Читать книгу Rage of a Demon King - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 11

Roo scowled.

Karli stood aside, obvious awe on her features, as the Duke of Krondor entered their home. She had met Lord James once before, at a gala Roo had thrown to mark the advent of his success with the founding of the Bitter Sea Company. Outside the door a carriage waited. Four mounted guards, one carrying a spear from which hung the ducal banner, stood holding their horses’ bridles.

‘Good evening, Mrs Avery,’ said the Duke. ‘I’m sorry for the unexpected intrusion, but I need to borrow your husband for a bit.’

Karli was nearly speechless, but she managed to say, ‘Borrow?’

Duke James smiled and took her hand, squeezing it slightly. ‘I’ll return him to you undamaged. I promise.’

Roo said, ‘Shall we talk?’ He indicated his study.

The Duke said, ‘I think so.’

He removed his cape and handed it to the astonished serving girl who had come to see who was at the door, and swept past her and Karli.

In his study, Roo closed the door. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ he asked.

James sat in a chair opposite Roo’s desk. ‘From the expression on your face when I appeared at the door, pleasure isn’t what I think you feel.’

Roo said, ‘Well, it’s not often we have the Duke of Krondor show up unannounced a few minutes before bedtime.’

‘I can do without the fuss of letting you know I’m coming and throwing your household into an uproar. I don’t need another large meal with all the neighbors invited,’ said James. ‘Truth to tell, I know most of those with estates near here, and you’re among the few with whom I can have an interesting discussion.’

Roo looked dubious. ‘Would you care to stay the night, m’lord?’

‘My thanks for the offer, but I must continue my journey. I’m heading to your homeland, to have word with the Dowager Baroness and her son. She sent assassins to kill Erik.’

‘I was warned,’ said Roo. ‘I was also told you took the assassin into custody.’

‘Yes,’ said the Duke. His features were drawn and he looked as if he had done without sleep for too many days recently, but his eyes were still alert and they studied Roo’s face for a moment. ‘He’s been … seen to. The other man, though, he’s still out and about, and if he’s merely Baroness Mathilda’s errand boy, he’ll be back to Darkmoor by now and she may be hatching another plot. I have plans for you and Erik, so I’m personally going to see she stops trying to kill you,’ he said lightly. Then, with complete seriousness, he added, ‘Neither of you is to die until I say so.’

Roo sat back. There was really nothing more for him to say until the Duke told him what was on his mind. Roo knew he owed James several serious favors for his intervention in Roo’s almost unheard of rise to power and wealth, and he was certain James was here to collect one of those favors. He wouldn’t stop by just to let Roo know he was personally seeing to Erik’s and his safety.

After a moment of silence, James said, ‘I could do with a drink.’

Roo had the good grace to blush. ‘Sorry,’ he said, rising from his chair. He retrieved two crystal goblets and some expensive brandy in a matching decanter from a cabinet built into the wall next to a window overlooking one of Karli’s many gardens. He poured two generous measures, then handed one to the Duke.

James sipped and nodded his approval.

When Roo had returned to his chair, the Duke spoke. ‘I have a favor to ask.’

Roo was surprised. ‘You sound as if you really mean that.’

‘I do. We both know you owe me in a very large measure, but I can’t demand you go.’

‘Go where?’

‘Queg.’

‘Queg?’ Roo’s astonishment was genuine. ‘Why Queg?’

James paused a moment, as if weighing how much to tell Roo. He lowered his voice. ‘Confidentially, we’re going to have our hands full with the Emerald Queen’s fleet when it clears the Straits of Darkness. Nicky’s got some notion of hitting it halfway through, but to do that he’s got to have the bulk of our fleet on the Far Coast. That means we have no way of protecting our shipments from the Free Cities and Ylith when the enemy is in the Bitter Sea.’

‘You want to make a deal with Queg not to raid our shipping?’

‘No,’ said James. ‘I want you to negotiate a deal to hire Quegan warships as escorts for our ships.’

Roo looked like an owl greeted by a bright light. Then he laughed. ‘You want to bribe them.’

‘In a word, yes.’ James sipped at his brandy then lowered his voice, ‘And we want fire oil. Lots of it.’

‘Will they sell it?’

James sipped his drink. ‘Once, no. But they know we have the knowledge of making it, and have had it since the fall of Armengar. What we don’t have is the production facilities. Our agents tell us they have an abundant supply. I need at least five thousand barrels. Ten thousand would be better.’

‘That’s a lot of destruction,’ whispered Roo.

‘You know what’s coming, Roo,’ the Duke answered, his voice equally low.

Roo nodded. There was only one merchant in Krondor who had traveled to that distant land and seen firsthand the destruction visited upon innocents by the Emerald Queen. But there were other merchants with far better connections to be made with Queg. ‘Why me?’

‘You are a well-regarded curiosity, Roo Avery. Word of your rise has spread from Roldem to the Sunset Islands, and I’m counting on that curiosity to tip the balance.’

‘What balance?’ asked Roo.

James set his goblet on Roo’s desk. ‘Queg has many quaint and original laws, and not the least of these is the simple fact that a non-citizen of that mad little Empire had no legal rights. If you set foot on Quegan soil without a Quegan sponsor, you’re property for the first Quegan with a strong enough arm to toss a rope around you and make it stick. If you resist, even to save your life, that’s assault on a citizen.’ He made a rowing motion. ‘How do you feel about long ocean voyages?’

‘How long?’

‘Twenty years is the shortest sentence we’ve heard of.’

Roo sighed. ‘How do I get a sponsor?’

‘That’s the tricky part,’ said James. ‘We’ve had strained relations with Queg lately. Too much smuggling and raiding from our point of view, too little paying of duties for sailing on their ocean from their point of view. Our delegation was expelled from their court four years ago, and it’s going to take a while to get another installed.’

‘Sounds difficult,’ said Roo.

‘It is. But the thing you need to know about the Quegans is that their government serves two purposes: to keep order – by keeping the peasants beaten down – and to defend the island. The real power rests with their rich merchants. The oldest families have hereditary rights to a place on their ruling body, the Imperial Senate. Those with enough money can buy a seat.’

Roo grinned. ‘Sounds like my kind of place.’

‘I doubt you’d like it. Remember, aliens have no rights. If you irritate your sponsor, he can withdraw his protection at whim. That means you have to be very polite. Take lots of gifts.’

‘I can see what you mean.’ Roo reflected on what he had been told for a moment, then asked, ‘How am I supposed to get ashore to make this sort of sponsorship contact if you can’t provide an introduction?’

‘You’re an enterprising lad,’ said James, finishing his brandy. He stood. ‘You’ll find a way. Start sounding out your business associates. Once you get some names to contact, I can arrange to have one message smuggled into Queg without too much difficulty, but that’s about the limit of what I can do.’

Roo rose. ‘I suppose I’ll find a way.’ Already his mind was turning to the problem.

‘My carriage is waiting and I have some distance to travel,’ said the Duke as he reached the doorway.

James followed him and motioned for the serving girl, who was rooted to the same spot he had left her in, still holding the Duke’s cloak. She quickly helped the Duke on with it, and James stood aside while Roo opened the door.

James’s carriage was waiting just beyond the portal and Roo’s gateman made ready to escort the carriage back to the entrance to Roo’s estate.

As the carriage door was closed by a guard, James leaned out the window and said, ‘Don’t be too long. I’d like you to leave next month at the latest.’

Roo nodded, and closed the door. Karli hurried from the upstairs to ask, ‘What did the Duke want?’

‘I’m going to Queg,’ answered Roo.

‘Queg?’ responded his wife. ‘Isn’t that dangerous?’

Roo shrugged. ‘Yes. But for the moment, getting there is the problem.’ He yawned. Slipping his arm around her waist, he gave her a playful squeeze. ‘Right now I need some sleep. Let’s go to bed.’

She returned his merry tone with a rare smile. ‘I would like that.’

Roo led his wife upstairs.

Roo lay in darkness listening to Karli’s even breathing. Their lovemaking had been uninspired. Karli did nothing to arouse his desire, the way Sylvia Esterbrook did. He thought of Sylvia during his love play with his wife and felt vaguely guilty for it.

He had visited Sylvia almost weekly, often twice in a week, since the award ceremony at the palace, and he was still as excited by her as he had been the first time he had come to her bed. He quietly stood up and moved to the window.

Through the flawless glass, imported at great expense from Kesh, he could see the rolling hills of his estate. He had a brook that provided, he had been told, excellent fishing, and he had a small stand of woodlands to the north teeming with game. He had said he would fish and hunt like a noble, but he never seemed to find time. The only thing that he could remotely consider recreation was his time spent with Erik at the Sign of the Broken Shield, making love to Sylvia, or practicing his swordplay with his cousin Duncan.

He reviewed his life in a rare moment of reflection and had to consider himself both lucky and cursed. He was lucky that he had survived the murder of Stefan von Darkmoor, the journey to Novindus with Captain Calis, and his confrontation with the Jacoby Brothers. More, he was now one of the wealthiest merchants in Krondor. He felt blessed to be a family man, though his wife was not someone he cared to consider; he had long since admitted to himself he had married Karli out of pity and guilt: he felt responsible for the death of her father.

His children confused him. They were alien little creatures, demanding things he could only vaguely recognize as needs. And they tended to smell at the most inconvenient times. Abigail was a shy child who often burst into tears and ran from him if he raised his voice even in the slightest, and Helmut was teething, which led to his constantly spitting up the contents of his stomach, usually on a fresh tunic that Roo had just put on. He knew that had he not married Karli, he would now be wed to Sylvia. He didn’t understand love, as others talked about it, but Sylvia consumed his thoughts. She took him to heights of passion he had only dreamt of before he met her. He even imagined that had Sylvia been his wife, his children would be perfect, blond little creatures who smiled all the time and never spoke unless it was required by their father. He sighed. Even if Sylvia had been their mother, Abigail and Helmut would be odd, alien creatures, he was sure.

He saw a cloud moving across the sky, blocking the big moon, the only one showing this time of night. As the vista beyond the window darkened, so did his mood. Sylvia, he wondered silently to himself. He was beginning to doubt she was in love with him; maybe it was some doubt about himself, he thought, but he just couldn’t truly believe someone such as himself could capture her interest, let alone her heart. Still, she seemed relieved when he could arrange to visit her and her father, especially if he could spend the night. Her lovemaking was always inventive and enthusiastic, but as the months wore by, he suspected everything wasn’t as it seemed to be. He also suspected she might be giving information to her father that cost Roo in his business. He decided he would have to be more careful what he said to Sylvia. He didn’t think she was getting information out of him to give to her father, but a chance remark repeated over dinner might give the crafty old Jacob enough of an edge to better his younger rival.

Stretching, he watched as the cloud rolled past. Sylvia was a strange and unexpected presence in his life, a miracle. Yet doubts continued to stir. He wondered what Helen Jacoby would make of this. Thinking of Helen made him smile. While she was the widow of a man he had gotten killed, they had become friends and, truth to tell, he enjoyed talking to her more than either Karli or Sylvia.

Roo sighed. Three women, and he didn’t know what to make of any of them. He softly left the bedchamber and crossed to the room he used as his office. Opening a chest, he extracted a wooden box and lifted the lid. In the moonlight rested a brilliant set of matched rubies, five large stones as large as his thumb and a dozen smaller ones, all cut in identical fashion.

He had tried to sell the set in the East, but too many gem merchants recognized it for what it was, stolen goods. The case was inscribed with the name of the owner, a Lord Vasarius.

Roo laughed softly. He had cursed his luck at being unable to sell the gems, but now he counted himself fortunate. He knew that in the morning he would tell his apprentice Dash to inform his grandfather, Duke James, that when he was ready to send his message to Queg, he knew what it would say:

‘My Lord Vasarius. My name is Rupert Avery, merchant of Krondor. I have recently come into possession of an item of great value I am certain belongs to you. May I have the pleasure of returning it to you in person?’

The ship rocked gently inside the huge harbor that was the entrance to the city of Queg, capital of the island nation of the same name. Roo watched with fascination as they edged close to the quay.

Huge war galleys crowded the harbor, along with dozens of smaller ships and boats, from large trading vessels down to tiny fishing smacks. For an island the size of Queg, it seemed an improbably busy port.

Roo had studied as much as he could on the hostile island nation, asking his trading partners, old soldiers and sailors, and anyone else who could give him an ‘edge,’ as the gamblers like to say. When the Empire of Great Kesh had withdrawn from the Far Coast and what were now the Free Cities, pulling out her legions to send south to fight rebellious nations in the Keshian Confederacy, the Governor of Queg had revolted.

A child of the then Emperor of Kesh, from his fourth or fifth wife, he claimed one gods-inspired divine reason or another that led to the founding of the Empire of Queg. This tiny nation of former Keshians, mixed with local islanders through intermarriage, would have been something of a joke save for two factors. The first was that the island was volcanic and had some of the richest farmland north of the Vale of Dreams, surrounded by unusual local currents so that it was the most clement climate in the Bitter Sea – meaning it was self-sufficient when it came to feeding its populace – and the second was its navy.

Queg had the largest navy in the Bitter Sea, a fact of life constantly driven home by its regular harassment and occasional seizure of Kingdom, Keshian, and Free Cities ships. Besides Queg’s claim that it had territorial rights throughout the Bitter Sea – a legacy of that long-ago claim on this sea by Kesh – there was the additional irritation of its pirates. Often galleys without flags would raid along the Kingdom coast or the Free Cities, down even along the far western coast of the Empire in a bold year, and at every turn the Emperor and Senate of Queg denied knowledge.

More than once Roo had heard from a minor palace official, ‘And all they’ll ever say is, “we are a poor nation, surrounded on all sides by enemies.”’

Odd shadows skimming across the water caused Roo to lift his eyes aloft, and they opened wide in amazement. ‘Look!’

Jimmy, grandson of Lord James, and his brother, Dash, both looked up and observed a formation of giant birds flying out to sea. Jimmy was along at his grandfather’s insistence, which caused Roo no small amount of discomfort. Dash worked for him, at least nominally, and was a reliable apprentice trader. Jimmy worked for his grandfather, though Roo wasn’t certain in what capacity. He was certain it wasn’t accounting. For a brief instant Roo wondered if the Quegans would hang the entire party if the boys were accused of being spies, or just him.

The brothers didn’t resemble each other much, Jimmy looking mostly like his grandmother, fine-boned and with pale hair, while Dash, like his father, Lord Arutha, with a mass of curly brown hair and a broad open face. But they shared more than most brothers in attitude and cunning. And he knew where they got that attitude: from their grandfather.

‘Eagles,’ said Jimmy. ‘Or something like them.’

‘I thought they were only a legend,’ said Dash.

‘What are they?’ asked Jimmy.

‘Giant birds of prey, harnessed and ridden like ponies.’

‘Someone’s riding on them?’ asked Roo in disbelief, as the ship was hauled into the quay by dock workers catching ropes tossed to them by deckhands.

‘Little people,’ said Jimmy. ‘Men who have been chosen for generations for their tiny size.’

Dash said, ‘Legend has it that a Dragon Lord flew them as birds of prey, as you or I might fly a falcon, ages ago. These are the descendants of those birds.’

Roo said, ‘You could do a lot with a flock of those in battle.’

‘Not really,’ suggested Jimmy. ‘They can’t carry much and they tire easily.’

‘You suddenly know a great deal about them,’ suggested Roo.

‘Rumors, nothing more,’ said Jimmy with a grin.

‘Or reports on your grandfather’s desk?’ suggested Roo.

Dash said, ‘Look at the reception committee.’

Jimmy said, ‘Whatever you wrote, Mr Avery, it seems to have done the trick.’

Roo said, ‘I merely informed Lord Vasarius I had something of value that belonged to him, and wished to give it back.’

The gangway was rolled out, and as Roo made to leave, the ship’s Captain put a restraining hand on his chest. ‘Better to do this by custom, Mr Avery, sir.’

The Captain called ashore. ‘Mr Avery and party from Krondor. Have they leave to come ashore?’

A large delegation of Quegans stood waiting, surrounding a man in a litter, carried by a dozen muscular slaves. Each wore a robe with a fancy drape that hung over one shoulder, what Roo had been told was called a toga. In the cold months, the locals wore wool tunic and trousers, but in the hot months of spring, summer, and early fall, this light cotton garb was the preferred dress of the wealthy. One of the men said in the King’s Tongue, ‘Please come ashore as our guest, Mr Avery and party.’

The Captain said, ‘Who speaks?’

‘Alfonso Velari.’

The Captain removed his hand from Roo’s chest. ‘You are now invited to set foot on Quegan soil, Mr Avery. You’re a free man until that Velari fellow withdraws his protection. By custom he’s supposed to let you know a day in advance. We’ll be waiting here, ready to up anchor and set sail at a moment’s notice.’

Roo regarded the man, one of his many ship’s masters, named Bridges, and said, ‘Thank you, Captain.’

‘We’re at your disposal, sir.’

As he stepped on the gangway, Roo overheard Dash mumble to Jimmy, ‘Of course he’s at Roo’s disposal. Roo owns the ship!’

Jimmy laughed softly, and the brothers fell silent.

Roo walked down the gangway and stopped before Velari. He was a short man of middle years, with hair cut close to his head and oiled. Roo was reminded of Tim Jacoby, for he also had sported a Quegan style of hair. ‘Mr Avery?’ asked the Quegan.

‘At your service, sir.’

‘Not mine, gentle Mr Avery. I am but one of many servants to Lord Vasarius.’

‘Is that Lord Vasarius in the litter?’ asked Roo.

The Quegan returned an indulgent smile. ‘The litter is to transport you to Lord Vasarius’s home, Mr Avery.’ He made a gesture that indicated Roo should enter the litter. ‘Porters will secure your baggage and bring it to my master’s home.’

Roo glanced at Dash and Jimmy, who nodded briefly. Roo said, ‘I was planning on staying at one of your city’s better inns …’

Velari made a sweeping gesture with his hand, as if to brush aside the remark. ‘There are none, sir. Only common travelers and seamen stay at our public houses. Men of rank always guest with other men of rank.’

As if that settled the matter, he held aside the litter’s curtain and Roo awkwardly entered. Instantly he was inside, the litter was picked up by the eight slaves, and the procession set off.

Roo could see the city of Queg as he was carried through. He glanced behind and saw that Jimmy and Dash were having no trouble keeping up, and he settled in to view the splendor of the Quegan capital.

One of Queg’s greatest exports lay in quarries at the center of the island. Marble of unsurpassed quality was cut there and exported at great expense to nobles in the Kingdom, Kesh, and the Free Cities who wanted impressive façades on their homes, or stunning fireplaces. But here it was used everywhere. The common buildings seemed to be fashioned from stone and plaster, but the larger buildings on the tops of the surrounding hills all glistened white in the morning sun.

Already the day was warm, and Roo wished he had cooler clothing. The tales about the climate here were understated if anything. While the weather in Krondor was still brisk in the morning and mild in the afternoon, here it was almost like summer. Rumor had it that much of the warm currents that surrounded the island came from undersea volcanoes, venting nearby. It had been said on more than one occasion by those to whom Roo spoke that occasionally prayers were said to Prandur, Burner of Cities, that the entire island should blow up.

Despite the Quegans’ reputation as a people hostile to outsiders and generally unpleasant to deal with, the common folk of the city seemed much like those of Krondor to Roo. The only marked difference was dress, as the laborers wore only breechclouts and headbands as they loaded and unloaded cargo at the docks, and the common workers wore short tunics of what looked to be a light spun wool, and cross-gartered sandals.

Occasionally Roo spied a noble in a toga, but mostly the men affected the short tunic. Roo saw women wearing long skirts, but with their arms bare and their heads uncovered.

The sounds of the city were much like those of Krondor, though horses seemed rare. Roo judged a population of this size must require that a very high percentage of the land be put under cultivation, which wouldn’t leave much room for grazing non-food animals. Horses on Queg would be a luxury.

The party wended its way up a series of hills until at last it reached a large building behind a high stone wall. The gate opened and they were admitted by two guards wearing the traditional Quegan military uniform: breastplate, greaves, shortsword, and helm. Roo realized they looked similar in attire to the legendary Legionaries of the Keshian Inner Legions. He had practiced Legionary tactics when he had served with Calis’s Crimson Eagles, and he knew much about them. But this was as close as he had come to ever seeing one.

As the litter was gently deposited on the stones before the entrance to the building, Roo considered it likely it was as close as he was ever likely to get to a genuine member of the Keshian Inner Legions. Rumor had it that they were still the finest body of soldiers in the world, despite their never having ventured outside the immediate vicinity of the Overn Deep, the inland sea upon which the city of Kesh had been built ages before. Absently Roo wondered if their reputation was earned, or the legacy of ancient conquest.

The language of Queg was a variant of the ancient Keshian spoken at the time of the Empire’s withdrawal from the Bitter Sea, so it was related to the languages of Yabon and the Free Cities. It was also similar enough to the language spoken in the land of Novindus that Roo could understand most of what was being said around him.

He thought it best to feign ignorance.

As he exited the litter, a young woman slowly walked down the three stone steps that led to the wide entrance to the building. She wasn’t beautiful, but she was regal. Slender, self-assured, and possessed of an attitude that spoke volumes of her contempt for this alien merchant who stood before her, all the while masking that contempt behind a welcoming smile.

‘Mr Avery,’ she said in accented King’s Tongue.

‘I am,’ said Roo with a noncommittal half-bow.

‘I am Livia, daughter to Vasarius. My father has asked me to show you to your quarters. Your servants will be seen to.’ As she turned away, Jimmy stepped forward and cleared his throat.

The young woman turned. ‘Yes?’

‘I am Mr Avery’s personal secretary,’ said Jimmy before Roo could comment.

The girl raised one eyebrow, but simply turned, and Roo took that as acquiescence to his coming with Roo. Softly Roo said, ‘You’re my what?’

Jimmy whispered back, ‘I won the coin toss. Dash gets to be your servant.’

Roo nodded. One inside with Roo, one outside to see what there was to see. Roo was certain that Lord James had other tasks for these two beyond seeing that Roo didn’t end up dead or chained to a galley oar.

Roo and Jimmy were led into a large entrance area, open to the sky, then through a series of hallways. Roo quickly decided the building was a hollow square, and his suspicions were verified when he glimpsed a garden through a doorway off to one side.

The girl led them to a large apartment, with a pair of beds, surrounded by white netting, and a large bathing pool that was built into the floor. The room overlooked the wall to the city, and Queg could be seen below in the distance, while the nearby houses were blocked from view. Privacy and panorama, thought Roo. Livia said, ‘These will be your quarters. Bathe and change. Servants will show you to our table for dinner. Rest until then.’

She walked off without further comment, ignoring Roo’s thanks. Jimmy smiled as a young man took his bag from his hand and started to unpack. He winked at Roo and inclined his head slightly.

A young girl was unpacking Roo’s belongings, including the wooden case containing the rubies. She set them aside on a table as if they were but another possession, took his clothing and went to what appeared to be a blank wall of marble. She pressed lightly and a door popped open, revealing a wardrobe.

Roo said, ‘That’s amazing,’ and moved to inspect the handiwork. ‘Jimmy, look at this.’

Jimmy came to see what Roo was pointing to, and saw that a slab of marble, cut thin but still more than a man’s weight, was cleverly hinged and counterweighted, so the door moved almost effortlessly.

Roo pointed to the hinges. ‘Very well engineered.’

‘Expensive,’ said Jimmy.

The girl barely suppressed a giggle, and Roo said, ‘Our host is among the wealthiest men in Queg.’

The boy who had unpacked Jimmy’s baggage and put his belongings in a chest near the foot of one of the beds came to stand next to the girl and waited.

Roo was uncertain exactly what came next, but Jimmy said, ‘We can bathe ourselves, thank you. It is our custom. If we may have some privacy.’

Without any expression the two young people waited. Jimmy pantomimed bathing and pointed to himself and Roo, and then to the servants and the door. The servants bowed and retired from the room. Roo said, ‘Bath servants?’

‘Very common here and in Kesh. Remember, they are slaves, so living in the luxury of a house like this is dependent on pleasing the master and his guests. Even the slightest fault might earn one of them a quick trip to a brothel along the docks, or the quarry, or anywhere else strong young slaves are needed.’

Roo looked appalled. ‘I never thought much about it.’

‘Most people in the Kingdom don’t.’ Jimmy began undressing. ‘If you don’t want to share the bath, I can go first or wait.’

Roo shook his head. ‘I’ve shared cold rivers with other men, and that pool is big enough for six of us.’

They stripped and entered the water. Roo looked around and said, ‘Where’s the soap?’

‘This is Queg,’ said Jimmy, indicating a line of wooden sticks arrayed along the edge of the bath. ‘Scrape the dirt off with these.’

Roo longed for a cake of hand-milled Krondorian soap, and looked dubiously at the sticks as he picked one up and followed Jimmy’s lead. After a sea voyage of two weeks, he wasn’t as dirty as he had been many times in his life, but he was far from being fresh. But as Jimmy showed him how to use the stick, called a stigle in the local language, he found that the dirt came off quickly in the hot water.

His hair was another matter. Repeated ducking under the water didn’t seem to rid him of that not quite clean feeling, but then Jimmy pointed out most Quegan men oiled their hair.

‘What about the women?’ asked Roo.

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Jimmy as he rose from the pool and wrapped himself in a large bath sheet.

After they had dressed, they found nowhere to sit, so they lay down waiting for the call to dinner. Roo dozed a bit in the warm afternoon, until he was awoken by Jimmy.

‘Time to eat.’

Roo came to his feet and found Livia waiting for them at the door of their suite. He picked up the wooden case with the rubies inside, and moved to the door. As he started to greet her, the girl said, ‘Were the servants unsatisfactory?’

Roo had no idea what she was saying. Jimmy, however, said, ‘No, milady. We were weary and wished to rest.’

‘If you see one among the servers at the table whom you find desirable, mark that one by name and we shall send him or her to your room tonight.’

Roo said, ‘Ah … milady, I’m a married man.’

The girl looked over her shoulder as she led them down the hall. ‘This is a problem?’

‘In my nation it is,’ said Roo, blushing. While cheating on his wife with Sylvia seemed as natural to him as breathing, the thought of one of those young girls – or boys – being sent to his bed, much like an extra blanket, positively scandalized him.

Jimmy worked hard at not laughing.

The girl seemed indifferent as she led them into the dining room. The table was a long slab of marble, resting upon a matched set of ornately carved supports. Roo assumed that the table had been hauled into the room by a derrick and the roof added after this massive piece of stone had been installed inside. Along each side sat a half-dozen chairs, open-backed, little more than half-circles of matching stone with thick pillows upon them, small benches, really, thought Roo. One didn’t move the heavy chairs to sit and dine, one stepped over them. Livia pointed to a chair to the left of the man sitting at the head of the table, indicating Roo should sit there. Then she moved to the chair on her father’s right. Jimmy sat at the remaining place, to Roo’s left.

Lord Vasarius was an impressive man, thought Roo. His toga was worn off one shoulder, and Roo could see that despite his age he was still a powerfully built man. He had the shoulders of a wrestler and the arms of a blacksmith. He had sandy hair that had turned mostly grey, and he wore it oiled and close to his head. He did not rise or offer his hand in greeting, but merely inclined his chin. ‘Mr Avery,’ he said.

‘My lord,’ Roo returned, bowing as he would before the Prince.

‘Your message was cryptic, but the only thing of worth you might possibly have of mine in the Kingdom was a set of rubies stolen over a year ago. May I have them, please?’ He held out his hand.

Roo started to hand the case across the table, but a servant intercepted it and carried it the short distance to his master. He flipped open the case, briefly regarded the gems, then closed the case.

‘Thank you for returning my property. May I inquire how you came by it?’

Roo said, ‘As you may have heard, m’lord, I have purchased several different companies lately, and this item was discovered among the inventory of one of them. As there was no lawful bill of sale attached and as your name was prominently noted on the case, I assumed them to be stolen goods. I thought it best to return them personally, given their unique beauty and their value.’

Vasarius handed the case back to a servant without looking. ‘Their value is only that they were to have been a gift for my daughter on her most recent birthday. Both the servant who removed them from this house, and the captain of the ship that took him from our island, have been found and dealt with. I have only to discover to whom they were sold and all those hands who have soiled them until you returned them to me. All will die painfully.’

Thinking of his friend John Vinci, who had bought them from that Quegan captain, Roo said, ‘My lord, they were in an inventory box with other items of dubious origin. I doubt it possible to trace who dealt them along from the captain to myself. Why trouble yourself further, now they have been returned?’ Roo hoped Lord Vasarius listened. Obviously the now-dead captain hadn’t implicated John, else he and Roo would already be dead men.

Vasarius said, ‘My name was upon the box, Mr Avery. Any man who saw it knew it to be my property. Any man who did not return it as you have done is a man without honor, a thief, and one who should be thrown to the animals in the arena, or tortured slowly.’

Roo considered that he had been among those attempting to sell the stones and the only reason he had been distracted from that undertaking was the murder of his father-in-law. He maintained an indifferent manner. ‘Well, m’lord, perhaps that is as it should be, but now that you have those gems back, at least that portion of the affront has been somewhat lessened.’

‘Somewhat,’ agreed Roo’s host as the servants began bringing out the evening meal. ‘As I haven’t been able to find those others besides the captain who insulted my honor, it may be a moot point.’

Roo sat motionless, hoping against hope that was the case, as he was served by young men and women, all attractive by any measure. Whatever other vices Lord Vasarius might have, it was clear he enjoyed the beauty of youth on every hand.

For all the splendor of the setting, Roo found the fare at Lord Vasarius’s table rather plain. Fruits and wine were served, and some flat bread with butter and honey, but the cheese was bland, the wine unspectacular, and the lamb overcooked. Still, Roo dined as if it were the finest meal he had ever tasted; the gods knew he had eaten far worse with gusto in his soldiering days.

There was almost no conversation over dinner, and Roo caught a few meaningful glances pass between Livia and her father. Jimmy seemed bored, but Roo knew he was noting every detail he could. When at last the meal came to an end, Vasarius leaned forward and summoned a servant bearing a tray with a goblet and metal cups.

Roo found the notion of drinking brandy from a metal cup odd, as a metallic flavor was imparted to the drink, but he ignored it, being nothing of the wine purist most people born in Ravensburg were. Besides, not offending his host was far more critical.

Vasarius raised his goblet, said, ‘To your health,’ and drank.

Roo did as well and said, ‘You’re most kind.’

Vasarius said, ‘Now, to the matter of what you expect in repayment for returning my property to me, Mr Avery.’

Roo said, ‘I expect no repayment, m’lord. I merely wished for an opportunity to visit Queg and explore the possibility of trade.’

Vasarius regarded Roo a moment. ‘When I received your letter,’ he said, ‘I was inclined to believe it another plot by Lord James to infiltrate our state. His predecessor was a clever man and again, by half, but James is a demon incarnate.’ Roo glanced at Jimmy to see if he was reacting to his grandfather’s being described that way, but Jimmy maintained a façade of indifference that suited his pose as Roo’s personal secretary. ‘I am willing to put that by, as your reputation precedes you. To return those rubies is of little consequence to a man of your wealth, Mr Avery, but gaining a trading liaison in Queg, now that is something worth the price of such baubles.’

Vasarius took a drink of brandy, then said, ‘Do you know much of my people, Mr Avery?’

‘Little, I’m afraid,’ admitted Roo. In fact he had attempted to study as much about the Quegans as possible, but he felt feigning ignorance was far better for his own purposes.

Livia spoke in the Quegan dialect. ‘If you’re going to give a history lesson, Father, may I be excused. These barbarians sicken me.’

In Quegan, Lord Vasarius said, ‘Barbarians or not, they are guests. If you’re bored, take the young secretary and show him the garden. He’s pretty enough to be diverting. There’s a chance he might know a trick that’s new even to you.’ His tone hid nothing of his disapproval; it would have been evident even if Roo and James didn’t speak the language used.

Vasarius turned to Roo. ‘Forgive my daughter’s lapse of manners, but speaking the King’s Tongue is not something we do often here. It was only her teacher who insisted she learn the languages of our neighbors.’

‘He was a Kingdom-born slave,’ supplied the girl. ‘I think the son of some nobleman or another. So he claimed.’ To Jimmy she said, ‘Business bores me. Would you care to see the garden?’

Jimmy nodded, excused himself, and left Roo and Vasarius alone.

The lord of the house continued, ‘Most of those outside our borders know little of us. We are all that is left of a once proud and great tradition, the true inheritors of all that was once Great Kesh.’

Roo nodded as if hearing this for the first time.

‘We were founded as an outpost of the Empire, Mr Avery. This is important. We were not a colony, as was Bosania, what you know as the Free Cities and the Far Coast, or a conquered people as were those of the Jal-Pur or the Vale of Dreams. Those primitives who lived on this island were quickly absorbed by the garrison placed here to protect Keshian interests in the Bitter Sea.’

Raped by the soldiers and getting half-breed children, thought Roo. He had no doubt that the men living here when the Keshians showed up were either killed or enslaved.

‘The garrison was pure Keshian, men from the Inner Legions. The reason I point this out to you is that you of the Kingdom have often treated with Kesh’s Dog Soldiers. Their leader was Lord Vax, fourth son of the Emperor of Great Kesh.

‘When the legion was called home to crush the rebellion in the Keshian Confederacy, he refused to abandon his people. This was Kesh, and Queg has endured as the sole repository of that great culture since the fall of Bosania to the Kingdom. Those who sit upon the Throne of the Overn Deep are a fallen people, Mr Avery. They call themselves “Trueblood,” but they are a base and degenerate people.’

He stared at Roo, awaiting a reaction. Roo nodded and sipped his brandy.

Vasarius continued. ‘This is why we have few dealings with outsiders. We are mighty in culture, but otherwise we are a poor nation, surrounded on all sides by enemies.’

In other circumstances, Roo would have burst out laughing, as that phrase had been repeated to him so often it was something of a joke. But in the midst of this splendor, Roo understood. While there were many things of beauty, one couldn’t eat marble or gold. You had to trade. Yet this was a nation of people who distrusted, even feared outsiders.

Roo considered his words. ‘One must be careful with whom one is trading.’ He waited, then said, ‘Else one must consider the risk of contamination.’

Vasarius nodded. ‘You are very perceptive for … an outsider.’

Roo shrugged. ‘I am a businessman, first and foremost, and while I have been lucky, I have also had to live by my wits. I would not be here if I didn’t sense an opportunity for mutual gain.’

‘We do not permit many to trade in Queg, Mr Avery. In the history of our people there have been fewer than a dozen such concessions granted, and all have been to merchants in the Free Cities or from Durbin. Never has a Kingdom merchant been permitted such a privilege.’

Roo weighed his options. If this had been a Kingdom merchant or noble with whom he was speaking, he would have judged it time for a ‘gift,’ as bribery was part of doing business. But there was something about this man that warned him away from making such an offer. After a moment he said, ‘I would be content to remain in Krondor, and let my Quegan partner conduct the business at this end. I am a shipper, and a … cooperation with a Quegan of rank and influence would be beneficial. Also, there are cargoes that are difficult to secure anywhere else than Queg.’

Vasarius leaned forward, his voice dropping. ‘You surprise me. I assumed you wanted to establish a presence here in Queg, Mr Avery.’

Roo shook his head. ‘I would be quickly disadvantaged by your local businessmen, I am certain. No, I need the sure hand and practiced intelligence of a man known in Queg for his perspicacity and wisdom. Such a man would benefit from such an arrangement, as would I.’

Roo fell silent. Vasarius knew what he had to offer. He could bring in foodstuffs to make this the most lavish table in Queg. Wines unmatched in all the world. Silks from Kesh for his daughter and mistresses. Luxury items that these people obviously craved.

Roo glanced around the room. He knew why these buildings were marble: there was abundant marble on Queg. Wood was scarce. Most of the arable land had been cleared centuries ago for crops. Sheep were the livestock of choice, as you got more meat for less grass than with cattle. Everything about this meal tonight spoke of a people who had prospered, but at a price. No, Queg smelled ripe for imported luxury items from the Kingdom.

Vasarius said, ‘What do you offer?’

Roo said, ‘Almost anything you can imagine, m’lord.’ He paused, then he said, ‘Luxuries, rarities, and novelties.’ Vasarius didn’t blink. Roo spoke again. ‘Lumber, coal, and beef.’ A spark ignited in Vasarius’s eyes, and Roo knew he was now an equal player in this game. He felt a warm tingle of success begin to spread inside him; Roo was in his element. It was time to haggle.

Vasarius said, ‘What cargo would you wish to secure?’

‘Well, as a matter of fact I have a commission, which, should I fulfill it, would be a great beginning to any such trading association.’

‘What do you seek to buy?’

‘Fire oil.’

Vasarius blinked. It was the most overt reaction Roo had witnessed so far, and he knew that this was a man he didn’t want to face in a card game. But he knew he had surprised him.

‘Fire oil?’

‘Yes, I’m sure your intelligence has told you the Kingdom is preparing for war.’ He slipped into the speech James had had him memorize. ‘Kesh moves along the Vale again, and we fear it seeks to invade. With a new Prince in Krondor and no practiced General leading the Armies of the West, it would be prudent to equip as well as possible. We are training additional men for the Prince’s army and seek to bolster our defenses with fire oil. We know how to produce it, as I am sure you’re aware; it’s no longer a secret. But we lack facilities to produce it in sufficient volume to provide any viable amount.’

‘How much do you desire?’

‘Ten thousand barrels.’

Roo watched and again there were flickers in the man’s eyes: shock, followed almost at once by greed. Roo reconsidered, and wondered if he could get this man into a game of cards.