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The workmen, alarmed at the fragile appearance of the barrel ricks, were quickly emptying some of the contents. Megar came out of the kitchen and angrily shooed them away. ‘Leave off, there will be none left for the evening meal at this rate! Back to the kitchen, dolts! There is much work to be done yet.’ The workers went off, grumbling, and Megar filled a tankard to ensure the ale was at proper temperature. After he drained it dry and satisfied himself that all was as it should be, he returned to the kitchen.
She fixed him with a gaze that would have suited her had an insect been found crawling across a dinner plate. ‘Oh. You’re that boy.’ Whatever brief spark of interest there had been went out, and she turned away from him. They rode awhile longer, then the Princess said, ‘Boy, we stop here.’
A low groan ending in a sharp cry made the boys turn. Standing behind them was the missing man from the ship, the strange broadsword held loosely in his left hand and dragging in the sand. His right arm was held tightly against his side; blood could be seen running from under his blue breastplate, and from under his helmet. He took a staggering step forward. His face was ashen, and his eyes wide with pain and confusion. He shouted something incomprehensible at the boys. They stepped back slowly, raising their hands to show they were unarmed.
keep it balanced while he marched. The sergeant of the Duke’s Guard stood counting out cadence for him. Pug knew the sergeant, a tall, friendly man named Gardan. He was Keshian by ancestry, evident in his dark skin. His white teeth split his dark, nappy beard in a grin at the sight of Pug and Roland. He stood nearly as broad in the
The three boys joined hands, and Roland said, ‘No matter where we go, no matter how many years pass, never again shall we be without friends.’ Pug was struck by the sudden solemnity of the pledge and said, ‘Friends!’ Tomas echoed Pug’s words, and the three shook hands in a gesture of affirmation.
Her expression became determined. ‘I’m not leaving until I tell you what I came to say.’ Pug knew it was futile to argue. He had seen that look too many times in the past. With a resigned sigh, he said, ‘All right, then, what is it?’ Carline’s eyes widened at his tone. ‘Well, if that’s how you’re going to be, I won’t tell you!’
‘He’s a spineless idiot!’ she snapped back. ‘If I asked him to jump off the wall, he’d do it.’ ‘Carline,’ Pug nearly whined, ‘why have—’ His question was cut off as she leaned forward and covered his mouth with her own. The kiss was one-sided, for Pug was too stunned to respond. She quickly sat back, leaving him agape, and she said, ‘Well?’ Lacking any original response, Pug said, ‘What?’
she said, ‘I come here and throw myself at you. I risk getting myself banished to a convent for life!’ Pug noticed she failed to mention his possible fate. ‘Every other boy – and not a slight number of the older nobles – in the West fall over themselves to get my attention. And all you do is treat me like some common kitchen drudge, a passing amusement for the young lord.’
Carline bit her lower lip slightly, and Pug fought down the urge to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. He had no doubt that once he did that, matters would quickly be beyond his control. No girl in his limited experience, even the prettier ones in the town, aroused such strong feelings in him.
He reached out and touched her face tenderly. ‘We have time. I’m not going anywhere.’ From under lowered lashes, blue eyes regarded him with worry. ‘You’ll be leaving with Father soon.’ ‘I mean when I return. I’ll be here for years.’ Gently
There we have it.. Hesgoing to be exiled for comitting a cim h didjt commit and never see her for 20+ years. You camt fool me Feist
Pug’s side, and when he bowed politely, she said, ‘Oh, get off that stupid horse.’ Pug climbed down, and Carline threw her arms around his neck, holding him closely for a moment. ‘Take care and stay well,’ she said. ‘Don’t let anything happen to you.’ She pulled away, then kissed him briefly. ‘And come home.’ Holding back tears, she hurried to the head of the line, where her father and brother waited to say good-bye.
Pug followed the creatures with his eyes as they rode through a clearing, then, somewhat startled, said, ‘Kulgan, isn’t that Fantus there, hovering near the edge?’ Kulgan’s eyes widened. ‘By the gods! I think it is.’ Pug asked, ‘Shall I call him?’ The magician chuckled. ‘Given the attention he’s receiving from those females, I think it would do little good.’
when the castle was nearly taken by the Dark Brotherhood, the dwarves of Stone Mountain and the Grey Towers were on the march to aid the besieged. A messenger carried the news of the castle’s imminent fall, and the dwarves ran for a day and a night and half a day again to fall on the Brotherhood from behind without any lessening of their fighting ability. The Brotherhood was broken, never again organizing under a single leader.’
Reaching the edge of the smoke, it recoiled from its touch. It ranged about the edge, unable or unwilling to enter the white smoke. Pug looked past the creature, and the pit of his stomach churned. Clearly standing in the light of a torch held in his hand was Tomas, behind the creature. Tomas looked helplessly past the wraith at Pug and the escaping party. ‘Tomas!’ ripped from Pug’s throat, followed by a sob.
Meecham came up on one elbow and looked at his master. Gardan did likewise. Kulgan said, ‘It will blow three days longer. We will put in to the lee of an island and hold there until it slackens.’ ‘What island?’ asked Pug. ‘Sorcerer’s Isle.’ Meecham shot up out of his bunk, hitting his head on the low ceiling. Cursing and rubbing his head, while Gardan stifled a laugh, he exclaimed, ‘The island of Macros the Black?’
When they were a half day’s ride short of Salador, they encountered a patrol of city guards. The guard captain rode forward. Pulling up his horse, he shouted, ‘What business brings the Prince’s guard to the lands of Salador?’ There was little love lost between the two cities, and the Krondorians rode without a heraldic banner. His tone left no doubt that he regarded their presence as an infringement upon his territory. Duke Borric threw back his cloak, revealing his tabard. ‘Carry word to your master that Borric, Duke of Crydee, approaches the city and would avail himself of Lord Kerus’s
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The Duke of Salador said, ‘One last thing, Borric. With Erland having refused the crown thirteen years ago, and the rumors of his health failing, many of the Congress of Lords will be looking to you for guidance. Where you lead, many will follow, even some of us in the East.’ Borric said coldly, ‘Are you speaking of civil war?’ Kerus waved a hand, a pained expression crossing his face. His eyes seemed moist, as if near tears. ‘I am ever loyal to the crown, Borric, but if it comes to the right of things, the Kingdom must prevail. No one man is more important than the Kingdom.’ Borric said
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If I have to march the Armies of the West into Krondor and assume the regency myself, that is what shall be, even should Rodric wish it otherwise. Only if the King has issue will another take the western throne.’ Caldric looked at Borric calmly. ‘And will you be branded traitor to the crown?’
they judged you would not expect an attack from seaward.’ Fannon said, ‘They judged correctly. Since their last raid we’ve patrolled the forests heavily. They couldn’t get within a day’s march of Crydee without our knowing. This way they caught us unawares.’ The old Swordmaster sounded tired and bitter. ‘Now the town is destroyed, and we’ve a courtyard filled with terrified townsmen.’