life.’
To the others in Luten’s band, he said, ‘I lead.’ There was no argument voiced. Glancing around, he pointed to a depression in the small gully, overhung by a clump of boulders. ‘Dump him in there.’ Two men picked up Luten and threw him into the depression. ‘And the other.’ The dead guard was carried and tossed in beside Luten.
Turning to face Borric, the slaver said, ‘Show me no trouble, and you’ll live. Trouble me, and you’ll die. Understand?’
Borric nodded. To the others, Kasim said, ‘Get ready to leave now.’ He then jumped up to the edge of the gully, ignoring the howling wind. The powerful slaver put shoulder to one of the larger boulders and shoved it over, starting a small landslide which covered the two bodies. He leaped nimbly down into the depression, and glanced about as if anticipating trouble from one of Luten’s men. When no one offered him any difficulty, he rose to his full height. ‘To the oasis at Broken Palms.’
‘What are your skills?’ The slaver stood above Borric, whose wits were slowly returning to him. He had been dragged to a horse and forced to ride with his hands manacled. The pounding he had taken had added to the disorientation he had felt since his capture. He vaguely recalled the storm suddenly being over and then arriving at an odd oasis, surrounded by three ancient palm tree trunks, broken off by some cataclysmic storm of years gone by.
Borric shook his head to clear it and answered back in the formal court language of Kesh, ‘What skills?’
The slaver took his answer as a sign of confusion from the head blow. ‘What tricks? What magics do you do?’
Borric understood. The slaver judged him a magician from Stardock, which accounted for the magic blanking chains. For an instant, Borric felt an impulse to explain who he was, but thoughts of his father receiving ransom demands on his behalf kept him from answering quickly. He could come forth at anytime between now and the slave auction at Durbin, and perhaps between now and then he could conspire to escape.
Suddenly the man lashed out and struck the Prince a backhanded blow. ‘I’ve no time to be gentle with you, mage. Your party is but a few hours away and no doubt will be looking for you. Or even if they have no love of you in their hearts, there are still many Imperial patrols out. We mean to be far from here, quickly.’
Another man came to stand over the kneeling man. ‘Kasim, just kill him and leave him. No one pays a good price for a magician at the slave blocks. Too much trouble keeping them in line.’
Kasim looked over his shoulder and said, ‘I lead this band, now, I’ll decide who we kill and who we take to market.’
Borric said, ‘I’m no magician. I won the robes in a game of poker.’
The second man ran a hand over his dark-bearded face. ‘He lies. It’s some magician’s trick to get free of the manacles and kill us all with his magic. I say kill him now.’
‘And I say if you don’t shut up and quit arguing, there’ll be another worthless carcass for the vultures to feast on. Get the men ready. As soon as the horses have been watered and rested, I want to put as much distance as I can between those guards and us.’ To Borric he said, ‘We found some pretty baubles in the bottom of the baggage, mage. The lady you rode with had enough gold for me to pay these brigands. You’re my profit.’
With an inarticulate grunt, the raider moved away, signalling the others to ready for riding. Borric managed to sit upright against a large boulder.
‘I’m no magician.’
‘Well, you’re no fighting man, either. To travel unarmed at the edge of the Jal-Pur, one must either have a great company of guards or a great deal of faith. Faith is for priests, which you’re not. You don’t look the fool, but then I’ve never been one for casual appearances.’ Shifting from Keshian to the King’s Tongue, he said, ‘Where are you from?’
‘Krondor,’ Borric decided through his aching head that he would be best served by obscuring his identity, ‘but I’ve travelled a lot.’
The slaver sat back on his haunches, arms resting on his knees. ‘You’re not much more than a boy. You speak Keshian like a courtier and your Kingdom tongue is nearly as fair. If you’re not a spellcaster, what are you?’
Improvising, Borric said, ‘I … teach. I know several languages. I can read, write, and do sums. I know history and geography. I can recite the line of kings and empresses, the names of the major nobles and trading houses—’
‘Enough!’ interrupted Kasim. ‘You’ve convinced me. A tutor, then, is it? Well, there are plenty of rich men who need educated slaves to teach their children.’ Without waiting for any response from Borric, he stood up. As he stepped away, he said, ‘You are worthless to me dead, teacher, but I am also not a patient man. Do not be too much trouble and you will live. Cause me difficulty, and I’ll kill you as soon as spit on you.’ To his band he said, ‘Mount up! We ride to Durbin!’
ERLAND TURNED HIS HORSE.
‘Borric!’ he shouted over the still-howling wind.
James and the guards watched from where they stood holding their horses. The newly elevated Earl shouted, ‘Get off your horse before she runs away with you!’
The already excited mount was snorting and whinnying at the frightening noises and stinging blasts from the sandstorm, despite her training and Erland’s firm control. The Prince ignored James’s orders and continued to circle away from the others, shouting his brother’s name. ‘Borric!’
Gamina stood beside her husband and said, ‘It’s difficult to concentrate with this wind screaming in my ears, but there are thoughts coming from that direction.’ She covered her face with her forearm, turned, and pointed to the west.
‘Borric?’ asked Locklear, who stood next to James, his back to the biting wind.
Gamina held up her arm, letting the sleeve of her gown shield her face. ‘No. I’m sorry. I don’t know these men, but none of the minds I’ve touched is his. When I attempt to focus on what I remember of his thoughts during the battle …’
‘Nothing,’ James finished.
‘Could he be unconscious?’ Locklear’s expression was hopeful.
Gamina said, ‘If he’s stunned or farther away, then I would not sense him. My abilities are limited by the strength and training of the other mind. I can speak to my father from over a hundred miles away and he can speak to me across incredible distances. But those who attacked us are no more than a few hundred feet away; I get images and stray words about the fight.’ With sadness in her voice, she said, ‘I can’t sense Borric anywhere.’
James reached out to her and she came into the comfort of his arm. His horse nickered at the change in pressure on the reins and James gave an impatient yank on the leathers, silencing the animal. Softly, so that only Gamina would hear, he said, ‘I pray the gods let him be alive.’
For an hour the wind blew, and Erland circled his companions to the limit of his ability to see them, while he cried his brother’s name. Then the winds ceased, and in the silence that followed, his hoarse cries rang across a desolate landscape: ‘Borric!’
Locklear signalled to the Captain of his company for a report. The officer said, ‘Three men dead or missing, m’lord. Two more wounded enough we should get them to shelter. The rest are fit and ready.’
James considered his options, then decided. ‘You remain here with Erland and search the immediate area, but don’t wander too far. I’ll take two men and ride to the Inn of the Twelve Chairs and see if that Keshian patrol can help us locate