The Complete Riftwar Saga Trilogy: Magician, Silverthorn, A Darkness at Sethanon

Borric said, ‘Then you risk much with your frank speech.’

Duke Kerus shrugged, indicating they should begin their return to the palace. ‘I have not always been a man to speak my mind, Lord Borric, but these are difficult times. Should anyone else have passed through, there would have been only polite conversation. You are unique, for with the Prince estranged from his nephew, you are the only man in the Kingdom with the strength and rank to possibly influence the King. I do not envy your weighty position, my friend.

‘When Rodric the Third was king, I was among the most powerful nobles in the East, but I might as well be a landless freebooter for all the influence I now hold in Rodric the Fourth’s court.’ Kerus paused. ‘Your black-hearted cousin Guy is now closest to the King, and the Duke of Bas-Tyra and I have little love between us. Our reasons for disliking one another are not as personal as yours. But as his star rises, mine falls even more.’

Kerus slapped his hands as the cold was beginning to bite. ‘But one bit of good news. Guy is wintering at his estate near Pointer’s Head, so the King is free of his plotting for the present.’ Kerus gripped Borric’s arm. ‘Use whatever influence you can muster to stem the King’s impulsive nature, Lord Borric, for with this invasion you bring word of, we need to stand united. A lengthy war would drain us of what little reserves we possess, and should the Kingdom be put to the test, I do not know whether it would endure.’

Borric said nothing, for even his worst fears since leaving the Prince were surpassed by Kerus’s remarks. The Duke of Salador said, ‘One last thing, Borric. With Erland having refused the crown thirteen years ago, and the rumors of his health failing, many of the Congress of Lords will be looking to you for guidance. Where you lead, many will follow, even some of us in the East.’

Borric said coldly, ‘Are you speaking of civil war?’

Kerus waved a hand, a pained expression crossing his face. His eyes seemed moist, as if near tears. ‘I am ever loyal to the crown, Borric, but if it comes to the right of things, the Kingdom must prevail. No one man is more important than the Kingdom.’

Borric said through clenched jaws, ‘The King is the Kingdom.’

Kerus said, ‘You would not be the man you are and say otherwise. I hope you are able to direct the King’s energies toward this trouble in the West, for should the Kingdom be imperiled, others will not hold to such lofty beliefs.’

Borric’s tone softened a little as they walked up the steps leading from the garden. ‘I know you mean well, Lord Kerus, and there is only love of the realm in your heart. Have faith and pray, for I will do whatever I can to ensure the survival of the Kingdom.’

Kerus stood before the door back into the palace. ‘I fear we will all be in deep water soon, my lord Borric. I pray that this invasion you speak of will not be the wave that drowns us. In whatever way I can aid you, I will.’ He turned toward the door, which was opened by a servant. Loudly he said, ‘I will bid you a good night, for I can see you’re all tired.’

The tension in the room was heavy as Borric, Arutha, and Pug reentered, and the Duke’s mood one of dark reflection. Servants came to show the guests to their rooms, and Pug followed a boy near his own age, dressed in the Duke’s livery. Pug looked over his shoulder as they left the hall to see the Duke and his son standing together, speaking quietly to Kulgan.

Pug was shown to a small but elegant room and, ignoring the richness of the bed covers, fell across them still fully clothed. The servant boy said, ‘Do you need aid in undressing, Squire?’

Pug sat up and looked at the boy with such a frank expression of wonder that the servant backed away a step. ‘If that will be all, Squire?’ he asked, obviously uncomfortable.

Pug just laughed. The boy stood uncertainly for an instant, then bowed and hurriedly left the room. Pug pulled off his clothing, wondering at the eastern nobles and servants who had to help them undress. He was too tired to fold his garments, simply letting them fall to the floor in a heap.

After blowing out the bedside candle, Pug lay for a time in the darkness, troubled by the evening’s discussion. He knew little of court intrigue, but knew that Kerus must have been deeply worried to speak as he did before strangers, in spite of Borric’s reputation as a man of high honor.

Pug thought of all the things that had taken place in the last months and knew that his dreams of the King answering the call of Crydee with banners flying were another boyish fancy shattered upon the hard rock of reality.

• CHAPTER THIRTEEN •

Rillanon

THE SHIP SAILED INTO THE HARBOR.

The climate of the Kingdom Sea was more clement than that of the Bitter Sea, and the journey from Salador had proven uneventful. They’d had to beat a tack much of the way against a steady northeast wind, so three weeks had passed instead of two.

Pug stood on the foredeck of the ship, his cloak pulled tightly around him. The winter wind’s bitterness had given way to a softer cool, as if spring were but a few days in coming.

Rillanon was called the Jewel of the Kingdom, and Pug judged the name richly deserved. Unlike the squat cities of the West, Rillanon stood a mass of tall spires, gracefully arched bridges, and gently twisting roadways, scattered atop rolling hills in delightful confusion. Upon heroic towers, banners and pennons fluttered in the wind, as if the city celebrated the simple fact of its own existence. To Pug, even the ferrymen who worked the barges going to and from the ships at anchor in the harbor were more colorful for being within the enchantment of Rillanon.

The Duke of Salador had ordered a ducal banner sewn for Borric, and it now flew from the top of the ship’s mainmast, informing the officials of the royal city that the Duke of Crydee had arrived. Borric’s ship was given priority in docking by the city’s harbor pilot, and quickly the ship was being secured at the royal quay. The party disembarked and were met by a company of the Royal Household Guard. At the head of the guards was an old, grey-haired, but still erect man, who greeted Borric warmly.

The two men embraced, and the older man, dressed in the royal purple and gold of the guard but with a ducal signet over his heart, said, ‘Borric, it is good to see you once more. What has it been? Ten . . . eleven years?’

‘Caldric, old friend. It has been thirteen.’ Borric regarded him fondly. He had clear blue eyes and a short salt-and-pepper beard.

The man shook his head and smiled. ‘It has been much too long.’ He looked at the others. Spying Pug, he said, ‘Is this your younger boy?’

Borric laughed. ‘No, though he would be no shame to me if he were.’ He pointed out the lanky figure of Arutha. ‘This is my son. Arutha, come and greet your great-uncle.’

Arutha stepped forward, and the two embraced. Duke Caldric, Lord of Rillanon, Knight-General of the King’s Royal Household Guard, and Royal Chancellor, pushed Arutha back and regarded him at arm’s length. ‘You were but a boy when I last saw you. I should have known you, for though you have some of your father’s looks, you also resemble my dear brother – your mother’s father – greatly. You do honor to my family.’

Borric said, ‘Well, old war-horse, how is your city?’

Caldric said, ‘There is much to speak of, but not here. We shall bring you to the King’s palace and quarter you in comfort. We shall have much time to visit. What brings you here to Rillanon?’

‘I have pressing business with His Majesty, but it is not something to be spoken of in the streets. Let us go to the palace.’

The Duke and his party were given mounts, and the escort cleared away the crowds as they rode through the city. If Krondor and Salador had impressed Pug with their splendor, Rillanon left him speechless.

The island city was built upon many hills, with several small rivers running down to the sea. It seemed to be a city of bridges and canals, as much as towers and spires. Many of the buildings seemed new, and Pug thought that this must be part of the King’s plan for rebuilding the city. At several points along the way he saw workers removing old stones from a building, or erecting new walls and roofs. The newer buildings were faced with colorful stonework, many of marble and quartz, giving them a soft white, blue, or pink color. The cobblestones in the streets were clean, and gutters ran free of the clogs and debris Pug had seen in the other cities. Whatever else he might be doing, the boy thought, the King is maintaining a marvelous city.

A river ran before the palace, so that entrance was made over a high bridge that arched across the water into the main courtyard. The palace was a collection of great buildings connected by long halls that sprawled atop a hillside in the center of the city. It was faced with many-colored stone, giving it a rainbow aspect.

As they entered the courtyard, trumpets sounded from the walls, and guards stood to attention. Porters stepped forward to take the mounts, while a collection of palace nobles and officials stood near the palace entrance in welcome.

Approaching, Pug noticed that the greeting given by these men was formal and lacked the personal warmth of Duke Caldric’s welcome. As he stood behind Kulgan and Meecham, he could hear Caldric’s voice. ‘My lord Borric, Duke of Crydee, may I present Baron Gray, His Majesty’s Steward of the Royal Household.’ This was a short, plump man in a tight-fitting tunic of red silk, and pale grey hose that bagged at the knees. ‘Earl Selvec, First Lord of the Royal Navies.’ A tall, gaunt man with a thin, waxed mustache bowed stiffly. And so on through the entire company. Each made a short statement of pleasure at Lord Borric’s arrival, but Pug felt there was little sincerity in their remarks.

They were taken to their quarters. Kulgan had to raise a fuss to have Meecham near him, for Baron Gray had wanted to send him to the distant servants’ wing of the palace, but he relented when Caldric asserted himself as Royal Chancellor.

The room that Pug was shown to far surpassed in splendor anything he had yet seen. The floors were polished marble, and the walls were made from the same material but flecked with what looked to be gold. A great mirror hung in a small room to one side of the sleeping quarters, where a large, gilded bathing tub sat. A steward put his few belongings – what they had picked up along the way since their own baggage had been lost in the forest – in a gigantic closet that could have held a dozen times all that Pug owned. After the man had finished, he inquired, ‘Shall I ready your bath, sir?’

Pug nodded, for three weeks aboard ship had made his clothes feel as if they were sticking to him. When the bath was ready, the steward said, ‘Lord Caldric will expect the Duke’s party for dinner in four hours’ time, sir. Shall I return then?’

Pug said yes, impressed with the man’s diplomacy. He knew only that Pug had arrived with the Duke, and left it to Pug to decide whether or not he was included in the dinner invitation.

As he slipped into the warm water, Pug let out a long sigh of relief. He had never been one for baths when he had been a keep boy, preferring to wash away dirt in the sea and the streams near the castle. Now he could learn to enjoy them. He mused about what Tomas would have thought of that. He drifted off in a warm haze of memories, one very pleasant, of a dark-haired, lovely princess, and one sad, of a sandy-haired boy.

The dinner of the night before had been an informal occasion, with Duke Caldric hosting Lord Borric’s party. Now they stood in the royal throne room waiting to be presented to the King. The hall was vast, a high vaulted affair, with the entire southern wall fashioned of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Hundreds of nobles stood around as the Duke’s party was led down a central aisle between the onlookers.

Pug had not thought it possible to consider Duke Borric poorly dressed, for he had always worn the finest clothing in Crydee, as had his children. But among the finery in evidence around the room, Borric looked like a raven amid a flock of peacocks. Here a pearl-studded doublet, there a gold-thread-embroidered tunic – each noble seemed to be outdoing the next. Every lady wore the costliest silks and brocades, but only slightly outshone the men.

They halted before the throne, and Caldric announced the Duke. The King smiled, and Pug was struck by a faint resemblance to Arutha, though the King’s manner was more relaxed. He leaned forward on his throne and said, ‘Welcome to our city, cousin. It is good to see Crydee in this hall after so many years.’

Borric stepped forward and knelt before Rodric the Fourth, King of the Kingdom of the Isles. ‘I am gladdened to see Your Majesty well.’

A brief shadow passed over the monarch’s face, then he smiled again. ‘Present to us your companions.’

The Duke presented his son, and the King said, ‘Well, it is true that one of the conDoin line carries the blood of our mother’s kin besides ourself.’ Arutha bowed and backed away. Kulgan was next as one of the Duke’s advisers. Meecham, who had no rank in the Duke’s court, had stayed in his room. The King said something polite, and Pug was introduced. ‘Squire Pug of Crydee, Your Majesty, Master of Forest Deep, and member of my court.’

The King clapped his hands together and laughed. ‘The boy who kills trolls. How wonderful. Travelers have carried the tale from the far shores of Crydee, and we would hear it spoken by the author of the brave deed. We must meet later so that you may tell us of this marvel.’

Pug bowed awkwardly, feeling a thousand eyes upon him. There had been times before when he had wished the troll story had not been spread, but never so much as now.

He backed away, and the King said, ‘Tonight we will hold a ball to honor the arrival of our cousin Borric.’

He stood, arranging his purple robes around him, and pulled his golden chain of office over his head. A page placed the chain on a purple velvet cushion. The King then lifted his golden crown from his black-tressed head and handed it to another page.

The crowd bowed as he stepped down from his throne. ‘Come, cousin,’ he said to Borric, ‘let us retire to my private balcony, where we can speak without all the rigors of office. I grow weary of the pomp.’

Borric nodded and fell in next to the King, motioning Pug and the others to wait. Duke Caldric announced that the day’s audience was at an end, and that those with petitions for the King should return the next day.

Slowly the crowd moved out the two great doors at the end of the hall, while Arutha, Kulgan, and Pug stood by. Caldric approached and said, ‘I will show you to a room where you may wait. It would be well for you to stay close, should His Majesty call for your attendance.’

A steward of the court took them through a small door near the one the King had escorted Borric through. They entered a large, comfortable room with a long table in the center laden with fruit, cheese, bread, and wine. At the table were many chairs, and around the edge of the room were several divans, with plump cushions piled upon them.

Arutha crossed over to large glass doors and peered through them. ‘I can see Father and the King sitting on the royal balcony.’

Kulgan and Pug joined him and looked to where Arutha indicated. The two men were at a table, overlooking the city and the sea beyond. The King was speaking with expansive gestures, and Borric nodded as he listened.

Pug said, ‘I had not expected that His Majesty would look like you, Your Highness.’

Arutha replied with a wry smile, ‘It is not so surprising when you consider that, as my father was cousin to his father, so my mother was cousin to his mother.’

Kulgan put his hand on Pug’s shoulder. ‘Many of the noble families have more than one tie between them, Pug. Cousins who are four and five times removed will marry for reasons of politics and bring the families closer again. I doubt there is one noble family in the East that can’t claim some relationship to the crown, though it may be distant and follow along a twisted route.’

They returned to the table, and Pug nibbled at a piece of cheese. ‘The King seems in good humor,’ he said, cautiously approaching the subject all had on their minds.

Kulgan looked pleased at the circumspect manner of the boy’s comment, for after leaving Salador, Borric had cautioned them all regarding Duke Kerus’s remarks. He had ended his admonition with the old adage, ‘In the halls of power, there are no secrets, and even the deaf can hear.’

Arutha said, ‘Our monarch is a man of moods; let us hope he stays in a good one after he hears Father’s tidings.’

The afternoon slowly passed as they awaited word from the Duke. When the shadows outside had grown long, Borric suddenly appeared at a door. He crossed over to stand before them, a troubled expression on his face. ‘His Majesty spent most of the afternoon explaining his plans for the rebirth of the Kingdom.’

Arutha said, ‘Did you tell him of the Tsurani?’

The Duke nodded. ‘He listened and then calmly informed me that he would consider the matter. We will speak again in a day or so was all he said.’

Kulgan said, ‘At least he seemed in good humor.’

Borric regarded his old adviser. ‘I fear too good. I expected some sign of alarm. I do not ride across the Kingdom for minor cause, but he seemed unmoved by what I had to tell him.’

Kulgan looked worried. ‘We are overlong on this journey as it is. Let us hope that His Majesty will not take long in deciding upon a course of action.’

Borric sat heavily in a chair and reached for a glass of wine. ‘Let us hope.’

Pug walked through the door to the King’s private quarters, his mouth dry with anticipation. He was to have his interview with King Rodric in a few minutes, and he was unsettled to be alone with the ruler of the Kingdom. Each time he had been close to other powerful nobles, he had hidden in the shadow of the Duke or his son, coming forward to tell briefly what he knew of the Tsurani, then able to disappear quickly back into the background. Now he was to be the only guest of the most powerful man north of the Empire of Great Kesh.

A house steward showed him through the door to the King’s private balcony. Several servants stood around the edge of the large open veranda, and the King occupied the lone table, a carved marble affair under a large canopy.

The day was clear. Spring was coming early, as winter had before it, and there was a hint of warmth in the gusting air. Below the balcony, past the hedges and stone walls that marked its edge, Pug could see the city of Rillanon and the sea beyond. The colorful rooftops shone brightly in the midday sun, as the last snows had melted completely over the last four days. Ships sailed in and out of the harbor, and the streets teemed with citizens. The faint cries of merchants and hawkers, shouting over the noise of the streets, floated up to become a soft buzzing where the King took his midday meal.

As Pug approached the table, a servant pulled out a chair. The King turned and said, ‘Ah! Squire Pug, please take a seat.’ Pug began a bow, and the King said, ‘Enough. I don’t stand on formality when I dine with a friend.’

Pug hesitated, then said, ‘Your Majesty honors me,’ as he sat.

Rodric waved the comment way. ‘I remember what it is to be a boy in the company of men. When I was but a little older than you, I took the crown. Until then I was only my father’s son.’ His eyes got a distant look for a moment. ‘The Prince, it’s true, but still only a boy. My opinion counted for nothing, and I never seemed to satisfy my father’s expectations, in hunting, riding, sailing, or swordplay. I took many a hiding from my tutors, Caldric among them. That all changed when I became King, but I still remember what it was like.’ He turned toward Pug, and the distant expression vanished as he smiled. ‘And I do wish us to be friends.’ He glanced away and again his expression turned distant. ‘One can’t have too many friends, now, can one? And since I’m the King, there are so many who claim to be my friend, but aren’t.’ He was silent a moment, then again came out of his revery. ‘What do you think of my city?’

Pug said, ‘I have never seen anything like it, Majesty. It’s wonderful.’

Rodric looked out across the vista before them. ‘Yes, it is, isn’t it?’ He waved a hand, and a servant poured wine into crystal goblets. Pug sipped at his; he still hadn’t developed a taste for wine, but found this very good, light and fruity with a hint of spices. Rodric said, ‘I have tried very hard to make Rillanon a wonderful place for those who live here. I would have the day come when all the cities of the Kingdom are as fine as this, where everywhere the eye travels, there is beauty. It would take a hundred lifetimes to do that, so I can only set the pattern, building an example for those who follow to imitate. But where I find brick, I leave marble. And those who see it will know it for what it is – my legacy.’

The King seemed to ramble a bit, and Pug wasn’t sure of all that he was saying as he continued to talk about buildings and gardens and removing ugliness from view. Abruptly the King changed topics. ‘Tell me how you killed the trolls.’

Pug told him, and the King seemed to hang on every word. When the boy had finished, the King said, ‘That is a wonderful tale. It is better than the versions that have reached the court, for while it is not half so heroic, it is twice as impressive for being true. You have a stout heart, Squire Pug.’

Pug said, ‘Thank you, Majesty.’

Rodric said, ‘In your tale you mentioned the Princess Carline.’

‘Yes, Majesty?’

‘I have not seen her since she was a baby in her mother’s arms. What sort of woman has she become?’

Pug found the shift in topic surprising, but said, ‘She has become a beautiful woman, Majesty, much like her mother. She is bright and quick, if given to a little temper.’

The King nodded. ‘Her mother was a beautiful woman. If the daughter is half as lovely, she is lovely indeed. Can she reason?’

Pug looked confused. ‘Majesty?’

‘Has she a good head for reason, logic? Can she argue?’

Pug nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, Your Majesty. The Princess is very good at that.’

The King rubbed his hands together. ‘Good. I must have Borric send her for a visit. Most of these eastern ladies are vapid, without substance. I was hoping Borric gave the girl an education. I would like to meet a young woman who knew logic and philosophy, and could argue and declaim.’

Pug suddenly realized what the King had meant by arguing wasn’t what he had thought. He decided it best not to mention the discrepancy.

The King continued. ‘My ministers dun me to seek a wife and give the Kingdom an heir. I have been busy, and frankly, have found little to interest me in the court ladies – oh, they’re fine for a moonlight walk and . . . other things. But as the mother of my heirs? I hardly think so. But I should become serious in my search for a queen. Perhaps the only conDoin daughter would be the logical place to start.’

Pug began to mention another conDoin daughter, then stifled the impulse, remembering the tension between the King and Anita’s father. Besides, the girl was only seven.

The King shifted topics again. ‘For four days cousin Borric has regaled me with tales of these aliens, these Tsurani. What do you think of all this business?’

Pug looked startled. He had not thought the King might ask him for an opinion on anything, let alone a matter as important as the security of the Kingdom. He thought for a long moment, trying to frame his answer as best he could, then said, ‘From everything I have seen and heard, Your Majesty, I think these Tsurani people not only are planning to invade, but are already here.’

The King raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh? I would like to hear your reasoning.’

Pug considered his words carefully. ‘If there have been as many sightings as we are aware of, Majesty, considering the stealth these people are employing, wouldn’t it be logical that there are many more occurrences of their coming and going than we know of?’