The Complete Krondor’s Sons 2-Book Collection. Raymond E. Feist

with some not-so-idle threatening, to keep Erland from riding farther into the wastes than Locklear judged safe. The young Prince was frantic to search for his brother, in case he was lying unconscious a few yards away, in a gully or ravine, in need of care. Locklear spread the men out to patrol the surrounding area, always keeping a chain of guards posted so that someone was always in sight of the impromptu camp. Gamina tended the wounded, getting them ready to ride to the closest shelter when James returned.

      Finally, James returned, accompanied by the Keshian patrol. Sergeant Ras-al-Fawi was obviously displeased to have his respite interrupted, especially given the potential for personal difficulty should his superiors judge him somehow at fault, as the attack came in his patrol area. He wished to put as much distance between himself and these cursed Islemen as possible, but the possibility of an international incident between the Empire and her largest neighbour gave sufficient reason to put his irritation aside and help in the search for the lost Prince.

      Experienced trackers quickly discovered the gully wherein the raiders had hidden. Shouts brought the entire company to the edge of a gully, where two scouts were inspecting a large rockfall. One continued poking about in the rubble while the second scout carried a single boot up to where the Islemen waited. There was no mistaking the scarlet and yellow design of the boot. Pointing back down at the mass of boulders he said, ‘M’lord, I found this. A little farther in, under the rocks, I can see what’s left of the foot that wore it.’

      Erland sat in silent shock as James asked, ‘Can we dig him out?’

      The Keshian scout at the bottom of the rockfall shook his head. ‘It would take a company of engineers a day or two at best, m’lord.’ He pointed up to the place the slide had begun. ‘It was recently done, from the signs. To cover the owner of this boot, and others, perhaps.’ Then he pointed to the far side of the gully. ‘And if too much movement occurred here, the other side might come down as well. I’m afraid it will be risky.’

      Erland said, ‘I want him dug out.’

      James said, ‘I understand—’

      Erland interrupted. ‘No, you don’t. That may not be Borric down there.’

      Locklear attempted to be understanding. ‘I know how you must feel.’

      ‘No,’ said Erland, ‘you don’t know.’ To James he said, ‘We don’t know that’s Borric down there. He could have lost the boot during the struggle. He could be a prisoner. We don’t know if that’s him under the rocks.’

      James said, ‘Gamina, is there any sign of Borric?’

      Gamina just shook her head. ‘The thoughts I detected earlier were in this gully. But there was no pattern of thinking that was familiar.’

      Erland was unmoved. ‘That proves nothing.’ To James he said, ‘You know how close he and I are. If he were dead … I’d feel something.’ Looking across the broken landscape of the high desert he said, ‘He’s out there somewhere. And I intend to find him.’

      ‘And what are you going to do, m’lord?’ asked the Keshian Sergeant. ‘Ride out into the plateau country alone and without water or food? It doesn’t look it, but it’s as much a desert here as in the great sand ergs of the Jal-Pur. Beyond that rise of ridges over there the true sandy wastes begin, and if you don’t know where the Oasis of the Broken Palms is, you’ll not live long enough to find the Oasis of the Hungry Goats. There are thirty or so places out there you can find water and a few with food-bearing plants as well, but you can walk within yards of several and not know them. You would die, young lord.’

      Turning his horse back toward the way they had come, Sergeant Ras-al-Fawi said, ‘My lords, I grieve for your loss, but my duty dictates I ride on and discover others bent upon breaking the Empire’s peace. I shall file a report on this when I reach the terminus of my patrol. If you would like, I’ll leave a scout with you and you may continue your search. When you are satisfied that nothing more can be done, head back to the road.’ Pointing south, he said, ‘The road continues past the foothills of the Pillars of the Stars to Nar Ayab. We keep many stations and patrols along that route. Dispatch riders move constantly among those stations and into the heart of the Empire. Send word ahead of your arrival and a state welcome will be mounted by the Governor of Nar Ayab. From there, he will send mounted soldiers to protect you until you reach the city of Kesh.’ He left unsaid that had this been done from the start, the bandits would never have been able to surprise the Islemen. ‘I will mark this location, and ensure exact directions are in my report. In time, the Empress, blessings be upon her, will order engineers out to retrieve your young Prince, and he will be returned home for a fitting burial. Until then, I can only wish you the gods’ favour in your travels.’

      With a wave and heels to the side of the horse, the Sergeant and his patrol headed away from the gully. James skirted the top of the fall and looked down to the lone Keshian scout who remained. ‘What do you see?’

      The scout considered the signs, ‘Many men, milling about. A murder, there.’ He pointed to a dark spot upon the already dry ground.

      ‘Murder!’ said Locklear. ‘How can you be certain?’

      ‘Blood, m’lord,’ answered the scout. ‘Which would not be unusual after a struggle, save this is in a large pool, with no signs of a wounded man approaching this spot. See the large splatter on those rocks there? I would guess a throat was cut.’ He pointed to two lines of faint scratches in the dust leading from the bloodstain to the rockfall. ‘Two heels as someone was dragged to where the rocks were pushed.’ He pointed again to the top of the gully. ‘One climbed there.’ He glanced about once more, then scampered up the incline to where his horse waited. ‘They move south, to the Oasis of the Broken Palms.’

      Locklear said, ‘How do you know?’

      The guard smiled. ‘It is the only place they can go, m’lord, for they move into the desert, and without baggage horses they cannot carry enough water to see them through to Durbin.’

      ‘Durbin!’ Erland almost spat the word. ‘That rat hole. Why would they risk the dangers of the desert to go there?’

      ‘Because,’ James answered, ‘it is a safe harbour for every cutthroat and pirate from every nation bordering the Bitter Sea.’

      ‘And the best market for slaves in the Empire,’ said the scout. ‘In the heart of the Empire, slaves are plentiful, but up here very difficult to find. Only Kesh and Queg have open markets for slaves. In the Free Cities and the Kingdom, the practice is discouraged.’

      Erland said, ‘I don’t follow.’

      James turned his horse toward the direction the scout had indicated and said, ‘If only two guards,’ quickly he added, ‘or Borric and one guard remain alive, there’s enough profit at the Durbin slave auction to make the raid profitable. If they are taken into the Empire, the money is less than a third what it is in Durbin, and then the leader has an angry crew to govern, and that can be dangerous.’ James spoke with authority.

      Erland said, ‘Then why wouldn’t Borric just tell them who he is? He’s certainly worth more in ransom than he’d ever fetch as a slave.’

      James looked out thoughtfully across the wastelands at the late afternoon sun. Then he said, ‘If he is alive, I would have expected a message from the raiders, something telling us he is well and for us not to follow, and that a ransom demand would be made within a short time. It’s what I would have done … I would have made sure I didn’t have a company of soldiers dogging my heels.’

      The Keshian scout ventured, ‘These raiders may not be as clever as you, m’lord. Your Prince, should he live, may feel it dangerous to tell them who he is. They might cut his throat to avoid trouble and flee into the wastes. He may be unconscious, yet not injured enough for them to abandon. There may be other answers, m’lord.’

      Erland said, ‘Then we must hurry.’

      The scout said, ‘We must proceed cautiously to avoid ambush. Highness.’ He pointed into the sandy landscape. ‘If slavers