Magician (97 page)

Kasumi asked, “Will we be
troubled leaving the city?”

“The north gate is still the best
way. It is undermanned, as usual. For a small fee, the Mockers can
see you safely through.”

“Mockers?” asked the
fighter.

Lucas raised his brows in surprise “You
are from a long way off. The Guild of Thieves. They remain in control
of the Poor Quarter, and the Upright Man still has influence with the
merchants and traders, especially along the docks. The warehouse
district is their second home, after the Poor Quarter. They can get
you out, if you have any trouble at the gate.”

Laurie said, “We will keep that
in mind, Lucas. What of your family? I have not seen them around.”

Lucas seemed to shrink into himself,
“My wife is dead, Laurie, of the fever, a year ago. My sons are
both in the army. I have heard little of them in a year. Last time I
received a message, they were in the north with Lords Borric and
Brucal.

“The city is full of veterans of
the war. You can see them everywhere. They are the ones with missing
limbs, or blind eyes. But they always wear their old tabards. And a
pathetic sight they are, too.” He got a faraway look in his
eyes. “I just hope my boys don’t end up like that.”

Laurie and Kasumi said nothing. Lucas
came out of his reverie. “I must return downstairs . . . Supper
will be ready in four hours, though nothing like I used to serve.”
As the innkeeper turned to go, he said, “If you need to contact
the Mockers, let me know.”

After he had left, Kasumi said, “It
is a hard thing to know your country, Laurie, and still look upon the
war as glorious.”

Laurie nodded.

The warehouse was dark and musty.
Except for Laurie and Kasumi and two fresh horses, it was empty. They
had stayed at the Rainbow Parrot the night before and had purchased
new mounts at great expense, then had tried to leave the city. When
they had reached the city gates, they had been stopped by a
detachment of Bas-Tyra’s guards. When it was obvious that the
guards were not likely to let them leave without trouble, Laurie and
Kasumi had broken away from them, and a mad dash through the city had
followed. They had lost their pursuers in the Poor Quarter and had
returned to the Rainbow Parrot. Lucas had sent word to the Upright
Man, and now they waited for a thief to guide them out of the city.

A whistle broke the silence, and Laurie
and Kasumi had their swords in hand in an instant. A high-pitched
chuckle greeted them, and a small figure dropped from above. In the
dark it was difficult to see where the figure sprang from, but Laurie
suspected their visitor had been hiding in the rafters for some time.

The figure stepped forward, and in the
dim light they could see it was a boy, no older than thirteen.
“There’s a party at Mother’s,” the newcomer
said.

“And a good time will be had by
all,” Laurie answered.

“You’re the travelers,
then.”

“You’re the guide?”
asked Kasumi, taking no effort to hide the surprise in his voice.

The boy’s voice was filled with
bravado. “Aye. Jimmy the Hand is your guide. And a better one
in all Krondor you’ll not find.”

Laurie said, “What’s to be
done?”

“First there’s the matter
of payment. It’s a hundred sovereigns each.”

Without comment Laurie dug out several
small gems and handed them over “Will these do?”

The boy turned to the warehouse door
and cracked it slightly, admitting a shaft of moonlight. He inspected
the gems with an expert’s eye and returned to stand before the
two fugitives. “These’ll do. For another hundred, you can
have this.” He offered a piece of parchment.

Laurie took it, but couldn’t make
out what was written on it in the dim light. “What is it?”

Jimmy chuckled. “A royal warrant,
allowing the bearer to travel the King’s Highway.”

“Is it genuine?” asked the
minstrel.

“My word. I nicked it myself from
a trader from Ludland this morning. It’s valid for another
month.”

“Done,” said Laurie, and
the minstrel gave the boy another gem.

When the gems were safely in the
thief’s pouch, he said, “Soon we’ll be hearing a
brouhaha at the gate. A few of the boys will put on some mummery for
the guards. When everything’s up in the wind, we’ll slip
through.”

He returned to the door and looked out
without further comment. While they waited, Kasumi whispered, “Can
he be trusted?”

“No, but we have no choice. If
the Upright Man could show a larger profit by turning us in, he
might. But the Mockers have little love for the guards, and now less
than usual, according to Lucas, so it is unlikely. Still, keep your
wits about you.”

Time stretched on interminably, then
suddenly shouts could be heard. Jimmy signaled with a sharp whistle,
which was answered by another from outside. “It’s time,”
he said, and was out the door.

Laurie and Kasumi led their horses out
after him. “Follow closely and quickly,” their small
guide said as he set off.

They rounded the corner of a building
and could see the north gate. A group of men were involved in a
brawl, many appearing to be sailors from the docks. The guards were
doing their best to restore order, but each time one pushed a
combatant away from the fray, another would appear from the shadows
around the gate and join in. In a few minutes every guard was
involved in breaking up the fight, and Jimmy said, “Now!”

He broke from the building, with the
travelers close behind, and dashed to the wall next to the gatehouse.
They edged their way along in the shadows, the horses’ clatter
covered by the noise of the brawl. When they were near the gate, a
single guard could be seen, on the other side, whom they hadn’t
been able to see from their previous location.

Laurie gripped Jimmy’s shoulder
“We’ll have to take him quickly.”

Jimmy said, “No. If weapons are
drawn, the guards will leave that little bit of fun like a burning
whorehouse. Leave him to me.”

Jimmy sprang forward and ran to the
guard. As the guard brought his spear forward across his chest and
shouted, “Halt!” Jimmy kicked him hard in the leg, above
the boot. The man let out a howl, then looked at his small assailant
with fury on his face “Why you little—”

Jimmy stuck out his tongue and started
to run toward the docks. The guard set out in hot pursuit, and the
two travelers slipped through the gate. Once outside the city, they
mounted quickly and rode off. As they rode away from Krondor, they
could hear the sounds of the brawl.

They rested a day at Darkmoor, in an
inn in the town below the castle. They had been two days in the hills
and needed to rest their mounts before journeying over the grasslands
to Malac’s Cross. The town was quiet, and little of interest
occurred until the inn door opened and a man in dirty brown robes
entered. The man was old and bent with years, and thin to the point
of gauntness. The innkeeper looked up from cleaning ale cups and
said, “What do you wish?”

Softly the old man said, “Please,
sir, a little food.”

“Can you pay?”

“I can fashion spells to rid your
inn of vermin, should you be plagued by rats, sir. Perhaps—”

“Begone! I have no food for
beggars or magicians. Get out! And if I find my milk clabbered, I’ll
set my dogs upon you!”

The magician looked around. Laurie
reached across the table and touched Kasumi upon the arm. His Tsurani
heritage was betraying him, as he was showing open astonishment at
what he saw. Before him stood a magician, being treated as shabbily
as his clothes. Laurie’s touch caused him to regain his
composure. The magician slowly turned and left the inn.

Laurie sprang up and crossed to the
innkeeper. Slapping some coins on the table, he said, “Quick. A
joint of cold meat, a loaf of bread, and a skin of wine.”

The innkeeper looked surprised, but the
coins on the bar convinced him to do as ordered. When the items
ordered were upon the bar, Laurie scooped them up. He paused a moment
to grab a wedge of cheese off a platter and rushed out the door.
Kasumi was as amazed as the innkeeper appeared to be.

Laurie looked down the road and saw the
old man, his posture erect as he moved along with a staff in one
hand, using it as a walking stick. He ran after the man and, when he
had overtaken him, said, “Excuse me, but I was in the tavern a
moment ago, and . . .” He held out the food and wineskin.

He saw pride diminish in the old man’s
eyes. “Why are you doing this, minstrel?”

Laurie said, “I have a friend who
is a magician, a special friend. He did me a great kindness once, and
I . . . it’s something of a repayment.”

The magician accepted this explanation
and took the food. While he struggled with the burden, Laurie slipped
a pair of gems into the magician’s empty belt pouch. There
would be enough there to insure the magician never had to go hungry
again if he lived modestly. “What is this magician’s
name; perhaps I know him?”

“Milamber.”

The old man shook his head. “I
have not heard of him. Where does he abide?”

Laurie looked to the west, where the
sun set behind the hills. With strong emotions in his voice, he said,
“Far from here, my friend. Very far from here.”

The ship beat against the waves, while
the crew reefed the sails Laurie and Kasumi stood on deck watching
the spires and towers of Rillanon as the ship put into harbor. “A
fabulous city,” said the former Tsurani officer. “Not as
large as the cities of home, but so different. All those tiny fingers
of stone and the colors of the banners make it look like a city of
legend.”

“Strange,” said Laurie,
“Pug and I felt the same when we first saw Jamar. I suppose it
is simply that they’re so different from each other.”

They stood on the open deck, cool in
the breezes, but still able to feel the warmth of the sun. Both were
dressed in the finest clothing they could buy in Salador, for they
wished to be presentable at court and knew they had little chance of
being admitted to see the King should they look like simple
vagabonds.

The ship’s captain ordered the
last sails taken in, and the ship slid into place alongside the docks
a few moments later. Ropes were thrown, to men waiting on the quay,
and the vessel was quickly made fast.

As soon as they were able, the two
travelers were down the gangway and making their way through the city
Rillanon, the fabled and ancient capital of the Kingdom of the Isles,
stood bedecked in colors, flashing brightly in the sunlight, but
there was an undercurrent of tension in the atmosphere of the streets
and markets. Everywhere they passed, people spoke in hushed tones, as
if they feared someone might overhear them, and even the hawkers in
the street stalls seemed to offer their wares halfheartedly.

It was nearly the noon hour, and
without seeking rooms, they headed straight for the palace. When they
reached the main gate, an officer in the purple and gold of the Royal
Household Guard inquired their business.

Laurie said, “We bring messages
of the greatest importance to the King, regarding the war.”

The officer considered. They were
dressed well enough and didn’t appear to be the usual madmen
with predictions of doom, or prophets of some nameless truth, but
they were not officials of the court or army either. He decided on
the course of action followed most often in the armies of all nations
in all times: passing them along to a higher authority.

A guard escorted them to the office of
an assistant to the Royal Chancellor. Here they were made to wait for
a half hour before the assistant would see them. They entered the
man’s office and were confronted by the Steward of the Royal
Household, a self-important little man with a potbelly and a chronic
wheeze when he spoke. “What business do you gentlemen have?”
he inquired, making it clear that his estimation of them was
provisional.

“We carry word to the King
regarding the war,” Laurie answered.

“Oh?” he sniffed, “and
why aren’t these documents or messages or whatever they are
being delivered by the proper military pouch?”

Kasumi, obviously frustrated with the
wait now that they were in the palace, said, “Let us speak with
someone who can take us to the King.”

The Steward of the Royal Household
looked outraged. “I am Baron Gray. I am the one to whom you
will speak, man! And I have a good mind to have the guards toss you
into the street. His Majesty cannot be bothered with every charlatan
who tries to seek an audience. I am the one you must satisfy, and you
have not.”

Kasumi stepped forward and gripped the
man by the front of his tunic. “And I am Kasumi of the
Shinzawai. My father is Kamatsu, Lord of the Shinzawai, and Warchief
of the Kanazawai Clan. I will see your King!”

Lord Gray paled visibly. He frantically
pulled at Kasumi’s hand and tried to speak. His shock at what
he had just heard and what he felt at being handled this way raced
within him. It all proved to be too much for him to speak. He nodded
frantically until Kasumi released him.

Brushing at his tunic front, the man
said, “The Royal Chancellor will be informed—at once.”

He walked to a door, and Laurie watched
him in case he called for guards, thinking them madmen. Whatever else
the man thought, Kasumi’s manner convinced him he was something
quite different from anything heretofore seen. A messenger was sent,
and in a few minutes an elderly man entered the room.

He simply said, “What is it?”

“Your Grace,” said the
Steward, “I think you had best talk to these men and consider
if His Majesty should see them.”

The man turned to study the two other
men in the office. “I am Duke Caldric, the Royal Chancellor.
What reason do you have to see His Majesty?”

Kasumi said, “I bring a message
from the Emperor of Tsuranuanni.”