can do things – what I call my tricks. But I trust my gifts.
‘I am here to keep your son alive.’
Arutha shook his head, a small motion of denial. ‘Alive?’
‘He moves toward danger.’
‘What danger.’
Nakor shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
Arutha said, ‘What if I keep him here?’
‘You cannot.’ Nakor shook his head. ‘No, that’s wrong. You must not.’
‘Why?’
Nakor sighed and his smile faded. ‘A long time ago I met your friend James. He said things about you and your life and what he had done to gain your favor. He tells of a man who’s seen things.’
Arutha’s sigh echoed Nakor’s. ‘I’ve seen dead men rise and kill, and I’ve seen alien magic; I have known men born on other worlds. I’ve spoken to dragons and seen impossible visions become flesh.’
Nakor said, ‘Then trust me. You’ve made a choice. Abide by it. But let me and Ghuda go with your son.’
‘Why Ghuda?’
‘To keep me alive,’ said Nakor, and the grin returned.
‘Borric said you were a wizard.’
Nakor shrugged. ‘It serves my purpose at times to let others think such. Your friend Pug knew there was no magic’
‘You know Pug?’
‘No. But he was famous before I met Borric. He has done many wondrous things. And for a time I lived at Stardock.’
Arutha’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’ve not seen him for a dozen years, and word came to us that he had removed to Sorcerer’s Isle, wishing no contact with his old friends. I’ve honored that request.’
Nakor leaped from the wall. ‘Time to ignore it. We will need to see him. Tell your captain we will have to stop there on our way west.’
‘You know where I’m sending Nicholas?’
Nakor shook his head no. ‘I only know that when I saw Ghuda again, after so many years, he was sitting watching the sunset. I knew then that we would eventually journey west, toward the sunset.’ Nakor yawned. ‘I’m going to bed now, Prince.’
Arutha only nodded as the strange little man let himself back into the hallway that led to the balcony. The Prince of Krondor stood silently for a long time, leaning against the wall as he pondered what had been said. Nakor’s words echoed through his mind as he attempted to sort out the conversation.
One thing he knew, as he knew his own heartbeat: of all those whom he loved, Nicholas was the least able to care for himself should he travel in harm’s way. It was many hours before Arutha at last went to his bed.
THE PALACE WAS IN AN UPROAR.
Arutha had spent a quiet morning with his wife, and by the time they were finished with breakfast, she had agreed that a year or two with Martin might be the right thing for Nicholas. She had lived at Crydee as Arutha’s guest during the last year of the Riftwar and had come to think fondly of that modest town on the Far Coast. Rough by Krondorian standards though it might be, it was the place where she had come to know her beloved Arutha, with all his dark moods and worries as well as the lighter sides of his nature. She understood Arutha’s concerns over Nicholas, and his fear that the boy could find himself in over his head with the fate of others in the balance; she also knew that Arutha would view such an occurrence as a failure on his part. She relented – though she would miss her youngest child – because she understood this was for Arutha as much as for Nicholas. Out of deference to her, Arutha had protected Nicholas from many of the harsher realities of the world he lived in. His telling argument was the simple statement that Nicholas stood third in line of succession to the crown, behind his brothers, and nothing so far in his life had prepared him for that awesome charge should ill chance unexpectedly bring the crown to him, as it had to his uncle Lyam.
Anita had also sensed something behind his words, more than simple anxiety over a youngster leaving home for the first time, but she could not tell what it was. But most of all, Anita understood that her husband ached to be able to take control, to provide guidance, protection, and support for Nicholas, and that to let him go was perhaps harder for Arutha than it was for her.
Within an hour of Arutha’s telling Nicholas and Harry they were bound for Crydee with Amos, the thousand and one details of making ready for the voyage sent the household into a near state of panic. Yet with practice born of a thousand state occasions, the Royal Steward and his host of squires, pages, and servants rose to the occasion, and Arutha knew that when the ship left the following day, everything the Prince and his companion needed would be aboard.
The Royal Eagle lay ready to carry the arms and stores needed by the new garrison that Duke Martin was establishing. Amos was assuming command, and they would leave for Crydee on the early morning tide. The decision to leave so abruptly was made both because Arutha did not want time to second-guess his choice, and to take advantage of the favorable weather. The infamous Straits of Darkness would be navigable for the next few months, but fall would be upon Amos by the time he left for his return voyage. Once heavy weather set in, the straits between the Bitter Sea and the Endless Sea were too dangerous to attempt except in the most extreme need.
Amos walked down the long hall that led from the guest quarters. In the years he had lived in Krondor, he had never bothered to secure private lodgings outside the palace, as had most of the Prince’s staff. He was the only member of the Prince’s circle of advisers and commanders who was unmarried and did not require a place apart from court demands for a family. As he was at sea nearly three-quarters of the time, anyway, the days he stayed in the palace were few in any event.
But now he was wrestling with the notion of how his life would change after this voyage. He stood a moment, hesitating, then knocked upon the door. A servant quickly answered and, seeing the Admiral without, pulled the door wide. Amos entered and found Alicia sitting upon a divan before a wide glass doorway that gave upon her private balcony, opened to admit the morning breeze. She rose and smiled as he crossed to her.
He took her hand and kissed her cheek. While the servants knew well he had spent the night in this very apartment, they observed the pretense of not knowing in the name of court protocol. Amos had snuck out of the rooms before dawn and had returned to his own quarters. He had changed and journeyed to the harbor for a quick inspection of the Royal Eagle.
‘Amos,’ said the Dowager Princess. ‘I didn’t expect to see you until this evening.’
Amos was at a loss for words, which surprised Alicia. She had understood something was on his mind last night, for while he had been ardent, he had also been somewhat distracted. Several times he had appeared to be on the brink of saying something, only to switch into some inconsequential question or statement.
He glanced around, and when it was clear they were alone, he sat heavily beside her. Taking her hands in his own, he said, ‘Alicia, my darling, I’ve given the matter some thought—’
‘What matter?’ she interrupted.
‘Let me finish,’ he said. ‘If I don’t get this out, I’m likely to lose my nerve, hoist sail, and leave.’
She tried not to smile, for he seemed very serious. But she had a good idea of what was next.
‘I’m getting on in age—’
‘You’re still a youngster,’ she said playfully.
‘Dammit, woman, this