Heads turned to see Swordmaster Fannon, followed closely by Tomas. All the keep folk quickly retired, leaving Pug standing before Fannon, Tomas, and those of the Duke’s court with rank enough to ignore Fannon’s remark. Pug could see the Princess talking to her father, Lyam, Arutha, and Squire Roland. Fannon said, ‘What happened, boy?’
Pug tried to speak, but stopped when he saw the Duke and his sons approaching. Kulgan came hurrying behind the Duke, having been alerted by the general commotion in the courtyard. All bowed to the Duke when he approached, and Pug saw Carline break free of Roland’s solicitations and follow her father, to stand at Pug’s side. Lady Mama threw a besieged look heavenward, and Roland followed the girl, an open expression of surprise upon his face. When the Princess took Pug’s hand in her own, Roland’s expression changed to one of black-humored jealousy.
The Duke said, ‘My daughter has said some very remarkable things about you, boy. I would like to hear your account.’ Pug felt suddenly self-conscious and gently disengaged his hand from Carline’s. He recounted the events of the day, with Carline enthusiastically adding embellishments. Between the two of them, the Duke gained a nearly accurate account of things. When Pug finished, Lord Borric asked, ‘How is it the trolls drowned in the stream, Pug?’
Pug looked uncomfortable. ‘I cast a spell upon them, and they were unable to reach the shore,’ he said softly. He was still confused by this accomplishment and had not given much thought to it, as the Princess had pushed all other thoughts aside. He could see surprise registered on Kulgan’s face. Pug began to say something, but was interrupted by the Duke’s next remark.
‘Pug, I can’t begin to repay the service you’ve done my family. But I shall find a suitable reward for your courage.’ In a burst of enthusiasm Carline threw her arms around Pug’s neck, hugging him fiercely. Pug stood in embarrassment, looking frantically about, as if trying to communicate that this familiarity was none of his doing.
Lady Marna looked ready to faint, and the Duke pointedly coughed, motioning with his head for his daughter to retire. As she left with the Lady Marna, Kulgan and Fannon simply let their amusement show, as did Lyam and Arutha. Roland shot Pug an angry, envious look, then turned and headed off toward his own quarters. Lord Borric said to Kulgan, ‘Take this boy to his room. He looks exhausted. I’ll order food sent to him. Have him come to the great hall after tomorrow’s morning meal.’ He turned to Pug. ‘Again, I thank you.’ The Duke motioned for his sons to follow and walked away. Fannon gripped Tomas by the elbow, for the sandy-haired boy had started to speak with his friend. The old Swordmaster motioned with his head that the boy should come with him, leaving Pug in peace. Tomas nodded, though he was burning with a thousand questions.
When they had all left, Kulgan placed his arm around the boy’s shoulder. ‘Come, Pug. You’re tired, and there is much to speak of.’
Pug lay back on his pallet, the remains of his meal lying on a platter next to him. He couldn’t remember ever having been this tired before. Kulgan paced back and forth across the room. ‘It’s absolutely incredible.’ He waved a hand in the air, his red robe surging over his heavy frame like water flowing over a boulder. ‘You close your eyes, and the image of a scroll you saw weeks before appears. You incant the spell, as if you were holding the scroll in your hand before you, and the trolls fall. Absolutely incredible.’ Sitting down on the stool near the window, he continued. ‘Pug, nothing like this has ever been done before. Do you know what you’ve done?’
Pug started from the edge of a warm, soft sleep and looked at the magician. ‘Only what I said I did, Kulgan.’
‘Yes, but do you have any idea what it means?’
‘No.’
‘Neither do I.’ The magician seemed to collapse inside as his excitement left, replaced by complete uncertainty. ‘I don’t have the slightest idea what it all means. Magicians don’t toss spells off the top of their heads. Clerics can, but they have a different focus and different magic. Do you remember what I taught you about focuses, Pug?’
Pug winced, not being in the mood to recite a lesson, but forced himself to sit up. ‘Anyone who employs magic must have a focus for the power he uses. Priests have power to focus their magic through prayer; their incantations are a form of prayer. Magicians use their bodies, or devices, or books and scrolls.’
‘Correct,’ said Kulgan, ‘but you have just violated that truism.’ He took out his long pipe and absently stuffed tabac into the bowl. ‘The spell you incanted cannot use the caster’s body as a focus. It has been developed to inflict great pain upon another. It can be a very terrible weapon. But it can be cast only by reading from a scroll that it is written upon, at the time it’s cast. Why is this?’
Pug forced leaden eyelids open. ‘The scroll itself is magic.’
‘True. Some magic is intrinsic to the magician, such as taking on the shape of an animal or smelling weather. But casting spells outside the body, upon something else, needs an external focus. Trying to incant the spell you used from memory should have produced terrible pain in you, not the trolls, if it would have worked at all! That is why magicians developed scrolls, books, and other devices, to focus that sort of magic in a way that will not harm the caster. And until today, I would have sworn that no one alive could have made that spell work without the scroll in hand.’
Leaning against the windowsill, Kulgan puffed on his pipe for a moment, gazing out into space. ‘It’s as if you have discovered a completely new form of magic,’ he said softly. Hearing no response, Kulgan looked down at the boy, who was deeply asleep. Shaking his head in wonder, the magician pulled a cover over the exhausted boy. He put out the lantern that hung on the wall and let himself out. As he walked up the stairs to his own room, he shook his head. ‘Absolutely incredible.’
Pug waited as the Duke held court in the great hall. Everyone in the keep and town who could contrive a way to gain entrance to the audience was there. Richly dressed Craftmasters, merchants, and minor nobles were in attendance. They stood regarding the boy with expressions ranging from wonder to disbelief. The rumor of his deed had spread through the town and had grown in the telling.
Pug wore new clothing, which had been in his room when he awoke. In his newfound splendor he felt self-conscious and awkward. The tunic was a bright yellow affair of the costliest silk, and the hose were a soft pastel blue. Pug tried to wiggle his toes in the new boots, the first he had ever worn. Walking in them seemed strange and uncomfortable. At his side a jeweled dagger hung from a black leather belt with a golden buckle in the form of a gull in flight. Pug suspected the clothing had once belonged to one of the Duke’s sons, put aside when outgrown, but still looking new and beautiful.
The Duke was finishing the morning’s business: a request from one of the shipwrights for guards to accompany a lumber expedition to the great forest. Borric was dressed, as usual in black, but his sons and daughter wore their finest court regalia. Lyam was listening closely to the business before his father. Roland stood behind him, as was the custom. Arutha was in rare good humor, laughing behind an upraised hand at some quip Father Tully had just made. Carline sat quietly, her face set in a warm smile, looking directly at Pug, which was adding to his discomfort – and Roland’s irritation.
The Duke gave his permission for a company of guards to accompany the craftsmen into the forest. The Craftmaster gave thanks and bowed, then returned to the crowd, leaving Pug alone before the Duke. The boy stepped forward as Kulgan had told him to do and bowed properly, albeit a little stiffly, before the Lord of Crydee. Borric smiled at the boy and motioned to Father Tully. The priest removed a document from the sleeve of his voluminous robe and handed it to a herald. The herald stepped forward and unrolled the scroll.
In a loud voice he read: ‘To all within our demesne: Whereas the youth Pug, of the castle of Crydee, has shown exemplary courage in the act of risking life and limb in defense of the royal person of the Princess Carline, and; Whereas the youth, Pug of Crydee, is considered to hold us forever in his debt; It is my wish that he be known to all in the realm as our beloved and loyal servant, and it is furthermore wished that he be given a place in the court of Crydee, with the rank of Squire, with all rights and privileges pertaining thereunto. Furthermore let it be known that the title for the estate of Forest Deep is conferred upon him and his progeny as long as they shall live, to have and to hold, with servants and properties thereupon. Title to this estate shall be held by the crown until the day of his majority. Set this day by my hand and seal Borric conDoin, third Duke of Crydee; Prince of the Kingdom; Lord of Crydee, Carse, and Tulan; Warden of the West; Knight-General of the King’s Armies; heir presumptive to the throne of Rillanon.’
Pug felt his knees go slack but caught himself before he fell. The room erupted in cheers. People were pressing around him, offering their congratulations and slapping him on the back. He was a Squire and a landholder with franklins, a house, and stock. He was rich. Or at least he would be in three years when he reached his majority. While he was considered a man of the Kingdom at fourteen, grants of land and titles couldn’t be conferred until he reached eighteen. The crowd backed away as the Duke approached, his family and Roland behind. Both Princes smiled at Pug, and the Princess seemed positively aglow. Roland gave Pug a rueful smile, as if in disbelief.
‘I’m honored, Your Grace,’ Pug stammered. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Then say nothing, Pug. It makes you seem wise when everyone is babbling. Come, and we’ll have a talk.’ The Duke motioned for a chair to be placed near his own, as he put an arm around the boy’s shoulders and walked him through the crowd. Sitting down, he said, ‘You may all leave us now. I would speak with the Squire.’ The crowd pressing around muttered in disappointment, but began to drift out of the hall. ‘Except you two,’ the Duke added, pointing toward Kulgan and Tully.
Carline stood by her father’s chair, a hesitant Roland at her side. ‘You as well, my child,’ said the Duke.
Carline began to protest, but was cut off by her father’s stern admonition: ‘You may pester him later, Carline.’ The two Princes stood at the door, obviously amused at her outrage; Roland tried to offer his arm to the Princess, but she pulled away and swept by her grinning brothers. Lyam clapped Roland on the shoulder as the embarrassed Squire joined them. Roland glared at Pug, who felt the anger like a blow.
When the doors clanged closed and the hall was empty, the Duke said, ‘Pay no heed to Roland, Pug. My daughter has him firmly under her spell; he counts himself in love with her and wishes someday to petition for her hand.’ With a lingering look at the closed door, he added almost absently, ‘But he’ll have to show me he’s more than the rakehell he’s growing into now if he ever hopes for my consent.’
The Duke dismissed the topic with a wave of his hand. ‘Now, to other matters. Pug, I have an additional gift for you, but first I want to explain something to you.
‘My family is among the oldest in the Kingdom. I myself am descended from a King, for my grandfather, the first Duke of Crydee, was third son to the King. Being of royal blood, we are much concerned with matters of duty and honor. You are now both a member of my court and apprentice of Kulgan. In matters of duty you are responsible to him. In matters of honor you are responsible to me. This room is hung with the trophies and banners of our triumphs. Whether we have been resisting the Dark Brotherhood in their ceaseless effort to destroy us, or fighting off pirates, we have ever fought bravely. Ours is a proud heritage that has never known the stain of dishonor. No member of our court has ever brought shame to this hall, and I will expect the same of you.’
Pug nodded, tales of glory and honor remembered from his youth spinning in his mind. The Duke smiled. ‘Now to the business of your other gift. Father Tully has a document that I asked him to draw up last night. I am going to ask him to keep it, until such time as he deems fit to give it to you. I will say no more on the subject, except that when he gives it to you, I hope you will remember this day and consider long what it says.’
‘I will, Your Grace.’ Pug was sure the Duke was saying something very important, but with all the events of the last half hour, it did not register very well.
‘I will expect you for supper, Pug. As a member of the court, you will not be eating meals in the kitchen anymore.’ The Duke smiled at him. ‘We’ll make a young gentleman out of you, boy. And someday when you travel to the King’s city of Rillanon, no one will fault the manners of those who come from the court of Crydee.’
• CHAPTER FIVE •
Shipwreck
THE BREEZE WAS COOL.
The last days of summer had passed, and soon the rains of autumn would come. A few weeks later the first snows of winter would follow. Pug sat in his room, studying a book of ancient exercises designed to ready the mind for spell casting. He had fallen back into his old routine once the excitement of his elevation to the Duke’s court had worn off.
His marvelous feat with the trolls continued to be the object of speculation by Kulgan and Father Tully. Pug found he still couldn’t do many of the things expected of an apprentice, but other feats were beginning to come to him. Certain scrolls were easier to use now, and once, in secret, he had tried to duplicate his feat.
He had memorized a spell from a book, one designed to levitate objects. He had felt the familiar blocks in his mind when he tried to incant it from memory. He had failed to move the object, a candleholder, but it trembled for a few seconds and he felt a brief sensation, as if he had touched the holder with a part of his mind. Satisfied that some sort of progress was being made, he lost much of his former gloom and renewed his studies with vigor.
Kulgan still let him find his own pace. They had had many long discussions on the nature of magic, but mostly Pug worked in solitude.
Shouting came from the courtyard below. Pug walked to his window. Seeing a familiar figure, he leaned out and cried, ‘Ho! Tomas! What is afoot?’ Tomas looked up.
‘Ho! Pug! A ship has foundered in the night. The wreck has beached beneath Sailor’s Grief. Come and see.’
‘I’ll be right down.’
Pug ran to the door, pulling on a cloak, for while the day was clear, it would be cold near the water. Racing down the stairs, he cut through the kitchen, nearly knocking over Alfan, the pastry cook. As he bolted out the door, he heard the stout baker yell, ‘Squire or not, I’ll box your ears if you don’t watch where you’re going, boy!’ The kitchen staff had not changed their attitude toward the boy, whom they considered one of their own, beyond feeling proud of his achievement.
Pug shouted back with laughter in his voice, ‘My apologies, Mastercook!’
Alfan gave him a good-natured wave as Pug vanished through the outside door and around the corner to where Tomas was waiting. Tomas turned toward the gate as soon as he saw his friend.
Pug grabbed his arm. ‘Wait. Has anyone from the court been told?’
‘I don’t know. Word just came from the fishing village a moment ago,’ Tomas said impatiently. ‘Come on, or the villagers will pick the wreck clean.’ It was commonly held that salvage could be legally carried away before any of the Duke’s court arrived. As a result, the villagers and townsfolk were less than timely in informing the authorities of such occurrences. There was also a risk of bloodshed, should the beached ship still be manned by sailors determined to keep their master’s cargo intact so that they would get their fair sailing bonus. Violent confrontation, and even death, had been the result of such dispute. Only the presence of men-at-arms could guarantee no commoner would come to harm from lingering mariners.
‘Oh, no,’ said Pug. ‘If there is any trouble down there and the Duke finds out I didn’t tell someone else, I’ll be in for it.’
‘Look, Pug. Do you think with all these people rushing about, the Duke will be long in hearing of it?’ Tomas ran his hand through his hair. ‘Someone is probably in the great hall right now, telling him the news. Master Fannon is away on patrol, and Kulgan won’t be back awhile yet.’ Kulgan was due back later that day from his cottage in the forest, where he and Meecham had spent the last week. ‘It may be our only chance to see a shipwreck.’ A look of sudden inspiration came over his face. ‘Pug, I have it! You’re a member of the court now. Come along, and when we get there, you declare for the Duke.’ A calculating expression crossed his face. ‘And if we find a rich bauble or two, who’s to know?’
