The King's Buccaneer Read online

  Within an hour of Arutha’s telling Nicholas and Harry they were bound for Crydee with Amos, the thousand and one details of making ready for the voyage sent the household into a near state of panic. Yet with practice born of a thousand state occasions, the Royal Steward and his host of squires, pages, and servants rose to the occasion, and Arutha knew that when the ship left the following day, everything the Prince and his companion needed would be aboard.

  The Royal Eagle lay ready to carry the arms and stores needed by the new garrison that Duke Martin was establishing. Amos was assuming command, and they would leave for Crydee on the early morning tide. The decision to leave so abruptly was made both because Arutha did not want time to second-guess his choice, and to take advantage of the favorable weather. The infamous Straits of Darkness would be navigable for the next few months, but fall would be upon Amos by the time he left for his return voyage. Once heavy weather set in, the straits between the Bitter Sea and the Endless Sea were too dangerous to attempt except in the most extreme need.

  Amos walked down the long hall that led from the guest quarters. In the years he had lived in Krondor, he had never bothered to secure private lodgings outside the palace, as had most of the Prince’s staff. He was the only member of the Prince’s circle of advisers and commanders who was unmarried and did not require a place apart from court demands for a family. As he was at sea nearly three-quarters of the time, anyway, the days he stayed in the palace were few in any event.

  But now he was wrestling with the notion of how his life would change after this voyage. He stood a moment, hesitating, then knocked upon the door. A servant quickly answered and, seeing the Admiral without, pulled the door wide. Amos entered and found Alicia sitting upon a divan before a wide glass doorway that gave upon her private balcony, opened to admit the morning breeze. She rose and smiled as he crossed to her.

  He took her hand and kissed her cheek. While the servants knew well he had spent the night in this very apartment, they observed the pretense of not knowing in the name of court protocol. Amos had snuck out of the rooms before dawn and had returned to his own quarters. He had changed and journeyed to the harbor for a quick inspection of the Royal Eagle.

  “Amos,” said the Dowager Princess. “I didn’t expect to see you until this evening.”

  Amos was at a loss for words, which surprised Alicia. She had understood something was on his mind last night, for while he had been ardent, he had also been somewhat distracted. Several times he had appeared to be on the brink of saying something, only to switch into some inconsequential question or statement.

  He glanced around, and when it was clear they were alone, he sat heavily beside her. Taking her hands in his own, he said, “Alicia, my darling, I’ve given the matter some thought—”

  “What matter?” she interrupted.

  “Let me finish,” he said. “If I don’t get this out, I’m likely to lose my nerve, hoist sail, and leave.”

  She tried not to smile, for he seemed very serious. But she had a good idea of what was next.

  “I’m getting on in age—”

  “You’re still a youngster,” she said playfully.

  “Dammit, woman, this is difficult enough without your trying to flatter me!” His tone was more exasperation than anger, so she was not offended. Her eyes betrayed a merry glint while she kept a straight face.

  “I’ve done many things I’m not proud of, Alicia, and some I’ve confessed to you. Others I’d just as soon forget.” He paused, searching for words. “So, if you’re not of a mind to, I’ll understand and take no offense.”

  “Mind to what, Amos?”

  Amos almost blushed as he blurted, “Marry.”

  Alicia laughed and squeezed his hands tightly. She leaned forward and kissed him. “Silly man. Whom else would I marry? It’s you I’m in love with.”

  Amos grinned. “Well then, that’s it, isn’t it?” He threw his arms around her and held her close. “You’re not going to regret this, are you?”

  “Amos, at my age I’ve had my share of regrets, I can assure you. I married Erland because he was the King’s brother and my father was the Duke of Timons, not because I felt anything for him. I came to love my husband, for he was a kind and lovable man, but I was never in love with him. When he died, I assumed that love would be something I would watch in others younger than I. Then you showed up.” He sat back, and she gripped his chin in her hand, playfully shaking his head as she would a child’s. Then her hand went to his cheek and she caressed it. “No, I haven’t enough time left for making poor choices. For all your rough edges, you’ve a quick mind and a generous heart, and whatever you did in the past is in the past. You’ve been the only grandfather my grandchildren have known—though they know better than to say it to your face—but that’s how they feel. No, this is no mistake.” She leaned into his arms and again he held her tight. Amos sighed in contentment.

  Alicia felt tears of happiness gather in her eyes, and she blinked them back. Amos had never been comfortable with open displays of emotion. Their relationship had been intimate for years now, but she had understood Amos’s reticence in making a proposal, for she knew him a man not given to close attachments. That he cared for Arutha and his family was clear, yet there was always a part of Amos that was distant. She knew that he held back, and nothing she could do would force him to give freely. Age had lent her a wisdom many younger women would not have understood. She had not wished to drive Amos off by asking him to choose between his love for her and his love for the sea.

  Amos reluctantly released his hold on her. “Well, much as I would love to stay awhile, I have been given a mission by your daughter’s husband.”

  “You’re leaving again? But you only just got here.” There was genuine disappointment in her voice.

  “Yes, true. But Nicholas is to go to Martin’s court for a year or two of seasoning, and some stores must be taken to the new garrison at Barran on the northwest coast.” He looked into her green eyes and said, “It’s my last voyage, love. I’ll not be gone long, and then you’ll find how quickly you grow tired of having me underfoot all the time.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “Hardly. You’ll find much to keep you busy on my estates. We’ll have lands to tend, tenants to supervise, and I doubt Arutha will let you stay away from court more than a month at a time. He values your insights and opinions.”

  They talked for a while, and then Amos said, “We have much to do. I must ensure the ship is ready, and you and Anita will no doubt wish to get about the business of a wedding.”

  They parted and Amos walked away from her apartment, feeling both elation and an unusual desire to keep sailing west once he dropped Nicholas off. He loved Alicia like no other woman he had met in this life, but the prospect of marriage was more than a little frightening to the old bachelor.

  He almost knocked over Ghuda Bulé as he rounded a corner. The grey-haired mercenary backed away, bowing awkwardly. “Excuse me, sir.”

  Amos paused. Switching to the Keshian language, he said, “No excuse needed…”

  “Ghuda Bulé, sir.”

  “Ghuda,” finished Amos. “My mind was other places and I wasn’t watching my way.”

  Ghuda’s eyes narrowed and he said, “Forgive me, sir, but I think I know you.”

  Amos rubbed his chin. “I’ve been to Kesh a time or two.”

  Ghuda smiled an ironic smile. “I was a caravan guard, mostly; there’s little of Kesh I haven’t seen.”

  Amos said, “Well, it would have been a port, for I’ve never been farther inland in Kesh than I needed to be. Perhaps in Durbin.”

  Ghuda shrugged. “Perhaps.” He glanced around. “My companion has vanished, as he does from time to time, so I thought I’d gawk a bit.” He shook his head. “I was in the Empress’s palace in the City of Kesh some years ago, when I traveled with your Prince’s son.” He glanced at the high vaulted windows that looked out over the landward side of the city. “Very different here, yet
worth a look.”

  Amos grinned. “Well, get your fill of gawking, then. We leave at first light to catch the tide.”

  Ghuda’s eyes narrowed. “We leave?”

  Amos’s grin widened. “I’m Admiral Trask. Arutha told me you two would be traveling with us.”

  “Where are we going?” asked Ghuda.

  “Ha!” barked Amos. “Obviously that strange friend of yours hasn’t told you. You and he are coming with us, to Crydee.”

  Ghuda turned about slowly, talking to himself as much to Amos. “Of course he didn’t tell me. He never tells me anything.”

  Amos clapped him on the back in a friendly manner. “Well, I’m not sure why, but you’re welcome. You’ll have to share a cabin with the little man, but you seem used to his company. I’ll see you in the courtyard before dawn tomorrow.”

  “Of course we’ll be there.” After Amos left, Ghuda shook his head. In a sour tone he muttered, “Why are we going to Crydee, Ghuda? I haven’t the vaguest idea, Ghuda. Shall we go find Nakor, Ghuda? Certainly, Ghuda. Then shall we strangle him, Ghuda?” With a single nod of his head, he answered himself, “With great delight, Ghuda.”

  —

  NICHOLAS HURRIED ALONG the soldiers’ marshaling yard, where an afternoon drill was under way. He was looking for Harry.

  The young Squire was where Nicholas expected to find him, watching the team from Krondor getting ready for a football match with the visiting team from Ylith. The sport, played by Prince of Krondor rules—codified some twenty years earlier by Arutha—had become the national sport in the Western Realm, and now city champions challenged one another regularly. Years before, an enterprising merchant had erected a field and stands near the palace. Over the years he had improved it and expanded it, until it was now a stadium that could easily accommodate forty thousand spectators. It was expected to be full next Sixthday when the match was played. The visiting Ylithmen, the North Precinct Golds, were playing Krondor’s champions, the Millers and Bakers Association Stonemen.

  Nicholas arrived to see an attack drill, in which five Stonemen descended upon the goalkeeper and three defenders and, with three deft passes, scored a goal. Harry turned and said, “I hate to miss the match.”

  Nicholas said, “Me too, but think of it: a sea voyage!”

  Harry regarded his friend and saw an excitement in Nicholas he had never seen before. “You really want to go, don’t your?”

  “Don’t you?”

  Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. Crydee sounds like a pretty sleepy place. I wonder what the girls are like.” He grinned at the last and Nicholas grimaced in return. Nicholas was as shy of girls as Harry was shameless. Still, he enjoyed being around Harry when he flirted with the younger girls in the court and the servants’ daughters, because he thought he might learn something—as long as the Squire wasn’t bullying them, as he had the day before. At times Harry could be charming, but at other times he got too rough for Nicholas’s taste.

  Nicholas said, “You may miss getting put in your place by the local girls, but I feel like I’m getting out of a cage.”

  Harry’s usual bantering manner vanished. “It’s not that bad?”

  Turning away from the practice, Nicholas walked back toward the palace, Harry falling in at his side. “I have always been the youngest, the weakest, the…cripple.”

  Harry’s eyebrows went up. “Some cripple. I’ve got more bruises and cuts from sword practice with you than everyone else combined, and I don’t think I’ve touched you more than twice in a year.”

  Nicholas’s crooked smile made him look like his father as he said, “You’ve scored a point or two.”

  Harry shrugged. “See. I’m not bad, but you’re exceptional. How could you be considered a cripple?”

  “Do you have the Festival of Presentation in Ludland?”

  Harry said, “No, it’s only for the royal family, right?”

  Nicholas shook his head. “No. It used to be that every noble child was presented to the people thirty days after birth, so that all could see the child was born without flaw.

  “It fell out of practice in the Eastern Realm a long time ago, but it was practiced widely in the West. My brothers were presented, as was my sister—all the children of the royal family, until me.”

  Harry nodded. “All right, so your father didn’t wish to show you off to the people. What about it?”

  Nicholas shrugged. “It’s not what you are, sometimes; it’s how people treat you. I’ve always been treated as if there was something wrong with me. It makes it hard.”

  “And you think things will be different in Crydee?” said Harry as they left the precinct of the stadium and reached the gate to the palace.

  Two guards saluted the Prince as he passed, and Nicholas said, “I don’t know my uncle Martin well, but I like him. I think I may have a different life in Crydee.”

  Harry sighed as they entered the palace. “I hope it’s not too different,” he observed as a particularly pretty maid hurried past. He watched her until she vanished through a side door. “There are so many possibilities here, Nicky.”

  Nicholas shook his head in resignation.

  —

  THE ROWERS PULLED and the longboat backed away, as heavy lines ran out to the stern of the ship. Upon the docks Arutha, Anita, and a host of court functionaries stood, bidding Prince Nicholas good-bye. Anita had a glimmer in her eyes, yet she held back her tears. Nicholas was her baby, but she had seen three other children leave home before, and that kept her in balance. Still, she kept a tight hold on her husband’s arm. Something in his manner made her uneasy.

  Nicholas and Harry stood near the bow, waving to those upon the docks. Amos stood behind them, his eyes fixed upon his beloved Alicia. Nicholas looked from his grandmother to Amos and said, “Well, should I begin to call you ‘Grandfather’?”

  Amos gave Nicholas a baleful look. “You do and you’ll swim to Crydee. And when we clear the harbor, you’ll call me ‘Captain.’ As I told your father over twenty years ago, Prince or not, upon a ship none is master save the captain. Here I’m high priest and king, and don’t you forget it.”

  Nicholas grinned at Harry, not quite ready to believe that Amos could turn into some sort of raging tyrant once they were at sea.

  The harbor crew continued to tow the large ship clear of the royal quay, then cast off. Amos shot a glance at the harbor pilot and shouted, “Take the wheel, master pilot!” To the crew he shouted, “Set all topsails! Make ready mainsails and topgallants!”

  When the first three sails were deployed, the ship seemed to come to life. Nicholas and Harry felt the movement beneath their feet. The ship heeled slightly to the right as the pilot brought it about. Amos left the boys to their own devices and made his way to the stern.

  Slowly the ship moved through the harbor, majestically passing dozens of lesser craft. Nicholas watched every detail as the crew sprang to answer the pilot’s commands. Two smaller coastal cutters were entering the harbor mouth as they approached. Seeing the ensign of the royal house of Krondor atop the mainmast, they dipped their own Kingdom flag in salute. Nicholas waved to them.

  Harry said, “Not very dignified, Your Highness.”

  Nicholas threw an elbow into Harry’s ribs, laughing. “Who cares?”

  The ship turned into the wind near the harbor mouth, bringing it to a virtual halt. A small rowboat came alongside and the pilot and his assistant hurried down into it, turning command of the ship over to Amos.

  Once the pilot’s boat was clear, Amos turned to his first mate, a man named Rhodes, and shouted, “Trim topsails. Set mainsails and topgallants!”

  Nicholas involuntarily gripped the rail, for the ship seemed to leap forward as the wind filled the sails. In the brisk morning breeze the ship sped through the water. The sun began to burn through the early morning haze and the sky turned a vivid blue. Above, sea gulls flew after the ship, waiting for the day’s garbage to be tossed over the side.

  Nicholas pointed
down at the bow wake, and Harry looked over to see dolphins racing the ship. Both boys laughed at the sight.

  Amos watched the landmarks of the harbor fall away behind, then he consulted the position of the sun above the harbor. Turning to the first mate, he said, “Due west, Mr. Rhodes. We make for Sorcerer’s Isle.”

  —

  FOR SIX DAYS they tacked against the prevailing westerly winds, until the lookout called, “Land ho!”

  “Where away?” shouted Amos.

  “Two points off the starboard bow, Captain! An island!”

  Amos nodded. “Look for the headlands, Mr. Rhodes. There’s a cove to the southwest that we can lie in. Pass word that we’ll only be laying over for a day or so. No one is to leave the ship without permission.”

  Rhodes, a laconic man, said, “No one’s going to wish to set foot on Sorcerer’s Isle without a direct order, Captain.”

  Amos nodded. He knew who lived there now, but old superstitions died hard. For years the abode of Macros the Black, the island was reputed to be the home of demons and other dark spirits. Pug, a magician related to Arutha by adoption whom Amos had met on a number of occasions, had come to live on this island almost nine years before, and for his own reasons made few welcome there. Without thought, Amos said, “Pass the word to be alert.”

  Looking around, Amos realized that there was no need. Every man on the ship had his eyes fixed upon the spot of land that was growing larger with every passing minute. Amos felt a little stirring of anticipation, for while he knew Pug had requested no visitors, he doubted he would attack a ship flying the Krondorian royal ensign.

  Nakor and Ghuda had come up on deck, and the little man rushed to the bow, where Nicholas and Harry were already stationed. Nicholas grinned at the strange little man. He had taken a liking to Nakor, who had proved an entertaining companion on an otherwise dull voyage.

  “Now you’ll see some things,” said Nakor.

  Ghuda said, “Look, a castle.”

  Upon a promontory, the outlines of a castle could be seen as they drew closer. As they neared, they began to discern details. It was built of black stones, and set upon a rocky finger of land that was separated from the rest of the island by a narrow fissure through which the surf pounded. Across the gap a drawbridge extended, but even with it down, there was little about the place that looked hospitable. A single window, high up in a tower, flashed an ominous blue light.