Magician (113 page)

“Still, you would make a better
king.” Lyam caught Arutha’s gaze and held it.

Arutha paused, frowned, then fixed his
brother with a skeptical look. “Perhaps, but you are to be
King, and I expect you will remain King for quite some time.”
He stretched as he rose. “I am for bed. It has been a long and
hard day.” Nearing the entrance to the tent, he said, “Ease
your doubts, Lyam. You will be a good ruler. With Caldric to advise
you, and the others, Kulgan, Tully, and Pug, you will lead us through
this time of rebuilding.”

Lyam said, “Arutha, before you go
. . .” Arutha waited, as Lyam made a decision. “I wish
you to go with Kulgan and Pug to Sorcerer’s Isle. You’ve
been there once before, and I’d like your judgment on what is
found there.” Arutha was displeased and started to object. Lyam
cut him off. “I know you wish to go to Krondor, but it will
take only a few days. There will be twelve days between the time we
reach Rillanon and the coronation, ample time for you to join us.”

Arutha again began to object, then with
a wry smile, acceded. “Trust in yourself, Lyam. If I won’t
take the crown, you’re left with it.” As he departed the
tent, he added with a laugh, “There’s no other brother to
claim it.”

Lyam sat alone, absently sipping at his
wine. With another long sigh he said to himself, “There is one
other, Arutha, and may the gods help me decide what is right to do.”

T
he
ship dropped anchor.

The crew secured the sails aloft while
the landing party made ready Meecham watched the preparation of the
longboat. The magicians were anxious to reach the castle of Macros,
for they had more questions than the others. Arutha was also curious,
after resigning himself to the voyage. He found he also had little
desire to take part in the long funeral procession that had left from
Ylith the day they sailed. He had buried his grief for his father
deep inside and would deal with it in his own time. Laurie had stayed
with Kasumi to aid the assimilation of the Tsurani soldiers into the
LaMutian garrison, and would meet them later in Rillanon.

Lyam and his nobles had shipped for
Krondor, escorting the bodies of Borric and Rodric. They would be
joined by Anita and Carline, then all would convey the dead in a
procession of state to Rillanon, where they would be laid to rest in
the tomb of their ancestors. After the traditional period of twelve
days’ mourning, Lyam would be crowned King. By then all who
would attend the coronation would have gathered in Rillanon. Pug and
Kulgan’s business should be completed in ample time for them to
reach the capital.

The boat was readied, and Arutha, Pug,
and Kulgan joined Meecham. The longboat was lowered, and six guards
bent their backs to the oars.

The sailors had been greatly relieved
that they were not required to accompany the landing party, for in
spite of the magicians’ reassurances, they had no desire to set
foot upon Sorcerer’s Isle.

The boat was beached, and the
passengers stepped out. Arutha looked about. “There seems to
have been no change here since we last came.”

Kulgan stretched, for the ship’s
quarters had been cramped, and he enjoyed the sensation of dry land
under his feet again. “I would have been surprised to find it
otherwise. Macros was one to keep his house in order, I wager.”

Arutha turned and said, “You six
will stay here. If you hear our call, come quickly.” The Prince
started toward the path up the hill, and the others fell in without
comment. They reached the place where the path forked, and Arutha
said, “We come as guests. I thought it best not to appear
invaders.”

Kulgan said nothing, being occupied
with observing the castle they were approaching. The strange blue
light that had been so visible when they had last visited the island
was absent from the window of the high tower. The castle had the look
of a place deserted, without movement or sound. The drawbridge was
down and the portcullis raised. Meecham observed, “At least we
won’t have to storm the place.”

When they reached the edge of the
drawbridge, they halted. The castle rose above them, its high walls,
and taller towers, forbidding. It was built of dark stone, unfamiliar
to them. Around the great arch over the bridge, strange carvings of
alien creatures regarded them with fixed gazes. Horned and winged
beasts sat perched atop ledges, seemingly frozen in an instant, so
cleverly were they fashioned.

They stepped on the bridge and crossed
the deep ravine that separated the castle from the rest of the island
Meecham looked down, seeing the rock walls of the crevice fall away
to the level of the sea, where waves crashed through the passage
between. “It serves better than most moats I’ve seen.
You’d think twice before trying to cross this while someone was
shooting at you from the walls.”

They entered the court and looked
about, as if expecting to see someone appear at one of the many doors
in the walls at any moment. Nowhere was there sign of any living
creature, yet the grounds about the central keep were well tended and
in order.

When no one was forthcoming, Pug said,
“I imagine we’ll find what we’re after in the
keep.” The others moved with him toward the broad stairs that
led to the main doors. As they mounted the steps, the large doors
began to swing open, until they could all see a figure standing in
the darkness beyond. As the doors finished their movement with a loud
thump against the keep walls, the figure stepped forward into the
sunlight.

Meecham’s sword was in his hand
without thinking, for the creature before them bore a strong
resemblance to a goblin. After a brief examination, Meecham put up
his weapon; the creature had made no threatening gesture, but simply
stood waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

It was taller than the average goblin,
being nearly Meecham’s height. Thick ridges dominated its
forehead, and a large nose was the focus of its face, but it was
nobler in features than a goblin. Two black, twinkling eyes regarded
them as they resumed their climb. As they came up to it, the creature
gave a toothy grin. Its head was covered with a thick mat of black
hair, and its skin was tinged with the faint green of the goblin
tribe, but it lacked the hunched-shouldered posture of a goblin,
instead standing erect much like a man. It wore a finely fashioned
tunic and trousers, both bright green. Upon its feet were a pair of
polished black boots, reaching nearly to its knees.

The creature said, grinning, “Welcome,
masters, welcome. I am Gathis, and I have the honor of acting as your
host in my master’s absence.” There was a slight hiss to
its speech.

Kulgan said, “Your master is
Macros the Black?”

“Of course. It has been ever
thus. Please enter.”

The four men accompanied Gathis into
the large entry hall and stopped to look about. Except for the
absence of people and of the usual heraldic banners, this hall looked
much like the one in Castle Crydee.

“My master has left explicit
instructions for your visit, as much as was possible to anticipate,
so I have prepared the castle for your arrival. Would you care for
some refreshments? There are food and wine ready.”

Kulgan shook his head. He was unsure of
what this creature was, but he was not overly comfortable with
anything that so resembled a servant of the Dark Brotherhood. “Macros
said there would be a message. I would see it at once.”

Gathis bowed slightly. “As you
will. Please come with me.”

He led them along a series of corridors
to a flight of stairs that spiraled up into the large tower. They
mounted the steps and soon came to a locked door. “My master
said you would be able to open this door. Should you fail, you are
impostors, and I am to deal with you harshly.”

Meecham gripped his sword at hearing
this, but Pug placed his hand on the big franklin’s arm. “Since
the rift is closed, half my power is lost, that which I gained from
Kelewan, but this should prove no obstacle.”

Pug concentrated upon opening the door.
Instead of the usual response of the door swinging open, a change
occurred in the door itself. The wood seemed to become fluid, flowing
and ebbing as it fashioned its surface into a new form. In a few
moments a face could be seen, formed in the wood. It looked like a
bas-relief, with a slight resemblance to Macros. It was very lifelike
in detail and appeared to be asleep. Then its eyelids opened, and
they could see that the eyes were alive, black centers showing
against white. Its mouth moved, and a voice issued from it, the sound
deep and resonant as it spoke in perfect Tsurani. “What is the
first duty?”

Without thinking, Pug answered, “To
serve the Empire.”

The face flowed back into the door, and
when there was no trace of it before them, the door swung aside. They
entered and found themselves in the study of Macros the Black, a
large room occupying the entire top of the tower.

Gathis said, “I take it I have
the honor of hosting Masters Kulgan, Pug, and Meecham?” He then
studied the fourth member of the party. “And you must be Prince
Arutha?” When they nodded, he said, “My master was unsure
if Your Highness would attend, though he thought it likely. He was
certain the other three gentlemen would be here.” He indicated
the room with a sweep of his hand. “All that you see is at your
disposal. If you will excuse me, I will return with your message and
some refreshments.”

Gathis left, and all four looked at the
contents of the room. Except for one bare wall where it was obvious
that a bookcase or cupboard had recently been removed, the entire
room was surrounded with tall shelves from floor to ceiling, all
heavily laden with books and scrolls. Pug and Kulgan were almost
paralyzed by indecision about where to begin their investigation.

Arutha solved that problem by crossing
over to a shelf where lay a large parchment bound with a red ribbon.
He took it down and laid it upon the round table in the center of the
room. A shaft of sunlight from the room’s single large window
fell across the parchment as he unrolled it.

Kulgan came over to see what he had
found “It is a map of Midkemia!”

Pug and Meecham crossed over to stand
behind Kulgan and Arutha. “Such a map!” Prince Arutha
exclaimed “I have never seen its like.” His finger
stabbed at a spot upon a large landmass in the center “Look!
Here is the Kingdom.” Across a small portion of the map were
inscribed the words
Kingdom of the Isles.
Below could be seen
the larger borders of the Empire of Great Kesh. To the south of the
Empire, the states of the Keshian Confederacy were clearly shown.

“To the best of my knowledge,”
said Kulgan, “few from the Kingdom have ever ventured into the
Confederacy. Our only knowledge of its members is through the Empire
and a few of our more venturesome captains who’ve visited some
of their ports. We hardly know the names of these nations, and
nothing about them.”

Pug said, “We learn much about
our world in an instant. Look at how small a part of this continent
the Kingdom is.” He pointed to the great sweep of the
Northlands to the north of the Kingdom, and the far-reaching mass of
land below the Confederacy. The entire continent bore the inscription
Triagia
.

Kulgan said, “It appears there is
a great deal more to our Midkemia than we had dreamed.” He
indicated additional landmasses across the sea. These were labeled
Wiñet
and
Novindus
. Upon each, cities and states
were delineated. Two large chains of islands were also shown, many
with cities marked. Kulgan shook his head. “There have been
rumors of traders from far distant lands, venturing into the trading
ports in the Keshian Confederacy, or treating with the pirates of
Sunset Islands, but they are only rumors. It is small wonder we have
never heard of these places. It would be a brave captain who set his
ship upon a course for so far a port.”

They were brought out of their study by
the sound of Gathis returning to the room. He carried a tray with a
decanter and four wine cups. “My master bade me say that you
are to enjoy the hospitality of his home as long as you desire.”
He placed the tray on the table and poured wine into the cups. He
then removed a scroll from within his tunic and handed it to Kulgan.
“He bade me give you this. I will retire while you consider my
master’s message. Should you need me, simply speak my name, and
I will return quickly.” He bowed slightly and left the room.

Kulgan regarded the scroll. It was
sealed with black wax, impressed with the letter M. He broke the seal
and unrolled the parchment. He started to read to himself, then said,
“Let us sit.”

Pug rolled up the large map and put it
away, then returned to the table where the others were sitting. He
pulled out a chair and waited with Meecham and Arutha while Kulgan
read. Kulgan shook his head slowly. “Listen,” he said,
and read aloud:

“ ‘To the magicians Kulgan
and Pug, greetings. I have anticipated some of your questions and
have endeavored to answer them as best I can. I fear there are others
that must go begging, as much about myself must remain known only to
me. I am not what the Tsurani would call a Great One, though I have
visited that world, as Pug knows, upon a number of occasions. My
magic is peculiar to myself and defies description in your terms of
Greater and Lesser Paths Suffice it to say I am a walker of many
paths.

“ ‘I see myself as a
servant of the gods, though that may be only my vanity speaking.
Whatever the truth is, I have traveled to many lands and worked for
many causes.

“ ‘Of my early life I will
say little. I am not of this world, having been born in a land
distant both in space and time. It is not unlike this world, but
there are ample reasons to count it strange by your standards.