Rise of a Merchant Prince. Raymond E. Feist

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СКАЧАТЬ Pi and Nakor, who seemed, of the company, the least worse for wear, exchanged glances, and Nakor said, ‘One of them tried to remove a young woman from your lap, Roo.’

      Roo nodded, then wished he hadn’t. ‘I remember now.’

      Jadow said, ‘I hit someone with a chair …’

      Nakor said, ‘Maybe we killed those Quegans.’

      Erik tried to stay on his feet by leaning against the wall, his knees shaking from his hangover, and said, ‘It would be just the sort of black joke the gods make that after all we have been through, we end up back here waiting for the gallows again.’

      Roo felt vaguely guilty, as he always did when he had drunk too much the night before. He was a slight man, so trying to keep up drink for drink with men the size of Jadow and Erik was foolish, even though Erik didn’t have much of a head for drink. ‘If I killed someone, you’d think I’d remember,’ Roo observed.

      ‘Well, what are we doing back here in the death cell, man?’ asked Jadow from where he sat in the corner, obviously disturbed at their circumstances. ‘I didn’t sail around the world and back again so Bobby de Loungville could finally hang me.’

      As they were attempting to gather their wits, the door to the hall was yanked open, clanging into the wall-hard enough to make every man visibly wince. De Loungville walked into view and shouted, ‘On your feet, you swine!’

      Without thought, everyone except Nakor leaped to his feet, and each man groaned an instant later. Jadow Shati turned his head and vomited into the chamber pot, then spat. The others stood on unsteady feet, Erik having to grip the bars of the cell to keep himself upright.

      With a grin, de Loungville said, ‘What a lovely bunch you are.’

      Nakor asked. ‘What are we doing back here, Sergeant?’

      De Loungville moved to the cell door and pulled it open, showing it hadn’t been locked, and said, ‘We couldn’t think of anywhere else to put you conveniently. Did you know it took the better part of a full watch of the city guard and a squad of the palace guards to arrest you?’ He beamed like a proud father. ‘Quite a brawl. And you had the good sense not to kill anyone, though you did damage quite a few.’

      With a wave, de Loungville indicated they should follow him. ‘Prince Patrick and his uncles felt it was better to keep you lot close by for the rest of the night,’ he said as he led them from the cell.

      Roo glanced around and remembered the last time he had seen these passages, as he was being led to the mock hanging that had set his feet upon a path he never could have imagined before leaving his birthplace. The first journey he had made along here was almost lost on him, so far had his mind retreated into terror then. Now he could barely focus because of the abuses of the night before.

      He and Erik had fled their lifelong home in Ravensburg after killing Erik’s half brother, Stefan, then Baron of Dark-moor. Had they stayed and faced trial, they might have convinced a judge it was self-defense, but their flight counted heavily against them and they had been sentenced to die.

      They reached the steps that led up toward the yard where the gallows stood, but this time they passed them by. De Loungville, the man who had held their lives in his hand from the moment they had fallen to the hard wooden floor of the gallows until they had departed ship the day before, said, ‘You’re a scruffy bunch, so I think we should clean you up a bit before your audience.’

      ‘Audience?’ asked Erik, still showing signs of damage from the night before. One of the strongest men Roo had ever known – uncontestedly the strongest boy in Ravens-burg – Erik had pitched a guardsman through a window just before another broke a wine jar over his head. Roo couldn’t tell if he had taken more damage from the blow or from the large amounts of wine he had been drinking before the fight started; Erik had never been much of a drinker.

      ‘Some important men would like a word with you. It wouldn’t do to have you in court looking as you do. Now,’ he said, pushing open a door, ‘strip off!’

      Hot tubs of soapy water waited and the men did as they were bidden. Two years of following de Loungville’s orders without question had formed a habit too hard to break, and soon the five men were sitting in tubs, letting palace pages sponge them down.

      Pitchers of cold water were provided and the men all drank their fill. Between the very hot bath and the large amounts of cold water he drank, Roo began to feel again that life might be worth living.

      When clean, they discovered their clothing had been removed. De Loungville pointed to two black tunics with a familiar mark upon the breast. Erik picked one up and said, ‘The Crimson Eagle.’

      De Loungville said, ‘Nicholas thought it fitting and Calis didn’t object. It’s the banner of our new army, Erik. You and Jadow are my first two corporals, so put those on.’ To the others he said, ‘There’s some clean clothing over there.’

      Nakor and Sho Pi both looked odd in the clean tunic and trousers instead of the usual robes they affected, but Roo found his own appearance improved dramatically. The tunic might be a little large for his diminutive frame, but it was certainly the finest weave he had ever worn, and the trousers fit perfectly. He was still barefoot, but months at sea had toughened his feet to the point he didn’t think twice about it.

      Erik retained his worn boots, but Jadow, like the others, went barefoot.

      After they dressed, the men followed de Loungville into a familiar hall; here the men of Calis’s desperate company had stood trial before the Prince of Krondor – at the time, Nicholas. The hall hadn’t changed much, Roo thought, but he realized that his mind had been so numb from terror the last time he had been there he had barely noticed his surroundings.

      Ancient banners hung from every ceiling beam, casting the hall into shadow as they cut the light from windows high in the vaulted ceiling. Torches burned in sconces along the wall to provide illumination, for despite the large windows in the far wall, the hall was immense enough the light did not reach far enough. Roo considered he would have the banners removed, were he the Prince.

      Along the walls stood courtiers and pages ready to do the royal bidding at a moment’s notice, and a formally attired Master of Ceremony struck the floor with an iron-shod staff of office, announcing Robert de Loungville, Baron of the Court and Special Agent of the Prince. Roo shook his head slightly in amusement, for de Loungville was the company’s sergeant, and to think of him as a court baron was too alien a task.

      Members of the court watched as the squad came to stand before the throne. Roo calculated as best he could the worth of the gold used to decorate the candle holders along the near wall, and decided the Prince could better use his wealth by replacing them with brass – highly decorative, but far less costly, freeing up wealth to invest in the proper enterprise. Then he wondered if he might be allowed to speak to the Prince on just such a subject.

      Thinking of the Prince returned Roo’s attention to the man who had once pronounced the death sentence upon him. Nicholas, now his nephew’s Admiral of the Western Fleet, stood to one side of the throne beside his successor, Prince Patrick. To the other side stood Calis and the man Roo knew to be James, Duke of Krondor, speaking to the man they had seen on the docks, Patrick’s uncle Prince Erland. And sitting upon the throne was his twin. Roo suddenly flushed when he realized they were being presented to the King!

      ‘Your Majesty, Highnesses,’ said de Loungville with a courtly bow, ‘I СКАЧАТЬ