Wrath of a Mad God. Raymond Feist

had come to think of as the ‘Cursed Expedition’.

      Servan and Jommy were both currently serving in the Army of Roldem, though Jommy came from a land on the other side of the world. Servan was nobility, royalty even – somewhere in line to be king, should perhaps ten or eleven relatives expire unexpectedly. Yet they were now assigned to what could only be generously called an unusual company, soldiers from Roldem, the Kingdom of the Isles, Kesh, and even a contingent of miners and sappers from the dwarven city of Dorgin, all under the command of Kaspar of Olasko, former duke of what was now a province of the Kingdom of Roldem. Once a hunted outlaw with a price on his head, sometime over the last few years he had managed to rehabilitate his reputation and now had special status with both Roldem and the Empire of Great Kesh. His adjutant was a Roldem captain named Stefan who happened to be Servan’s cousin, which also made him another distant cousin to the King of Roldem.

      The arrival of the newcomer had revealed another puzzling aspect of this expedition. Jim was one of half a dozen men who were not by any stretch of the imagination soldiers, yet were billeted with the soldiers, sent out on missions with soldiers, and expected to follow instructions without question, as if they were soldiers. All Jommy and Servan could get from the usually voluble self-confessed thief was he was part of a special group of ‘volunteers’ who were here to train with the combined forces of Roldem, Kesh, the Kingdom, and a scattering of officers from the Eastern Kingdoms.

      The usually curious Jommy was beside himself with curiosity to discover what was going on, but the last few months of serving with various forces from Roldem had taught him that a young officer’s best course was to keep silent and listen. Servan had that knack by nature.

      Still, Jommy’s curiosity couldn’t be entirely stemmed, so he thought perhaps a different approach to the subject might get him some hint of what was going on. ‘Jim, you’re from the Kingdom, right?’

      ‘Yes,’ said the young thief. ‘Born in Krondor; lived there all my life until now.’

      ‘You claim to be a thief—’ began Jommy.

      Jim shifted his weight, lightly brushing against Jommy, then with a grin held up Jommy’s belt pouch. ‘This is yours, I believe?’

      Servan tried hard not to laugh while Jommy snatched back his belt-purse, which had been tucked up under his tunic. ‘Very well,’ he said, ‘you are a thief.’

      ‘A very good thief.’

      ‘A very good thief,’ Jommy conceded. ‘But what I want to know is how a very good thief from Krondor finds himself out here on the edge of the world.’

      ‘That’s a story,’ said Jim. ‘I’ve travelled a lot, you see.’

      ‘Oh?’ said Servan, welcoming the distraction from the tedious rain.

      ‘Yes,’ said the agreeable thief. ‘Been to some very odd places.’ He smiled, and years dropped away from his visage, showing an almost boyish glee. ‘There was this one time when I was forced to seek shelter from just this sort of driving rain in a cave on a distant island.’

      Jommy and Servan exchanged a glance, and both smiled and nodded, silently communicating the same thought: not one word of what they were about to hear would be true, but the story should be entertaining.

      ‘I was … taking a journey out of Krondor.’

      ‘Business?’ asked Servan.

      ‘Health,’ said Jim, his grin widening further. ‘It seemed like a good idea to be out of Krondor for a while.’

      Jommy tried not to laugh. ‘So you went …?’

      ‘I took ship out of Krondor, bound for the Far Coast, and then in Carse found a likely bunch of lads who had come by some information on a … venture that would net all involved a handsome living.’

      ‘Pirates,’ said Jommy and Servan at the same moment.

      ‘Freebooters, out of Freeport in the Sunset Islands.’ Jim nodded. ‘At the time the captain claimed they sailed under a letter of marque from the Crown, though I never saw it. But being a trusting lad at the time, I took his word.’

      Jommy doubted there had been a single moment in the thief’s life when he had ever been a ‘trusting lad’ but he let the comment go.

      ‘Well, I find myself on this island, in this cave, with this elf lass …’

      ‘Did you leave something out?’ asked Servan.

      ‘Oh, a lot actually, but I’m talking about strange places I’ve been.’

      ‘Let him go on,’ said Jommy with ill-concealed mirth.

      ‘Anyway, the lads I had shipped with were out looking for me, as I had tumbled to their less-than-honourable intentions as to my share of the treasure—’

      ‘Treasure?’ began Servan, but Jommy held up his hand. He wanted to hear this story.

      ‘Well, that’s another part of the tale,’ said Jim. ‘Anyway, as I was saying, I was hiding in this cave when I encounter this elf lass, name of Jazebel—’

      ‘Jazebel,’ echoed Jommy.

      ‘Jazebel,’ repeated Jim. ‘And she had her own story of how she’d got there. She was trying to keep from being killed by these bears, only they weren’t rightly bears, more like big furry owls.’

      ‘Big furry owls,’ said Servan, open astonishment now on his face. Jommy could barely contain himself, all cold, wet misery forgotten in the moment.

      ‘Well, as I was saying, it was an odd place, far outside the Sunset Isles. She was gathering eggs for some elf magic. But anyway, she and I managed to fend off the creatures long enough to let my bloody companions pass by the cave, then we slipped out and got to a safe spot.’

      ‘How did you ever get home?’ asked Jommy.

      Jim grinned. ‘She had this magic stone, some elf thing, and once we were where she could do some magic, it took us to Elvandar.’

      ‘Elvandar? Is that near Cloud Land?’ Servan asked, invoking the name of a mythical land from children’s tales.

      Jommy said, ‘Elvandar’s real, Servan. I know people who’ve been there.’

      ‘Next you’ll be telling me you know some elves, too.’

      Jommy smiled. ‘Not personally, but I know people who do.’

      ‘Well,’ said Jim. ‘As I had helped saved the girl and all that, the Queen and her husband feted me with a supper, gave me their thanks and told me I was welcome any time I wanted to come calling. Then they helped me get to the outpost at Jonril – the one up in Crydee Duchy, not the one in Kesh it’s named after – and from there I got back to Krondor.’

      ‘Amazing,’ said Jommy.

      ‘More than amazing,’ said Servan, shivering again. ‘Unbelievable.’

      Jim reached inside his tunic and pulled out a leather cord around his neck bearing a beautifully carved trinket. ‘The Queen herself gave me this,’ he said. ‘She said any elf would recognize it and I would be named Elf-friend.’

      Both Jommy and Servan leaned forward to inspect the trinket more closely. It was a pattern of interlocking knots, carved in what looked to be bone or ivory, and there was something about the design and shape that seemed more than human.

      Suddenly serious, the thief said, ‘I’m a lot of things, lads: rogue, adventurer, thief and, when needs be, downright murderous thug, but no man has ever called Jimmyhand a liar.’

      ‘Jimmyhand?’ asked Jommy.

      ‘My … professional name, as it were. After a famous old thief from back in the day, Jimmy the Hand. Some say I’m a lot like him. Others say he might have been my great grand-da – but I think that was my mum trying to make me feel special. So, when I was a wee tyke I’d say, “I’m