Magician. Raymond E. Feist

demonstrate, he struck the bowl hard against the table. Instead of shattering, as a clay bowl would have, it made a dull sound. ‘Now, even more perplexing are these weapons and armor.’ He pointed to the blue breastplate, helmet, sword, and dagger. ‘They appear to be fashioned in a similar manner.’ He lifted the dagger and let it drop. It made the same dull sound as the bowl. ‘For all its lightness, it is nearly as strong as our best steel.’

      Borric nodded. ‘Tully, you’ve been around longer than any of us. Have you heard of any ship constructed like that?’

      ‘No.’ Tully absently stroked his beardless chin. ‘Not from the Bitter Sea, the Kingdom Sea, or even from Great Kesh have I heard of such a ship. I might send word to the Temple of Ishap in Krondor. They have records that go further back than any others. Perhaps they have some knowledge of these people.’

      The Duke nodded. ‘Please do. Also we must send word to the elves and dwarves. They have abided here longer than we by ages, and we would do well to seek their wisdom.’

      Tully indicated agreement. ‘Queen Aglaranna might have knowledge of these people if they are travelers from across the Endless Sea. Perhaps they have visited these shores before.’

      ‘Preposterous,’ snorted Horsemaster Algon. ‘There are no nations across the Endless Sea. Otherwise it wouldn’t be endless.’

      Kulgan took on an indulgent expression. ‘There are theories that other lands exist across the Endless Sea. It is only that we have no ships capable of making such a long journey.’

      ‘Theories,’ was all Algon said.

      ‘Whoever these strangers are,’ said Arutha, ‘we had best make sure we can find out as much as possible about them.’

      Algon and Lyam gave him a questioning look, while Kulgan and Tully looked on without expression. Borric and Fannon nodded as Arutha continued. ‘From the boys’ description, the ship was obviously a warship. The heavy prow with bowsprit is designed for ramming, and the high foredeck is a perfect place for bowmen, as the low middle deck is suitable for boarding other vessels when they have been grappled. I would imagine the rear deck was also high. If more of the hull had survived, I would guess we would have found rowers’ benches as well.’

      ‘A war galley?’ asked Algon.

      Fannon looked impatient. ‘Of course, you simpleton.’ There was a friendly rivalry between the two masters, which at times degenerated to some unfriendly bickering. ‘Take a look at our guest’s weapon.’ He indicated the broadsword. ‘How would you like to ride at a determined man wheeling that toy? He’d cut your horse right out from under you. That armor is light, and efficiently constructed for all its gaudy coloring. I would guess that he was infantry. As powerfully built as he is, he probably could run half a day and still fight.’ He stroked his mustache absently. ‘These people have some warriors among them.’

      Algon nodded slowly. Arutha sat back in his chair, making a tent of his hands, fingertips flexing. ‘What I can’t understand,’ said the Duke’s younger son, ‘is why he tried to run. We had no weapons drawn and were not charging. There was no reason for him to run.’

      Borric looked at the old priest. ‘Will we ever know?’

      Tully looked concerned, his brow furrowed. ‘He had a long piece of wood embedded in his right side, under the breastplate, as well as a bad blow to the head. That helmet saved his skull. He has a high fever and has lost a great deal of blood. He may not survive. I may have to resort to a mind contact, if he regains enough consciousness to establish it.’ Pug knew of the mind contact; Tully had explained it to him before. It was a method only a few clerics could employ, and it was extremely dangerous for both the subject and the caster. The old priest must feel a strong need to gain information from the injured man to risk it.

      Borric turned his attention to Kulgan. ‘What of the scroll the boys found?’

      Kulgan waved a hand absently. ‘I have given a preliminary, and brief, inspection. It has magical properties without a doubt. That is why Pug felt some compulsion to inspect the cabin and that chest, I think. Anyone as sensitive to magic as he is would feel it.’ He looked directly at the Duke. ‘I am, however, unwilling to break the seal until I have made a more involved study of it, to better determine its purpose. Breaking enchanted seals can be dangerous if not handled properly. If the seal was tampered with, the scroll might destroy itself, or worse, those trying to break it. It wouldn’t be the first such trap I’ve seen for a scroll of great power.’

      The Duke drummed his fingers on the table for a moment. ‘All right. We will adjourn this meeting. As soon as something new has been learned, either from the scroll or from the wounded man, we will reconvene.’ He turned to Tully. ‘See how the man is, and if he should wake, use your arts to glean whatever you can.’ He stood, and the others rose also. ‘Lyam, send word to the Elf Queen and the dwarves at Stone Mountain and the Grey Towers of what has happened. Ask for their counsel.’

      Pug opened the door. The Duke went through and the others followed. Pug and Tomas were the last to leave, and as they walked down the hall, Tomas leaned over toward Pug.

      ‘We really started something.’

      Pug shook his head. ‘We were simply the first to find the man. If not us, then someone else.’

      Tomas looked relieved to be out of the chamber and the Duke’s scrutiny. ‘If this turns out badly, I hope they remember that.’

      Kulgan went up the stairs to his tower room as Tully moved off toward his own quarters, where the wounded man was being tended by Tully’s acolytes. The Duke and his sons turned through a door to their private quarters, leaving the boys alone in the hallway.

      Pug and Tomas cut through a storage room, and into the kitchen. Megar stood supervising the kitchen workers, several of whom waved greetings to the boys. When he saw his son and fosterling, he smiled and said, ‘Well, what have you two gotten yourselves into, now?’ Megar was a loose-jointed man, with sandy hair and an open countenance. He resembled Tomas, as a rough sketch resembled a finished drawing. He was a fair-looking man of middle years, but lacked the fine features that set Tomas apart.

      Grinning, Megar said, ‘Everyone is hushed up about that man in Tully’s quarters, and messengers are dashing from here to there, one place to another. I haven’t seen such a to-do since the Prince of Krondor visited seven years ago!’

      Tomas grabbed an apple from a platter and jumped up to sit on a table. Between bites he recounted to his father what had taken place.

      Pug leaned on the counter while listening. Tomas told the story with a minimum of embellishment. When he was done, Megar shook his head. ‘Well, well. Aliens, is it? I hope they’re not marauding pirates. We have had peaceful enough times lately. Ten years since the time the Brotherhood of the Dark Path’ – he gestured spitting – ‘curse their murderous souls, stirred up that trouble with the goblins. Can’t say as I’d welcome that sort of mess again, sending all those stores to the outlying villages. Having to cook based on what will spoil first and what will last longest. I couldn’t make a decent meal for a month.’

      Pug smiled. Megar had the ability to take even the most difficult possibilities and break them down to basics: how much inconvenience they were likely to cause the scullery staff.

      Tomas jumped down from the counter. ‘I had best return to the soldiers’ commons and wait for Master Fannon. I’ll see you soon.’ He ran from the kitchen.

      Megar said, ‘Is it serious, Pug?’

      Pug shook his head. ‘I really can’t say. I don’t know. I know that Tully and Kulgan are worried, and the Duke thinks enough of the problem to want to talk to the elves and dwarves. It could be.’

      Megar looked out the door that Tomas had used. ‘It would be a bad time for war and killing.’ Pug could see the poorly hidden worry in Megar’s face and could think of nothing to say to a father of a son who had just become a soldier.

      Pug pushed himself away from the counter.