The Complete Riftwar Saga Trilogy: Magician, Silverthorn, A Darkness at Sethanon. Raymond E. Feist

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СКАЧАТЬ knack. We do not, however, speak with spirits. There are creatures we know whom humans consider spirits – dryads, sprites, pixies – but they are natural beings who live near our magic.’

      Pug’s interest was piqued. ‘Your magic?’

      ‘Ours is a magic that is part of our being, strongest in Elvandar. It is a heritage ages old, allowing us to live at peace within our forests. There we work as others do, hunting, tending our gardens, celebrating our joys, teaching our young. Time passes slowly in Elvandar, for it is an ageless place. That is why I can remember speaking with Dorcas, for in spite of my youthful appearance, I am over a hundred years old.’

      ‘A hundred . . .’ Pug shook his head. ‘Poor Tomas, he was distressed to hear you were the Queen’s son. Now he will be desolate.’

      Calin inclined his head, a half-smile playing across his face. ‘The lad who was with us in the council hall?’

      Pug nodded. Calin said, ‘It is not the first time my Mother-Queen has had such an effect upon a human, though older men can mask the effect with more ease.’

      ‘You don’t mind?’ asked Pug, feeling protective toward his friend.

      ‘No, Pug, of course not. All in Elvandar love the Queen, and it is acknowledged her beauty is unsurpassed. I find it not surprising your friend is smitten. Since my Father-King passed, more than one bold noble of your race has come to press his suit for Aglaranna’s hand. Now her mourning is at an end, and she may take another should she wish. That it would be one of your race is unlikely, for while a few such marriages have been made, they are very rare, and tend to be sad things at the end for our kind. She will live many more human life spans, the gods willing.’

      Calin looked around the room, then added, ‘It is likely our friend Tomas will outgrow his feelings for the great lady of the elves. Much as your Princess will change her feelings toward you, I would think.’

      Pug felt embarrassed. He had been curious as to what Carline and the Elf Prince had spoken about during dinner, but had been uncomfortable asking. ‘I noticed you spoke with her at great length.’

      ‘I had expected to meet a hero of seven feet in height, with lightning dancing around his shoulders. It seems you slew a score of trolls with a cast of your hand.’

      Pug blushed. ‘It was only two, and mostly by accident.’

      Calin’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Even two is an accomplishment. I had thought the girl guilty of a flight of fancy. I would like to hear the story.’

      Pug told him what had happened. When he was done, Calin said, ‘It is an unusual tale, Pug. I know little of human magic, but I do know enough to think that what you did was as strange as Kulgan said. Elf magic is far different from human, but we understand ours better than you understand your own. Never have I heard of such an occurrence, but I can share this with you. Occasionally, at times of great need, an inner call can be made, bringing forth powers that lay dormant, deep within.’

      Pug said, ‘I have thought as much, though it would be nice to understand a little better what happened.’

      ‘That may come in time.’

      Pug looked at his guest and sighed deeply. ‘I wish I could understand Carline, as well.’

      Calin shrugged and smiled. ‘Who can understand another’s mind? I think for some time to come you will be the object of her attention. Then, it may be, another will distract her, perhaps young Squire Roland. He seems held in thrall by her.’

      Pug snorted. ‘Roland! That . . . bother.’

      Calin smiled appreciatively. ‘Then you are fond of the Princess?’

      Pug looked upward, as if seeking guidance from some higher source. ‘I do like her,’ he admitted with a heavy sigh. ‘But I don’t know if I care for her that special way. Sometimes I think I do –especially when I see Roland fawning over her – but other times I don’t. She makes it very hard for me to think clearly, and I always seem to say the wrong things to her.’

      ‘Unlike Squire Roland,’ prompted Calin.

      Pug nodded. ‘He’s court born and bred. He knows all the right things to say.’ Pug leaned back on his elbows and sighed wistfully. ‘I guess I’m just bothered by him out of envy as much as anything. He makes me feel like an ill-mannered clod with great lumps of stone for hands and tree stumps for feet.’

      Calin nodded understandingly. ‘I don’t count myself an expert in all the ways of your people, Pug, but I’ve spent enough time with humans to know that you choose how you feel; Roland makes you feel clumsy only because you let him.

      ‘I would hazard a guess young Roland might feel much the same way when your positions are reversed. The faults we see in others never seem as dreadful as those we see in ourselves. Roland might envy your direct speech and honest manner.

      ‘In any event, what you or Roland do will have little effect on the Princess so long as she’s determined to have her own way. She has romanticized you in much the same manner your friend has our Queen. Short of you becoming a hopeless boor, she will not be shaken from this attitude until she is ready. I think she has you in mind as her future consort.’

      Pug gaped for a moment, then said, ‘Consort?’

      Calin smiled. ‘The young are often overly concerned with matters to be settled in later years. I suspect her determination in the matter is as much a result of your reluctance as from a true appreciation of your worth. She, like many children, simply wants what she can’t have.’ In a friendly tone he added, ‘Time will decide the issue.’

      Pug leaned forward, a worried expression on his face. ‘Oh, my, I have made a hash of things. Half the keep boys think themselves in love with the Princess. If they only knew how terrifying the real thing can be.’ He closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut a moment. ‘My head aches. I thought she and Roland . . .’

      Calin said, ‘He may be but a tool to provoke your interest. Sadly, that seems to have resulted in bad feelings between you.’

      Pug nodded slowly. ‘I think so. Roland is a good enough sort on the whole; we’ve been friends for the most part. But since I was elevated in rank, he’s been openly hostile. I try to ignore it, but it gets under my skin after a while. Maybe I should try to talk to him.’

      ‘That would prove wise, I think. But don’t be surprised if he is not receptive to your words. He is most certainly caught up in her spell.’

      Pug was getting a headache from the topic, and the mention of spells made him ask, ‘Would you tell me more about elven magic?’

      ‘Our magic is ancient. It is part of what we are and in what we create. Elven boots can make even a human silent when walking, and elven bows are better able to strike the mark, for that is the nature of our magic. It is vested in ourselves, our forests, our creations. It can sometimes be managed, subtly by those who fully understand it . . . Spellweavers, such as Tathar. But this is not easily done, for out magic resists manipulation. It is more like air than anything, always surrounding us, yet unseen. But like air, which can be felt when the wind blows, it has substance. Our forests are called enchanted by men, for so long have we dwelled there, our magic has created the mystery of Elvandar. All who dwell there are at peace. No one may enter Elvandar uninvited, save by mighty arts, and even the distant boundaries of the elven forests cause unease СКАЧАТЬ