The Serpentwar Saga

The hatch above slid aside and two figures came down, de Loungville and Foster. Foster said, ‘Listen up!’

De Loungville stopped about halfway down the companionway so he could look around at all the men. ‘We’re under way, which no doubt you know unless you’re unconscious or even more stupid than I thought. We’ll be between ninety and one hundred days at sea, weather permitting. There’s plenty of work to do, and I’ll not have you running to fat because you’re not sailors. Besides, we may be coming home short-handed’ – he got a faraway look for a second, as if that meant more than what it sounded like – ‘so knowing your way around a ship will prove useful. Mr Collins will come down later with assignments and you’ll do as you’re told, no questions asked. He has as much rank as Knight-Captain in the King’s Army, so don’t go forgetting that because he looks like a common sailor.’

He moved down the ladder, walked over to where the six prisoners were waiting, and motioned for them to gather around. ‘I’m only going to tell you this once. Ruthia must love you, because the Lady of Luck has seen fit to keep you alive a little longer. I was given two weeks to judge if you’re fit to live, and as things were going, you were all heading back to the gallows.’ He glanced from face to face. ‘But I convinced Calis that I could hang you from the yard-arms as easily as I could from the gallows in Krondor, so you’ve only gained time.

‘The next three months are going to be harsh. You’ll work a full watch like every man on this ship, and another watch will be given over to some training you haven’t had and those others have.’ He hiked a thumb over his shoulder to the men at the other end of the hold.

Biggo spoke, to everyone’s surprise. ‘Are we to learn why?’

‘Why what?’ asked de Loungville.

‘Why this great galloping charade, Robert de Loungville, Sergeant darling sir. You don’t spend the Prince’s gold and dragoon soldiers from all parts of the Kingdom, then go through all this to save murderers and thieves from fair justice. You want something from us and you’re prepared to give us back our lives in exchange. Fair enough, and no questions asked, but men more stupid than me would know that it’s better for us to know what’s ahead and rest certain in that knowledge than to let imagination stir up horrors that might make us do something rash and foolish. If we get ourselves killed, we’re not happy and you’re not happy.’

De Loungville studied Biggo’s face for a moment; then his face split into a grin. ‘I liked you better when you were stupid, Biggo.’ He turned and as he left, he said, ‘Stay alive long enough, and I promise you you’ll find out more than you want to know.’ As he reached the companionway, he turned again to add, ‘But for the time being, the trick is to stay alive.’

He climbed the stairs, Foster, as ever, behind him, and as the hatchway closed, Biggo said, ‘Well, that’s not really what I wanted to hear.’

Luis said, ‘What do you think? Is he trying to scare us?’

Sho Pi said, ‘No, I think the problem is he’s trying very hard not to scare us.’

Erik returned to his bunk, and with a cold feeling inside, he knew that Sho Pi was right.

Days passed. The first day they had been allowed up on deck, Erik saw another ship traveling a short distance away. A sailor had told him that it was the Freeport Ranger, another ship under Calis’s command. Erik said he had thought all Kingdom ships were called Royal this or that, and the sailor merely nodded, then went back to work.

Erik didn’t care much for the work, but it was outside and the weather was clement, despite its being early fall. Roo hated being a sailor, having some trouble with the heights, but he had the agility to get around in the yards that Biggo and Erik lacked. Luis and Billy were steady hands, and Sho Pi took to the tasks put before him with the same easy grace he had shown in the camp.

After two weeks, Erik had gotten his sea legs and calluses on his feet; he had put his riding boots away, because they were dangerous on a ship and the salt water was bad for the leather. Only officers wore boots, for they never had to climb the rigging. Erik and the other men below went barefoot like the sailors and were learning the sailor’s craft in a hurry.

A landlubber of the worst sort, he was no longer confused by such terms as ‘running out a sheet,’ or ‘securing a yard.’ As in the camp, the hard work was accompanied by good food, a fact remarked upon by more than one sailor. That they were eating better than was the norm was not lost on Erik, and he joked that they were being treated like prize horses being readied for a competition among nobles. He decided not to mention that such competitions frequently ended with an animal down with a broken leg, or a rider thrown to serious injury or death.

Even Roo, averse to hard work his entire young life, was showing the effects of the hard regime and good food. There was wiry muscle on his scrawny frame, and he moved with a self-assurance Erik had never seen before. Roo had always laughed as a child, but there was a mean, dangerous edge to him, and his humor had often been cruel. Now he seemed more involved with the moment, as if it was slowly dawning on him what life was, as opposed to the mind-numbing fear that death was only a moment away. Erik sensed something had changed in Roo, but he couldn’t rightly say what that change was.

Sho Pi observed that whatever awaited them, de Loungville wanted them fit and ready. Each day was an equal mix of hard work and battle training.

The second day out, Sho Pi had gone up on deck during his off watch, to practice a series of controlled movements that looked like nothing as much as a dance to Erik. Graceful and flowing, they still held a sense of menace, as if to quicken the action would turn graceful motions into killing blows. After he finished and returned belowdecks, Luis said, ‘What was that you were doing up there, Keshian?’

‘Isalani,’ corrected Sho Pi, then as he swung into his bunk, he said, ‘It is called kata, and it is the heart of the arts I practice. It is a sense of movement and it taps the power around you, to give you balance and ease at the moment you need to draw upon that power.’

Erik sat up in his own bunk. ‘Is that the trick you used to disarm the soldier?’

‘It is, sad to admit, the same, but it is not a trick. It is an ancient art form, and it can be used to harmonize the self with the universe, as well as for self-defense.’

Biggo said, ‘If you could show me how to kick de Loungville around the way you did, I’d be interested in learning.’

‘That would be an abuse of the art,’ said Sho Pi. ‘But should you wish to practice with me, you are welcome. Kata will relax you, calm you, and refresh you.’

Billy said, ‘Sure. You looked so relaxed and calm when you kicked de Loungville.’

Luis grinned. ‘Ah, but it was refreshing!’

They all laughed. Suddenly Erik was visited with an unexpected and extraordinary affection for these men. Murderers all, the dregs of Kingdom society – yet in each he sensed something that made him feel kinship. He had never experienced such a feeling before and it troubled him as much as it felt natural. Lying back on his bunk, he pondered this odd turmoil.

By the end of the next week, Erik and the others had joined Luis in taking lessons in kata from Sho Pi. For an hour after their watch, the six would stand in a relatively clear area of the deck, between the main hatch and the foremast, and follow his lead.

Erik found the admonitions to think of a spot of light, or a soft breeze, or some other relaxing image while he moved vigorously through a long series of classic Isalani movements silly at first. After a time, he sensed the calm that would come with accepting Sho Pi’s advice. Despite the long, hard hours of work, the additional exercise didn’t tire, it refreshed, and Erik had never slept better in his life.

A sailor, a LaMutian, whose father had been a Tsurani warrior, asked to join as well. He claimed that much of what Sho Pi taught was similar to what his father had shown him as a child, part of the heritage of the Tsurani ‘way of the warrior.’

After the group had been practicing for a week, the large man whom Sho Pi had humbled came over to watch. After a few minutes he said, ‘Can you show me how to do that thing with the thumb?’

Sho Pi said, ‘It is but a part of this. You will learn many things.’

The man nodded and stood next to Erik. Sho Pi nodded to Erik, who said, ‘Put your feet like so.’ He showed him. ‘Now balance your weight so it is neither too far forward nor too far back, but just in the middle, even on both feet.’

The man nodded. ‘My name is Jerome Handy,’ he said.

‘Erik von Darkmoor.’

Sho Pi demonstrated the four moves they would practice, and slowly led the men through the series. Then, instructing them to try it again, he moved quickly among them, correcting position and balance.

From the quarterdeck, Foster and de Loungville stood watching. Foster said, ‘What do you make of that?’

De Loungville shrugged. ‘Hard to say, Charlie. It could be something just to kill the time. Or it could be something that saves some lives. That Keshian could just as easily have killed me as embarrassed me with those kicks. He pulled them, despite the fact he was mad at me.’ He was silent for a while, then said, ‘Let it be known that I won’t mind if the others follow Handy’s lead. It’s about time our last six birds joined the rest of our flock.’

Slowly, over the next few days, more and more of the other thirty men joined the group, until at the end of the third week all were practicing kata under Sho Pi’s supervision.

‘You’re all prisoners?’ asked Luis, incredulity on his face.

‘Ya, man,’ said an ebony-skinned man from the Vale of Dreams named Jadow Shati. ‘Each man here took the fall in Bobby de Loungville’s little drama. Each of us looked the Death Goddess in the eye, or at least thought we were going to.’ He grinned and Erik found himself smiling in return. The man’s smile had that impact, as if all the sunlight and happiness reflected off teeth made brilliant white by the contrast with his dark skin, the blackest Erik had ever seen. In the short time he had known Jadow, Erik had discovered he had the ability to find some humor in almost any situation. He also had a way of putting things so that Erik almost always ended up laughing.

Roo threw up his hands. ‘Then why were you such a bloody bunch of bastards when we first came to camp?’

They were all sitting around in the hold barracks. Over the last few days, after practicing with Sho Pi, the men had begun speaking with one another and the barrier between the six men Erik had come to think of as ‘us’ and the other thirty he thought of as ‘them’ had started to weaken.

Jadow spoke with the patois common to the Vale, a no-man’s-land claimed at various times by the Empire of Great Kesh and the Kingdom, where languages, blood, and loyalties tended to be mixed. It was a musical sound, softer than the harsher King’s Tongue, but not as guttural as High Keshian. ‘Man, that was the drill, don’t you know? Each time a new group came, we were to give them bloody hell! Bobby’s orders. Not until he knew he wasn’t going to have to hang us did he treat us better than dirt on the sole of his boot, don’t you see? Then we got to take off the damn ropes, man. Then we began to think we might live a bit longer.’

Jerome Handy sat across from Erik, the biggest man in the group after Biggo and broader across the shoulders. ‘Jadow and me were among the first six. Four of our mates died. Two tried to go over the walls, and those Pathfinders picked them off with their long bows like quails on the wing.’ He made a flying motion with his two hands, as if throwing shadow puppets on the wall, and made a funny flapping sound with his mouth. Then suddenly he turned his hands over and made a sign of a wounded bird falling. Erik had delighted in discovering that as rough and intimidating as Handy could be, he also could be very amusing given anything remotely like an audience. ‘One lost his temper and died in a sword drill. The other …’ He glanced at Jadow.

‘Ah, that was bad, man. Roger was his name,’ supplied the Valeman.

‘Right. Roger. He was hung when he killed a guard, trying to escape.’

‘How long ago was that?’ asked Erik.

‘More than a year, man,’ said Jadow. He ran a hand over his bald pate, which he kept free of hair by dry-shaving with a blade every morning. While most of it was naturally hairless, the little fringe around the ears was persistent enough that Erik winced each time he saw the man give himself a trim.

‘A year!’ asked Billy Goodwin. ‘You’ve been at that camp a year?’

Jadow grinned. Man, consider the alternative, don’t you see?’ He laughed, a deep-throated version of a child’s delight. ‘The food was sumptuous, and the company’ – he cast a mock-baleful look at Jerome – ‘diverting, if nothing else. And the longer we were there …’

‘What?’ asked Roo.

It was Biggo who answered. ‘The longer they weren’t headed toward wherever it is de Loungville and the Eagle are taking us.’

‘Exactly.’

‘You’ve been playing soldier for a year, then?’ asked Luis.

‘More, and I don’t call it playing when men die,’ said a man named Peter Bly.

Jerome nodded. ‘We thirty are what’s left of seventy-eight who were put through the false hanging over the last year and a bit.’

Sho Pi said, ‘Then this would explain why Corporal Foster and … what is Robert de Loungville’s real rank – when first I saw him, I took him for a noble – does anyone know?’

Jerome shook his head. ‘Sergeant is all I’ve ever heard. But I’ve seen him give orders to a Knight-Captain of the King’s own. He’s the second in command, after the elf.’

‘Elf?’ said Erik.

Luis said, ‘What some of the older guards call the Eagle. It’s no joke. They call him that, but there’s no disrespect in it. But they say he’s not human.’

‘He does look a little odd,’ said Roo.

Jerome laughed, and Jadow said, ‘Look who’s talking about looking odd!’

All the gathered men laughed and Roo flushed with embarrassment, waving off the remark. ‘I mean, he doesn’t look like the rest of us.’

‘No one looks like the rest of us,’ said Sho Pi.

‘We know what you mean,’ said another man whose name Erik didn’t know.

Jadow said, ‘I’ve never been to the west, though my father fought there against the Tsurani in the Riftwar. Man, that was some fighting, to hear the old man talk. He saw some elves at the battle in the valley in the Grey Towers, when the elves and dwarves betrayed the treaty. He said the elves are tall and fair, though their hair and eyes are much like yours, from brown to yellow, don’t you know? Yet he said there is something uncommon about them, and they carry themselves with a different grace – as if dancing while the rest of us walk, is what he said to me.’

Sho Pi said, ‘The man called Eagle is that. He is one I’d not wish to face.’

‘You?’ said Erik. ‘You’ve taken swords out of armed men’s hands. I would have thought you were afraid of no one.’

‘I have taken the sword from an armed man’s hands, Erik. But I never claimed I was fearless when I did so.’ His expression became reflective. ‘There is something very dangerous in the man called Calis.’

‘He’s stronger than he looks,’ said Jerome with a frank look of embarrassment. ‘Early on, in the training, before he left everything to Bobby de Loungville, that’s when I thought to bully him and he knocked me down so hard I thought he’d broken my skull.’

‘Too thick, man, much too thick,’ said Jadow, and the others laughed.

‘No, I mean it. I pride myself on taking a blow with the best, but I’ve never felt anything like it, and I was certainly surprised.’ He looked at Sho Pi. ‘As surprised as I was when you twisted my thumb that time. Same thing. I moved, and suddenly I was on my back and my head was ringing like a temple gong.’

Jadow said, ‘He never saw the blow, man. And neither did I, truth to tell. Calis is fast.’

‘He’s not human,’ said another, and there was general agreement.

A warning creak on the companionway stairs had the men scrambling for their bunks before Corporal Foster was through the hatch. As he touched boot to deck, he shouted, ‘Lights out, ladies! Say good night to your sweethearts, and get your rest. You’ve a full day tomorrow.’

Before Erik could get completely under the woolen blanket, the lantern was doused, and the hold plunged into gloom. He lay back and thought what it must have been like to live in that camp for a year, to see men you didn’t know come in and see them die. Suddenly something Sho Pi had started to say registered.

Erik whispered. ‘Sho Pi?’

‘What?’

‘What were you about to say, about something explaining why Foster and de Loungville were doing something or whatever, when you asked about de Loungville’s rank?’

‘I was going to say that having so many men fail, even after the testing before and during their trials, even after having the woman read minds, explains why they are so worried about the six of us.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘More than half the men saved from the gallows died before we got to the camp. By rights, three or four of us – you, me, Roo, Billy, Biggo, and Luis – we shouldn’t be on this ship. We should be dead. De Loungville’s taking a chance. Even after all of this, we still might fail.’

Erik said, ‘Oh, I see.’

He lay back, and sleep was a long time coming as he thought, Fail at what?

• Chapter Eleven • Passage

Erik yawned.

While things were never dull on Trenchard’s Revenge, there were moments of boredom, and this was one. He had finished his exercises with the other men, who formed what he now understood was Robert de Loungville’s handpicked band of ‘desperate men.’ Evening chow was over, and he felt like some fresh air. While the others were lounging in their bunks belowdecks, Erik waited by the fore rail, overlooking the bowsprit, listening to the sounds of the sea as the ship sped through the night.

The deck officer called out the hour’s orders, and the lookout above answered that all was clear. Erik smiled at that. How the man knew all was clear was beyond him, unless he had some magic device allowing his mortal eyes to pierce the darkness. What he meant, thought Erik, was he couldn’t see anything.

Yet that wasn’t entirely true. There was a sea of stars above, with the little moon just rising in the east, and the middle and large moons not due to rise until just before morning. The familiar pattern of the stars above gave silver highlights to the water below. A half mile to starboard, the Freeport Ranger was holding a parallel course, her presence marked by lights upon her bow, stern, and masthead. Any other ship in the night should be running under lights as well, so if they were near, they’d stand out like a beacon.

‘Fascinating, isn’t it?’

Erik turned, startled that he hadn’t heard anyone approach. Calis stood a few feet away, gazing at the sky. ‘I’ve been on ships any number of times, and when the moons are down and the stars are like this, it still makes me pause to watch and wonder.’

Erik didn’t know what to say. This man had spoken to them so rarely, most of the men below were in awe of him. And de Loungville seemed to take great pains to keep them in awe of him. Jadow and Jerome’s narrative about him helped further that cause.

Erik said, ‘Ah, I was just –’

‘Stay,’ said Calis, coming to the rail next to Erik. Bobby and Charlie are playing cards, and I thought I’d get some air. I see I’m not the only one feeling the need.’

Erik shrugged. ‘It gets close down below sometimes.’

‘And sometimes a man likes to be alone with his own thoughts, isn’t that true, Erik?’

‘Sometimes,’ said Erik. Not knowing why, he said, ‘But I don’t dwell much on things. It’s not my way. Roo, now, he worries enough for a whole family, but …’

‘But what?’

‘Maybe it was my mother,’ said Erik, suddenly missing her. ‘She was always worried about this or that, and, well, I never really had much on my mind most of the time.’

‘No ambitions?’

‘Just to earn a forge of my own someday.’

Calis nodded, the gesture half seen in the dim light of a nearby lantern. ‘A respectable goal.’

‘What of you?’ Erik was suddenly embarrassed at his own presumption, but Calis smiled.

‘My goals?’ He turned and leaned upon the rail, both elbows resting on it as he gazed into the darkness. ‘It would be hard to explain.’

Erik said, ‘I wasn’t trying to pry … sir.’

Calis said, ‘Start calling me Captain, Erik. Bobby’s our sergeant and Charlie’s the corporal, and you’re part of the Crimson Eagles, the most feared mercenary band in our homeland.’

‘Sir?’ said Erik. ‘I don’t understand.’

Calis said, ‘You will, soon enough.’ Looking at the horizon, he said, ‘We’ll be there shortly.’

‘Where, sir … Captain?’

‘Sorcerer’s Isle. I need to speak to an old friend.’

Erik stood silently, uncertain what to do or say next, until Calis relieved him of that burden. ‘Why don’t you go below and join your companions,’ he suggested.

‘Yes, Captain,’ said Erik and started to move, but stopped. ‘Ah, Captain, should I salute you or something?’

With a strange smile, what Owen Greylock called ironic, Erik thought, Calis said, ‘We’re mercenaries, not the bloody army, Erik.’

Erik nodded and turned away. Shortly he was back in his bunk. While Jadow regaled the others with tales of women he had known and battles he had single-handedly won, Erik lay half listening, half wondering just what Calis had meant.

‘Captain!’

Erik paused as he secured a line. The sound of the lookout’s voice had carried a troubling note with it.

‘What do you see?’ came the Captain’s reply.

‘Something dead ahead, sir. Lights or lightning. I don’t rightly know.’

Erik quickly made the line fast and turned to look ahead. It was near dusk, but the sun off the port bow made it hard to see anything. He squinted against the sunset glare, then saw it: a faint flash of silver.

Roo came to stand next to his friend. ‘What is it?’

‘Lightning, I think,’ said Erik.

‘Great. A storm at sea,’ said Roo. It had been pleasant sailing for almost a month as they had fought a tacking course out of Krondor toward their destination. One of the sailors had said that had they been heading the other way, they could have made the trip in one third the time.

‘You boys got nothing to do?’ came a familiar voice from behind them, and Erik and Roo were back up the rigging before Corporal Foster could inform Mr Collins that they needed to be assigned more work.

Reaching the top yard on the mainmast, they began securing lines that really didn’t need securing. They wanted a look at the coming storm.

As the sun lowered beyond the horizon, there were no clouds ahead, but they could clearly see arcs of incredible brightness. ‘What is that?’ asked Roo.

‘Nothing good,’ said Erik, and he started making his way back down toward the deck.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To report to Mr Collins I’ve secured the lines and to get orders. No sense staring at whatever’s ahead, Roo. We’ll get there soon enough.’

Roo hung back, watching as the bright arcs reappeared against the darkening sky, silver bolts that arched into the heavens. He imagined they carried thunderous booms or sizzling discharges, but from this distance they were silent. He felt chilled, yet the evening air was warm. He glanced down and saw that half the crew was straining to see what was ahead.

He lingered a moment, then headed down after his friend.

Throughout the night they drew closer to Sorcerer’s Isle. Near dawn the first of the cracking sounds that accompanied the energy displays could be heard. By the time the day watch was to be roused, no man on the ship was asleep.

Word of their destination had circulated through the crew, though Erik had told no one what Calis had told him. Sorcerer’s Isle, home to the legendary Black Sorcerer. Some called him Macros, while others said his name was a Tsurani one, and still others said he was the King of Dark Magic. No one knew the truth, Erik decided, but everyone who spoke knew of someone who knew someone who had talked to another who had barely survived a visit to the island.

Terrible stories of mayhem and horrors so vile that death was the least of them were passed around between sundown and dawn, so by the time Erik and his companions came up on deck, the mood of the ship was fearful.

Erik almost exclaimed at the sight that greeted him. An island lay off the starboard bow, large enough that it would take hours to sail around, and dominated by a high wall of cliffs. Atop the highest point of that cliff face, a black castle – a malignant-looking thing of four towers and stone walls – rose high against the sky. It sat atop a massive stone chimney, an upthrust finger of land, separated from the rest of the island by tidal action, which had cut a cleft as impassable as any moat. A drawbridge could be lowered to cross the cleft, but it was presently raised.

The castle was the source of the terrible arcs of energy, silver flashes that rose high into the sky, vanishing in the clouds, accompanied by a sizzling whine that hurt the ears.

Blue lights shone from a high tower window overlooking the ocean, and Erik thought he detected movement upon the walls. ‘Von Darkmoor!’ Robert de Loungville’s voice brought the young smith out of his revery.

‘Sergeant?’ said Erik.

‘You, Biggo, Jadow, and Jerome will come with Calis and me. Get the longboat over the side.’

Erik and the others named, aided by four experienced sailors, got the longboat off the davits and over the side in quick order. Calis came up on deck and without a word to anyone scampered down the ladder to the boat. De Loungville and two sailors came next, then Erik led the designated prisoners.

As Erik reached the rail, he was handed a sword and scabbard and a shield by Corporal Foster. He slung the baldric over his shoulder, secured the shield to his back, and went down the ladder. This was the first time he had been handed a weapon when it wasn’t a training exercise, and it made him nervous.

The boat pushed away from the ship and headed toward a small beach that swept away from the rocky pinnacle upon which the castle rested. The sailors were experienced, and Erik and Biggo were strong, so the boat made quick time getting in to shore.

When they landed, Calis said, ‘Keep alert. You never know what to expect here.’

Robert de Loungville nodded, a wry smile on his face. ‘That’s the gods’ awful truth.’

Suddenly a figure reared up out of the bushes near the top of an overlooking ridge, beside a small path that led up from the beach. The creature was easily ten or eleven feet tall, clothed in black and waving long arms within huge sleeves. A spectral voice issued from within a giant cowl, hiding the creature’s face. ‘Despair! All who trespass upon the Black One’s island are doomed! Flee now, or be destroyed in agony!’

Erik felt the hairs rise on his neck and arms. Biggo made a sign warding off evil, while Jadow and Jerome both drew their swords and crouched low.

Calis stood motionless, while Robert de Loungville pointed a thumb at the creature with a backwards wave of his hand. ‘I think he means it,’ he said with a grin.

Facing the advancing creature, de Loungville said, ‘Why don’t you come on down here, me darling, and I’ll give you a big wet kiss.’

Erik’s eyebrows shot up, and Calis smiled at his friend. The creature tilted, as if the brashness of de Loungville’s words caused it to lose its balance; then Erik was astonished to see it collapse.

He saw long wooden sticks fall within the hooded robe, and a small man emerged from inside the folds of black cloth. He was a bandy-legged fellow, obviously an Isalani from his appearance, and he wore a tattered robe of orange cloth, slashed at the knees and sleeves. ‘Bobby?’ he said. Then his face split in a grin and he let out a yelp of pure joy. ‘Calis!’ He raced down to the sand and almost leaped into de Loungville’s arms. Erik thought the two men daft as they slapped each other on the back.

Calis embraced the little man. ‘That’s quite a show you have going there, Nakor.’

The little man’s face split into a grin, and suddenly Erik realized that he was standing with his sword drawn, while his heart was still beating rapidly. He glanced around and saw the others were also holding their weapons ready.

The man called Nakor said, ‘Had some trouble with some Quegan pirates a few years back. That little blue light didn’t scare them away, so I added those lightning bolts. Impressive, I think,’ he added with a self-congratulatory note. ‘It starts whenever someone gets close enough to see the island on the horizon. But when you kept sailing toward us, I thought I had better come down here and scare you away.’ He pointed to the fallen contraption of robe and sticks.

‘The Black Sorcerer?’ said Robert.

‘For the time being,’ answered Nakor with a grin. He glanced at the four guards and said, ‘Tell your men I won’t hurt them.’

Calis turned and, with a wave of his hand, said, ‘Put your weapons away. He’s an old friend.’

‘Where’s Pug?’ asked De Loungville.

‘Gone,’ said Nakor with a shrug. ‘Left about three years ago. Said he’d be back one of these days.’

‘Do you know where he went?’ asked Calis. ‘It’s very important.’

Nakor shrugged. ‘It’s always important with Pug. That’s why he left, I think. All the troubles down south –’

‘You know?’ said Calis.

Nakor grinned. ‘Some. You can tell me the rest. You want something hot to eat?’