are still too many wounds to be healed between East and West. And du Bas-Tyra is still at large.”

  Lyam sighed. “You would make a better king, Arutha.”

  Arutha laughed. “Me? I am little pleased at the prospect of being Prince of Krondor. Look, Lyam, when we were boys, I envied you the affection you gained so quickly. People always preferred you to me. As I grew older, I understood it wasn’t that I was disliked; it was simply there was something about you that brings out trust and love in people. That is a good quality for a king to possess. I never envied the fact you would follow Father as Duke, nor do I now envy your crown. I once thought I might take some time after the war to travel, but now that will not be possible, for I must rule Krondor. So do not wish this additional burden of the entire Kingdom upon me. I would not take it.”

  “Still, you would make a better king.” Lyam caught Arutha’s gaze and held it.

  Arutha paused, frowned, then fixed his brother with a skeptical look. “Perhaps, but you are to be King, and I expect you will remain King for quite some time.” He stretched as he rose. “I am for bed. It has been a long and hard day.” Nearing the entrance to the tent, he said, “Ease your doubts, Lyam. You will be a good ruler. With Caldric to advise you, and the others, Kulgan, Tully, and Pug, you will lead us through this time of rebuilding.”

  Lyam said, “Arutha, before you go…” Arutha waited, as Lyam made a decision. “I wish you to go with Kulgan and Pug to Sorcerer’s Isle. You’ve been there once before, and…I’d like your judgment on what is found there.” Arutha was displeased and started to object. Lyam cut him off. “I know you wish to go to Krondor, but it will take only a few days. There will be twelve days between the time we reach Rillanon and the coronation, ample time for you to join us.”