The Riftwar Legacy: The Complete 4-Book Collection. Raymond E. Feist

shrugged and replied, ‘I don’t know. He’s fascinating, if a little odd at times, and he’s taught me a few things.’

      ‘Oh?’ asked Owyn, his voice registering both curiosity and disapproval.

      She punched him in the shoulder. ‘Not that, you evil boy! He’s taught me about things like poetry, music, and he’s taught me to play chess.’

      ‘Chess?’ asked Owyn, casting a glance at James.

      ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘He’s the finest chess player in Kenting Rush, probably in the entire area. He travels to Malac’s Cross regularly to play against the best in the Kingdom at the Queen’s Row Tavern and has played against nobles in Krondor and Great Kesh!’ Her description indicated some pride in the claims.

      ‘Well,’ said James. ‘Perhaps we can meet him some time.’

      ‘Come to supper on Sixthday and you can,’ she said. ‘He’s coming to see me by the end of the week!’

      With a laugh and a half-twirl that set her skirt swirling around her knees, she turned and half-skipped, half-walked to the door. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at Owyn and left.

      Gorath said, ‘The women of your people are … interesting.’

      James laughed. ‘She’s young. She’s working a little too hard at being vivacious.’ He shook his head in appreciation. ‘But give her a couple of years and she won’t have to work. She’s quite the charmer.’

      Owyn sighed as he leaned back in his chair. ‘She’s the only member of my family I ever really cared for around here.’

      Peter the Grey arrived with their food and as he set the table, Owyn said, ‘I never knew my cousin Neville – he died when I was young – and I had only seen him once before that.’

      Peter interrupted, ‘Baron Corvallis’s Neville? You said you were in to see him, young sir, but nothing about being his nephew.’

      ‘Sorry,’ said Owyn. ‘I wasn’t trying to hide the fact.’

      ‘You’re young Owyn,’ he said. ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’

      Owyn said, ‘Sorry, but I don’t.’

      ‘I was one of the cooks up in the keep, before that tragic day when young Neville died. You were only six or seven back then, and I only saw you once or twice when you visited. I bought this inn not long after, and you never stopped in before today. The old Baron, well, it changed him. He was a different man after that, but it killed his wife.’

      ‘I don’t remember much about it,’ admitted Owyn.

      Peter needed little prompting to gossip and said, ‘Well, the story goes that there was some difficulty between the Baron and the master builder he hired to work on the lower caves and tunnels as he expanded his wine cellar. The odd thing was he was also named du Sandau, like Navon.’

      James and Owyn exchanged glances.

      Peter went on. ‘Well, this Sandau was the finest stonemason in the region, but he was also a drunk and a womanizer; rumour is he had his way with many of the ladies of the court down in Rillanon before coming north.

      ‘He worked on several portions of the old run, under the keep, and usually the Baron was happy with the work. But this wine cellar, for some reason, had problems. They argued and the Baron was always in a foul temper.

      ‘Then came that black day.’

      ‘The day Neville died?’ asked Owyn.

      ‘Yes, it was the same accident that killed Sandau. The ceiling collapsed. No one knew why. All the men in the area struggled for days to remove the rubble, but it was to no avail; Neville and the workers in the room died.’

      ‘What was the boy doing in the room?’ asked Gorath.

      ‘No one knows. He liked to watch the masons, and his father didn’t object.’ Peter shrugged. ‘But the Baron’s never been quite the same since then. And the loss of the boy killed the Baroness, I will avow. She mourned for months, then got sick, and even the healing priests from the temples couldn’t keep her alive. She died a little more than a year after. Before the boy died, she was a woman of unusual steel. Ugyne’s like her; it’s what kept the girl sane, I think, losing a brother and mother within a year.’ Peter shook his head in sympathy as he recalled the girl’s pain. ‘She’s managed to turn into quite a special person, by my lights.’

      James nodded as Owyn said, ‘She is, no argument.’

      Peter left and James said, ‘This family of yours has had its share of tragedy.’

      Owyn said, ‘I know. But Ugyne seems to have found some happiness.’

      ‘Even if it’s only tormenting her father,’ said James, and even Gorath laughed at that.

      ‘Well, then,’ asked Owyn, ‘what are we to do?’

      ‘I think we have dinner with your uncle on Sixthday and I think we see if someone here wants to play chess.’

      Owyn nodded and sat back, content to rest a few days before the next conflict.

       • TEN •

       Nighthawks

      WATER THUNDERED DOWN THE MOUNTAINSIDE.

      James, Gorath and Owyn sat on their horses near the base of the falls. With a few days to fill in between their discussion with Ugyne and their coming supper with her father on Sixthday, James had decided to scout around. He had made sure the talkative Peter the Grey knew they were heading down the road on business, but as soon as they had cleared the precinct of Cavell Village, they had turned off the road to investigate Cavell Run.

      The spray struck James as the wind shifted. ‘You used to play here?’ he asked Owyn.

      ‘No, not really.’ He pointed up the side of the mountain. ‘We used to play up there, in a pool, near the spot the bolt-hole exits the hillside.’

      Gorath said, ‘My people’s children are not allowed to play unsupervised.’ With a note of contempt, he added, ‘But then you humans breed like fieldmice; if a child dies, you just have another.’

      James threw him a black look. ‘It’s not quite that simple.’

      Gorath asked, ‘So why are we here?’

      James asked, ‘If you wanted to use the old run as a base of operations, would you want the Baron and his family up there?’

      Owyn’s eyes widened. ‘You think the Nighthawks started the fire?’

      James shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But it’s pretty convenient, and by harassing him, they keep the Baron from starting his rebuilding.’

      They rode along the banks of the river toward the cliffs, and Gorath said, ‘I have fought these Nighthawks at your side, and you have mentioned them before, but I still do not understand their part in all this.’

      James said, ‘It isn’t difficult; they’re a brotherhood of assassins who work for whoever pays their way. Mercenaries. I faced one on the roofs of Krondor when I was a boy and have faced them many times since then.

      ‘They were pawns of Murmandamus for a while and served with his Black Slayers.’

      Gorath almost spat. ‘The Black Slayers were an obscenity! Men of no honour who gave over life and spirit to Murmandamus for promises of eternal power and glory! It is said by our lore keepers that those who did so will never join the Mothers and Fathers in the Life After.’

      James turned his horse to follow around a small knoll, and said, ‘I must admit, I know