Raymond E. Feist - The King’s Buccaneer

Nicholas nodded and Nakor tossed the fruit to him. He gave another to Anthony. Then he handed the bag to Nicholas. ‘Look inside.’

Nicholas examined the large rucksack. He found it simple: black material, feeling like common felted wool. A leather drawstring had been sewn around the mouth of the bag, and a wooden frog and loop served as a clasp. The bag was empty. Handing it back, Nicholas said, ‘There’s nothing in it.’

Nakor reached in and withdrew a writhing snake. Anthony’s eyes widened and Nicholas scooted backward on the bench, until he hit the wall behind. ‘That’s a viper!’

With a wave of his hand, Nakor said, ‘This? It’s just a stick.’

In his hand was a simple piece of wood, which he put back in the bag; then again he tossed the bag to Nicholas. Nicholas examined it closely and said, ‘It’s empty.’ he handed the bag to Nakor. ‘How did you do that?’

Nakor grinned again. ‘It’s easy if you know the trick.’

Anthony shook his head. ‘He does some very impressive things, yet insists there is no magic’

Nakor nodded. ‘Maybe I’ll explain it to you someday, magician. Pug knows.’

Nicholas glanced over his shoulder at the walls above the courtyard and said, ‘I’ve been hearing a lot about Pug today, it seems.’

Anthony said, ‘He is something of a legend here. At Stardock, too. He left before I joined the community there.’

Nicholas said, ‘Well, you can’t have been a member for long; he’s only been gone from there about eight years.’

Anthony smiled. ‘I’m afraid I’m a very junior magician. The masters felt –’

‘Masters!’ snorted Nakor. ‘Those overblown fools Korsh and Watoom!’ Shaking his head, he sat down next to Anthony. ‘They were the reason I left Stardock.’ He pointed to Anthony as he looked at Nicholas. ‘This boy was quite gifted, but he is what those fools call a “lesser” magician. If I had stayed, I would have made him one of my Blue Riders!’ Grinning at Anthony, he said, ‘I sure made some trouble there, didn’t I?’

Anthony laughed, and Nicholas saw him look as young as Harry and himself. ‘That’s the truth. The Blue Riders are the most popular faction at Stardock, and there are some very bitter fights –’

‘Fights!’ exclaimed Nicholas. ‘Magicians fighting?’

Anthony said, ‘Student brawls, really. There are some older apprentices, who call themselves the Hands of Korsh – though he doesn’t care for that – who often start trouble in the taverns at Stardock. No one causes serious damage – the masters wouldn’t allow that – but it can result in a cracked head now and again.’ He sighed, remembering. ‘I wasn’t there long enough to become seriously involved with all that politics. I was having too much trouble with my studies. That’s why they sent me here, at Duke Martin’s request, because I’m not much of a magician.’

Nakor shook his head and made a face. ‘If you’re not much like them, that’s a good thing.’ He stood up. ‘I’m going to the woods to look for some things. I’ll see you at supper.’ He pointed to Anthony. ‘Put some salve on the boy’s foot, so it’ll be better tomorrow.’

Anthony said, ‘I have some things that might help.’

Without further word, Nakor scampered from the garden, leaving the young magician and Squire alone.

Nicholas was the first to speak. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever known a stranger person.’

Anthony said, ‘I’ve met a few strange ones at Stardock, but no one to rival Nakor.’

‘Was he one of your teachers at Stardock, before he left?’

Anthony shook his head and sat in the spot Nakor had just vacated. ‘Not really. I’m not sure what he was doing there, except causing trouble for Watoom and Korsh. The story is he showed up one day with a letter from Prince Borric and some claim that Pug told him to come to Stardock. He stayed about three or four years, and did some strange things, mostly converting a lot of students to the notion that everyone could learn magic – or what he calls “tricks” – and that magicians were not very bright for not being able to understand this.’ Anthony sighed. ‘I had problems of my own at the time, and didn’t pay too much attention. I was a new student and saw Nakor only two or three times, around the island.’

Nicholas said, ‘Is it true that they sent you because you weren’t very good?’

Anthony said, ‘I suspect as much. There were many more gifted students than I, and no small number of accomplished master magicians living at Stardock.’

Nicholas’s face darkened. ‘That’s close to an insult, you know.’

Anthony’s face flushed. ‘I didn’t.’

Nicholas said, ‘I don’t mean to belittle you, Anthony. You may be more talented than you think. At least, Nakor says you are,’ he added quickly. Both knew it sounded a weak attempt to smooth over the remark. ‘But the King’s brother requested a magician, to fill a post once held by Pug’s teacher. They should have sent one of their best.’

Anthony stood up. ‘Perhaps.’ His manner was stiff, caught between embarrassment and insult. He flushed a little as he said, ‘Stardock doesn’t feel it owes much allegiance to the Kingdom, I’m afraid. If Pug were still there, that might be one thing, him being a cousin to the King and all, but as it is today, Korsh and Watoom have a great deal of influence among the masters and they are from Kesh. They’d like to keep Stardock out of politics on both sides of the border, I think.’

Nicholas said, ‘That might not be a bad idea, I guess, but it’s still rude.’

Anthony said, ‘If you come with me, I have some salves that may hasten your recuperation; at the least, they won’t cause any problems even if they don’t help.’

Nicholas followed the young magician. Glancing around the garden, he again regretted that the girls were nowhere in sight.

The weeks passed with surprising speed. Each day was full of duties from dawn to dusk, and Nicholas discovered that the hectic pace was to his liking. Being busy kept him from brooding, a trait inherited from his father. The strenuous routine of constantly being on the move, of having to pitch in with much of the physical labor, was hardening his youthful frame as well. Always fit from riding and sword practice, he was now gaining strength to go with his speed. After his first day hauling arms and armor out for cleaning and having to lug it all back into the armory, he thought he was going to die. Now he could carry twice the load and feel little strain.

The work seemed to agree with Harry, too, though he reveled in complaining whenever he had the chance. In the three weeks since coming to Crydee, both boys had found little time to spend with Margaret and Abigail, though Harry had found a bit more than Nicholas. He delighted in playing upon Nicholas’s anxiety over the young lady-in-waiting, sometimes teasing him to the point of anger. But most of their time was caught up in the seemingly endless routine of the court of Crydee. So far the only time Nicholas had found to pay court to Abigail was on Sixthday afternoons, and to his chagrin Marcus was always nearby.

The people of Castle Crydee took on individual identities to the boys from Krondor. The kitchen staff was friendly, the other servants respectful and distant. The younger serving girls viewed Harry with a mixture of amusement and wariness, while a few watched Nicholas with open admiration, attention he found somewhat disquieting. Swordmaster Charles was interesting but always formal in speech and manner. Faxon was open and friendly, and Nicholas found him a good listener. Nakor and Ghuda were rarely in evidence, always seeming to find something in town or the nearby woods to occupy their time. Slowly the alien quality that had overwhelmed Nicholas upon first arriving was wearing off, and while Crydee would never feel like home, it was becoming familiar. And Abigail occupied more of Nicholas’s thoughts than any girl he had previously known. On those rare occasions he could find her without Marcus hovering by she was warm and attentive, and left him with conflicting feelings that he was making a total ass of himself and that she really cared for his company.