Read Online Prince of the Blood by Raymond Feist - Free Book Online Page A

“Gods and demons, Uncle Jimmy, look at the size of that place!”
    James nodded. “I had heard they were building a massive center for learning, but the tales never did it justice.”
    Locklear said, “Duke Gardan visited here many years ago. He told me they had laid a huge foundation for the building … but this is larger than anything I’ve seen.”
    Glancing at the falling light, James said, “If we hurry, we’ll make the island within the next two hours. I’d rather a warm meal and clean bed than another night on the trail.” Setting heels to his horse’s sides, he moved on.
    Under a canopy of brilliant stars on one of the rare nights when all three moons had yet to rise, they passed through a small gap between hillocks and entered a prosperous-looking town. Torches and lanterns blazed at every storefront—an extravagance in all but the wealthiest of towns and cities—and children ran after them, shouting and laughing in the general confusion. Beggars and prostitutes asked favors or offered them respectively, and ramshackle taverns stood open to provide the weary traveler with a cool drink, hot meal, and warm company.
    Locklear shouted over the noise, “Quite a prosperous little metropolis growing here.”
    James glanced about at the dirt and squalor. “Quite. The blessings of civilization,” he observed.
    Borric said, “Perhaps we should investigate one of these small pubs—”
    “No,” answered James. “They’re certain to offer you refreshments at the Academy.”
    Erland smiled ruefully. “A sweet and slightly feeble wine, no doubt. What else would one expect from an assemblage of old scholars, poking around in musty piles of manuscripts.”
    James shook his head. They came to what was obviously the crossroads of the two main streets in the town and turned toward the lake. As James expected, down near the waterfront a large pier had been constructed and several ferries of differing sizes waited to haul goods and people to the island. Despite the late hour, workers still stacked sacks of grain against the need of hauling them the next morning.
    Reining in, James called down to the nearest ferryman, “Good evening. We seek passage to Stardock island.”
    A face, dominated by a hawk-beaked nose, with ill-cut bangs almost hiding the eyes, was revealed as the man glanced over his shoulder and said, “I can make one quick run across, sir. Five coppers a man, sir, but you need stable your horses here.”
    Jimmy smiled. “How about ten gold pieces for the lot of us, including the mounts?”
    The man returned to his work. “No bargaining, sir.”
    Borric rattled his sword a bit as he said, half-jokingly, “What, you turn your back upon us?”
    The man turned again to face them. Touching his forehead, in slightly sarcastic tones, he said, “Sorry, young sir, but no disrespect was intended.”
    Borric was about to respond, when James tapped his arm with a gloved hand and pointed. In the gloom, just out of the light of a guttering torch, a young man in a plain robe of homespun sat at the dockside watching the interplay calmly.
    Borric said, “What?”
    “The local constable, I expect.”
    “Him?” said Borric. “He looks more a beggar or monk than any sort of fighting man.”
    The ferryman nodded. “Right you are, sir. He’s our Peacekeeper.” He grinned up at James. “You know your way around, sir. Yes, you do. That’s one of the magicians from the island. The council that runs the place keeps it peaceful-like over here in Stardock Town, so they make sure that we have the means. He has no sword, young sir,” he said to Borric, “but with a wave of his hand he can stun you worse than a poleax to the noggin. Believe me, sir, I found that out the hard way.” His voice falling to a near mutter, he added, “Or, it could be the magic what sets you to itching so bad you wish to die.…” Returning to the topic at hand, he raised his voice, “And as far as hagglin’, sir, as much as I do