Читать книгу The Complete Darkwar Trilogy: Flight of the Night Hawks, Into a Dark Realm, Wrath of a Mad God - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 23

THE RIDERS CAME TO A HALT.

The three dust-covered figures stood on the crest of a rise on the road from Khallara to the city of Kesh. Caleb pointed to the lights playing against the underside of clouds in the distance and said, ‘That’s Kesh.’

Zane asked, ‘How big is it?’

Caleb dismounted. ‘Very big. It’s the biggest city in the world.’

They had been riding for four days – long enough for the boys to gain more experience on horseback and cover themselves in enough road grime and sweat to convince the guards at the city gates that they had ridden all the way from the Vale of Dreams. Even if they had traded for fresh mounts along the way, the journey should have taken three months or more. But the boys were quickly learning that their stepfather had resources they could not have possibly imagined a year before.

They had all left Stardock the day after the wedding, ostensibly returning north to some vague destination where Caleb’s family lived. Instead, once they were clear of the town, Caleb had used one of those spheres that the boys had come to think of as ‘travel orbs’, to transport himself, Marie and the boys to Sorcerer’s Isle.

Caleb had taken a full day to acquaint his new wife with his family and the decidedly unexpected inhabitants of the island. Most of the concepts behind the place – great magic, alien words and travel to them, races not of Midkemia – were understandably lost on her, though he knew that she’d come to understand in time. But her poise when confronting the many unexpected sights, pleased Caleb, as did her attempts to be at ease with his parents. He was even more pleased by her obvious joy at their living quarters, which were palatial compared to what she had known in Stardock, and that she gained the affection of his parents easily.

The one tense moment had arrived with the appearance of the six sisters of the Pithirendar, bedecked in garlands of white oleanders and little else, to welcome the boys back to the island. Their overt displays of affection were more than Marie could bear to watch.

Caleb had steered her away from the reunion and had said, ‘Much of what you see here will be strange, but keep one thing in mind above all others: there is no one on this island who wishes you or the boys aught but good.’

Glancing over her shoulder at the girls who had thrown their arms around her son’s necks, she had frowned. ‘That appears to be a little more than good, Caleb.’

‘You’re from Stardock, Marie. You’ve seen different people from the Kingdom and the Empire. Each nation has different customs and beliefs. You’ve already seen everything one can imagine about people.’

‘I’ve not seen green-skinned girls trying to undress my boys in broad daylight!’

Caleb had laughed at that. ‘They only want the boys to go swimming with them.’ He pointed. ‘My father built a lake down there before I was born—’

‘He built a lake?’

‘—because my mother hated walking all the way to the beach to go swimming. Anyway, the youth of the Pithirendar need to spend a great deal of time in or near water. It’s vital for their health.’

Marie hadn’t looked convinced, but Caleb had understood that for mothers, sons never truly grow up. He knew that from personal experience.

They had spent one more night together, and the next morning, Caleb and the boys had left Sorcerer’s Isle. They had used an orb to reach a stable in Landreth owned by the Conclave and then used it again to transport themselves to the road upon which they now travelled.

Caleb unsaddled his horse and the boys did the same. ‘Why aren’t we pushing on now?’ asked Tad. ‘The lights look close.’

‘Because they’re not. It’s a half a day’s ride to the foul borough – outside the ancient wall – and then another two hours of riding to reach the gates. We’ll be there by late afternoon tomorrow.’

Zane put his saddle down and tied off his horse where he could crop grass by the road. Kneeling he said, ‘It must be big. I’ve never seen so many lights in the sky.’

‘Thousands of lanterns and torches, Zane,’ said Caleb.

Tad joined his foster brother and they both watched the city in the distance which appeared brighter in contrast to the darkening sky.

Caleb made a fire and after they had eaten their rations, he sat back and said, ‘Again.’

The boys looked at one another, and Tad gestured that Zane should begin.

‘You’re a trader from the Vale, by the name of Caleb.’

Tad added, ‘I think we can remember that much.’

Caleb picked up a pebble and tossed it at him. Tad grinned as he dodged it easily. ‘We are your two very talented, very bright and able, handsome, and very brave apprentices, Tad and Zane.’

Zane nodded. ‘Also easy enough to remember.’

‘What do we trade?’

Tad said, ‘Anything and everything. We are always looking for rare items of great worth to sell in the Kingdom. Gems, jewellery, fine craftsmanship, anything that is easy to transport and renders a large profit.’

‘But we don’t carry large amounts of gold,’ Zane added. ‘We deal in letters of credit, and know money lenders from here up to Krondor.’

‘Why are you not with your master?’

Zane said, ‘He has sent us out into the bazaar to seek out items that nobles and wealthy commoners in the north might wish to purchase. If we see something noteworthy, we report it to our master who returns to judge if the item is worth purchasing.’

Tad added, ‘We are not permitted to bind our master to any transaction and if we give the impression of committing to a sale we shall be severely beaten.’

Caleb kept drilling the boys in their story and provided them with enough basic questions and things to look out for to allow them to pass as traders’ apprentices. Then he started running them through the other things they needed to know: who to contact if something happened to him, places they could find a safe haven, and finally, what to do if they knew he was dead.

He saved that point for last, for he wanted to impress on the boys just how dangerous the way before them might prove. It had taken several conversations to convince them that he was not overstating the danger of belonging to his family and working on behalf of those on Sorcerer’s Isle.

The boys turned in and Caleb took the first watch. He noticed how quickly Tad and Zane fell asleep. In the flickering light of the campfire, they looked like the boys they had been, rather than like the men they were becoming. For not the first time he silently prayed he had not overestimated their potential, or underestimated his own ability to keep them safe.

The three rode slowly through the crowds, trying to navigate while the boys gawked at the exotic sights of Kesh. It was just as Caleb had promised – a city unlike any other on the world of Midkemia.

They had come to appreciate the incredible scale of the place about mid-morning, after they had seen the upper city and the citadel on top of the plateau overlooking the lower city and the shores of the Overn Deep. From a distance it had looked like the top of a faraway mountain, but as they approached, the view resolved itself into what it was – a massive palace surrounded by a fortress-city, built high above every approach from land or by water: the heart of the Empire of Great Kesh.

The day had been clear and their view of the great citadel was unencumbered by fog, haze, or clouds. The boys remarked at least a half a dozen times on how large the building was. Caleb explained that the vast structure had been erected over generations, and that it housed a virtual city itself. He told them of the cavernous halls and many apartments occupied by the Imperial family, the administrators of the empire, the entire household staff – under the watchful eye of the Master of the Keep, the overseer of the building – and how it still had enough space for apartments and suites of rooms for the Lords and Masters of Kesh, as well as the great Gallery of Lords and Masters itself. Gardens were also scattered throughout the building, some encompassing fountains and pools.

At one time, only the Trueblood – the original Keshian tribe that had occupied this region around the great Overn Deep – had been permitted within the building after sundown. The only exception had been visiting royalty, ruling nobles and ambassadors, and they had been confined to a specific corner of the Imperial palace from sundown to sunrise.

Now, Caleb said, things were a little less formal, for certain non-Trueblood nobles were now permitted to stay within the upper city, but it was rare and counted as an enormous privilege. Caleb had never visited the upper city, but knew many who had.

As they made their way through the crowded streets, the boys turned this way and that trying to make sense of the confusion of images, smells and sounds around them. Caleb had pointed out a few major landmarks for them to remember, so that they would learn the layout of the city and be able to navigate it quickly, but the boys were overwhelmed by the newness of everything and Caleb knew they had no idea where they were.

Tad and Zane were in awe. Everywhere they looked they encountered novelty: the Keshian garb, the cacophony of languages, the smells, the sights. Citizens from every corner of the Empire and travellers from all over the world flocked to Great Kesh. Proud Ashunta horsemen with their broad-brimmed felt hats bedecked with feathers, Cosodi traders with their bright robes of orange, red, yellow and lime patches, and Jajormir mystics dancing in circles with their beggar bowls at their feet all slowed the three riders to a crawl. A slave coffle made its way through one of the smaller markets, and both boys stared in horror at the abject misery of the unfortunates on their way to the slave block.

Each corner they turned brought them new sights, and they were constantly besieged by beggars, hawkers and thieves. The boys often batted away curious hands that were reaching to see if a purse might be tucked away behind a saddle or at the girth.

Charioteers of the Trueblood forced their way through the streets by cracking their whips above the heads of the commoners, who ducked out of the way to let the nobles pass. The heavy thud of boot-heels hitting cobblestones caused the boys to turn in their saddles. They saw a full company of black-armoured soldiers heading their way.

Caleb motioned for them to move their horses to the side of the road, and by the time they had reached the street’s verge, the soldiers were passing them. Even the charioteers moved out of the way of the hundred men who marched towards them. They were armoured from head to foot – black pointed helms with nose bars and chain neck guards, black chest plates over black leather jackets, decorated with a single Keshian royal hawk, grieves and leggings – all fashioned from black steel. Their shields were square and slightly curved, so that they could form an interlocking shield wall, and each soldier carried a short spear over one shoulder and a shortsword at his side.

The sergeants’ helms had short ridges across them and were topped with a horsehair bristle. The officers rode behind them in matching uniforms save that their crests sat fore to aft, and their horsehair bristles were a hand’s span taller than the sergeants’.

‘That’s the Inner Legion,’ said Caleb as the boys watched in awe. ‘Kesh’s dog soldiers are stationed from here to the Vale, but these lads are given the protection of the capital and the imperial palace. They’ll not budge from this city, which is a good thing for their neighbours, as they tend to pick the toughest bastards in the army for that legion.’ He pointed up towards the citadel on top of the plateau.

When the soldiers had passed, he motioned for them to start moving again and after another half an hour they reached an inn. Its sign showed three willow trees in a row. Caleb led Tad and Zane through the gate into the stabling yard and a boy hurried to meet them.

Once the horses were turned over to the lackey, they entered the inn. It had a spacious, clean, and quiet common room, and they headed straight for the bar, where they were greeted by a tall, thin man with iron-grey hair and a full beard. ‘Caleb! he cried out in greeting. ‘It’s good to see you again. Who are the lads behind you?’

‘This is Tad,’ Caleb said putting a hand on Tad’s shoulder, ‘and this is Zane,’ he added putting his other hand on Zane’s shoulder. ‘They are my sons.’

‘Sons!’ said the barman, coming around to extend his hand in greeting. ‘All these years I’ve known you and never one word about being married, let alone having sons.’

‘It’s a recent thing. I’ve adopted them.’ He gave their shoulders a playful squeeze and slapped them on the back, then said, ‘Boys, this is Pablo Maguire, owner of the Three Willows.’

The boys exchanged glances at the names – for they were as alien to Kesh as Tsurani names would have been – and the old innkeeper noticed. Smiling he said, ‘My mother is from Rodez, – hence Pablo, after my grandfather – and my father came from Kinnochaide,’ he said, using the Kinnochman’s name for Kinnoch Province. ‘Which is why I’m a Maguire, and as for how I came to be running a tavern in the heart of Great Kesh is another story for another time.’ He spoke with the lilting rhythm the people of Kinnoch gave to their speech, and apparently to any language, as he spoke Keshian.

‘I’ll need two rooms,’ said Caleb. ‘Or the one big one at the end of the hall if it’s free.’

‘It’s not, sad to say, for it’s already occupied by a great lady and her daughters.’ He glanced at the boys and said, ‘Better steer a wide course away from them, lads, for they are Truebloods.’

Caleb’s eyebrows went up in silent question, and Maguire feigned offence. ‘What? A fine lady can’t heave to at my inn?’

Caleb laughed. ‘Obviously one can and has.’

Pablo’s eyes were merry as he said, ‘I know what you’re thinking: with all the great residence houses in the city, why here? Well, truth to tell, they’re not all wealthy or high-born, though—’ he directed his remark to the boys ‘—they all act as if they’re related to the Emperor and even the lowest Trueblood is still higher-born than the highest of the rest of us!’ Looking at Caleb, he continued, ‘This lady’s in for the Midsummer’s Festival.’

‘It’s a month away,’ said Caleb.

‘Well, she and the girls are buying things right now. I believe her husband is some governor or an important man in one of the southern provinces, and he’s coming up to pay his respects to the Imperial family, or something like that. She tells me nothing, so I’ve had to piece that information together over the last week. They’ll be here a while, so—’ again he looked at the boys ‘—if you want to keep your heads on your shoulders give the girls room. The Trueblood have no sense of humour when it comes to their daughters’ association with common boys.’

Tad and Zane glanced at one another and Tad shrugged. ‘We’ll behave ourselves,’ he said.

Caleb gripped them both by the shoulders again and said, ‘I’ll make sure they do. Now, let’s get cleaned up and have something to eat. I have a quick errand I must run, and then we can see some of the city in the evening. Tomorrow, we start working.’

Tad and Zane nodded, they knew that working had two meanings, and they were very nervous about the one that wouldn’t be obvious.

Zane pointed. ‘Look at those.’

Tad nodded and they approached the vendor whose booth was set up against the southernmost boundary wall of the main bazaar in the Hajana District of the lower city. The boys had been in Kesh a week now and were still hard pressed not to get lost.

They had carried out the same mission each day while Caleb was off on his own business. They wandered the merchant districts of the city, paying attention to everything they saw, and then at the end of the day they told Caleb what they had witnessed. Their cover-story was that they were scouting for possible items of interest to sell in the north – Krondor specifically, and that they were from the Vale of Dreams, hence their odd accents.

The newness of the Keshian city was beginning to wear off, though they were still easily distracted by some of its younger female inhabitants who passed by. Dress customs ranged from head-to-toe tribal dress that left only the eyes exposed, to the near-nudity of the Oshani lion hunters, Dingazi cattle herders and the Truebloods themselves. The boys would often stand in mute amazement as a dark-skinned girl of alien beauty walked by, ignoring the gawking northern youths. But even that distraction was beginning to wear off as they grew accustomed to it. And from a couple of ill-timed overtures made to passing girls in the city, they had learned that outlanders were seen as barely worthy of civility, let alone friendliness. Caleb had warned them that Kesh was an empire of many nations, some of whom were bitter enemies of others, and only the iron rule of the Emperor kept them from open warfare. Civility was a function of the rule of law, not a social concern.

Zane motioned for Tad to follow him to the vendor’s table, passing a hawker offering lemon-flavoured cool water from an earthenware jar strapped to his back. The boys were dressed in their lightest clothes and were still not used to the heat, though they had been told that the city would get even hotter over the next few months.

The items that had caught Zane’s eye were an unusual bunch of religious icons. Some of them were familiar to the boys, but others weren’t. They examined them under the wary gaze of the merchant, who appeared ready in case they attempted to dash off with an item without paying for it. After a few minutes, he demanded, ‘Buy now or move along. I have no time for such as you.’

Tad’s eyes widened. He had been repeatedly scolded to buy or move on by merchants all week, for penniless boys held no interest for them. He said, ‘My master bids us find saleable items to take north and sell in the Kingdom of the Isles.’

‘And who might your master be, O host to a thousand fleas?’

Zane tried not to laugh. He found the usual insults of the market extremely amusing. Tad just got irritated. ‘Caleb, a merchant of wealth and standing in the Vale of Dreams. He trades from one end of the Bitter Sea to the other. Do you have sources that can supply curiosities such as these in quantity?’

Still appearing dubious, the merchant nevertheless modified his tone and said, ‘If that is true, it would be a matter of what constitutes “quantity”. Some of these items are of great craftsmanship and took many days to fashion.’

Zane stood examining the various icons and amulets. He held one up and stared at it even more intently. Slowly he put it back. Tad said, ‘Say, perhaps a dozen of each of the more common gods worshipped in the north?’

‘A week, two perhaps,’ said the man, smelling a possible windfall.

Zane grabbed Tad’s wrist and squeezed, saying, ‘We will speak to our master and if he’s interested, we will return tomorrow.’

Zane didn’t wait for Tad to add anything more, and half-steered, half-pushed him away from the booth. When they were lost in the crowd and far from the merchant’s view, Tad said, ‘What?’

‘One of those icons looked like the one Caleb told us to watch for. The thing that looked like a hawk.’

Tad glanced over his shoulder and then said, ‘We should get back to the Three Willows and tell him.’

The boys hurried off and took the shortest route back to the inn they could remember, though it still took them almost an hour to find it.

Caleb sat at a table in the corner with another man; a stocky fellow wearing a red turban, a heavy brocade vest – despite the summer’s heat – over the finest linen shirt. His face was dark, like sun-tanned leather, and his darker eyes regarded the boys as they approached the table.

Zane halted while Tad said, ‘Caleb, may we speak to you for a moment, please?’

Caleb turned to look at the boys and said, ‘You’re back early.’

‘We found something we think you might be interested in,’ said Zane.

Caleb nodded as the other man stood. ‘Boys, this is Chezarul, a trader from the west of the Empire. He’s as stingy in a bargain as he is generous with his friends.’ To the man, he said, ‘These are my adopted sons.’

‘Then I bid you welcome to the greatest city in the world. You are welcome guests in my home from now until the end of your days.’ He bowed, and then shook hands with each of the boys.

Chezarul took his chair again and Tad said, ‘Caleb, if we could have a moment, in private …?’

Both men rose and Caleb said, ‘If you will excuse me?’

Chezarul bowed and said, ‘Bring the boys to my shop tomorrow, Caleb.’

He departed and they moved upstairs to the privacy of their room. ‘What is it?’

Zane quickly described what they had seen and said, ‘I don’t know if it’s the same amulet you told us to watch out for, but it could be.’

‘I wish I had thought to show you the one in my father’s possession,’ said Caleb. ‘There were just too many things going on when we left.’ He paused, then nodded. ‘I’ll go with you tomorrow and if the vendor is there, we’ll purchase some of his trinkets, with a promise to buy more. That should move him to contact his supplier and we can have him followed.’ He put his hand on Zane’s shoulder. ‘You did well.’

Zane looked pleased with himself.

‘I’ve got some errands to attend to for the next two hours. Go and do whatever you wish, but try not to find too much trouble. Be back here in two hours and we’ll have supper together.’

‘Yes, Caleb,’ said Tad as their stepfather left the room.

‘What now?’ asked Tad.

‘I don’t know,’ answered Zane. ‘We could just rest here for a while?’

‘Too hot,’ he said. ‘I’d just as soon keep exploring and see if there’s anywhere we might be welcome – someplace to have some fun.’

Zane grinned. ‘You mean someplace where the girls won’t spit on us just because we have an odd accent.’

‘That, too,’ said Tad, returning the grin. ‘I hear there’s a small plaza over by the eastern caravanserai gate where foreigners gather. Maybe there …?’

As Zane pulled the door wide open, he was confronted by a momentarily confusing sight. A slightly portly older woman, dressed in the fashion of the Trueblood, moved down the hall to his right, followed by two beautiful girls. Both were dressed like their mother, in linen skirts fastened with brooches at the hip and wearing decorative torques around their necks. A great deal of beadwork adorned their hair, and rings and bracelets made a racket as they moved. One of the girls caught his eye and smiled at him, while the other seemed intent upon something her mother was saying.

Zane halted suddenly and Tad bumped into him, forcing Zane to step into the hall. The girl who had turned to see who was at the door giggled and moved aside, causing her sister to also look in the boy’s direction. Zane was on the verge of uttering an apology for startling them, when their mother turned to see the two somewhat dishevelled boys, still covered in grime from their day in the city under the sweltering sun.

‘Mamanaud!’ she said, her voice rising to an angry tone and she pointed at the boys.

Zane turned to look at Tad and said, ‘Mamanaud?’

Just then, two fists the size of hams gripped the boys’ shoulders and the largest man they had ever seen shoved them hard, back into their room. Both lads collapsed in a heap, while in the hall, the older woman screamed what sounded vaguely like insults at them. The large man entered the room and pulled a very long, very sharp curved dagger from his belt.

Everything had taken place so quickly, the boys were not quite sure what had happened. The huge man took a menacing step towards them but suddenly a sword blade rested on his shoulder at the crook of his neck, and a voice from behind him said, ‘Try not to move, my friend, unless you wish to bleed profusely.’

The huge man frowned and froze in mid-step, his face looking like a dark brown pumpkin with eyes and a tiny nose above his broad mouth. The woman shouted something unintelligible from the hall and a man’s voice answered her. ‘I’m sure it was all just a misunderstanding, madam, and the boys meant no harm or insult.’

Still prevented from seeing anything through the door by the motionless behemoth who occupied their entire field of vision, the boys then heard the voice of Pablo Maguire saying, ‘What is going on here?’

A three-voiced conversation then ensued; the woman shouting in an almost hysterical pitch, while two male voices appeared to be trying to assuage her concerns.

The big man in the doorway put his dagger away slowly and backed out the door, so now the boys could see a swordsman standing behind him, his blade resting on the man’s neck. ‘Now, I’m going to remove my sword from your neck,’ he said, ‘and you’ll go see to your mistress without any more fuss.’

The bodyguard moved forward a step and turned. Just before he could faced the wielder of the blade, he found the point of the weapon at his neck once more. ‘Ah ah ah!’ said the young man holding the sword. ‘That wouldn’t be very wise.’

The big man stepped away, threw a nasty glance at the two boys and turned and vanished into the room at the end of the hall.

The man with the sword walked over to the door and said, ‘You boys all right?’

Tad and Zane both nodded. Tad said, ‘We are in your debt.’

‘Not really,’ said the man, putting his sword into its scabbard. He had dark hair and blue eyes, and his movements were catquick. He smiled and looked younger than he had a moment before. ‘I followed them up the stairs, and when I saw the confusion ahead of me, I thought it best to keep that mountain of a man – assuming he is human and not some troll they’ve shaved – from gutting you two.’ He glanced around. ‘Actually, I was looking for a man named Caleb.’

‘That’s our stepfather,’ said Zane. ‘He’s going to be gone for a while.’

‘Ah,’ said the swordsman. ‘Well, I guess I need to come back later. How long might he be?’

‘He said two hours,’ answered Tad. ‘We were going to do some more exploring over by the eastern caravanserai.’

He nodded. ‘I think I shall wait here for a few more minutes.’ He indicated the end of the hall with a lift of his chin. ‘Just to make sure you’re not followed. I don’t think Caleb would appreciate me letting you get turned into chopped meat any time soon.’

‘I’m Tad, and this is Zane.’

The man bowed, and the boys could see he was finely dressed. ‘I’m Talwin Hawkins, an old friend of Caleb.’ He winked at the boys. ‘Go on, then; see if you can find some fun that doesn’t involve bloodshed.’

He stood aside as the boys left the room and then followed them into the hall and down the stairs. Reaching the common room, Tal said, ‘I have a message for Caleb, when you see him.’

‘Sir?’ asked Tad.

‘Tell him the usual time, same place, tomorrow night. Got it?’

Tad repeated the message back to him.

‘I need to be off, just in case.’

‘Just in case, sir?’ asked Zane.

‘Yes, exactly,’ said Tal, moving towards the door. ‘If I were you, I would head outside and keep yourselves busy until Caleb returns. That bodyguard up there could eat you both for lunch and still have room for an ox.’ He disappeared out the door.

Tad looked at Zane. ‘Well, we still have some daylight. Let’s wander around the bazaar.’

Seeing no reasonable alternative, the boys returned outside and decided to use the last hours of sunlight for something more enjoyable than being thrashed by Mamanaud.