The Complete Krondor’s Sons 2-Book Collection: Prince of the Blood, The King’s Buccaneer. Raymond E. Feist

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СКАЧАТЬ himself up beside the boy, he paused a second to gulp his breath back into his lungs, then motioned. Suli set off in a crouched-over, silent walk, along the beam that ran the length of the roof. Borric followed, though his bulk forced him to move on hands and knees, crawling behind the slight boy.

      Over the gambling guards they moved, then into the gloom. At the far end of the compound, they dropped to the top of the last pen, then leaped to the outside wall. Half-falling, half-jumping, they hit the ground and were off in the night, running as if the entire garrison of Durbin was on their heels, heading straight for the home of the city’s Governor.

      Borric’s plan had worked as he had thought it would. In the busy house of the Governor of Durbin, there was much confusion and many people moving. A nameless pair of slaves crossing the courtyard to the kitchen elicited no comment.

      Within ten minutes, the alarm had been raised, and many of the city’s watchmen were in the streets, crying that a slave had escaped. By then, Borric and Suli had found a nice attic in the guest wing of the house, vacant and, from the amount of dust on the floor, unused for years.

      Suli whispered, ‘You are certainly a magician, my lord. If not of the sort they thought, of a different kind. No one will think to search the Governor’s home.’

      Borric nodded. He held up his finger to indicate silence, then lay back as if to sleep.

      The excited boy could hardly believe his eyes when the young man fell into a fitful doze. Suli was too tense and excited – and afraid – to try to sleep. He glanced through the small roof window they had used to enter the attic, one which gave them a clear view of part of the Governor’s courtyard and some of the other wing of the house.

      After watching the occasional comings and goings of the household, the beggar turned to inspect the rest of the attic. He could stand easily enough, though Borric would have to stoop. He walked carefully upon the beams of the room, lest any who might happen to be beneath the attic hear movement.

      At the far end of the attic, he found a trapdoor. Putting his ear against it, the boy heard nothing. He waited a long time, or at least what he felt was a long time, before prying the door up slightly. The room below was empty and dark. The boy moved the trap carefully, attempting not to cause dust to fall in the room below, and stuck his head through the trap.

      He almost cried out as he turned to see a face inches from his own. Then his night vision adjusted and he saw he was nose to nose with a statue, the sort imported from Queg, life-size and carved from marble or some other stone.

      The boy put his hand upon the stone head and lowered himself into the room. He glanced around and was satisfied the room was being used for storage. In a corner, under some bolts of cloth, he found a dull kitchen knife. A poor weapon was better than none, he thought, and he stuck the knife in his robe.

      Moving as quietly as possible, the boy inspected the only door in the room. He tested it and found it unlocked. Opening it slowly, he peered through a tiny crack, into an empty, dark hall.

      He moved cautiously into the hall and slowly walked to where the hall met with another, also dark, After listening, Suli was certain no one was using this wing of the Governor’s large home. He scurried along, checking in rooms randomly, and found that all were deserted. Many were empty, and a few had furnishings covered with canvas tarps.

      Scratching his arm, the boy glanced around. Nothing suggested itself to him as likely plunder, so he determined to return to the attic, to see if he could get some rest.

      Then, at the far end of the hall he was leaving, he noticed a faint line of light. At the same instant, the silence was broken by the distant sound of an angry voice.

      Caution and curiosity fought. Curiosity won. The boy stole down the hall, to find a door through which muffled voices could be heard. Putting his ear to the wood, the boy heard a man shouting. ‘… Fools! If we had known ahead of time, we could have been prepared.’

      A second, calmer voice answered. ‘It was chance. No one knew what that idiot Reese meant when he brought word from Lafe that a princely caravan with few guards was ripe for the taking.’

      ‘Not “princely”,’ said the first voice, anger barely contained. ‘“Princes’ caravan.” That’s what he meant.’

      ‘And the prisoner who escaped tonight was the Prince?’

      ‘Borric. Or the Goddess of Luck is having more sport with us than I care to imagine. He was the only red-headed slave we took.’

      The calmer voice said, ‘Lord Fire will be displeased that he lives. With Borric thought dead, our master’s mission is completed, but should a living prince of the Isles make his way home …’

      The angry voice said, ‘Then you must ensure that he does not, and for good measure, that his brother dies, as well.’

      Suli attempted to peek through the crack of the door and saw nothing, then he looked through the keyhole. He could only see a man’s back and part of a man’s hand resting upon a desk. Then the man at the desk leaned forward, and Suli recognized the face of the Governor of Durbin. His was the angry voice. ‘No one outside this room can know the escaped slave is Prince Borric. He must not be allowed to identify himself to anyone. Circulate the rumour he killed a guard while escaping, and order that the slave be killed the instant he is caught.’

      The man with the calm voice moved, blocking Suli’s view. The beggar stood back, fearing the door was about to be opened, but the voice said, ‘The slavers will not like a kill-on-sight order. They will want a public execution, preferably death by exposure in the cage, to warn others against attempting to escape.’

      The Governor said, ‘I will placate the guild. But the fugitive must not be allowed to speak. Should any discover we had a hand in this—’ He left the thought unfinished. ‘I want Lafe and Reese silenced, as well.’

      Suli moved away from the door. Borric, he thought to himself. Then his new master was … Prince Borric, of the House of conDoin, son of the Prince of Krondor!

      Never before had the boy known fear as he knew this minute. This was a game of dragons and tigers and he had stumbled into the middle of it. Tears ran down his face as he hurried to the attic, barely keeping his wits about him enough to close the door silently when he passed through into the storage room.

      Using the Quegan statue, he boosted himself back into the attic and carefully put the trap back. He then scampered to where the dozing Prince lay. Softly, he whispered in his ear, ‘Borric?’

      The young man was instantly awake, and said, ‘What?’

      With tears running down his face, Suli whispered, ‘Oh, my magnificent lord. Have mercy. They know who you are and they are searching for you in force. They seek to kill you before others discover your identity.’

      Borric blinked and gripped the boy by the shoulders. ‘Who knows about me?’

      ‘The Governor and another. I could not see who. This wing connects to where the Governor holds counsel with others. They speak of the slave with red hair who escaped this night, and they speak of the Prince of the Isles. You are both.’

      Borric swore softly. ‘This changes nothing.’

      ‘It changes everything, gentle master,’ cried the boy. ‘They will not stop searching for you after a day, but will hunt you down for as long as they must. And they will kill me СКАЧАТЬ