The King's Buccaneer

  Pug nodded, his expression thoughtful. “William and I had a falling out over his choice to be a soldier. He has some strange and powerful gifts.”

  Nicholas said, “Father told me something about it, but I’m not sure I understand.”

  Pug’s smile returned. “I’m not sure I do, either, Nicholas. For all my skills, being a father—at least with William—may have been a little beyond me. I insisted he study at Stardock and he would have none of it.” Pug 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.”

  Nicholas grinned. “Well, Highness, the other news is that your daughter has given birth to her third child.”

  Pug’s smile broadened. “A boy?”

  Nicholas said, “At last. Uncle Jimmy loves his two girls, but he really wanted a son this time.”

  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 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 Pug with an expression that Nicholas could only call alarm. Something the little man said had frightened her badly.

  Pug held up one finger to his lips in the gesture for silence, and Nakor glanced at Ghuda and Nicholas. With an embarrassed laugh, he said, “Sorry.”

  Nicholas looked at Ghuda, who said, “I never ask.”

  Pug said, “Amos and 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 falling 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.”

  Amos spoke on everyone’s behalf. “We gave no warning of our approach, so nothing you offered would be lacking.”

  Pug said, “You are kind, Admiral.”

  Nicholas said, “I thought Father had some means to contact you.”

  Pug said, “In an emergency only, Highness, and then only at great 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 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.

  As Amos started telling his third tale of adventure and wonder, Pug said, “If you will excuse me for a moment. Nakor, might I have a word in private with you?”

  The little Isalani jumped to his feet and hurried toward the door Pug had indicated. They entered another of the many gardens on the property, and Pug said, “I have been told that this visit was your idea?”

  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 perspective, I decided not to disturb his meditations. But I watched him for a few minutes. He was a thing of beauty, like your Lady Ryana.” He shook his head. “Wonderful creatures. Some men count them gods, I have been told. I would like to talk to one.”

  Pug said, “Ryana is young, just having come to intelligence after years of living as a wild creature, in the fashion of her race; she is barely able to understand her own nature or her new 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.”

  “My words?”

  “Once you told a man named James that should he meet someone like me, he should say, ‘There is no magic.’ ” Pug nodded. “So when he said this thing to me, I went to Stardock, to find you. You were gone, but I stayed there awhile. I found many serious men who did not understand that magic is only tricks.”

  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 calling 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.”

  Nakor nodded. “They like being mysterious and pretending they’re important.”

  Pug laughed. “Oh, had you visited me upon Kelewan, so many years past, you would have said worse about me.”

  “I’ve met some of your Great Ones,” answered Nakor. “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.”

  Pug shook his head, not certain if the little man meant Kelewan or Stardock. “For nearly nine years I have put my past behind me. My children now look of an age with me, and soon will look older. I’ve seen my wife die, and my teachers. Old friends on two worlds have traveled into death’s hall. I have no wish to watch my children grow old.” Pug stood and paced a bit. “I do not know if I was wise, Nakor, only that I feared that more than anything.”

  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 Diiagái. 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 moments when I know. Nicholas is upon a voyage that will take him far beyond Crydee. And there is to be much danger in the boy’s future.”

  Pug was silent for a long time, thinking about what the small man had said. Finally he said, “What must I do to help?”

  Nakor shook his head. “I am not a wise man by nature. I have been called a frivolous man—by Watum and Korsh, and by Ghuda most recently.” 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. “I 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 years 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 those invading your Kingdom had a Pantathian mystic as an adviser.”

  “You know of the Pantathians?”

  “I have run across the serpent priests before,” Nakor said with a shrug. “I assume that whatever your dark elves of the north may have thought, it was the Pantathians who were behind the entire mess, but beyond that I don’t understand much of what occurred.”

  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.”

  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?”

  Nakor said, “I am one of the nine. No man may know his own fate.”

  Pug said, “You never met Macros the Black.”

  Nakor grinned, and suddenly the mood was lighter again. “I did once, but that is a long story.”

  Pug stood. “We must return to my guests. I would like to hear that tale 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.

  Pug called for coffee and a fortified wine, and the discussion turned again to mundane matters of common gossip in Krondor. After a short while, yawns gave evidence that the guests were ready to retire.

  Pug bade his guests good night and gave his hand to the Lady Ryana, whom he escorted from the hall. Nicholas and his companions rose and made their way back to their own rooms. Nicholas discovered the bedding turned down and candles lit upon the night tables. Across the foot of the 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 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.”

  Nicholas looked out Harry’s window and saw the Lady Ryana standing in the distant meadow. Harry said, “She was making these really strange noises, like chanting or singing, but not quite.” There was no mistaking the golden hair, almost aglow in the light from two of Midkemia’s moons. Nicholas’s mouth almost fell open. “She’s nude!”

  Harry stared. “She had clothes
on a moment ago, honestly!” The lady 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 feel 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 light 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 the 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. Golden scales gleamed with silver highlights in the moons’ light, and a long neck with silver crest extended, as the reptilian head looked skyward. Then with a leap, a snap of the giant wings, and a small blast of flame, the dragon lifted into the sky.

  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 skies 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?”