Prince of the Blood. Raymond E. Feist

you.’ Like a baby, he let himself be gathered to her breast, and as her hands caressed his head and shoulders, her voice spoke into his mind. You will never be alone again.

      Borric and Erland sat beside each other, enjoying the array of foods for the morning meal. Besides the usual Kingdom fare, a large number of Keshian delicacies also were provided. Pug’s family as well as Kulgan and Meecham dined with the guests. Two places were empty, next to Katala and Locklear.

      Borric chewed a mouthful of fine cheese and wine, while Erland said, ‘Cousin Pug, how many people live here now?’

      Pug picked lightly at his plate, not eating much. He smiled at his wife and said, ‘Katala attends the daily business of governing this community.’

      Katala said, ‘We number nearly a thousand families, both here and on the shore. Here, upon the island—’ Her words fell away. All at the table turned to see the cause of Katala’s truncated speech.

      The door at the end of the hall had opened and James entered, escorting a young woman dressed in a simple lavender dress cinched about the waist with a rainbow-coloured belt.

      Borric, Erland, and Locklear rose, as the girl hurried to Pug and kissed him upon the cheek. Then she looked into Katala’s eyes for a long moment, as if speaking, though no words were exchanged. The older woman’s eyes began to brim with tears as a smile spread across her face.

      Pug turned to look at James, expectantly.

      Locklear said, ‘James?’

      James cleared his throat, and in a self-conscious tone of voice, like a schoolboy reciting before his master, said, ‘Lord Pug, I, I have the honour of asking permission … to ask for the hand of your daughter in marriage.’

      Borric and Erland’s eyes widened in disbelief, then both looked at Locklear. James’s life-long companion since coming to the palace sat down heavily with a stunned expression equal to the twins’ own. Shaking his head, all he could say was, ‘Sink me!’

       • Chapter Four • Concerns

      BORRIC SHOOK HIS HEAD.

      Erland asked, ‘What’s bothering you?’

      Borric said, ‘What?’

      ‘You’ve been shaking your head “no” as you’ve been walking for the last couple of minutes. You’re arguing with yourself again.’

      Borric made a sound between a sigh and a grunt. ‘I’m worried about Uncle Jimmy.’

      Erland turned slightly as he picked up the pace so he could examine his brother’s face while they walked. The evening sky was turning inky as the middle moon hadn’t risen yet. But the balmy evening promised romance for those inclined and able to find willing partners. It was upon such a search the twins were now embarking. As they headed to where the ferry barge was tied, Erland said. ‘It’s not usual for you to concern yourself with others, let alone someone as capable as Uncle Jimmy.’

      ‘That’s why I’m worried,’ said Borric, halting to emphasize the point. He poked his finger on Erland’s chest. ‘“There’s nothing dumber in the world than a man with an erection,” he used to tell us, right?’

      Erland laughed and nodded. ‘Except Uncle Locky. It just makes him that much more cunning.’

      ‘Only when it comes to finding a warm place to put his great sword. Otherwise he’s just as stupid as the rest of us.’

      ‘The rest of us except Uncle Jimmy.’

      ‘Right,’ agreed Borric. ‘My point exactly. He’s had his share, we both know that. But he’s always kept them at a distance and never made stupid promises. It’s like … he never found something he was looking for. Now he meets this woman and …’ He paused, at a loss for words.

      ‘Like magic.’

      ‘Exactly!’ said Borric. ‘And what better place to find magic than an island of magicians?’

      Erland put a restraining hand on Borric as his brother started to walk again. ‘You think this is some sort of spell? An enchantment?’

      ‘Ah, a very special enchantment,’ said a gravelly voice from the dark.

      Both brothers turned to see a stout figure sitting upon a tree stump not ten feet away. Because the man had been motionless, he had remained unseen in the gloom until he spoke. Coming closer, the young Princes saw the speaker was the old magician, Kulgan.

      ‘What do you mean?’ asked Borric, as if his suspicions had been confirmed.

      Kulgan laughed. He stuck out his hand for a moment and then waved it impatiently. ‘Well just don’t stand there. Give an old man some help. My knees are older than creation!’

      Erland assisted the old magician as Kulgan pulled himself upright, one hand in Erland’s, the other on a large wooden staff. The magician continued, ‘I’ll walk with you to the ferry landing. I assume you’re going across to find some trouble. Boys your age always are interested in trouble.’

      ‘The enchantment?’ said Borric impatiently.

      The old man laughed. ‘You know, when your grandfather Borric was a little older than you, he was just as unwilling to wait. When he wanted an answer, he wanted it right now, by damn. It took a lot of years for him to get over that. Your father has the same flaw, but he hides it better. Arutha always was among the best I’ve known for recognizing limits.’

      Erland said, ‘He has that knack, except when it comes to us.’

      Kulgan fixed both brothers with a baleful gaze. ‘Limits? What do you spoiled children know of limits? Oh, maybe you’ve had to use your swords now and again, but limits?’ He halted for a moment, and leaned upon the staff. Tapping his head with one finger, he said, ‘This. Your brain. When you bring all your faculties to bear on a problem, try every conceivable solution in your mind, and still have no solution, then you’ll understand what limits I’m talking about.’

      ‘Father always said you were one of his most demanding teachers,’ said Erland with a grin.

      ‘Ha!’ snorted Kulgan. ‘Now Father Tully, there was an exacting taskmaster.’ His eyes looked off in the distance, reflecting for a moment, then he continued, ‘It’s a pity you never knew him. You were babies when he died. Tragic loss. One of the finest minds I’ve ever known … even if he was a priest,’ he added, unable to resist the jab at his old debating partner, and feeling sadness at the lack of a rejoinder.

      Borric said, ‘Were you joking about the enchantment on Jimmy?’

      Kulgan said, ‘You are very young, my Prince. You don’t know half of everything yet. Or a half of a half. Or even half of that,’ he added with a more than playful whack with his staff to Borric’s leg for emphasis.

      ‘Ow,’ Borric said, reflexively dancing back.

      As Erland began to laugh, Kulgan gave him a bark on the shins as well, saying, ‘Just to keep things even.’

      As both brothers made a show of being in pain, Kulgan said, ‘Now pay attention. I’m old and I don’t have the time to waste repeating myself.’

      When the twins ceased their little dances of distress, Kulgan said, ‘The sort of enchantment I am speaking of is nothing you can teach. It’s not of the sort of magic men can employ at whim. It’s a magic the gods have given to only a few lucky men and women. It’s the magic of a love so real and profound that nothing can change you back once you’ve known it.’ His eyes again sought distant horizons as he said, ‘I’m so old I have to work to remember last night’s dreams. Yet there are times boyhood recollections come to me as if they were but moments ago.’ He looked at Borric, as if searching for something familiar in his young face. After a quiet moment, he said, ‘Your grandfather