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

way to Krondor.’

      Graves nodded and returned to overseeing the preparations for his departure.

       • THIRTEEN •

       Betrayal

      THE TROLLS LOOKED UP.

      James said, ‘Just keep moving slowly, like we know what we’re doing.’

      Patrus whispered, ‘Do we know what we’re doing?’

      ‘Don’t ask,’ Locklear replied.

      The trolls were raising weapons and spreading out to fight. James slowed his horse and said, ‘Just keep moving, but be ready.’

      The trolls were roughly human in appearance, with almost no necks. Their heads thrust forward from their shoulders, so they always looked as if they were shrugging. James knew their somewhat comical appearance was as far from the truth as it could be. The lowland trolls were little more than beasts, without language or the ability to use tools and weapons. Their mountain cousins were intelligent, if stupid by human standards, and knew how to use weapons. Very well. Their language sounded like grunts and squawks to humans, but they had a social organization and knew how to fight.

      As the trolls approached, James held up his hand in greeting. ‘Where is Narab?’ he asked conversationally.

      The trolls halted their advance, and looked one to another. They had low foreheads and jutting lower jaws and large teeth, with two lower tusks that protruded up over their upper lips a short way. One turned his head as if listening and said, ‘No Narab here. Who you?’

      ‘We’re mercenaries; but we’ve been sent to find Narab and find out why you trolls haven’t been paid.’

      At the mention of payment, the trolls began an excited conversation. After a few minutes, the first troll to speak – James assumed he was the leader – said, ‘We no fight if we not paid.’

      ‘That’s the problem,’ said James. He leaned over the neck of his horse and spoke conversationally. ‘Look, I understand. If I were you and weren’t getting paid I wouldn’t fight either. I might even just take my lads and go home, the way this Delekhan’s been treating you.’

      ‘You pay?’ asked the troll, holding his war club in a suddenly menacing fashion.

      James quickly sat back in his saddle, ready to spin his horse away if he saw that weapon moving with any but the most casual purpose. ‘I suppose,’ said James. He turned to Locklear and said, ‘How much gold do you have?’

      ‘My travel allowance!’ hissed Locklear. ‘A bit more than a hundred good sovereigns.’

      James smiled. ‘Give it to them.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Just do it!’ insisted the senior squire.

      Locklear took off his belt pouch and tossed it to the troll, who caught it with surprising dexterity. ‘What this?’

      ‘A hundred golden sovereigns,’ said James.

      ‘Gold is good,’ said the troll. ‘We work for you now.’

      James grinned. ‘Very good; then stay here until we get back. And if anyone is following us, stop them.’

      The troll nodded and waved his companions aside so that James could pass. As they moved away from the trolls Locklear said, ‘Why don’t we just buy them all off and send them home?’

      James said, ‘Truth to tell, it would be cheaper in the long run. But the dark elves are unlikely to set so low a price.’

      Patrus said, ‘Mountain trolls are only one thing more than stupid, boys.’

      ‘What?’ asked Locklear.

      ‘They’re greedy. You think that bunch is going to let us just ride past and not ask for more?’

      ‘No,’ said James, ‘which is why I have this other purse here, in case they do.’

      Locklear said, ‘So that’s why you needed my gold? So you could use your own on the way back.’

      ‘No,’ said James. ‘If we can get back without paying, we will. I had you use your gold, because I didn’t want to give them my gold.’

      Locklear snorted and Patrus laughed. They moved along the road and after a while saw a company of riders moving at a leisurely pace along the horizon. ‘We must be getting close,’ said James.

      ‘Yes, Raglam’s just on the other side of that rise,’ said Patrus.

      They plodded along, attempting to look unconcerned and relaxed as they rode into the heart of enemy territory. James had managed many times in his young life to go places he wasn’t supposed to be simply on the strength of looking like he knew where he was going and had a reason for being there, and he hoped that proved as true with dark elves as it had with humans.

      They rounded a corner as they topped the rise, and James halted. ‘Gods of mercy!’ he exclaimed.

      Engineers were hard at work building siege towers for the walls of Northwarden. ‘Well,’ said Locklear, ‘I don’t think we have to see much more to convince the Baron they are coming this way, do we?’

      Patrus walked forward. ‘Let’s see what else they’re up to.’

      They passed a bored-looking band of humans, sitting alongside a huge catapult. A moredhel warrior walked toward them. ‘Where are you going?’ he demanded.

      James assumed a look of indifference. ‘Where’s Shupik?’

      The moredhel said, ‘Who?’

      ‘Shupik. Our captain. We’re supposed to report to him, but we can’t find his camp.’

      ‘I have never heard of this Shupik,’ said the moredhel.

      Before James said anything, Patrus said, ‘It’s not our fault you’re ignorant, you pointy-eared lily-eater! Get out of our way so we can find our captain, or you can explain to your chieftain why he didn’t get the information we were sent to fetch back here!’

      Patrus set off at a brisk walk and James and Locklear moved after him. James gave the moredhel a shrug as he walked past. As they rode on, Locklear muttered, ‘And I thought you were brazen.’

      James could barely suppress a laugh. They passed half a dozen towers under construction and James said, ‘Someone did their fieldwork. Those will be hard to get up the road to the keep, but if they can move them quickly enough and they reach the wall, they’ll fit snug up there and get warriors on the wall in quick order.’

      Locklear nodded. ‘Nothing like those big lumbering monstrosities at Armengar.’

      James nodded. He remembered the huge war engines being pulled across the plains of Sar-Isbandia to the walls of Armengar. Only the brilliance of Guy du Bas-Tyra had kept those machines from reaching the walls time after time. James doubted Baron Gabot would prove as able a defensive general.

      As they rode past, Locklear said, ‘Some shallow trenches on the road a half mile or so before the walls might cause them some problems.’

      James grinned. ‘Serious problems, especially if we started throwing things down onto the road.’

      ‘Like boulders?’ asked Patrus, who then began to laugh, a sound that could only be called ‘evil’.

      Locklear was openly cheerful as he said, ‘Could be quite a mess.’

      As they moved down the road, Locklear said, ‘Say, Patrus, how did you end up here in the middle of this?’

      The old magician shrugged. ‘Old