Magician’s End. Raymond E. Feist

does not confirm him as king, that makes him a usurper, nothing more. Edward would control the mainland and Oliver would sit here until he rots or runs out of food. The few farms on the island and all the fishermen here will not sustain that host for long. And he’ll run out of gold: he has an army only as long as he can pay it.

      ‘And if Edward will not come to Oliver,’ he continued, ‘Oliver must go to Edward, and that will be on the Fields of Albalyn. Edward has soldiers; he needs officers. You and your brothers need to be on your way westward as soon as we put some things here in order.’

      ‘Going to help Edward?’ asked Hal. ‘And am I safe in assuming people may not wish me to do so?’

      ‘A fair assumption,’ said Jim. ‘I’ll have men travel with you, and I’d like you to take Ty Hawkins with you, too. He’s a smart lad and may prove handy. I’ve spoken to Ty and Tal, and they’re willing.’

      ‘Willing?’

      ‘To prevent war if possible, to end it as quickly as possible, if not.’

      Hal crossed his arms and leaned back against the stone balustrade. ‘Ty’s a good friend and the best swordsman I’ve ever seen. He’s no burden.’

      ‘Good. His patent of Kingdom nobility is a forgery.’

      Hal’s eyes widened slightly.

      ‘But it’s a very good one, created by the best forger my predecessor could buy.’

      ‘Predecessor?’

      Jim pointed off in the direction his grandfather had taken.

      ‘The duke?’

      ‘Few know the truth about my family, and how our connections wend their way past rank, class, even nationality,’ said Jim. ‘It seems to be an every-other-generation sort of thing, really. The first Lord James …’ Jim got a far-off look in his eyes and he turned to stare out at the gathering fleet. ‘Did you know he was a thief, just a boy, yet an accomplished rogue by any measure, who was raised by Prince Arutha to become first his squire, but eventually became Duke of Krondor and was then sent off with the prince’s son, King Borric, to rule the nation as Duke of Rillanon?’

      ‘No,’ said Hal. ‘Most of the history I do know is from books in my father’s library.’ He laughed bitterly. ‘Ashes, now, I expect.’ He looked at Jim. ‘Every other generation?’

      ‘My great-grandfather, named for Prince Arutha, was by all reports an honourable man, resolute and fearless, but by nature much more of an administrator than any sort of blackguard. You really do need to be something of a scoundrel to do what we do, we Jamisons.’

      When Jim let out a deep sigh, Hal could feel the fatigue in the older man’s bones. ‘You could use a spot of rest.’

      ‘I could spend what remains of my life resting,’ said Jim. ‘But that may not come, should Oliver and his friends below take matters in hand. My great-grandfather had a brother a year younger than himself, by the name of Dashel Jamison. He rejected rank and office: some say because he was by nature a very mean-spirited bastard, but we in the family know he did it to honour a pledge to a woman he loved.’ Jim’s expression hovered halfway between fond remembrance and regret. A slight smile moved his lips for a brief instant, then he said, ‘Men do very foolish things for love, don’t they?’

      Hal thought of Stephané and felt his heart turn to lead. ‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘we do.’

      ‘Dash, as my great uncle was known, became a businessman of some stature and wealth in Krondor, but what was known by few was that he was also the leader of a large gang of thieves known as the Mockers. He bore the title of the Upright Man.’

      Hal said, ‘Those names I know. The legend of the Upright Man and the Mockers reaches out to the Far Coast.’

      ‘His son Dasher, whose name I bear, was another of those generations who was skipped when it came to bloody work. He almost lost control of the Mockers. And as he had no sons, as his nephew I had to step in and act on behalf of the family.’

      ‘So, you’re the Upright Man of Krondor?’

      ‘Until recently. I’ve placed another in that position to assume my responsibilities. What turned out to be the same in my great-great-grandfather, the first Lord James’s, time is true today: a gang of thieves can be very handy in the world of spying.’

      ‘Why are you telling me all this?’ asked Hal.

      Jim shrugged. ‘I’m not certain I know.’ He continued to gaze out over the sea. ‘I’ve spent half my life here and half in Krondor and half all over the world.’

      Hal chuckled. ‘That’s three halves.’

      Jim didn’t smile. ‘I know. That’s how it feels.’ He was silent for a moment, then said, ‘Why am I telling you anything? You’re important, Hal. Maybe not in ways that are clear, but there are things in motion, undertakings by men of ambition and power, and the best I can pray for is we somehow get Edward on the throne. If that happens, from that moment forward his life will be at risk every minute of every day.’

      ‘Treason?’

      Jim nodded. ‘Slip something into Edward’s wine, or have him fall from his horse, before a clear line of succession can be achieved, and Oliver is back out there with his army within a week, and Chadwick and Montgomery are back inside the palace bargaining with anyone who will promise a vote in the Congress of Lords.’

      ‘What has that to do with me?’

      ‘As you’ve observed more than once, young Hal, you are a duke without a duchy. Oh, Edward will eventually wrest it back from Kesh, for they have no real use for the Far Coast, and you can go back and try to govern, though with a population of fractious refugees from the Keshian Confederates now herding, farming, and mining your duchy. But that may prove more of a challenge than herding cats. Send one of your brothers and as much of a garrison as you can scrape together, and go very light on taxes and in a generation or so you’ll have something resembling organization in the region. I’ll try to have Edward forgo Crown taxes for a while so you can feed your brother’s little army.’

      ‘Martin’s little army? Shouldn’t it be my little army?’

      ‘No, you need to stay close to Edward.’

      ‘Why? He’s got your grandfather and you, and there must be others loyal to the Crown, no matter who wears it.’

      ‘There are, but my grandfather may not be here much longer. It’s hard to know in my family; as often as not we conspire to get ourselves killed before we meet a quiet death in bed. And I …’ Jim closed his eyes for a moment. ‘I am used up. The burden of trying to live up to a family legend that grows with each passing generation, I guess. Truth to tell, I do not know how talented the original Lord James was. By any objective measure he was a genius, but was he the genius portrayed in the histories?

      ‘My burden, my flaw of character, is to match myself against him. As a child, when my father couldn’t hear, I’d call myself “Jimmyhand” because I could never remember the “the”.’ He leaned forward, both hands on the balustrade, and took a deep breath. ‘Oceans smell different, you know?’

      Hal nodded. ‘Far Coast is … damp: the wind comes from the west constantly and we get that salt-and-fish smell. Here …’

      Jim laughed. ‘A lot of flowers in these gardens.’

      Hal laughed with him. ‘But down in the city it’s still sweet.’

      ‘Which one is better?’

      Hal thought. ‘This one, but not here.’

      ‘Roldem?’

      Hal stayed silent.

      Jim put his hand on Hal’s shoulder. ‘There’s someone in Roldem I miss as well.’

      ‘Lady Franciezka?’

      Jim