Magician (112 page)

Tomas looked at Pug as the exhausted
magician moved close “Pug?” he said softly. Then he
reached out and embraced his once-lost foster brother. “Pug!”

They stood together quietly, amid the
clamor of armies on the move, both with tears upon their faces.
Kulgan placed his hands upon both men’s shoulders. “Come,
we must return. There is much to speak of, and thank the gods, there
is now ample time to do so.”

The camp was in full celebration. After
more than nine years, the soldiers of the Kingdom knew they would not
have to risk death or injury tomorrow. Songs rang out from around
campfires, and laughter came from all quarters. It mattered little to
most that others lay wounded in tents, tended by the priests, and
that some would not live to see the first day of peace, or taste the
fruits of victory. All the celebrants knew was that they were among
the living, and they reveled in the fact. Later there would be time
for mourning lost comrades. Now they drank in life.

Within Lyam’s tent, things were
more subdued. Kulgan had given a great deal of thought to the day’s
occurrences as they had ridden back. By the time they had reached the
tent, the magician from Crydee had pieced together a rough picture of
what had occurred. He had presented his opinion to those assembled
there, and was now finishing.

“It would seem, then,” said
Kulgan, “that Macros intended for the rift to be closed.
Everything points to the terrible duplicity as having been used for
that purpose.”

Lyam sat with Arutha and Tully by his
side. “I still can’t understand what would possess him to
undertake such grave measures. Today’s conflict cost over two
thousand lives.”

Pug spoke up. “I suspect we may
find the answer to that and other questions when we reach his island.
Until then I don’t think we can begin to guess.”

Lyam sighed. He said to Tomas, “At
least I am convinced that you acted in good faith. I am pleased. It
would have been a hard thing to imagine you responsible for all the
carnage today.”

Tomas held a wine cup, from which he
sipped. “I also am pleased that we have no cause for
contention. But I feel ill-used in this matter.”

“As were we all,” echoed
Harthorn and Dolgan.

Calin said, “It is likely that we
have all played a part in some scheme of the Black One’s.
Perhaps it is as Pug has said, and we shall learn the truth at
Sorcerer’s Isle, but I for one resent this bloody business.”

Lyam looked to where Kasumi sat
stiffly, eyes forward, seemingly oblivious to what was being said
around him. “Kasumi,” Lyam said, “what am I to do
with you and your men?”

Kasumi’s eyes came into focus at
mention of his name. He said, “Your Highness, I know something
of your ways, for Laurie has taught me much. But I am still Tsurani.
In our land the officers would be put to death, and the men enslaved.
I may not advise you in this matter. I do not know what is the usual
method of dealing with war prisoners in your world.”

His tone was flat, without emotion.
Lyam was about to say something, but a signal from Pug silenced him.
There was something the magician wanted to say. “Kasumi?”

“Yes, Great One?” Tomas
looked surprised at the honorific, but said nothing. There had been
time only for the most superficial exchange of histories between the
two boyhood friends as they had returned to the camp.

“What would you have done if you
had not surrendered to the Prince’s custody?”

“We would have fought to the
death, Great One.”

Pug nodded “I understand. Then
you are responsible for preserving the lives of nearly four thousand
of your men? And thousands more Kingdom soldiers?”

Kasumi’s expression softened,
revealing his shame. “I have been among your people, Great One.
I may have forgotten my Tsurani training. I have brought dishonor
upon my house. When the Prince has disposed of my men, I will ask
permission to take my own life, though it may be too much of an honor
for him to grant.”

Brucal and others looked shocked at
this. Lyam showed no expression, but simply said, “You have
earned no dishonor. You would have aided no cause in dying. There
ceased to be one when the rift was destroyed.”

Kasumi said, “It is our way.”

Lyam said, “No longer. This is
now your homeland, for you have no other. What Kulgan and Pug have
said about rifts makes it unlikely you shall ever return to
Tsuranuanni. Here you will remain, and it is my intention to see that
prospect turned to good advantage for us all.”

A faint flicker of hope entered
Kasumi’s eyes. The Heir turned toward Lord Brucal and said, “My
lord Duke of Yabon. How do you judge the Tsurani soldiers?”

The old Duke smiled. “Among the
finest I have ever beheld.” Kasumi showed a little pride at the
remark. “They match the Dark Brotherhood for ferocity and are
of nobler nature, they are as disciplined as Keshian dog-soldiers and
have the stamina of Natalese Rangers. On the whole they are without
question superior soldiers.”

“Would an army of such provide
additional security for our troubled northern borders?”

Brucal smiled. “The LaMutian
garrison was among the hardest hit during the war. They would be a
valuable addition there.”

The Earl of LaMut echoed his Duke’s
comment Lyam turned to Kasumi. “Would you still take your life
if your men could remain freemen and soldiers?”

The Shinzawai son said, “How is
that possible, Your Highness?”

“If you and your men will swear
loyalty to the crown, I will place you under the command of the Earl
of LaMut. You will be both freemen and citizens and will be given the
charge to defend our northern border against the enemies of humanity
who abide in the Northlands.”

Kasumi sat silently, unsure of what to
say. Laurie stepped over to Kasumi and said, “There is no
dishonor.”

Kasumi’s face broke into an
expression of open relief. “I accept, as I am sure my men
will.” He paused, then added, “We came as an honor guard
for the Emperor. From what I have heard said here, we have been used
by this sorcerer as much as anyone. I would not have any more blood
spilled on his account. I thank Your Highness.”

Lord Vandros said, “I think a
Knight-Captaincy would be proper for the leader of nearly four
thousand Do you agree, my lord Duke?” Brucal nodded in
agreement, and Vandros said, “Come, Captain, we should speak
with your new command.”

Kasumi rose, bowed to Lyam, and left
with the Earl of LaMut. Arutha touched his brother on the shoulder.
Lyam turned his head, and the Prince said, “Enough of matters
of state. It is time to celebrate the ending of the war.”

Lyam smiled. “True.” He
turned to Pug. “Magician, run and fetch your lovely wife and
fine son. I would have things that smack of home and family about.”

Tomas looked at Pug “Wife? Son?
What is this?”

Pug laughed. “There is much to
talk about. We can catch up with each other after I bring my family.”

He made his way to his own tent, where
Katala was telling William a story. They both jumped up and ran to
him, for they had not seen him since his return. He had sent a
soldier with the news that he was well but busy with the Prince.

“Katala, Lyam would like you to
join us for dinner.”

William tugged at his father’s
robe. “I want to come too, Papa.”

Pug picked up his son. “You too,
William.”

The celebration within the tent was of
a quieter sort than the one taking place outside. Still, they had
been entertained by Laurie’s ballads and had enjoyed the
exhilaration of knowing that peace had finally come. The food was the
same camp fare as before, but somehow it tasted better. A great deal
of wine had also added to the festive mood.

Lyam sat with a cup of wine in his
hand. Around the tent the others were engaged in quiet conversation.
The Heir was a little drunk, and none grudged him that relief, for he
had endured much in the last month Kulgan, Tully, and Arutha, who
knew him best, understood that Lyam was thinking of his father, who
but for a Tsurani arrow would now be sitting here with them. With the
responsibility of first the war, then the succession thrust upon him,
Lyam had not found time for mourning as his brother had. Now he was
fully feeling the loss.

Tully stood. In a loud voice he said,
“I am tired, Your Highness. Have I your leave to withdraw?”

Lyam smiled at his old teacher. “Of
course. Good night, Tully.”

The others in the tent quickly followed
suit and took leave of the Heir. Outside the pavilion the guests bade
each other good night. Laurie, Kulgan, Meecham, and the dwarves also
left, leaving Pug and his family standing with Calin and Tomas.

The childhood friends had spent the
evening exchanging histories of the last nine years. Each was equally
amazed at the other’s story. Pug had expressed interest in the
Dragon Lords’ magic, as had Kulgan. They expressed an interest
in visiting the Dragon’s Hall someday. Dolgan allowed he would
be willing to guide them should they wish to make the journey.

Now the reawakened friendship glowed
within the two young men, though they understood it was not what it
had once been, for there had been many and great changes in both. As
much as by the dragon armor and the black robe, this point was
dramatized by the presence of William and Katala.

Katala had found the dwarves and elves
fascinating—William had found everything fascinating,
especially the dwarves, and now lay asleep in his mother’s
arms. Of Tomas she didn’t know what to make. He resembled Calin
in many ways, but still looked a great deal like the other men in
camp.

Tomas regarded the sleeping boy. “He
has his mother’s looks, but there is enough devil in him to put
me in mind of another boy I knew.”

Pug smiled at that. “His life
will be far calmer, I hope.”

Arutha left his brother’s tent
and came to join them. He stood beside the two boys who had ridden
with him to the mines of Mac Mordain Cadal so many years ago. “I
should probably not say this, but years ago — when you first
came to visit my father, Calin — two boys were overheard in
conversation while they tussled in a hay wagon.”

Tomas and Pug both looked at the Prince
uncomprehendingly. “You don’t remember, do you?”
Arutha asked “A blond thin-ribbed lad was sitting atop a
shorter boy promising he would someday be a great warrior who would
be welcomed in Elvandar.”

Pug and Tomas both laughed at that. “I
remember,” said Pug.

“And the other promised to become
the greatest magician in the Kingdom.”

Katala said, “Perhaps William
will also grow up to realize his dream.”

Arutha smiled with a wicked light in
his eyes. “Then watch him closely. We had a long chat before he
went to sleep, and he told me he wanted to grow up to be a dwarf.”
All of them laughed, except Katala, who looked at her son for a
moment with worry upon her face, but then she, too, joined in the
merriment.

Arutha and Calin bade the others good
night, and Tomas said, “I, too, will be to bed.”

Pug said, “Will you come to
Rillanon with us?”

“No, I may not I would be with my
lady. But when the child is born, you must guest with us, for there
will be a great celebration.” They promised they would come
Tomas said, “We are for home in the morning. The dwarves will
return to their villages, for there is much work to be done there.
They have been overlong from their families. And with the return of
Tholin’s hammer, there is talk of a moot, to name Dolgan King
in the West.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Though my
old friend will most likely use that hammer on the first dwarf to
openly suggest it in his presence.” Placing his hand upon Pug’s
shoulder, he said, “It is well we both came through this; even
in the depths of my strange madness, I never forgot about you.”

Pug said, “I never forgot you
either, Tomas.”

“When you unravel this mystery on
Sorcerer’s Isle, I trust you will send word?”

Pug said he would. They embraced,
saying good-bye, and Tomas walked away, but stopped and looked back,
a boyish glint in his eyes. “Still, I would love to be there
when you meet Carline again with a wife and son in tow.”

Pug flushed, for he viewed that coming
reunion with mixed feelings. He waved to Tomas as he walked from
sight, then found Katala regarding him with a determined look upon
her face. In even, measured tones she said, “Who is Carline?”

Lyam looked up as Arutha entered the
command tent. The younger brother said, “I thought you would
have retired by now. You’re exhausted.”

“I wanted some time to think,
Arutha. I have had little time alone and wanted to put things in
order.” His voice was tired and troubled.

Arutha sat next to his brother “What
sort of things?”

“This war, Father, you, I”—he
thought of Martin— “other things . . . Arutha, I don’t
know if I can be King.”

Arutha raised his eyebrows a little.
“It is not as if you had a choice, Lyam. You will be King, so
make the best of it.”

“I could refuse the crown in
favor of my brother,” said Lyam slowly, “as Erland
renounced it in favor of Rodric.”

“And what a fine kettle of soup
that became. Should you want a civil war, that would be one way to
get it. The Kingdom cannot afford a debate in the Congress of Lords.
There are still too many wounds to be healed between East and West.
And du Bas-Tyra is still at large.”

Lyam sighed. “You would make a
better king, Arutha.”

Arutha laughed. “Me? I am little
pleased at the prospect of being Prince of Krondor Look, Lyam, when
we were boys, I envied you the affection you gained so quickly People
always preferred you to me. As I grew older, I understood it wasn’t
that I was disliked; it was simply there was something about you that
brings out trust and love in people. That is a good quality for a
king to possess. I never envied the fact you would follow Father as
Duke, nor do I now envy your crown. I once thought I might take some
time after the war to travel, but now that will not be possible, for
I must rule Krondor. So do not wish this additional burden of the
entire Kingdom upon me. I would not take it.”