Krondor: Tear of the Gods. Raymond E. Feist

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      Glancing around, James said, ‘A pleasure to meet you, Jazhara. Where is your entourage?’

      ‘At my father’s estates on the edge of the Jal-Pur desert. I had no servants at Stardock and requested none to travel here. I find that the use of servants tends to weaken the will. Since I began studying the mystic arts, I have always travelled alone.’

      James found the availability of servants one of the key attractions of the Prince’s court; always having someone around to send on errands or fetch things was very useful. He was also now embarrassed to discover he should have ordered a squad of soldiers to escort Jazhara and himself back to the palace; her rank required such, but he had assumed she’d have her own bodyguards in place. Still, if she didn’t bring it up, neither would he. He merely said, ‘I quite understand. If you are willing, however, we can leave your baggage under the watch of the guards, and I will arrange to have it brought to the palace in the morning.’

      ‘That will be fine. Shall we go?’

      He decided to avoid shortcuts and keep to the broader thoroughfares. It would take a bit longer to reach the palace, but would afford them safer travel. He suspected that in addition to knowing how to use that staff to good effect, Jazhara probably had several nasty magician’s tricks at her disposal, but the risk of an international incident to save a few minutes’ walk wasn’t worth it.

      Deciding that being direct was his best course, James asked, ‘What does your great-uncle think of this appointment?’

      Jazhara smiled. ‘I do not know, but I suspect he is less than happy. Since he was already unhappy that I chose to study at Stardock – over my father’s objections – rather than marry a “suitable young lord,” I fear I’ve likely put him in a dark mood.’

      James smiled. ‘Having met your great-uncle on a few occasions, I should think you’d want to stay on his good side.’

      With a slight twist of her lips, Jazhara said, ‘To the world he is the mighty Lord Hazara-Khan, a man to be dreaded by those who put their own interests ahead of the Empire’s. To me he is Uncle Rachman – “Raka” I called him because I couldn’t manage his name when I was little – and he can deny me little. He wanted to marry me off to a minor prince of the Imperial House, a distant cousin to the Empress, but when I threatened to run away if he sent me south, he relented.’

      James chuckled. They rounded a corner and headed down a large boulevard that would eventually lead them back to the palace.

      After only a few minutes, James found himself enjoying the company of this young woman from Kesh. She was quick, observant, keen-eyed, and witty. Her banter was clever and entertaining without the acerbic, nasty edge one found so often among the nobles of the Prince’s court.

      Unfortunately, she was too entertaining: James suddenly realized he had turned a corner a few streets back without thinking and now they were in the area he had planned on avoiding.

      ‘What is it?’ Jazhara asked.

      James turned and grinned at her, a grin that could barely be seen in the faint glow of a distant lantern hanging outside an inn. ‘You’re very perceptive, milady.’

      ‘It’s part of the trade, sir,’ she replied, her voice a mix of playfulness and caution. ‘Is something wrong?’

      ‘I just got caught up in our discourse and without thought turned us into a part of the city it might be best to avoid at this hour.’

      James noticed a very slight shift in the way she held her staff, but her voice remained calm. ‘Are we in danger?’

      ‘Most probably not, but one never knows in Krondor. Best to be alert. We shall be at the palace in a few minutes.’

      Without comment, they both picked up the pace slightly, and hurried along, each watching the side of the street for possible assailants in the gloom, James taking the left, Jazhara the right.

      They had rounded the corner that put them in sight of the palace district when a sound echoed off to James’s left. He turned and as he did so he recognized the trap: a pebble being tossed from the right.

      As he turned back towards Jazhara, a small figure darted from the shadows. Jazhara had also spun to look in the same direction as James and was slow to recover.

      The assailant darted close, a blade flashed, and suddenly a child was running down the street clutching Jazhara’s purse.

      James had been prepared for an attack, so it took an instant for him to realize that a street urchin had robbed Jazhara. ‘Hey! Stop! Come back here!’ he shouted after the fleeing child.

      ‘We have to stop him,’ said Jazhara. ‘Besides a few coins, my purse has items which could prove fatal to a child.’

      James didn’t hesitate.

      He knew the city as well as any man, and after a moment’s pursuit, he slowed. ‘What is it?’ asked Jazhara.

      ‘If memory serves, he just ducked into a dead end.’

      They turned into the alley after the cutpurse and saw no sign of him.

      ‘He’s gone!’ Jazhara exclaimed.

      James laughed. ‘Not quite.’

      He moved to what looked to be some heavy crates, and reached around behind them, pulling away a piece of cloth tacked to the back. With a quick motion, in case the young thief was inclined to use the blade to defend himself, James snatched a thin arm.

      ‘Let me go!’ shouted a young girl who looked no older than ten, dressed in rags. She dropped her blade and Jazhara’s purse on the cobbles.

      James knew it was a ruse to get him to release her arm and pick up the purse, so he held firm. ‘If you’re going to be a thief, you must learn who to mark and who to leave be.’

      He turned to block her path if she tried to run and held her arm loosely. Kneeling so that he was at eye level with her, he asked, ‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’

      Quickly sensing that this man and woman weren’t trying to harm her, the girl relaxed slightly. ‘Nita,’ she said with a tiny hint of defiance. ‘Mommy called me that after Prince ’Rutha’s wife, ’Nita.’

      James couldn’t help but smile. He knew Princess Anita would be flattered to hear of that tiny honour. ‘I’m Squire James, and this is Jazhara, the court mage.’

      The girl seemed less than reassured at being confronted by two members of the court. ‘Are you going to take me to jail?’

      ‘James,’ said Jazhara, ‘you’re not going to put this child in jail, are you?’

      With mock seriousness, James said, ‘By rights I should. A dangerous criminal like this preying on innocent people at night!’

      The child’s eyes widened slightly, but she stood unafraid and didn’t flinch. James softened his tone. ‘No, child. We’ll not put you in jail. There’s a place we could take you, if you like. It’s called the Sign of the Yellow Shield. They take care of children like you.’

      The reaction was instantaneous. ‘No! No! You’re СКАЧАТЬ