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

lad, the truth is it’s a little bit of fire, not much more than a scorch mark if it hits you, but it’s just hot enough to make you duck if you see the fireball coming at you. I made the thing years ago to impress some pesky townspeople down south who were trying to run me off. A few little fireballs tossed their way and they left me alone.’

      James laughed. ‘Owyn didn’t tell me you were such a character.’

      ‘Owyn Belefote? Where do you know that rascal from?’ asked Patrus.

      ‘It’s a long story. I’ll tell you while we walk. If you’re up to it, I want to check out the place those trolls jumped you. Otherwise you can continue back to Northwarden. It should be safe between here and there.’

      ‘I think I’ll stick close to you, lads. Who are you?’

      ‘I’m Squire James of Krondor, and this is Squire Locklear. We’re members of the Prince’s court.’ They started walking their horses rather than ride while the old man walked.

      ‘Prince Arutha’s lads? You wouldn’t happen to know Pug of Stardock, would you?’

      ‘We’ve had the pleasure,’ said Locklear.

      ‘I’d like to meet him, some time. I’ve heard a thing or two about his academy. Told Owyn he ought to get himself down there; I’d taught him everything he could learn.’

      James said, ‘Locklear here met Owyn on his way back from Stardock; he was visiting his aunt in Yabon. I think Stardock didn’t work out too well for him.’

      ‘Bah!’ said the old magician, picking his way along the road with his staff. ‘The boy has talent, a fair amount from what I can tell, but I think he’s one of those Greater Paths, because a lot of what I tried to teach him just didn’t work. But the things that did, why, he was fierce with it, he was.’ The old country magician looked up the pass and said, ‘Company’s coming.’

      Locklear drew his sword and James unlimbered his crossbow again. But rather than trolls or dark elves, two dusty members of Baron Gabot’s company came into view. One was obviously wounded and the other looked very tired.

      ‘Patrus!’ said the wounded soldier. ‘We thought they’d got you.’

      ‘Not even close,’ said the old man with a grin. ‘These lads lent a hand.’

      ‘I’m Squire James. What did you see?’

      The senior-most soldier reported, indicating that a squad of twenty Dark Brothers and an equal number of trolls had ambushed their patrol, and only a falling-out between the two factions had kept them from killing all of Gabot’s men.

      ‘That’s interesting,’ said Locklear.

      ‘Very,’ agreed James. ‘If they’re fighting, it’s over pay.’

      Patrus nodded. ‘Troll mercenaries don’t wait to get paid. They go back home or take it out of your hide.’

      ‘I don’t know what caused the row,’ said the wounded soldier, ‘but we were running and one of the Brotherhood of the Dark Path yelled something at a troll, and instead of chasing us, the troll turned and tried to slice up the Brother. It was a fair mêlée by the time we got away.’

      The other soldier nodded. ‘They had their blood up, the trolls did, and they seemed just as satisfied killing Dark Brothers as they did us.’

      ‘Great,’ said James. ‘Confusion to the enemy. Now, you boys all right to get back to the Baron alone?’

      ‘If there’s no one waiting between here and there to jump us, we’ll be okay,’ said the wounded soldier.

      ‘Good. Go and report to the Baron and when you’re done telling him what you’ve seen, tell him we’re going to go snoop around and see what else we can find.’

      ‘Very well, squire,’ said the unwounded man, saluting.

      The soldiers continued on and Locklear said, ‘What do you have in mind?’

      ‘If those soldiers got jumped by trolls, there’s a camp nearby.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Patrus. ‘The town of Raglam’s ahead. It’s sort of an open town. Not quite Kingdom, but enough humans living there that it’s not particularly Northlands, either. Lots of weapons runners, slavers and other no-accounts visit there all the time.’

      ‘Sounds like my kind of place,’ said James with a grin.

      ‘You going to get us killed?’

      James’s grin widened. ‘Never, Locklear, my old friend; you’re going to get killed some day over a woman, not because of anything I’m planning.’

      Locklear returned the grin. ‘Well, if she’s beautiful enough.’

      They laughed, and Patrus said, ‘You boys got something you’d like to tell an old conjurer like me about?’

      ‘I thought we might take a ride into Raglam and have a look around.’

      Patrus shook his head. ‘Crazy, that’s what you two are. Sounds like fun.’

      The old magician started to march up the draw, and James and Locklear exchanged glances, then laughter.

      

      The patrol leader signalled for his men to halt and said to Gorath and Owyn, ‘Malac’s Cross.’

      They were arrayed before The Queen’s Row Tavern, which was obviously crowded, and Owyn said, ‘Why don’t we try the abbey?’

      Gorath nodded. They bid their escort goodbye and rode on, and Gorath said, ‘I would have thought you’d prefer an ale and the company of others than the monks of Ishap.’

      ‘I would, had I the means to pay for that ale,’ said Owyn. ‘Unless you’ve secreted away some booty you failed to mention to me, I’m without a copper to my name, thanks to Delekhan’s guards. In all the preparation for heading off to Northwarden, the Prince was so busy … I forgot to ask for funds.’

      Gorath said, ‘So we beg?’

      ‘We ask for hospitality. I suspect Abbot Graves is a more likely source for such than an overworked innkeeper.’

      Gorath said, ‘Perhaps you’re right.’

      ‘Besides, we might even convince the Abbot to lend us the price of a meal or two between here and Krondor.’

      ‘We should have thought of that before leaving Prince Arutha.’

      ‘I didn’t think of it,’ said Owyn. ‘You didn’t think of it. We didn’t think of it. So, there’s no “should”, is there?’

      Gorath grumbled that this was so.

      They reached the abbey and saw that the gate was closed. ‘Hello, the abbey!’ called Owyn.

      ‘Who is it?’ came a voice from within.

      ‘Owyn Belefote. We came to see the Abbot.’

      ‘Wait,’ was the terse reply. And they waited.

      Nearly a quarter of an hour passed before the gate opened, and a very worried-looking monk admitted them. As soon as they had passed through the gate, it slammed behind them. Dismounting, Owyn asked, ‘What is this?’

      A monk took their horses and said, ‘The Abbot waits for you within.’

      They went inside and found Abbot Graves overseeing a pair of monks who appeared to be packing things up.

      ‘Are you leaving?’ asked Gorath.

      Looking at the two, Graves said, ‘Where is James?’

      ‘Last we saw him he was on his way to Northwarden,’ replied Owyn. ‘Why?’

      ‘Damn!’ swore the Abbot. ‘I was hoping he could do me a service.’