The King's Buccaneer

  “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.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.” He grinned. “See, I think Pug is a very smart man, not because he’s so powerful, but because he knows how much he doesn’t know yet. He understands that he’s passed beyond his training.” Nakor fixed one squinting eye on Anthony. “I think you also could move past your training should you but come to understand one thing.”

  “What?”

  “There is no magic. There is only this stuff that makes up the universe, and magic is what less enlightened people call it when they 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 his hand again. “Then begin once more, and do it all again. In that last space, it would be so very small, there is where you would find stuff.”

  “That is small,” admitted Anthony.

  “If one could but look, that is where you would see it.”

  “How did you discover this stuff?”

  “As a small boy I just could do things, my tricks. I was a mischievous child, and I would spill a bucket of water, or put a sleeping cat on the roof of a hut. My father, who was an important man in our village, sent to the city of Shing Lai for a priest of the 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 there: anyone can learn.”

  Anthony shook his head. “I think I would fail should you try to teach me.”

  “I’m already teaching you.” Nakor laughed. “It is that stuff that I was talking to in the sick man below. There is energy in everything, this stuff I can manipulate.” Opening his sack, he said, “Reach in and get another orange.”

  Anthony reached into the bag and said, “There’s nothing there!”

  Nakor said, “It’s a trick. Close your eyes.” Anthony complied. “Can you 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, then 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.”

  Nakor took the rucksack off his shoulder and handed it to Anthony. “Look inside.”

  Anthony thoroughly examined the heavy felted wool bag, and at last said, “I can’t see the false bottom.” Wadding up the fabric, he said, “And I can’t feel any false compartment.”

  “There is none,” said Nakor with a laugh. “You moved aside a layer of stuff and found a small passage through to another place.”

  “Where?”

  “A warehouse in Ashunta where I 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 filled 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.”

  “You lack discipline,” observed Anthony.

  “Perhaps, but your spellcasting is nothing more than getting your mind oriented so you can manipulate stuff. You just didn’t know that’s what you were doing. I think Pug found out. He’s not bound by your Greater Path and Lesser Path and this path and that path nonsense. He knows that you just reach out and take a hold on the stuff and move it around.”

  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 Calis, pointing.

  Nicholas squinted against the setting sun, and there upon the horizon was a tiny speck of black. “Is that them?” he asked.

  Amos said, “Unless friend Anthony is deluding us with his magic, it is.”

  “When will we overtake them?” asked Harry.

  Amos rubbed his chin. “Hard to guess. Let’s see how much distance we 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 weather eye out for lights.”

  “Aye, Captain,” came the answer.

  “Now we wait,” said Amos to those nearby.

  12

  DISASTER

  The lookout pointed.

  “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.”

  Amos spoke low. “You’ve got younger eyes than I, elf.”

  Calis said nothing, but he ventured a slight smile at being called an elf. Then he pointed. “There!”

  In the blue-grey morning a single dot could be seen, a black speck that was recognized as a ship and sails only by those who had spent years on 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 told, sailors leaped up and climbed the ratlines into the rigging to trim the sails aloft, while those on deck hauled 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 wind. We’re faster off that line, running a tighter reach, but on the same line as she is, well, we’re faster, but not by much.”

  “What about taking off on a broad reach, then coming about and cutting her off?”

  Amos smiled. “This isn’t a boat race in the harbor, Nicky. There’s a lot of ocean out there, and by the time we’d come back to where we expect her 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.

  He returned to the bow and found everyone still there, eyes fixed on the black speck before them. Calis and Marcus were both as still as statues, while Harry hummed a nameless tune. Brisa kept one hand on Marcus’s shoulder, and he didn’t seem to notice. Ghuda had his sword out and was polishing it with a cloth he always carried. Nakor and Anthony simply watched.

  Nicholas studied Anthony’s face. The magician’s expression was focused, as if he was trying to see something in the distance.

  —

  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 it. It’s just the way Anthony reached out to me, that’s all.”

  Abigail’s expression showed she didn’t understand. She rose and went over to the window, peering out across the ocean. “They’re back there somewhere.”

  Margaret came and stood next to her. “Yes.” Then her eyes narrowed. “There!” she said, trying to rein in her excitement. “That small black speck!”

  Abigail looked for a long time before she whispered, “I see it. It’s them!”

  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!”

  Amos said, “Bring her a bit to port, Mr. Rhodes.”

  Nicholas shouted from the bow, “What’s she doing?”

  Amos shook his head, indicating he didn’t know. Then he called to the lookout, “Keep a sharp eye out for reefs!” Turning to his first mate, he said, “Extra lookouts aloft and in the bow, Mr. 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.”

  Amos motioned for Nicholas and his companions to gather around him. “Ghuda here has the most experience as a soldier, so I advise you all to stay close to him.” Looking at Nicholas, Marcus, and Harry, he said, “Don’t get excited and try to win this thing by yourself. That’s one hell of a big ship, and she could be carrying as many as a hundred armed men besides her normal crew.” Looking over his shoulder at the crew busy on deck, he added, “My lads are as tough as they are good, so they’ll take care of themselves.” He glanced at the distant ship. “This sort of thing can change 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 rail so the others can climb up without getting their heads split. Stay close and watch each other’s backs, because there’s no line of battle. The man behind 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.”

  “No doubt,” said Anthony dryly, but he nodded agreement to Ghuda’s suggestion.

  Ghuda now addressed Calis and Marcus. “You two can help the most by getting into the rigging and using your bows. Pick your targets, because if that ship is carrying guards, they’ll surely have crossbowmen in the rigging.”

  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.”

  Nicholas said, “I saw you do it at Crydee.”


  Harry was forced to nod agreement. Mentioning the exhausted state they had endured—seemingly without end—while working to help those left alive after the raid put them all in a somber mood. Even Brisa, standing quietly off to one side, was without a joke or comment.

  Nicholas looked at the distant ship and wondered what they would find 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 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 something 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?”

  Margaret shook her head and reached out to close the window. Whispering in return, she said, “I think they may be close enough early in the morning. We’ll try then if they keep coming at the same rate. That’ll put them less than a mile behind us and we can swim to meet them easily.”

  Abigail didn’t look convinced, but she nodded.

  The door opened and Arjuna entered. “Ladies,” he said, bowing in his 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, they removed hammers from their belts and drove large nails into the window frame.