The King’s Buccaneer. Raymond E. Feist

with the elves.’

      Suddenly Nicholas made the connection. ‘Your son is the Elf Queen’s consort!’

      Magya nodded. With resignation she said, ‘We don’t see him much. We’ve had one visit since the child was born, and we get a message from time to time.’

      ‘Child?’

      Our grandson,’ answered Megar. ‘Calis.’

      Magya brightened. ‘He’s a good boy. He visits once or twice a year. He’s more like his father than those elves he lives with,’ she said with conviction. ‘I often wish he’d come to live here at Crydee.’

      The conversation died, and Nicholas excused himself and left through the door to the courtyard. He recollected what his uncle Laurie had told him about the last days of the Riftwar and what bits Amos had told him. Tomas wasn’t human. At least, that was the impression Nicholas had been left with; he was something else, related to the elves, but different. Nicholas thought that if he had human parents, especially ones as warm and open as Megar and Magya, he must have been much like the other keep children. What could have changed him? wondered Nicholas.

      Nicholas wandered over to the Princess’s Garden, faintly hoping to find Abigail and Margaret there. Given the hour, they were probably in the hall, dining with Duke Martin, but Nicholas hoped anyway.

      Instead of the young girls, Nicholas was astonished to find Nakor and Anthony, lying flat on their stomachs, staring at something under a stone bench.

      ‘There, you see?’ said Nakor.

      ‘That one?’ asked Anthony.

      ‘Yes.’

      They dusted themselves off as they rose. Nakor said, ‘You must be sure it is the one with those tiny flecks of orange. If they are red, it is deadly. If it is any other color, it is useless.’

      Anthony took notice of Nicholas and bowed slightly. ‘Highness.’

      Nicholas sat upon the bench they had just been peering under, taking the weight off his foot. ‘Squire,’ he corrected.

      Nakor grinned his lopsided grin. ‘For the present, Squire, but Prince always. Anthony knows this.’

      Nicholas ignored the observation. ‘What were you two doing?’

      Anthony seemed embarrassed. ‘Well, there’s a small mushroom-like growth that you can find in dark, damp places –’

      ‘Under the bench,’ injected Nakor.

      ‘– and Nakor was showing me how to identify it correctly.’

      ‘For magic potions?’ asked Nicholas.

      ‘As a drug,’ snapped Nakor. ‘To induce sleep – if prepared correctly. Very handy when you have to cut an arrow out of a soldier, or remove a bad tooth.’

      Nicholas indulged himself. ‘I thought all you magicians have to do is wave your hand and put someone in a trance.’

      Anthony shrugged, as if to say that he wasn’t much of a magician, but Nakor said, ‘See, that’s what comes of letting children grow up uneducated.’ He opened his bag and took out an orange. ‘Want one?’ he asked.

      Nicholas nodded and Nakor tossed the fruit to him. He gave another to Anthony. Then he handed the bag to Nicholas. ‘Look inside.’

      Nicholas examined the large rucksack. He found it simple: black material, feeling like common felted wool. A leather drawstring had been sewn around the mouth of the bag, and a wooden frog and loop served as a clasp. The bag was empty. Handing it back, Nicholas said, ‘There’s nothing in it.’

      Nakor reached in and withdrew a writhing snake. Anthony’s eyes widened and Nicholas scooted backward on the bench, until he hit the wall behind. ‘That’s a viper!’

      With a wave of his hand, Nakor said, ‘This? It’s just a stick.’

      In his hand was a simple piece of wood, which he put back in the bag; then again he tossed the bag to Nicholas. Nicholas examined it closely and said, ‘It’s empty.’ he handed the bag to Nakor. ‘How did you do that?’

      Nakor grinned again. ‘It’s easy if you know the trick.’

      Anthony shook his head. ‘He does some very impressive things, yet insists there is no magic’

      Nakor nodded. ‘Maybe I’ll explain it to you someday, magician. Pug knows.’

      Nicholas glanced over his shoulder at the walls above the courtyard and said, ‘I’ve been hearing a lot about Pug today, it seems.’

      Anthony said, ‘He is something of a legend here. At Stardock, too. He left before I joined the community there.’

      Nicholas said, ‘Well, you can’t have been a member for long; he’s only been gone from there about eight years.’

      Anthony smiled. ‘I’m afraid I’m a very junior magician. The masters felt –’

      ‘Masters!’ snorted Nakor. ‘Those overblown fools Korsh and Watoom!’ Shaking his head, he sat down next to Anthony. ‘They were the reason I left Stardock.’ He pointed to Anthony as he looked at Nicholas. ‘This boy was quite gifted, but he is what those fools call a “lesser” magician. If I had stayed, I would have made him one of my Blue Riders!’ Grinning at Anthony, he said, ‘I sure made some trouble there, didn’t I?’

      Anthony laughed, and Nicholas saw him look as young as Harry and himself. ‘That’s the truth. The Blue Riders are the most popular faction at Stardock, and there are some very bitter fights –’

      ‘Fights!’ exclaimed Nicholas. ‘Magicians fighting?’

      Anthony said, ‘Student brawls, really. There are some older apprentices, who call themselves the Hands of Korsh – though he doesn’t care for that – who often start trouble in the taverns at Stardock. No one causes serious damage – the masters wouldn’t allow that – but it can result in a cracked head now and again.’ He sighed, remembering. ‘I wasn’t there long enough to become seriously involved with all that politics. I was having too much trouble with my studies. That’s why they sent me here, at Duke Martin’s request, because I’m not much of a magician.’

      Nakor shook his head and made a face. ‘If you’re not much like them, that’s a good thing.’ He stood up. ‘I’m going to the woods to look for some things. I’ll see you at supper.’ He pointed to Anthony. ‘Put some salve on the boy’s foot, so it’ll be better tomorrow.’

      Anthony said, ‘I have some things that might help.’

      Without further word, Nakor scampered from the garden, leaving the young magician and Squire alone.

      Nicholas was the first to speak. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever known a stranger person.’

      Anthony said, ‘I’ve met a few strange ones at Stardock, but no one to rival Nakor.’

      ‘Was he one of your teachers at Stardock, before he left?’

      Anthony shook his head and sat in the spot Nakor had just vacated. ‘Not really. I’m not sure what he was doing there, except causing trouble for Watoom and Korsh. The story is he showed up one day with a letter from Prince Borric and some claim that Pug told him to come to Stardock. He stayed about three or four years, and did some strange things, mostly converting a lot of students to the notion that everyone could learn magic – or what he calls “tricks” – and that magicians were not very bright for not being able to understand this.’ Anthony sighed. ‘I had problems of my own at the time, and didn’t pay too much attention. I was a new student and saw Nakor only two or three times, around the island.’

      Nicholas said, ‘Is it true that they sent you because you weren’t very good?’

      Anthony said, ‘I suspect as much. There were many more gifted students than I, and no small number of accomplished master magicians