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

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СКАЧАТЬ Keshian Army back at Deep Taunton, all those years ago. I should not speak of things I have not seen first-hand.’

      Arutha sat passively through all this, but his eyes showed he felt the same anger as his father. He moved forward in his chair, and the dukes looked at him. Borric said, ‘You have something to say, my son?’

      Arutha spread his hands wide before him. ‘In all this the thought has bothered me: should the Tsurani come, how would it profit Guy to see the King hesitate?’

      Borric drummed his fingers on the table. ‘That is the puzzle, for in spite of his scheming, Guy would not peril the Kingdom, not to spite me.’

      ‘Would it not serve him,’ said Arutha, ‘to let the West suffer a little, until the issue was in doubt, then to come at the head of the Armies of the East, the conquering hero, as he was at Deep Taunton?’

      Caldric considered this. ‘Even Guy could not think so little of these aliens, I would hope.’

      Arutha paced the room. ‘But consider what he knows. The ramblings of a dying man. Surmise on the nature of a ship that only Pug, here, has seen, and I caught but a glimpse of as it slid into the sea. Conjecture by a priest and a magician, both callings Guy holds in little regard. Some migrating Dark Brothers. He might discount such news.’

      ‘But it is all there for the seeing,’ protested Borric.

      Caldric watched the young Prince pace the room. ‘Perhaps you are right. What may be lacking is the urgency of your words, an urgency lacking in the dry message of ink and parchment. When he arrives, we must convince him.’

      Borric nearly spat his words. ‘It is for the King to decide, not Guy!’

      Caldric said, ‘But the King has given much weight to Guy’s counsel. If you are to gain command of the Armies of the West, it is Guy who must be convinced.’

      Borric looked shocked. ‘I? I do not want the banner of the armies. I only wish for Erland to be free to aid me, should there be need.’

      Caldric placed both hands upon the table. ‘Borric, for all your wisdom, you are much the rustic noble. Erland cannot lead the armies. He is not well. Even if he could, the King would not allow it. Nor would he give leave for Erland’s Marshal, Dulanic. You have seen Rodric at his best, of late. When the black moods are upon him, he fears for his life. None dare say it, but the King suspects his uncle of plotting for the crown.’

      ‘Ridiculous!’ exclaimed Borric. ‘The crown was Erland’s for the asking thirteen years ago. There was no clear succession. Rodric’s father had not yet named him heir apparent, and Erland’s claim was as clear as the King’s, perhaps more so. Only Guy and those who sought to use the boy pressed Rodric’s claim. Most of the congress would have sustained Erland as King.’

      ‘I know, but times are different, and the boy is a boy no longer. He is now a frightened young man who is sick from fear. Whether it is due to Guy’s and the others’ influence or from some illness of the mind, I do not know. The King does not think as other men do. No king does, and Rodric less than most. Ridiculous as it may seem, he will not give the Armies of the West to his uncle. I am also afraid that once Guy has his ear, he will not give them to you either.’

      Borric opened his mouth to say something, but Kulgan interrupted. ‘Excuse me, Your Graces, but may I suggest something?’

      Caldric looked at Borric, who nodded. Kulgan cleared his throat and said, ‘Would the King give the Armies of the West to Duke Brucal of Yabon?’

      Comprehension slowly dawned on Borric’s and Caldric’s faces, until the Duke of Crydee threw back his head and laughed. Slamming his fist on the table, he nearly shouted, ‘Kulgan! If you had not served me well in all the years I have known you, tonight you have.’ He turned to Caldric. ‘What do you think?’

      Caldric smiled for the first time since entering the room. ‘Brucal? That old war dog? There is no more honest man in the Kingdom. And he is not in the line of succession. He would be beyond even Guy’s attempts to discredit. Should he receive the command of the armies . . .’

      Arutha finished the thought. ‘He would call Father to be his chief adviser. He knows Father is the finest commander in the West.’

      Caldric sat up straight in his chair, excitement on his face. ‘You would even have command of the armies of Yabon.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Arutha, ‘and LaMut, Zun, Ylith, and the rest.’

      Caldric stood. ‘I think it will work. Say nothing to the King tomorrow. I will find the proper time to make the “suggestion.” Pray that His Majesty approves.’

      Caldric took his leave, and Pug could see that for the first time there was hope for a good ending to this journey. Even Arutha, who had fumed like black thunder all week, looked nearly happy.

      Pug was awakened by a pounding on his door. He sleepily called out for whoever was out there to enter, and the door opened. A royal steward peeked in. ‘Sir, the King commands all in the Duke’s party to join him in the throne room. At once.’ He held a lantern for Pug’s convenience.

      Pug said he would come straightaway and hurriedly got dressed. Outside it was still dark, and he felt anxious about what had caused this surprise summons. The hopeful feeling of the night before, after Caldric had left, was replaced by a gnawing worry that the unpredictable King had somehow learned of the plan to circumvent the arrival of the Duke of Bas-Tyra.

      He was still buckling his belt about his tunic when he left his room. He hurried down the hall, with the steward beside him holding a lantern against the dark, as the torches and candles usually lit in the evening had all been extinguished.

      When they reached the throne room, the Duke, Arutha, and Kulgan were arriving, all looking apprehensively toward Rodric, who paced by his throne, still in his night-robes. Duke Caldric stood to one side, a grave expression on his face. The room was dark, save for the lanterns carried by the stewards.

      As soon as they were gathered before the throne, Rodric flew into a rage. ‘Cousin! Do you know what I have here?’ he screamed, holding out a sheaf of parchment.

      Borric said he didn’t. Rodric’s voice lowered only a little. ‘It is a message from Yabon! That old fool Brucal has let those Tsurani aliens attack and destroy one of his garrisons. Look at these!’ he nearly shrieked, throwing the parchments toward Borric. Kulgan picked them up and handed them to the Duke. ‘Never mind,’ said the King, his voice returning to near-normalcy. ‘I’ll tell you what they say.

      ‘These invaders have attacked into the Free Cities, near Walinor. They have attacked into the elven forests. They have attacked Stone Mountain. They have attacked Crydee.’

      Without thinking, Borric said, ‘What news from Crydee?’

      The King stopped his packing. He looked at Borric, and for a moment Pug saw madness in his eyes. He closed them briefly, then opened them, and Pug could see the King was himself again. He shook his head slightly and raised his hand to his temple. ‘I have only secondhand news from Brucal. When those messages left six weeks ago, there had only been one attack at Crydee. Your son Lyam reports the victory was total, driving the aliens deep into the forest.’

      Caldric stepped forward. ‘All reports say the same thing. Heavily armed companies of foot soldiers attacked during the night, before the snows had melted, taking the garrisons by surprise. СКАЧАТЬ