The Complete Darkwar Trilogy. Raymond E. Feist

to those of the elves.’

      ‘As would any youngster with a little talent who had been sent to live with the elves, Nakor.’ He looked around the island and said, ‘Do you see many skilled hunters here?’

      Nakor remained silent.

      ‘We both know that one of the reasons I was sent to stay with Tomas in Elvandar was my unhappiness here. Father thought a change would do me good, and he was right. There’s a difference between being the only human boy among elves and being treated with respect, to being the only youngster without magical abilities among magic users and being treated with contempt.’

      ‘Contempt is too harsh a word, Caleb.’

      Caleb looked at Nakor. ‘You weren’t always there, nor was Father. Mother saw, and she tried to shield me, as did Magnus, but children can be cruel, Nakor. You want your heartless bastards, get them when they are children and don’t let them learn compassion.’

      ‘You sound bitter,’ said Nakor as they approached the cookhouse.

      ‘Do I?’ Caleb shrugged. ‘I don’t feel bitter, but I guess some wounds, even childish wounds, never heal. They just grow faint.’

      ‘What is truly troubling you, Caleb?’

      They passed the cookhouse and continued on to the main building of Villa Beata. ‘I feel useless, and in the wrong place.’ Caleb stopped as they reached the open doorway into the connecting hall. ‘I’m a messenger for the most part, carrying missives that aren’t important enough for Magnus or yourself or any magic-user transport.

      ‘I know that I can blend in where Magnus can’t, but other than that, what use am I?’

      Nakor began to say something, but Caleb held up his hand. His brown eyes were set in a serious expression and his voice held a tinge of anger. ‘Do you think if Tal Hawkins or Kaspar of Olasko had been in that wagon they’d have borne a scratch after dispatching those bandits?’

      Nakor remained silent.

      ‘I’m an adequate swordsman, Nakor. Better than average, but not remarkable. I am a good hunter – perhaps even a great one – but how useful is that in dealing with our enemies? So, I can scout. So can a lot of other men.

      ‘My point is, there is nothing special for me to do, nothing that lets me pull my own weight.’

      Nakor shook his head and put his hand on Caleb’s shoulder ‘My young friend, how wrong you are. The day will come when you will understand your true potential, Caleb, and finally realize just how special you are. Until then, if you want to feel sorry for yourself, feel free. I just don’t have time to stand around and listen.’ With that, he turned and walked off.

      Caleb stood for a minute locked in inner conflict. Then, he started to chuckle, and that became a full-blown laugh. Talking to Nakor always lifted his dark moods. Caleb decided to return to his quarters to rest and give some thought to what he was going to do with Tad and Zane.

      Zane lay on the shore, coughing and trying hard not to look ridiculous. Tad helped him to sit up and said, ‘If you’re going to wade out over your head, you should at least learn how to paddle.’

      Zane spat water and coughed some more. Then he said, ‘I got distracted.’

      ‘He is all right?’ asked one of the sisters from behind Tad. The six of them were gathered as were other students, all looking on with a mixture of concern and amusement.

      ‘He’ll live,’ said Tad, pulling his friend to his feet. The sisters whispered and giggled, then fled back to the water. ‘What were you trying to do?’ asked Tad.

      Zane spoke while his eyes followed the retreating backs of the sisters. ‘One of them … Zadrina, I think, pulled me out and kissed me.’

      ‘I can’t tell them apart,’ said Tad. ‘And they’ll all kiss you if you let them.’

      ‘But this was a kiss! She really kissed me.’

      ‘And then you opened your eyes and discovered you were under water?’

      Nodding his head, Zane echoed, ‘I opened my eyes and discovered I was under water.’

      ‘Which is when the drowning started.’

      ‘Which is when the drowning started,’ agreed Zane.

      ‘I am going to have to teach you to swim.’

      ‘Soon,’ said Zane, watching the girls splashing with some of the other boys. ‘But not today. I drank enough of the lake so I may never be thirsty again.’

      ‘Well, let’s head back.’ Tad looked in the direction of the villa. ‘Caleb and Nakor were talking just before we went swimming. I wonder if they’ve decided what to do with us?’

      ‘Well,’ said Zane. ‘Whatever they decide I hope they wait until tomorrow, because I’m supposed to meet Zadrina after evening meal in the pool garden.’

      Slapping his foster brother on the shoulder, he said, ‘Just don’t drown yourself.’

      ‘I won’t.’ As they walked towards the villa, Zane said, ‘Do you know they come from a world that’s mostly water? That’s why they’re in it most of the day.’

      ‘I’m still having trouble imagining another world,’ conceded Tad.

      ‘Worlds,’ said Zane. ‘I would too, but everyone here takes it as a matter of course, so I’m getting used to the idea.’ He looked around as they walked. ‘When we were boys, it was easy to think of Kesh and the Kingdom, because people from both nations passed through the town all the time, but other nations were hard for me to imagine. This is like that, I think, only more so.’ He glanced at Tad. ‘If that makes sense?’

      Tad nodded he understood.

      They hadn’t quite reached the main building when a slender man wearing a pair of tights and a billowing shirt appeared from out of a doorway and said, ‘Ah! There you are. You are the two boys from Stardock?’ He didn’t wait for an answer but motioned them to follow. He moved like a dancer or acrobat, fluidly and with an economy of motion, and on his feet were ankle-high boots of odd design, cross-gartered at the top and tied above the anklebone, but with soft soles of what looked to be doubly reinforced leather. His hair was the palest blond, and flowed to his shoulders.

      They went to the side of the village opposite the small lake, and he looked over his shoulder, once, regarded them for a moment with pale blue eyes, then said, ‘Don’t fall behind.’

      The boys found themselves climbing a path up a ridge, and by the time they reached the crest, they were almost breathless. The man who led them didn’t pause, simply saying, ‘No time to rest now, boys.’

      Tad and Zane as one took a deep breath and followed after, heading down a steep path that led to the seashore. Off to the left they could see a black edifice rising from a promontory. ‘What’s that?’ wondered Zane.

      ‘The castle of the Black Sorcerer,’ answered the man.

      ‘Who’s the Black Sorcerer?’ asked Tad.

      The man looked over his shoulder, grinning. His face looked young, perhaps only a few years older than the boys, but his blond hair was shot through with grey. ‘Pug’s the Black Sorcerer when he’s here. If he’s not, then sometimes Nakor, or Magnus, or Miranda, or someone else. It’s whoever’s handy.’

      Tad said, ‘I don’t understand,’ and he stopped, to catch his breath. ‘Can you wait a minute?’

      The man stopped and said, ‘Winded? At your age?’

      Zane also stopped. ‘That was a long climb.’

      ‘That was nothing,’ said the man. ‘Wait until I get done with you; you’ll be running up and down those paths without thought.’

      ‘The Black Sorcerer,’ said Tad between breaths, pointing