Читать книгу The Complete Darkwar Trilogy: Flight of the Night Hawks, Into a Dark Realm, Wrath of a Mad God - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 18

ZANE’S FACE WAS FLUSHED WITH ANGER.

‘I won’t do it!’ he said, defiance reverberating in his voice.

Tad said, ‘You have to. If you don’t, you’ll get into more trouble than you can imagine.’

‘It’s stupid,’ Zane insisted. ‘If I haven’t learnt by now, I never will.’

‘You’ve lived on the shore of a lake for your entire life and you’ve never learnt to swim,’ said Tad, his voice rising in frustration. ‘That’s stupid!’ he shouted. ‘Now, Nakor says you have to learn how to swim.’

The boys were standing near a tree at the edge of the courtyard lake. Other students were splashing in the shallows, and a few were swimming in the deeper water. Tad had always been a decent swimmer, but Zane had never learned. It took this recalcitrance to remind Tad that he had never seen his foster brother swim.

Just then the six sisters of the Pithirendar came over the hill, speaking softly in their alien language. Both boys had become accustomed to the strange nature of many of those residing on what they now knew to be Sorcerer’s Island. While the inhabitants included a number of very strange aliens, the majority were human, including a few human girls with whom the boys had become friendly. But for some reason the six sisters caused a reaction in most of the young males on the island, Tad and Zane being no exception.

Four of the girls were nude – as was their preference – while the other two wore simple white shifts, which they discarded when they reached the shore. The six of them slipped effortlessly into the water, as Tad said, ‘All right, then. Stay here if you want, but I’m going swimming!’

Zane was on his feet saying, ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to learn.’ He hurried after his foster brother and splashed into the water.

Nakor and Caleb watched them from a short distance away. Caleb asked, ‘How are they doing?’

Nakor shrugged. ‘They’re good lads, but if it hadn’t been for your unfortunate accident with the bandits, they never would have come here. They possess no special abilities, gifts, or talents that we can see.’

‘Except they are good lads,’ said Caleb.

‘We have good lads in abundance,’ said Nakor. ‘What we need are some ruthless bastards who will happily cut the heart out of their own mothers if need be.’ He started walking away from the lake shore as the boys splashed and were splashed in return by the Pithirendari girls. Caleb fell into step beside him. They began the long trek from the lakeshore to the villa.

Caleb’s wounds had almost healed completely and he was now moving around with the only the minimum of discomfort. ‘You know, if my father wasn’t who he is, I would also be merely a ‘good lad’.

‘You have a great deal of special ability,’ said Nakor.

‘Such as?’

‘You’re a remarkable hunter, have uncommon tracking and woodcraft abilities, close to those of the elves.’

‘As would any youngster with a little talent who had been sent to live with the elves, Nakor.’ He looked around the island and said, ‘Do you see many skilled hunters here?’

Nakor remained silent.

‘We both know that one of the reasons I was sent to stay with Tomas in Elvandar was my unhappiness here. Father thought a change would do me good, and he was right. There’s a difference between being the only human boy among elves and being treated with respect, to being the only youngster without magical abilities among magic users and being treated with contempt.’

‘Contempt is too harsh a word, Caleb.’

Caleb looked at Nakor. ‘You weren’t always there, nor was Father. Mother saw, and she tried to shield me, as did Magnus, but children can be cruel, Nakor. You want your heartless bastards, get them when they are children and don’t let them learn compassion.’

‘You sound bitter,’ said Nakor as they approached the cookhouse.

‘Do I?’ Caleb shrugged. ‘I don’t feel bitter, but I guess some wounds, even childish wounds, never heal. They just grow faint.’

‘What is truly troubling you, Caleb?’

They passed the cookhouse and continued on to the main building of Villa Beata. ‘I feel useless, and in the wrong place.’ Caleb stopped as they reached the open doorway into the connecting hall. ‘I’m a messenger for the most part, carrying missives that aren’t important enough for Magnus or yourself or any magic-user transport.

‘I know that I can blend in where Magnus can’t, but other than that, what use am I?’

Nakor began to say something, but Caleb held up his hand. His brown eyes were set in a serious expression and his voice held a tinge of anger. ‘Do you think if Tal Hawkins or Kaspar of Olasko had been in that wagon they’d have borne a scratch after dispatching those bandits?’

Nakor remained silent.

‘I’m an adequate swordsman, Nakor. Better than average, but not remarkable. I am a good hunter – perhaps even a great one – but how useful is that in dealing with our enemies? So, I can scout. So can a lot of other men.

‘My point is, there is nothing special for me to do, nothing that lets me pull my own weight.’

Nakor shook his head and put his hand on Caleb’s shoulder ‘My young friend, how wrong you are. The day will come when you will understand your true potential, Caleb, and finally realize just how special you are. Until then, if you want to feel sorry for yourself, feel free. I just don’t have time to stand around and listen.’ With that, he turned and walked off.

Caleb stood for a minute locked in inner conflict. Then, he started to chuckle, and that became a full-blown laugh. Talking to Nakor always lifted his dark moods. Caleb decided to return to his quarters to rest and give some thought to what he was going to do with Tad and Zane.

Zane lay on the shore, coughing and trying hard not to look ridiculous. Tad helped him to sit up and said, ‘If you’re going to wade out over your head, you should at least learn how to paddle.’

Zane spat water and coughed some more. Then he said, ‘I got distracted.’

‘He is all right?’ asked one of the sisters from behind Tad. The six of them were gathered as were other students, all looking on with a mixture of concern and amusement.

‘He’ll live,’ said Tad, pulling his friend to his feet. The sisters whispered and giggled, then fled back to the water. ‘What were you trying to do?’ asked Tad.

Zane spoke while his eyes followed the retreating backs of the sisters. ‘One of them … Zadrina, I think, pulled me out and kissed me.’

‘I can’t tell them apart,’ said Tad. ‘And they’ll all kiss you if you let them.’

‘But this was a kiss! She really kissed me.’

‘And then you opened your eyes and discovered you were under water?’

Nodding his head, Zane echoed, ‘I opened my eyes and discovered I was under water.’

‘Which is when the drowning started.’

‘Which is when the drowning started,’ agreed Zane.

‘I am going to have to teach you to swim.’

‘Soon,’ said Zane, watching the girls splashing with some of the other boys. ‘But not today. I drank enough of the lake so I may never be thirsty again.’

‘Well, let’s head back.’ Tad looked in the direction of the villa. ‘Caleb and Nakor were talking just before we went swimming. I wonder if they’ve decided what to do with us?’

‘Well,’ said Zane. ‘Whatever they decide I hope they wait until tomorrow, because I’m supposed to meet Zadrina after evening meal in the pool garden.’

Slapping his foster brother on the shoulder, he said, ‘Just don’t drown yourself.’

‘I won’t.’ As they walked towards the villa, Zane said, ‘Do you know they come from a world that’s mostly water? That’s why they’re in it most of the day.’

‘I’m still having trouble imagining another world,’ conceded Tad.

‘Worlds,’ said Zane. ‘I would too, but everyone here takes it as a matter of course, so I’m getting used to the idea.’ He looked around as they walked. ‘When we were boys, it was easy to think of Kesh and the Kingdom, because people from both nations passed through the town all the time, but other nations were hard for me to imagine. This is like that, I think, only more so.’ He glanced at Tad. ‘If that makes sense?’

Tad nodded he understood.

They hadn’t quite reached the main building when a slender man wearing a pair of tights and a billowing shirt appeared from out of a doorway and said, ‘Ah! There you are. You are the two boys from Stardock?’ He didn’t wait for an answer but motioned them to follow. He moved like a dancer or acrobat, fluidly and with an economy of motion, and on his feet were ankle-high boots of odd design, cross-gartered at the top and tied above the anklebone, but with soft soles of what looked to be doubly reinforced leather. His hair was the palest blond, and flowed to his shoulders.

They went to the side of the village opposite the small lake, and he looked over his shoulder, once, regarded them for a moment with pale blue eyes, then said, ‘Don’t fall behind.’

The boys found themselves climbing a path up a ridge, and by the time they reached the crest, they were almost breathless. The man who led them didn’t pause, simply saying, ‘No time to rest now, boys.’

Tad and Zane as one took a deep breath and followed after, heading down a steep path that led to the seashore. Off to the left they could see a black edifice rising from a promontory. ‘What’s that?’ wondered Zane.

‘The castle of the Black Sorcerer,’ answered the man.

‘Who’s the Black Sorcerer?’ asked Tad.

The man looked over his shoulder, grinning. His face looked young, perhaps only a few years older than the boys, but his blond hair was shot through with grey. ‘Pug’s the Black Sorcerer when he’s here. If he’s not, then sometimes Nakor, or Magnus, or Miranda, or someone else. It’s whoever’s handy.’

Tad said, ‘I don’t understand,’ and he stopped, to catch his breath. ‘Can you wait a minute?’

The man stopped and said, ‘Winded? At your age?’

Zane also stopped. ‘That was a long climb.’

‘That was nothing,’ said the man. ‘Wait until I get done with you; you’ll be running up and down those paths without thought.’

‘The Black Sorcerer,’ said Tad between breaths, pointing at the castle.

‘Well, you boys know about the Black Sorcerer, of course …’

‘No,’ interrupted Zane. ‘We don’t. That’s why we’re asking.’

‘I thought everyone on the Bitter Sea knew about the Black Sorcerer,’ said the man.

‘We’re not from the Bitter Sea,’ said Tad. ‘We’re from Stardock.’

‘Ah,’ said the man, nodding as if he understood. ‘Stardock.’ He turned. ‘Come along; rest is over.’

The boys took deep breaths and hurried after the rapidly walking man. ‘There used to be a man who lived up there,’ he said, ‘by name Macros. He started the legend of the Black Sorcerer so people would leave him alone. He left this island to Pug, who continues the legend, so that ships are not likely to put in here. It keeps things relatively quiet.’

As they headed down towards the beach, they came to a path leading from the castle that intercepted their own. ‘If you go that way,’ said the man, ‘you’ll go straight to the castle. It’s empty. It’s a pretty drab and uninviting place, though we brighten up the windows with some interesting lights if we think someone’s spying on us.’ He looked back grinning. ‘Good show.’ Turning his attention downhill, he said, ‘Now, here’s what I want you two to do,’ as they reached the sand. He pointed to a distant point on the beach where large rocks hid the curving shoreline. ‘Run that way, very fast. Go to that rock. Then run back here.’

Tad could barely stand. ‘Who are you?’

The man put his hands on his hips. ‘Tilenbrook, Farsez Tilenbrook. I am to be your tutor in all things physical for a while. You two have grown lazy and are unfit for the rigours you may face as Caleb’s apprentices.’

The boys exchanged glances. ‘We’re to be his apprentices?’ asked Zane.

‘Perhaps you are. Now run!’

The boys set off at a slow run, still fatigued by the hike over the ridge. Farsez stood patiently waiting as they half-ran, half-stumbled down to the distant rock, then turned and started running back. When they reached his position, both boys fell to their knees on the sand, Zane then half-rolling, falling onto his back as they panted for breath. ‘My,’ said Tilenbrook, ‘you two are in the most deplorable condition for boys. Comes from lazing about all day with nothing to do, I wager.

‘Now, get up!’

The boys staggered to their feet. ‘A quick march back to the villa!’

He set off at a brisk pace, not looking backward, and the boys groaned as they moved after him.

Nearly an hour later two very tired boys, drenched with perspiration, stumbled down the hill to the village, where sat Tilenbrook waiting on the low stone garden wall, a large mug of something in his hand. He sipped at it as they came to stand before him. He glanced at the angle of the sun and said, ‘Very well. We are done for today. We shall do this again tomorrow, and every day after until I think you’ve achieved a speed to and from the rock that I deem appropriate.’

Tad and Zane looked at one another, then Zane closed his eyes as he leaned forward, hands above his knees. Tad tried to ease his aching body by just walking in circles.

As Tilenbrook dismounted the wall, he said, ‘I will see you two as soon as you’ve finished your morning meal, right here.’ He then left without another word.

Zane looked over at Tad and said, ‘I think I’ll just kill myself now.’

Tad nodded and started slowly walking back towards their room. When they reached their room, Tad made a show of sniffing and said, ‘If you’re meeting one of the sisters after the meal, I suggest you bathe.’

Zane groaned. ‘I forgot.’ He stood while Tad threw himself across his bed. ‘Let’s go to the lake, now.’

‘What about supper?’

‘Are you hungry?’

‘Not really,’ said Tad.

‘Good. Then teach me to swim and let me wash the stink off.’

With an audible protest, Tad forced himself upwards and said, ‘Get clean clothes, at least.’

Both boys did and headed out the door of the room, Tad saying, ‘Grab a bar of soap at the bathhouse.’

They reached the bathhouse and found it empty as they expected this close to the evening meal. It was a three-chambered structure with a room of very hot, warm, and cold water. There was some ritual of bathing Nakor had explained to them, but both boys just washed off in a bucket and then soaked in the hot tub when they cleaned themselves off.

Looking at one another, Zane said, ‘The lake can wait until tomorrow.’

They quickly stripped off their clothing, filled buckets with warm water, and washed off the grime of the day. When done, they both stepped into the hot water and with audible sighs of relief let the heat sink into their tired muscles. The water was kept hot, as the centre room – the tepidarium – was kept warm by running water pipes through the kitchen, where fires burned day and night as cooking was a constant undertaking for the population of Sorcerer’s Isle.

Within minutes both boys dozed off.

Abruptly Zane came awake to see a beautiful face inches from his own. Eyes that looked white in the distance, but this close revealed pale green flecks, set in a darker green face lit up with delight as an exotic voice whispered, ‘There you are. I was looking for you.’

Zane ran his hand over his face and said, ‘I must have fallen asleep.’ His eyes widened as the girl’s hand ran down his chest and stomach and she leaned in to kiss him.

Over her shoulder he could see one of her sisters – he had no idea which one – and saw she was likewise giving Tad what could only be called loving attention. Closing his eyes as he started enjoying sensations that were new and wonderful to him, he silently thought, I hope this is Zadrina and not one of her sisters.

For weeks their training followed no pattern that was clear to them, save it often seemed arbitrary, pointless, and exhausting. After two weeks of making the daily run to the rock and finally doing it without slowing the entire way, Tilenbrook sent them back a second time, and then demanded they run up the ridge and back to the villa.

Zane was forced to admit it was getting easier to do and also found he was sleeping better at night. Tad complained he had to find someone to take in the waist of his trousers.

The only happy aspect of their lives were the sisters – Zane with Zadrina and Tad with the one named Kalinda. After the night in the bathhouse, Tad now claimed he had no trouble telling them apart.

Still most of their day was taken up with running, and while they were getting better at it, they saw little purpose to the constant exercise.

Three weeks after the daily running began, they were returning from a run that had to be more than five miles each way, to an outcropping of rocks Tilenbrook had described to them, and found their instructor waiting for them, along with another man. As the now only slightly out-of-breath youths slowed and walked the last few yards, Tilenbrook opened a bundle and threw two swords to them. ‘Defend yourselves!’ he shouted.

Tad grabbed his sword out of the air but Zane missed his. The second man came at him like an on-rushing bull, holding a wicked looking curved sword. Before he could react, Tad was knocked over by the man’s shoulder, while Zane was slapped across the side of the head with the flat of the blade, a blow that sent him to his knees.

‘Your enemy will not care if you are tired,’ said the bearded man as he grabbed Zane by the tunic, jerked him upright, and put his sword to his throat. With a flick of his wrist, he slapped Tad on the shoulder, hard, with the blade’s flat, and said, ‘You both are now dead.’

Tilenbrook said, ‘This is Bolden. He will be your instructor for a while. My work is done now that you two are no longer a pair of slugs.’

‘Get to your feet!’

The boys did so as Tilenbrook walked back towards the path to the village. ‘Do you know what separates the living and the dead most times in battle?’ asked Bolden.

Zane put a hand to the side of his head, where his sore ear was still ringing from the blow. ‘No,’ he said, rubbing his cheek.

‘Purpose,’ said the heavy-shouldered man. His dark eyes regarded the boys. ‘A warrior is little more than a man with a sword and a purpose. And no hesitation. You both are dead because you hesitated. If I had attacked two experienced warriors, I would now be the one with the sore head – or I’d be dead.’

He motioned to the two swords that lay on the sand. ‘Pick them up.’

They did and suddenly he was attacking again. Once more they were quickly disarmed. ‘You are both dead, again!’

He motioned for the boys to once again pick up their weapons and said, ‘Do you know why a few armed men can control much larger groups?’

Tad said, ‘Purpose?’

Bolden nodded. ‘The frightened man runs, tries to hide, or just surrenders. Most men are frightened.’ He motioned for them to follow as he turned and started walking back to the village. ‘Other men attempt to reason and are dead before they can make their argument. A half-dozen bandits can destroy a village of two score people, or more, because they have purpose and the villagers are frightened or try to reason.

‘If the villagers had purpose, if they acted without thought, the six bandits would be dead men.’

Reaching the base of the trail up the ridge, he said, ‘Hold your sword and keep it with you, no matter what else. If I see either one of you anywhere in the village without that sword, I will beat you. Understood?’

‘Yes,’ said the boys.

They walked back to the village in silence.

Bolden, a man of his word, had thrashed Zane once and Tad twice in the following weeks. The last had been the most humiliating, as he had been found swimming in the lake with Kalinda, the sword lying on the shore next to their clothing.

The weapons study proved difficult, due more to Bolden’s demands on how they act and think than on any physical requirements. Any hesitation, any lack of certainty in responding to his orders brought punishment, from sitting alone all night on a rock overlooking the sea, to being beaten with a stick.

And for days on end they saw nothing of Caleb.

The other tasks set to them seemed a little more reasonable, but not much. Both boys learned to handle the bow with some skill and were taught the rudiments of tracking game and recognizing signs in the woods, learning from a man named Lear. They used their prior experience to good effect helping with the gardening, farming crops on the far side of the island, and tending to the animals.

But some of the things they did made no sense to them. When they helped in the kitchen, they were forced to endure long lectures on how dishes were prepared, and when they were given household duty, they were expected to master every aspect of tasks from bed making to cleaning out bedpans. Both boys thought of these things as ‘woman’s work’ and grumbled, until Zane said something to one of the girl students, a fetching redhead named Brunella, who promptly smacked him across the back of the head and walked off.

Today the boys were wondering aloud what gods they had offended lately, as they hauled stones up the path from the beach to a place designated by a dour man named Nasur. He was squat, had powerful shoulders, and a mass of thick, black hair and a beard to match. He had appeared that morning after the first meal and informed them he would be overseeing their training for a while.

He had taken them over the ridge and pointed to a crumbling rock wall that flanked the path leading to the castle, then to where piles of them rested at the bottom of the hill. ‘They’ve been washing down the slope for years and Pug thinks we ought to dress up the wall. So be a couple of good lads and hie yourselves down there and fetch the stones back up here. Find a way to place them back so the thing doesn’t fall down again come the next rain. Any idiot can use mortar; it takes a good eye to place them so they hold together because of weight and size. I’ll be back with something for you to eat come midday. So, get yourself about it.

‘Better strip off your tunics so you don’t tear them,’ he said. They did so, then started with the smaller, more manageable rocks and were now forced to lug larger stones up the hill. The sun was high in the sky and they were certain Nasur had forgotten about them, but as they set the rock gently into place with the others they had lugged upward, he hove to over the ridge.

He carried a large sack and a covered pail. The boys sat down, drenched in their own perspiration, and waited until he reached them. He handed the pail to Tad, who lifted the lid and said, ‘Ale!’ He took a long pull while Zane opened the bag.

‘Food!’ said the dark-haired boy. He reached in and pulled out something wrapped in a cloth.

‘Called a fist meal,’ said Nasur. ‘Put some cheese and meat or whatever else you got between two slabs of bread and you can eat without a plate or knife.’

Zane handed one to Tad, pulled out a second and saw there was a third, which he handed to Nasur. ‘These are some chicken and cheese with little slices of cucumber and tomato on ‘em,’ he said before he took a large bite. ‘I put some mustard grain paste on it for spice.’ He looked thoroughly pleased with himself. Then he reached for the beer pail, which Tad handed him.

After he drank, he handed the pail to Zane who took a long pull. ‘Go easy, boys,’ he said, ‘wouldn’t do for you to get too light-headed. You’ve still got the best part of a day’s work ahead of you.’

Zane rolled his shoulders as if he could ease the ache by stretching them. ‘Why the sudden desire to restore this wall, Nasur?’

The bearded man shrugged as he gulped down a mouthful of his meal. ‘I don’t know. Just something to do, I expect. Keep you two busy and build some muscle on you. Bolden says you’re as good as you’re going to get with the sword, so no more point in banging you two about. But he said you could be stronger, so I guess that is why you’re doing this.’

Tad said nothing while Zane was thoughtful for a moment, then he said, ‘Does anyone know what they’re going to do with us?’

Nasur said, ‘Pug, for certain. Probably Caleb, Miranda, Nakor, and Magnus, too. They’re the ones who make decisions around here. Me, I’m just a ward maker. I fashion little trinkets to keep little bad things away. They’re used to dealing with big bad things.’ He stood up. ‘Listen, around here it’s wise not to ask questions, in case you don’t like the answers. And, you can’t tell what you don’t know. They’ll tell you what’s what in time. But know this much: everything they teach you, even if you don’t quite know why now, will help some day to keep you alive.’ He pointed to the rocks. ‘Now, you’ve got a bit of work to do and you’ll do it until the sun vanishes below the western sea, then come back to the villa, clean up and get ready for supper. Right?’

They said right and he vanished over the hill. They finished their meal and looked at the stones at the bottom of the hill and finally Tad said, ‘Well, they won’t roll up here by themselves, will they?’

‘Not unless you’ve suddenly become a magician,’ said Zane as he stood and began to walk down the path.

After they finished the wall, they spent a week clearing a cove of storm debris, and then they were put to the task of painting the villa itself. That took nearly a month, and when they were done, they were sent to the opposite side of the island, where an isolated hut rested on a bluff overlooking the ocean and told to clean it out and repaint it. Zane managed to come crashing through the weather-weakened roof of sticks and thatch, earning himself a new scar in the process, a cut down his left upper arm. Tad dabbed at it and said, ‘Get someone to look at it when we get back. It’s not bleeding much.’

Zane nodded. Both boys were now sunburned brown and sporting a variety of small scars from scrapes well earned over the last few months. But both had also put on a good deal of muscle – Tad was no longer the whipcord-thin boy from Stardock, and Zane was no longer the stocky lad. They were now both fit and broad of shoulder, with flat stomachs and possessing more arm-strength than they had ever known. They could run far and fast and still arrive ready to fight, and if it came to that, they knew they would act with purpose.

When they were done with the hut, they were turned back over to the care of Tilenbrook, who had recently returned from whatever mysterious mission he had been on.

Their first morning with the slender man, he bid them meet him in an open stretch of grass near the lake, and said, ‘It’s time for you to learn a bit about fighting.’

Seeing no weapons, Tad said, ‘You mean like brawling?’

‘A bit more than that, but basically, yes.’ He looked at the two boys and said, ‘Which one of you lads wishes to be first?’

Tad and Zane glanced at one another, then Tad said, ‘You’re always the first one to throw a punch. Go ahead.’

Zane smiled and raised his fists, circling to his left, his left fist up beside his head. ‘Very good,’ said Tilenbrook, moving forward like a dancer. ‘The position of your left hand protects your head.’ Then suddenly he was driving his left fist under Zane’s elbow, knocking the wind out of him and making his knees wobble.

‘Of course,’ said Tilenbrook, ‘you need to learn how to protect your side when you do that.’

He stepped forward to Zane and steadied him, saying, ‘Watch me.’ He showed the boys how to draw their elbow into their side and bend slightly to take the blow on the arm or hipbone. ‘Make your opponent tire himself out flailing at your arms, shoulders and hips. You’ll be sore and covered with bruises the next day, but you’ll be alive. Your opponent, however, will be heavy of arm and huffing for breath. Because of all your running, you will still have your wind and even if he’s a better fighter than you by nature, you should be able to win the brawl.’

He spent the morning showing the boys how to use their fists, then in the afternoon he showed them the true art of brawling: fists, feet, knees, elbows and the forehead butt. ‘The eye gouge is especially effective if you can manage to quickly get both thumbs in there, for it leaves your opponent sightless just long enough to effect some serious damage to other parts of his body.’ He glanced at the setting sun and said, ‘I think we’re done now.’

Both boys were exhausted when he was done and as he dismissed them he announced, ‘Tomorrow we’ll move on to common weapons.’

Tad and Zane looked at one another but each boy was too tired to speak.

The next morning they finished their early meal and reported to the lawn where Tilenbrook was supposed to be waiting for them. Instead they found Caleb, now fully restored from his wounds, who stood with two travel packs at his feet and a third over his shoulder.

‘Where’s Tilenbrook?’ asked Tad.

‘About other business,’ Caleb answered. ‘Your training is going to be cut short, because we have to leave, and this very morning. Grab a pack. Each has shirts, trousers, extra boots, and other items you’ll need. We’ll get you weapons once we get to the ship.’

‘Ship?’ asked Tad.

Caleb smiled. ‘Sometimes it does well not to arrive by uncommon means.’

As he picked up his pack, Zane asked, ‘Where are we bound, Caleb?’

‘Kesh.’

‘To Yar-rin?’ asked Tad.

‘Jonril?’ asked Zane.

‘No, to the great city itself,’ said Caleb as he started walking. ‘I’ll tell you more once we’re under way, but we are heading to Port Vykor, then onward past Stardock – we’ll drop in to see your mum – then down into the heart of the Empire.’

‘What are we going to do there?’ asked Tad.

With no smile, Caleb said, ‘That’s a long tale to tell and we’ll have time on the ship.’ Saying nothing more, they marched on.