Читать книгу The Riftwar Legacy: The Complete 4-Book Collection - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 25

RIDERS HURRIED ALONG THE HIGHWAY.

Owyn, Gorath and Ethan Graves rode quickly down the highway toward Krondor. They had spent one night at Darkmoor, in a decent inn, indulging themselves in a bottle of good wine – which Gorath grudgingly admitted was better than that served by Baron Cavell – and a hot meal before sleeping on down-stuffed mattresses. The rest of the journey had been less hospitable, sleeping under the stars away from the road, bundled up in sleeping cloaks on rocky ground, and only twice in the rain.

They had made good time from Malac’s Cross to Krondor – less than fifteen days – and hadn’t killed their horses in the process. Now they were within sight of Krondor.

As they slowed their horses to a walk, Graves said, ‘I must throw myself on the mercy of the Temple of Ishap and confess my sins.’

Owyn said, ‘What will they do?’

‘Execute me, perhaps, or exile me. I don’t know.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t much care, but before that I have to get Kat out of the city.’

‘Where will you send her?’

‘To Kesh. I have connections there. Old trading partners in Durbin.’

Owyn said, ‘From what I hear Durbin’s a rough place.’

‘So is Krondor if you have to live on the street,’ said Graves.

Owyn was still trying to piece together all the relationships he and his companions had uncovered since he had first met Locklear. He wished more than once that Squire James was still with them. He asked Graves, ‘What about the Prince’s justice?’

Graves shrugged. ‘If the Ishapians turn me over to Arutha, he’ll probably hang me.’

Owyn reflected on that. In the two weeks he had spent in Graves’s company he had come to like the gruff old man. He was unapologetic about his early past, simply admitting he had been involved in smuggling, extortion, and had killed more than one man on behalf of the Mockers of Krondor. He made no brief excusing his behaviour and only said that since he had heard the call of the temple, he was a changed man.

Owyn believed him, but also decided if a fight broke out he’d want Graves on his side. He was still a powerful-looking man despite his grey hair and lined features.

The gate to the city was manned by armed guards, one of whom put up his hand and said, ‘Halt!’

Owyn said, ‘Trouble, guardsman?’

Pointing at Gorath, the guard said, ‘Who’s this?’

‘You can talk to me,’ said Gorath. ‘I speak your language.’

‘Well, then, who are you?’ demanded the guard. ‘What’s your business in Krondor?’

Gorath said, ‘I bring a message from Prince Arutha to the magician Pug.’

The guard blinked in surprise at the mention of those names. He motioned them aside and said, ‘We’ll have you escorted to the palace.’ His tone made it clear this wasn’t optional. Another soldier hurried into the city and returned less than ten minutes later with half a dozen burly men wearing the tabards of the city constabulary. At their head was a tall man who bore a badge of office on his tabard. He conferred a moment with the sergeant at the gate then came to stand before Gorath. ‘You claim to be carrying a message from the Prince to the magician Pug?’

Gorath replied, ‘That is what I said.’

‘I am the Sheriff of Krondor. Is there someone at the palace who can vouch for you?’

Gorath glanced at Owyn. Owyn said, ‘We met a lot of people, but most of them are out in the field with Prince Arutha. If Pug is at the palace, he’ll vouch for us.’

The sheriff spent a moment casting a baleful eye on the three of them, then said, ‘Come along.’

He started toward the palace, and Graves said, ‘I have to get to the Temple of Ishap.’

Over his shoulder, the sheriff said, ‘You can visit the temple after I leave you at the palace. We’ve got orders concerning the comings and goings of suspicious-looking individuals, and you fit the description. If the Captain of the Royal Guard turns you loose, that’s his decision.’