Prince of the Blood. Raymond E. Feist

as a reward for service done the crown, a bit of black murder which few besides James knew about, Bram, and his wife Lorri, had been set up as very wealthy farmers. By the time James reacquainted himself with them, they had established lucrative trading concerns down into Great Kesh, and finally, after years of work, James had positioned an agent in the Imperial palace.

      James said, ‘I have someone as highly placed in the palace staff as possible without trying to recruit a trueblood.’ Both Arutha and Gardan knew that trying to recruit any trueblood Keshian into service for a foreign power would likely prove impossible. ‘The difficulty is sifting through rumour and gossip looking for useful information.

      ‘Here’s what we know,’ James continued, knowing both men had read every report he had prepared. ‘There are factions within the trueblood community with differing loyalties to the various claimants to the throne. The Empress has a daughter who is widowed, and who would normally be next in line, but for reasons we don’t yet understand is not openly acknowledged. She has a younger brother who is very popular with the military leaders. The Empress also has a granddaughter, who is very young, but who – if married to the right leader – would create even more division among the factions.’

      ‘Civil war,’ said Gardan. ‘If the Empress doesn’t clean up the question of succession before she dies, Kesh could be shattered.’

      Arutha nodded. ‘The Confederation is always looking for an excuse to rebel, and nothing would suit them better than the Royal House of Kesh being torn apart.’

      James said, ‘I’m still waiting for copies of the last year’s communications between our ambassador and your brother, Highness.’

      Arutha nodded. One of his frustrations was that while he had a great deal of autonomy in dealing with the Western Realm, the Kingdom was still ruled from Rillanon, a city thousands of miles away. And while Kesh often sent envoys and ambassadors to the Western Realm as a concession to necessity, Arutha had no formal reciprocation. And for reasons not clear after years ruling Krondor, he still had trouble getting copies of the communications between the Isle’s ambassador in Kesh and the King. ‘You’ll have to wait longer, I’m afraid. By the time you return from Kesh, I expect you’ll be more informed than Lord Dougrey.’ The Kingdom’s ambassador to Kesh was a minor Earl with a talent for entertaining and a distinct lack of other gifts. ‘For he has been recalled by the King, so when you get there, you’ll have to rely on your agent in the palace, and your own wits.’

      James sighed. ‘Well, at least that rids us of the problem of how to keep the ambassador busy and out from under foot.’

      Arutha said, ‘We have two possibilities to consider. Either, someone wants to keep the Empire together, and what better way to avoid a civil war than by plunging the Empire into a major war with a neighbour?’

      James finished. ‘Or, someone wants to use a war with the Isles or the threat of a war to pull the Empire apart.’

      Gardan said, ‘And the list of those who would delight in seeing Kesh collapse is not short.’

      Arutha stood. ‘I’m sending you into another mess, Jimmy. But this one has consequences as dire as any before if mistakes are made. I would not bother to inform you of the obvious, save this time you’re labouring with a grave handicap.’

      James smiled. ‘Borric and Erland will be kept on a short leash.’

      ‘Don’t let them start a war, please?’ Then without another word, he departed, the Duke following after.

      James had come to understand Arutha’s moods as well as any outside his family. A mind as complex and deep as the Prince’s was like a chess master’s; Arutha was planning every conceivable outcome as many moves in advance as possible.

      James left the room and found Locklear and the twins waiting for him outside the door. ‘We leave early in the morning,’ James informed them.

      Borric said, ‘We’re not due to leave for another three days.’

      James said, ‘Officially. If your Keshian friend has compatriots about, I would prefer they not know our plans.’ He glanced at Locklear. ‘We’ll slip out of the palace before dawn, and gather at a tavern. Horses and supplies will be waiting for us. A small mounted troop, twenty guards, dressed as mercenaries. Couriers leave in an hour by fast horses. Arutha’s sending word to Shamata we’re going to need fresh mounts and stores enough for two hundred escorts.’

      Locklear said, ‘We’ll be arriving in Shamata at the same time as any message and two hundred—’

      James cut him off. ‘We’re not going to Shamata. We want any Keshian agents who might be paying attention to think we’ll travel in state to Shamata. But we’re not going to Shamata. We’re going to Stardock.’

       • Chapter Three • Stardock

      DUST SWIRLED.

      Twenty-four riders moved at a steady pace along the edge of the Great Star Lake. A week and a half of hard riding had taken them southward from Krondor, to Landreth on the north coast of the Sea of Dreams. Then, from where it entered the sea, the Star River led them further southward, the rugged mountains of the Grey Range always in sight as they entered the lush Vale of Dreams. Years of border wars between the Kingdom and the Empire had seen this rich farming land changing hands many times. Those who lived in this part of the world spoke the languages of the Southern Kingdom and the Northern Empire with equal fluency. And the sight of twenty-four armed mercenaries evoked no notice. Many armed bands of men rode the vale.

      At the midpoint of the river, near a small waterfall, they forded the currents, making for the south shore. Upon reaching the headwaters of the Star River, the Great Star Lake, they turned to track the shoreline southward, seeking that point closest to the island dominating the centre of the lake, Stardock. There they would find the ferry that provided passage from the shore to the island.

      Along the banks of the shore they passed tiny fishing and farming villages, often no more than an extended family, little groups of huts and cottages, but all looking prosperous and well tended. The community of magicians upon Stardock had grown over the years, and now other communities had developed to meet the demands for food of those upon the island.

      Borric urged his horse forward, as they rounded a small promontory of land, bringing them their first clear view of the large building upon the island. It nearly shone in the orange light of the sunset, while the advancing night behind turned the distant sky violet and grey. ‘Gods and demons, Uncle Jimmy, look at the size of that place!’

      James nodded. ‘I had heard they were building a massive centre for learning, but the tales never did it justice.’

      Locklear said, ‘Duke Gardan visited here many years ago. He told me they had laid a huge foundation for the building … but this is larger than anything I’ve seen.’

      Glancing at the falling light, James said, ‘If we hurry, we’ll make the island within the next two hours. I’d rather a warm meal and clean bed than another night on the trail.’ Setting heels to his horse’s sides, he moved on.

      Under a canopy of brilliant stars on one of the rare nights when all three moons had yet to rise, they passed through a small gap between hillocks and entered a prosperous-looking town. Torches and lanterns blazed at every storefront – an extravagance in all but the wealthiest of towns and cities – and children ran after them, shouting and laughing in the general confusion. Beggars and prostitutes asked favours or offered them respectively, and ramshackle taverns stood open to provide the weary traveller with a cool drink, hot meal, and warm company.

      Locklear shouted over the noise, ‘Quite a prosperous little metropolis growing here.’

      James glanced about at the dirt and squalor. ‘Quite. The blessings of civilization,’ he observed.

      Borric said, ‘Perhaps we should investigate one of these small pubs—’