Rise of a Merchant Prince (24 page)

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Authors: Raymond E. Feist

BOOK: Rise of a Merchant Prince
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He kept his arms around her waist “I would not do that. I do care, Karli. Let me prove it to you.”

She was silent, studying his face. As seconds passed, she looked deep into his eyes, then at last took his hand in hers and said, “Come with me.”

She led him up the stairs to her room and inside. Then she closed the door behind her. She put her hand upon his chest and pushed him to the foot of her bed, until he sat down upon it. Quickly she undid the fastenings of her gown and let it fall to the floor. Then she undid the shoulder ties of her short chemise and, with a single shake, caused it to fall atop the dress. Nude, she stood before him in the light of the single candle on the nightstand.

Karli's breasts were young and firm, but her waist was thick, as were her hips and thighs. Her face still lacked any quality that any man would call pretty, save her eyes, which were shining in the light.

“This is what I am,” she said, her voice full of emotion. “I'm plain. And fat. And I don't have a rich father anymore. Can you love this?”

Roo found his own eyes filling as he rose and took her into his arms. Swallowing hard, he willed his voice to calmness as he said, “No one has accused me of being any lady's fancy.” A single tear fell down his cheek as he said, “I used to be called ‘rat face' and worse. Looks aren't everything.”

She put her head on his chest and said, “Stay.”

Later, Roo lay staring upward in the dark while Karl slept in his arms. They had made love, awkwardly and with a frantic edge that was more a demand for acceptance than anything freely given. Karli had shown no skills, and Roo had forced himself to be more attentive than he had wished.

At some point he had promised to marry her, and he was vaguely aware that he was now engaged to be married after the mourning period was over. But in the darkness his mind turned once more to his anger and the plans he, Duncan, and Luis had made. For the one thing he had not told Karli was what her father had whispered to him before he died.

It had been a name. “Jacoby.”

10
Plans

Roo held
up his hand.

“There are there things I need to discuss with you,” he said.

Karli had given him permission to use her dining room to hold a meeting with Luis and Duncan. She even managed not to look disappointed when he asked her to leave them alone.

Luis glanced at Duncan, who shrugged, indicating he had no idea what was coming.

“We're here instead of at the warehouse because I wanted to be certain there was no chance of anyone overhearing us.”

“You suspect one of our workmen of something?” asked Luis.

Roo shook his head. “No, but the fewer of us who know what we plan, the less risk we have of our enemies finding out.”

“Enemies?” said Duncan. “Who are we at war with now?”

Roo lowered his voice to just more than a whisper. “There's a piece of walking scum named Tim
Jacoby who had Helmut killed.”

Luis said, “Jacoby?”

Duncan nodded. “Son of a trader named Frederick Jacoby. Jacoby and Sons.”

Luis shook his head. “I've not heard of them.”

Roo said, “Spend a few more months working in Krondor in the freight-hauling trade and you will. They are not our biggest rivals, but they are important” Roo leaned back and obvious frustration showed on his face. “Helmut told me it was the Jacobys who robbed his wagon.”

“Can we go to the City Watch?” said Luis.

“With what?” said Duncan. “We have no proof.”

“We have a dying man's declaration,” said Luis.

Duncan shook his head. “That might do if Roo here was a noble or some such, but without someone important having heard it, a priest or city watchman at the least, it's Roo's word against this Jacoby.”

“And his father is very well connected,” said Roo. “They're working with some of the bigger trading concerns in the Western Realm, and if I said anything to anyone they'd claim it false and say I was just trying to hurt their business.”

Luis shrugged. “It is always this way with the powerful; they can do what the rest of us cannot”

Roo said, “I've half a mind to go pay Tim Jacoby a visit this night.”

Luis shrugged. “You can always do that, young Roo.” He leaned forward, his deformed hand lying on the table before him, as he pointed with his left forefinger at Roo. “But ask yourself: what good would it do save to get you back to the gallows?”

“I've got to do something.”

Luis nodded. “Time will bring an opportunity for
revenge.” He considered. “You said Jacoby and Sons, Duncan. Is there a brother?”

Duncan said, “Yes. Tim's the elder. Randolph, the other, is a decent enough man, from what people say, but he's fiercely loyal to his family.”

Luis said, “In Rodez, when a man wrongs another man, we fight a duel. But when a family wrongs another family, we wage war. It may be a quiet war, one that lasts for generations, but ultimately one family is destroyed.”

Roo said, “I'm going to have to struggle to keep this business alive, Luis. Waging war is costly.”

Luis shrugged. “The war has begun. It may not be stopped until you either win or are defeated, but no one says the next battle must be tonight. Bide your time. Build your strength. Reduce your enemy's position. When you finally have the opportunity, then seize the moment.” He made a crushing gesture with his good hand. “Often you'll hear it said that revenge is a dish best served cold. This is a mistake; you must never lose the heat of rage that drives you to revenge.” He studied Roo's face. “Forgiveness is a virtue in some temples. But if you are not virtuous, then study your enemy.” He tapped his head. “Think. Think about what drives him and what his strengths and weaknesses are. Keep the fires within banked, and plot coolly, but when everything is in place, unleash the fire and enjoy the hot flush of revenge.”

Roo blew air out of his mouth slowly, as if letting his anger escape. “Very well. We wait. But make it known to our men that any rumors concerning Jacoby and Sons should be shared with us.”

“What's the next thing?” asked Duncan. “I've got a lady to visit . . .” He grinned.

Roo smiled. “Helmut kept our books and records. I have some sense of it, but I'm no expert. Can either of you keep books?”

Luis shook his head and Duncan laughed. “I've never been one for sums. You know that.”

“Then we need to hire someone.”

“Who?” asked Duncan.

Roo said, “I don't know. Maybe Jason, over at Barret's. He was good with figures when we worked together; McKeller had him doing inventories more often than anyone else. He could remember things . . . costs and numbers of sacks of coffee and details that I had no clear picture of. I'll ask him. He's ambitious. Maybe he'll work for us.”

“Can we pay him?” Duncan asked with a laugh.

Roo said, “We have the contract with the palace. I'll ask de Loungville to make sure we get paid on time, and we'll get by.”

“What's the third thing?” asked Luis.

Roo's face underwent a change of expression, from anger and worry to self-consciousness. “I'm getting married.”

Luis said, “Congratulations.” He held out his hand and Roo gripped it.

Duncan said, “Karli?”

“Who else?” said Roo.

Duncan shrugged. “When?”

“Next Sixthday. Can you join us?”

“Certainly,” said Duncan, standing up. “If we're done?”

“You can leave,” said Roo, feeling disappointed at his cousin's lack of enthusiasm.

After Duncan left, Luis said, “This is a difficult responsibility to assume, Roo.”

“What do you mean?”

Luis said, “It is not my business. I'm sorry I spoke.”

Roo asked, “What's on your mind?”

Luis said nothing for a moment, then said, “You seem to like the girl. But . . . are you marrying her because you feel someone must take care of her and you're the only one?”

Roo started to deny it, then found he couldn't. “I don't know. I like her, and a wife . . . well, a wife is a wife, right? I need a wife, and some children.”

“Why?”

Roo looked completely confused. “I . . . well, I just do. I mean, I plan on being a man of some importance in the city, and I need a wife and children.”

Luis studied the young man awhile. “As you say. I will return to the office and mention to the men there will be a wedding on Sixthday.”

Roo said, “I'll tell Erik and Jadow tomorrow. Maybe the Captain will come if he's still in the city.”

Luis nodded. As he passed behind Roo's chair, he stopped and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. “I wish you happiness, my friend. I really do.”

“Thank you,” said Roo as Luis left.

A moment later, Karli entered the room. “I heard them leave.”

Roo nodded. “I told them we were getting married on Sixthday.”

Karli sat down in the chair Duncan had occupied. “Are you certain?”

Roo forced a smile. “Of course I am,” he said, patting her hand, but inside he felt like nothing more
than leaving this house and running for all he was worth. “Of course I am,” he repeated.

He glanced out a curtained window as if he could see through the fabric, and in his mind's eye he saw the pale face of Helmut as he lay on his deathbed. His skin was bone-white, the same color as the large bolt of silk Roo had stolen, and in his heart Roo knew that there was a thread leading from that bolt to Helmut and that Karli's father's death lay at his feet. Patting the girl's hand, Roo knew that even if he hated the girl, he would marry her to make up for the wrong he had caused.

Calis pushed himself back from the table, stood up, and moved to a window. Staring out at the marshalling yard below, he said, “I've got a bad feeling about all of this.”

Prince Nicholas sat back in his chair, glanced at his nephew, then to Knight-Marshal William, who nodded agreement. “It's a desperate gamble,” said William.

Patrick, who sat at the head of the council table, said, “Uncle, you've seen this personally. You've traveled to that distant land more than once.” He glanced around the room. “I'm prepared to admit that some of my reluctance comes from not having . . . first-hand experience, I should say, with these Pantathians.”

Nicholas said, “I've seen what they can do, Patrick, and I scarcely believe what we're told.” He waved at a pile of papers on the table before them. Dispatches had arrived by fast courier, as a relay of ships wended their way between Krondor, the Far Coast, the Sunset Islands, and the distant continent
of Novindus. The reports that had arrived the morning before had been sent from Novindus less than a month after Greylock and Luis had departed. And the news was not good.

Duke James, who sat beside Knight-Marshal William, said, “We know that our guesses were overly optimistic. Destroying the shipyards at Maharta and the City of the Serpent River didn't buy us as many years as we thought.”

“Ten years,” said Calis. “I remember thinking it would take them ten years to rebuild and refit and launch a fleet big enough to carry that host across the ocean.”

Patrick said, “What do you judge now, Captain?”

Calis sighed, the first outward display of emotion any in the room had seen from him since his return from Stardock. “Four more, ‘maybe five.”

Nicholas said, “We didn't count on an enemy who was willing to turn every resource at hand to rebuilding those yards and starting that fleet.”

“We didn't count on an enemy who doesn't care if her population dies to the last man,” said William. He pushed himself away from the table and stood, as if he, too, could no longer sit still. “We're preparing to defend, and we're making it obvious enough the Pantathians may think we're done taking the fight across the ocean to them.”

He came to stand next to Calis. “But we have one advantage they are unaware of; they don't know we know where their home is.”

Calis smiled a half-smile, lacking any humor. “I don't think they care.” He moved past William and stood opposite Nicholas, but addressed his remarks to Prince Patrick. “Highness, I am not certain this
mission will win us anything.”

Patrick asked, “You think this wins us nothing?”

William said, “Our presumption is they will not expect this, slipping in behind them and destroying their nest.”

Calis held up a finger, like a schoolmaster, “That's the word:
presumption.
” He turned to look at William. “Everything we have ever seen from these creatures tells us they think like no others. They die as willingly as they kill, if we slaughter them to the last child when they're seizing the Lifestone, they will not care. They believe they will return as demigods in the service of their ‘Lady,' and death holds no fear for them.”

Turning back toward Patrick, he said, “I will go, Patrick. I will go and kill for you and, if I must, die. But even if I get in and get back out, those left alive, will come after us. I think we will never understand these creatures.”

“Do you have a better idea?” asked Nicholas.

William put his hand on Calis's shoulder. “Old friend, our only other choice is to wait. If they come anyway, what have we lost by undertaking this raid?”

Calis's voice was neutral. “Just the lives of more good men.”

William said, “It's what soldiers do, Captain.”

“It doesn't mean I have to like it,” he answered.

Despite the differences in rank, the two men were old friends and William showed no irritation at his friend's tone or lack of deference. In this private council rank was put aside, and everyone had proven his worth to the Crown and his reliability many times before. Despite his youth, barely twenty-five years of age, Patrick had served three years on the northern
border, fighting goblins and dark elves. Calis was roughly the same age as William, though William looked to be in his late fifties while Calis looked barely older than Prince Patrick.

“What if it doesn't work?” asked Calis.

It was James who answered. “Then it doesn't work.”

Calis studied the old man and laughed ruefully. Glancing at his old friend, he said, “I remember when you used to ask questions like that, Nicky.”

Nicholas said, “None of us is as young as he once was, Calis.”

Patrick said, “When will you go?”

Calis said, “We're still months away from being ready. I've got only four men I can count on besides those of us here in this room: De Loungville, Greylock, Erik, and Jadow. All have seen what's down there and know the risks. There are a couple of other veterans from the last two campaigns, but those four are leaders, though Erik and Jadow don't know it yet. But the rest are men who just follow orders. Fine for soldiers, not enough for leaders.”

Patrick said, “How are you going to proceed?”

Calis smiled. “Come at them from behind.” He crossed to a large map on the wall, one redrawn many times over the last twenty years as new information came from the continent on the other side of the world. “We'll sail from the Sunset Islands, as usual, but here”—he pointed to a seemingly empty place on the map four hundred miles south of the long island chain—“is an uncharted bit of land with a lovely harbor. We'll meet there and transfer to another ship.”

“Another ship?” asked Patrick.

Nicholas answered. “By now our enemy has an inventory of every ship in the Western Navy. They can probably identify the outline on the horizon of each one from their rigging. And I have no doubt they know which of our ‘trading ships' are really royal warships in disguise.”

“What have you got down there?” asked Patrick “A new ship?”

“No, a very old one,” said Calis. “We're going to go as Brijaners.”

“Brijaners? Keshian raiders?” said William with a half-smile.

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