Raymond E. Feist - The King’s Buccaneer

They set the tub down in the center of the room and left. The troll opened the wardrobe and without hesitation selected a pair of trousers and a tunic that appeared the proper size for Nicholas. He then rooted around in the chest, beneath the linens, and produced a pair of under-trousers and hose. The two men of unusual color returned with large buckets and filled the tub with hot water, leaving a towel, brush, and a bar of scented soap.

The troll made an inquiring noise and pantomimed scrubbing Nicholas’s back. Nicholas said, ‘No, thank you. I can manage.’

With a satisfied-sounding grunt, the troll motioned for the others to leave and followed them out, closing the door behind.

Nicholas shook his head in silent amazement, then stripped off his very dirty clothing and got in the tub. The water was hot, but not too hot, and he lowered himself gently into it. When he was sitting, he indulged himself in a long sigh and leaned back. He savored the luxury of the hot bath after a week in the close quarters aboard ship. From down the hall he could hear Harry singing to himself as he began to bathe and decided he should get on with scrubbing himself before the water cooled too much. Shortly he was covered with lather and softly humming a countermelody to Harry’s more rambunctious vocalizing.

After a long, refreshing bath, Nicholas dressed and found the clothing laid out for him to fit almost as well as his own. He pulled on his boots and left the room. The hall was empty and he thought about disturbing the others; Harry still filled the air with his less than stunning voice.

He decided to wander a bit and explore. He entered the main house, passing through the main hallway, and turned through a doorway into the central garden. Like the one before the house, this garden was dominated by fruit trees and flowers, with small paths crossing from four central doors of the square, forming a cross. At the intersection of the two paths was set a fountain similar to the one before the house, and nearby was a small white stone bench. Pug sat there, speaking with a woman.

As he approached, Nicholas saw Pug look up and rise. ‘Highness, I have the pleasure of presenting a friend, the Lady Ryana.’ Turning to his companion, he said, ‘Ryana, this is Prince Nicholas, son of Arutha of Krondor.’

The woman rose and curtsied with precision, startling green eyes fixed upon the boy. Her age was unguessable, being somewhere between the late teens and early thirties; her features were finely chiseled, ‘aristocratic’ being the only word that Nicholas could think of; in her presence he felt that he was the lowborn and she the noble. But beautiful as she was, there was something in her manner and movement that could only be called alien: her hair was not blond but truly gold and her skin was ivory, yet almost glinted in the sunlight. Nicholas hesitated a moment, then bowed correctly, saying, ‘M’lady.’

Pug said, ‘Ryana is the daughter of an old friend, come to study awhile with me.’

‘Study?’

Pug nodded, indicating that Nicholas should sit where he had, while Pug sat upon the edge of the fountain. ‘Many of those here are servants or friends, but some are also students of mine.’

Nicholas said, ‘I thought you had built the academy at Stardock as a place of study.’

Pug smiled slightly, and there was a hint of irony in his voice as he said, ‘The academy is like most other human institutions, Nicholas, which means that as time passes, it will become more set in its ways, more concerned with “tradition,” and less willing to grow. I’ve seen firsthand the results of such attitudes, and don’t wish to see them repeated. But I have a limited influence at Stardock. It’s been seven years since my last visit, and eight since I lived among the magicians there. I left soon after my wife died.’ He looked at the sky, lost in thought. ‘My old friends Kulgan and Meecham are gone as well. My children have grown and are married. No, there are few at Stardock I feel compelled to visit.’

He waved his hand in an encompassing gesture. ‘Here I will take any who is worthy, and some are from other worlds. I doubt some you’ve already met would be welcome down there.’

Nicholas shook his head. ‘I guess.’ Attempting to be polite, he spoke to Ryana, ‘M’lady, are you from one of those distant worlds?’

Her voice carried alien notes. ‘No, I was born near here, Highness.’

Nicholas felt his skin crawl for reasons he could not put voice to. The woman was unusually beautiful by any standard, yet it was a beauty of another kind, something he could not be touched by. He smiled, for he could not think of another polite thing to say.

Pug seemed to sense his discomfort, so he said, ‘What do I owe the pleasure of this visit to, Nicholas? I was rather pointed in my request to your father that I be left undisturbed here.’

Nicholas blushed. ‘I really don’t know, Pug. Father said Nakor insisted, and for some reason Father felt compelled to honor his request. I’m on my way to Martin’s court at Crydee, to squire there for a while and … I guess get hardened on the frontier.’

Pug smiled, and again Nicholas felt calmed by the smile. ‘Well, it’s rough compared to Krondor, but Crydee is hardly the frontier. The town is twice the size it was when I was a boy, I have been told. And the Jonril garrison is now a major town. There’s a growing duchy out there. I think you’ll like it.’

Nicholas smiled and said, ‘I hope so,’ without a great deal of conviction. He attempted to keep his expression even, but for the last couple of days he had been visited by an unexpected homesickness. The novelty of the journey had worn off, and now the tedious voyage, with nothing to do but sit in his cabin or pace the deck, was taking its toll.

‘How are things at your father’s court?’ asked Pug.

Nicholas said, ‘Quiet. And busy. The usual. No wars or plagues or other crisis, if that’s what you mean.’ Looking at Pug’s face, he saw a questioning look. Nodding, Nicholas said, ‘Your son is now Knight-Marshal of Krondor.’

Pug nodded, his expression thoughtful. ‘William and I had a falling out over his choice to be a soldier. He has some strange and powerful gifts.’

Nicholas said, ‘Father told me something about it, but I’m not sure I understand.’

Pug’s smile returned. ‘I’m not sure I do, either, Nicholas. For all my skills, being a father – at least with William – may have been a little beyond me. I insisted he study at Stardock and he would have none of it.’ Pug shook his head and his expression turned rueful. ‘I was very demanding, and he left without my leave. Arutha gave him a commission because of his being a cousin. I’m glad to see he’s made something of himself.’

‘You should go see him,’ Nicholas said.

Pug smiled again. ‘Perhaps.’

Nicholas said, ‘I wanted to ask you something. Everyone calls William “Cousin Willie,” and I’ve heard you also referred to as a cousin. But I know my grandfather Borric had only three sons and no nephews …?’ He shrugged.

Pug said, ‘I did your grandfather some service when I was part of his household. I was an orphan boy, and when he thought me lost, he added my name to the family archives in Rillanon. As I was not formally adopted as his son, the King couldn’t refer to me as a brother, so “cousin” seemed appropriate. I don’t speak of such things – no one here is concerned over matters of patents and titles – but I am considered a prince of one sort or another in the Kingdom.’

Nicholas grinned. ‘Well, Highness, the other news is that your daughter has given birth to her third child.’

Pug’s smile broadened. ‘A boy?’

Nicholas said, ‘At last. Uncle Jimmy loves his two girls, but he really wanted a son this time.’