Erik pointed and Roo nodded at those ships moving away from their own as the Freeport Ranger was given right of way to the royal docks below the palace. One of the older sailors laughed and Roo turned to ask, “What?”
“Prince Nicky’s going to irritate the Harbormaster again.” Erik, his hair almost bleached white by the sun, looked at the sailor, who had blue eyes that stood out in stark contrast to his sunburned face. “What do you mean?”
The sailor pointed. “There’s the Harbormaster’s prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:36 AM Page 11
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launch.” Roo looked to where the man pointed. “He’s not slowing to pick up a pilot!”
The sailor laughed. “The Admiral is his teacher’s student. Old Admiral Trask used to do the same thing, but he’d at least allow the pilot up on deck so he could personally irritate him by refusing to take a tow into the dock. Admiral Nicky’s the King’s brother, so he doesn’t even bother with that formality.”
Roo and Erik glanced upward and saw that old sailors were standing by waiting to reef in the last sails on the Admiral’s command. Roo then looked to the poop deck and saw Nicholas, formerly Prince of Krondor and presently Admiral of the King’s Fleet in the West, give the signal. Instantly the old hands pulled up the heavy canvas and tied off. Within seconds Roo and the others on the deck could feel the ship’s speed begin to fall off as they neared the royal docks located below the royal palace of the Prince.
The Ranger’s motion continued to drop off, but to Roo it felt as if they were still moving into the docks too fast. The old sailor spoke as if reading his mind.
“We’re pushing a lot of water into the quay, and that’ll push back as we come alongside the docks, slowing us down to almost a full stop, though she’ll make the cleats groan a bit.” He made ready to throw a line to those waiting on the dock ahead. “Lend a hand!”
Roo and Erik each grabbed another line and waited for the command. When Nicholas shouted, “Cast away!” Roo threw to a man on the dockside, who caught the rope expertly and quickly made it fast to a large iron cleat. As the old sailor said, when the line went taut the iron cleats seemed to groan as the wooden docks were flexed, but the bow wake prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:36 AM Page 12
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returned from the stone quay and the huge ship seemed to settle in with a single rocking motion, as if it sighed in relief that it was good to be home.
Erik turned to Roo. “Wonder what the Harbormaster will say to the Admiral.”
Roo glanced aft as the Admiral made his way to the main deck, and considered the question. The first time Roo had seen the man had been at Erik’s and Roo’s trial for the murder of Erik’s half brother, Stefan. The second time he had seen him had been when the survivors of the mercenary company to which Roo and Erik belonged had been rescued from a fishing smack outside the harbor of the city of Maharta. Having served under the Admiral on the voyage homeward, Roo’s opinion was “He’ll probably say nothing, go home, and get drunk.”
Erik laughed. He also knew that Nicholas was a man of calm authority, who could embarrass a sub-ordinate to the point of tears with a stare and no words spoken, a trait he shared with Calis, the Captain of Roo and Erik’s company, the Crimson Eagles.
Of the original company, numbering in the hundreds, fewer than fifty men survived—the six who had fled with Calis and some stragglers who had found their way to the City of the Serpent River before the Freeport Ranger had departed for Krondor. Nicholas’s other ship, Trenchard’s Revenge, had remained in the harbor at the City of the Serpent River for an extra month, in case more men from Calis’s troop found their way there. Any who were not there when she weighed anchor would be considered to be dead.
The gangplank was run out, and Roo and Erik prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:36 AM Page 13
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watched as Nicholas and Calis were the first to dis-embark. On the dock waited Patrick, Prince of Krondor, his uncle Prince Erland— nephew and brother respectively to Nicholas—and other members of the royal court of Krondor.
Erik said, “Not much of a show, is it?”
Roo could only nod. A lot of men had died to bring back the information Nicholas carried to his nephew, the Prince. And from what Roo knew, it was scant information at best. He turned his attention to the royal family.
Nicholas, formerly Prince of Krondor until his nephew had come from the capital of the Kingdom of the Isles to assume the office, looked nothing like his brother. Erland’s hair was mostly grey, but there was enough red remaining to reveal its original hue.
Nicholas, likewise going grey, was a man of dark hair and intense features. Patrick, the new Prince of Krondor, was somewhere between his two uncles in appearance, darker of skin than both, but his hair was a middle brown in color. He seemed to have something of Erland’s powerful build and Nicholas’s intensity.
“No,” said Roo, “you’re right; not much by way of ceremony.”
Erik nodded. “Then again, by now they all know there’s not much glory in any of this. The Prince and his uncle are probably both anxious to hear what news Calis and Nicholas have.”
Roo sighed agreement. “None of it good. It’s all bloody business and it’s going to get worse.”
A friendly slap to the back caused both Roo and Erik to turn. Robert de Loungville stood behind the two young men, grinning in a way that up until prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:36 AM Page 14
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recently made both men expect the worst, but this time they knew he was merely showing the more affable side of his nature. He kept his receding hair cropped close to his skull, and he needed a shave.
“Where to, lads?”
Roo jingled a purse of gold tucked into his tunic.
“I think a good glass of ale, the tender touch of a bad woman, and then I’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.”
Erik shrugged. “I’ve been thinking, and I want to take up your offer, Sergeant.”
“Good,” said de Loungville, sergeant of Calis’s company. He had offered Erik a place in the army, but in a special command being formed by Calis, Prince Nicholas’s mysterious and not-quite-human ally. “Come by Lord James’s office at midday tomorrow. I’ll leave word at the palace gate you’re to be admitted.”
Roo studied the men on the dock. “Our Prince is an impressive-looking man.”
Erik said, “I know what you mean. He and his father both look the sort who have been in some serious places.”
De Loungville said, “Never let their rank fool you, lads. Erland and our King, and their sons after them, spent their time along the northern borders fighting goblins and the Brotherhood of the Dark Path.” He used the common name for the moredhel, the dark elves who lived on the far side of the mountains known as the Teeth of the World. “I heard that the King got into some serious business down in Kesh once, a run-in with slavers or some such thing.
Whatever it was, he came out of it with a good opinion of the common man, for a king.
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“We haven’t had a court-bred king since King Rodric, before old King Lyam took the throne, and that was before I was born. These are tough men who’ve spent some time soldiering, and it’ll take a few more generations before any in this family becomes soft. The Captain will see to that.” There was something in his voice that hinted at strong emotions; Roo glanced at the sergeant and tried to glean what it was, but de Loungville’s expression had returned to a broad grin.
“What are you thinking?” asked Erik of Roo, his best friend since childhood.
Roo said, “Just how funny families can be.” He pointed to the group on the dock, listening carefully to Nicholas.
Erik said, “Notice our Captain.”
Roo nodded. He knew Erik meant Calis. The elflike man stood off to one side, wit
h just enough distance between himself and the others to be apart, yet close enough to answer questions when asked.
Robert de Loungville said, “He’s been my friend for twenty years. He found me serving with Daniel Troville, Lord Highcastle, and dragged me away from the border wars to go to the strangest places a man can imagine. I’ve been with him longer than any man in his company, eaten cold rations with him, slept beside him, watched men die in his arms, even had him carry me for two days after the fall of Hamsa, but I can’t say I know the man.”
Erik asked, “Is it true he’s part elf?”
De Loungville rubbed his chin. “I can’t say I know the truth of that. He told me his father came from Crydee originally; a kitchen boy, he claims. He doesn’t talk about his past much. Mostly he plans for prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:36 AM Page 16
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the future, and takes barracks rats like you two and turns them into soldiers. But it’s worthwhile. I wasn’t much more than a barracks rat myself when he found me. Worked up from that to my grand station today.” He said the last with an even broader grin, as if he were nothing more than a common sergeant and that remark a joke, but both Erik and Roo had been told he carried high court rank in addition to his military rank. “So I never asked too many personal questions. He’s very much what you might call a
‘right now’ sort of fellow.” De Loungville’s voice lowered, as if Calis might somehow overhear from down on the dock, and his expression turned serious.
“He does have those pointy ears. Still, I never heard of any such being—half-man, half-elf— yet he can do things no other man I know can do.” He grinned again as he said, “But he’s saved all our hides more times than I can count, so who’s to care what his line is? Your station at birth means nothing. A man can’t change that. What’s important is how you live.” He slapped both young men on the shoulder. “You were worthless dogmeat when I found you, fit only for starving crows, but look at you now!”
Erik and Roo exchanged looks, then laughed.
Both were wearing the same clothing they had worn when escaping the destruction of the city of Maharta, oft patched, stained beyond cleaning, reducing both men to the appearance of common street thugs.
Roo said, “We’re two men in need of some fresh clothing. Save Erik’s boots, we look the part of ragpickers.”
Erik glanced down and said, “And these need mending.” The boots were all he had left from the Baron of Darkmoor’s legacy, a grudging admission prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:36 AM Page 17
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to Erik of his paternity, along with not denying Erik the right to call himself “von Darkmoor.” The boots were riding boots, but Erik had walked enough to wear the heels down to nearly nothing, and the leather was weather-beaten and cracked.
Sho Pi, an Isalani from the Empire of Great Kesh, came upon deck from below, carrying his own travel bag. Behind him came Nakor, also an Isalani, and the man Sho Pi had decided was destined to be his “master.” He appeared old, but moved with a spry step and quickness that both Erik and Roo knew well. He had instructed them in hand-to-hand combat, and Roo and Erik knew that the odd little man, as well as Sho Pi, was as dangerous unarmed as most men were with weapons. Roo was convinced he had never seen Nakor move as fast as possible, and wasn’t sure he would welcome such a demonstration. Roo was a gifted student of the open-handed school of fighting practiced in the Isalani provinces of Kesh, only sur-passed by Sho Pi and Nakor in Calis’s company, but he knew either man could easily defeat him with a quick killing blow.
“I am not going to have you trailing around behind me, boy!” insisted the bandy-legged Nakor, yelling over his shoulder. “I haven’t been to a city in nearly twenty years that wasn’t being burned to the ground or overrun by soldiers or otherwise unpleasant in some fashion, and I intend to enjoy myself awhile. Then I’m going back to Sorcerer’s Isle.”
Sho Pi, a head taller than Nakor, and in possession of a full head of dark hair, otherwise looked like a much younger version of the wiry little man. He said, “Whatever you say, Master.”
“Don’t call me master,” insisted Nakor, putting prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:36 AM Page 18
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his own travel bag over his shoulder. Moving to the rail, he said, “Erik, Roo! Where are you going?”
“To get a drink, a whore, and new clothing, in that order,” said Roo.
“Then I’m going home to see my mother and friends,” said Erik.
“What about you?” asked Roo.
“I’m going with you,” Nakor said, hoisting his bag, “until the ‘going home’ part. Then I shall hire a boat to take me to Sorcerer’s Isle.” He looked straight down the gangway, ignoring the younger country-man, a step behind.
Erik glanced at Sho Pi and said, “We’ve got to go below and get our kits. Then we’ll join you on the dock.”
Roo was a step ahead of his friend as they hurried below, bade farewell to the sailors who had become friends, and found Jadow Shati, another of their company of “desperate men,” just finishing gathering up his few possessions.
“What are you going to do?” asked Roo as he quickly grabbed his small kit.
“A drink, I’m thinking.”
“Join us,” said Erik.
“I think I will, as soon as I tell Mr. Robert de Loungville, the little swine, that I’m taking up his offer of becoming his corporal.”
Erik blinked. “Corporal? He offered me the position.”
Before the two men could begin arguing, Roo said, “From what he said, he’s going to need more than one.”
The two large men exchanged glances, then both laughed. Jadow’s face settled into a grin, teeth dra-
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matically white against his ebony skin, an expression so happy that it always made Roo smile in response.
Like the other desperate men, Jadow had been a killer and lifelong criminal, but in the brotherhood of Calis’s company he had found men for whom he was willing to die and who would die for him.
Roo hated to admit it, as one who flattered himself for being completely selfish, but he loved the survivors of that company almost as much as he loved Erik. Rough men all, dangerous by any standards, they had passed through a bloody trial together, and each knew he could depend on the others.
Roo thought about those lost on the journey: Biggo, the large, laughing thug with a strange streak of piety running through him: Jerome Handy, a giant of a man with a violent temper who could tell a tale like an actor and make shadow play on the wall that came alive; Billy Goodwin, an otherwise gentle youth with a violent temper, who had been cut down in a pointless accident before ever understanding anything of life; and Luis de Savona, the Rodezian cutthroat whose wit was as sharp as his dagger, who knew both court intrigue and dark-alley brawls; a man of temper and strange loyalties. Roo tied his bundle and turned to see both Erik and Jadow watching him.
“What is it?”
“You were lost there a moment,” said Erik.
“I was thinking about Biggo and the others. . .”
Erik nodded. “I understand.”
“Maybe some of them will show up when Trenchard’s Revenge gets here,” ventured Jadow.
Roo said, “That would be fine.” Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he added, “But Billy and Biggo prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:36 AM Page 20
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won’t.”
Erik nodded. He and Roo had watched Biggo die in Maharta, and Erik had seen Billy fall from his horse, cracking his head on a rock.
The three men were silent as they climbed back on deck and hurried down the gangway to find Robert de Loungville chatting with Nakor and Sho Pi.
“Hey now, you vile runt of a man!” said Jadow without ceremony to the man who for nearly three years had controlled his
life.
De Loungville turned. “Who are you talking to like that, you Valeman scum!”
“You, Bobby de Loungville, Sergeant sir!”
snapped back Jadow, but Erik could easily see the mocking humor in both men’s expressions. Battle had made him very aware of his companions’ every mood, and he knew they were having fun with each other. “And who are you calling ‘scum’? We men of the Vale are the best fighting men in the world, don’t you know, and we are usually wiping our boots to clean them of something that resembles you.” He sniffed loudly, bending forward as if to make sure de Loungville was the source of the offending odor.
“Yes, very much like you.”
De Loungville grabbed one of Jadow’s cheeks and pinched it as a mother does a child’s, saying,
“You’re so lovely I should kiss you.” Playfully slapping him on the face, he said, “But not today.”
To the group, de Loungville said, “Where are you off to?”
“Drinks!” said Nakor with a grin.
De Loungville rolled his eyes heavenward. “Well, don’t kill anyone.” He asked Jadow, “You coming prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:36 AM Page 21
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back?”
Jadow grinned. “I don’t know why, but yes.”
His own smile vanishing, de Loungville said,
“You know exactly why.”
Instantly all humor fled. Each man had seen exactly what the others had, and all knew that a terrible enemy gathered across the sea, and that no matter how much had been accomplished in recent months, the struggle had only just started. A decade or more might pass before the final confrontation with the armies gathered under the banner of the Emerald Queen, but eventually every man living in the Kingdom would either stand and fight or die.
After a moment’s silence, de Loungville waved them down the street. “Get away with you. Don’t have too much fun.” As the men walked off, he called after, “Erik, you and Jadow be back here tomorrow to get your papers. On the day after, you’re deserters!
And you know we hang deserters!”
“That man,” said Jadow as they moved down the street in search of an inn. “Always with them threats.