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

boy. I’ve been taught by one who was to you as you are to the fleas who live in your shirt. Do you believe me?’ Suli nodded, unwilling to trust his voice. ‘If you seek to betray me or leave me, I will ensure I don’t go to the block alone. We are in this as one, do you understand?’ The boy nodded, and this time Borric saw his agreement wasn’t just to gain his freedom, but to show he believed Borric would indeed turn him over to the guards if he attempted to abandon the Prince. Borric released him, and the boy fell hard upon the ground. This time he didn’t attempt to run, but simply sat upon the hard-packed dirt, a look of fear and hopelessness upon his face.

      ‘Oh, Father of Mercies, I pray you, forgive my foolishness. Why, oh, why did you cast me in with this mad lord?’

      Borric settled to one knee. ‘Can you get me the wire, or were you just lying?’

      The boy shook his head. ‘I can get it.’ He rose to his feet and motioned Borric to follow.

      Borric followed him to the fence. The boy turned his back so the guards would not see his face should they look in his direction. Pointing to the boards, the boy said, ‘Some of these are warped. Look for what you need.’

      Borric turned his back as well, but studied the fencing from the corner of his eye. About three boards down, a warp had bowed the fence outward slightly, pushing a nail out. The Prince leaned against that board and could feel the nailhead poking him in the shoulder.

      Borric turned suddenly and pushed the boy against the board. The boy leaned into it and, in one motion, Borric hooked the edge of his metal cuff over the nail. ‘Now pray I don’t bend it,’ he whispered. Then with a quick yank, the nail was free.

      Stooping to pick it up, he moved to hide his prize from any watching eyes. Glancing around, he saw with relief that no one had bothered to take note of his odd behaviour.

      With little movements, he had one, then the other manacle off. He quickly rubbed his chafed wrists, then put the manacles back on.

      ‘What are you doing?’ whispered the young beggar.

      ‘If the guards see me without the bracelets, they’ll come investigate. I just wanted to see how difficult it was going to be to get them off. Obviously, not very.’

      ‘Where has a noble son such as yourself learned such a thing?’ asked Suli.

      Borric smiled. ‘One of my instructors had a … colourful childhood. Not all his lessons were standard teaching for—’ He had almost said princes but at the last instant, he said, ‘—noble sons.’

      ‘Ah!’ said the boy. ‘Then you are one of noble birth. I thought as much from your speech.’

      ‘My speech?’ asked Borric.

      ‘You talk like one of the commoners, most noble lord. Yet your accent is that of one from the highest born families, even royalty itself.’

      Borric considered. ‘We’re going to have to change that. If we are forced to hide in the city for any length of time, I must pass as a commoner.’

      The boy sat. ‘I can teach you.’ Looking down at the manacles, he said, ‘Why the special confinement, son of a most noble father?’

      ‘They think I’m a magician.’

      The boy’s eyes widened. ‘Then why have they not put you to death? Magicians are most troublesome to confine. Even the poor ones can visit boils and hairy warts upon those who displease them.’

      Borric smiled. ‘I’ve almost convinced them I am a poor tutor.’

      ‘Then why have they not removed the chains?’

      ‘I’ve almost convinced them.’

      The boy smiled. ‘Where shall we go, master?’

      ‘To the harbour, where I plan to steal a small boat and make for the Kingdom.’

      The boy nodded his approval. ‘That is a fine plan. I shall be your servant, young lord, and your father will reward me richly for helping his son escape this evil den of black-souled murderers.’

      Borric had to laugh. ‘You’re given to a noble turn of phrase yourself, now, aren’t you?’

      The boy brightened. ‘One must be gifted in the use of words to earn one’s living as a beggar, my most glorious lord. To simply ask for alms will bring nothing but kicks and cuffing from all but the kindest of men. But to threaten them with curses of the most elaborate sort will bring gifts.

      ‘If I say, “May your wife’s beauty turn to ugliness,” what merchant would bother to hesitate in his passing. But should I say, “May your mistress grow to resemble your wife! And may your daughters do likewise!’” then he’ll pay many coppers for me to remove the curse, lest his daughters grow to look like his wife and he can find no husbands for them, and his mistress grow to look like his wife and he lose his pleasure.’

      Borric grinned, genuinely amused. ‘Have you such powers of cursing that men fear you so?’

      The boy laughed. ‘Who’s to say? But what man would hoard a few coppers against the chance the curse might work?’

      Borric sat down. ‘I shall share my meals with you, as they account the bread and stew. But I must be free of this place before they finally tally for auction.’

      ‘Then they will raise alarm and search for you.’

      Borric smiled. ‘That is what I wish them to do.’

      Borric ate his half of his dinner and gave the plate to the boy. Suli wolfed the food down and licked the tin plate to get the last bits.

      For seven days they had shared Borric’s rations, and while they both felt hunger, it was sufficient for them; the slavers gave generous portions for those heading toward the auction. No dark circles under eyes, nor hollow cheeks, nor shrunken frames would lower price if a few meals would prevent it.

      If any others had noticed the unorthodox manner in which the boy had joined the company in the pen, no one commented upon it. The slaves were quiet, each man lost in his own thoughts, and little attempt was made to converse. Why bother to make friends with those you would most likely never see again?

      Whispering so that no one would overhear, Borric said, ‘We must flee before the morning tally.’

      The boy nodded, but said, ‘I don’t understand.’ For seven days, he had been hiding behind the assembled slaves, ducking not to be included in the head count. Perhaps he had been seen once or twice, but the guards would not bother to recheck the number if they had one too many heads, simply assuming they had miscounted. If there had been too few, they would have recounted.

      ‘I need as much confusion in their search for us as possible. But I want most of the guards back at the auction the day following. You see?’

      The boy made no pretence of understanding. ‘No, master.’

      Borric had spent the last week profitably picking the boy’s brain for every piece of information he could about the city and what lay in the area surrounding the Slavers Guild. ‘Over that fence is the street to the harbour,’ Borric said, and Suli nodded to show he was correct. ‘Within minutes, dozens of guards will be racing down that street to find us before we can steal away on a boat for Queg or elsewhere, right?’

      The boy nodded. It was the logical assumption. ‘No one in his right mind would risk the desert, right?’

      ‘Certainly.’

      ‘Then we’re going to head toward the desert.’

      ‘Master! We will die!’

      Borric said, ‘I didn’t say we’d go into the desert, just we’d head that way and find a place to hide.’

      ‘But where, master? There are only the houses of the rich and powerful between here and the desert, and the soldiers’ barracks at the Governor’s house.’

      Borric