Magician (Riftware Sage Book 1)

“Who was your last master, and why did you leave his service?”

 

 

Radburn laughed, a friendly sound. “Well, I last sailed with a company of barge ferrymen, taking cargo from ship to shore in the harbor. Been stuck doing that for a year.” He fell silent as the serving wench approached. Amos ordered another round of ale, and when one was set before Radburn, he said, “Thank you, Captain.” He took a long pull and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Before I came to be beached, I sailed with Captain John Avery, aboard the Bantamma.”

 

“I know the Little Rooster, and John Avery, though I haven’t seen him since I was last in Durbin, five or six years back.”

 

“Well, I got a little drunk, and the captain told me he’d have none who drank aboard his ship I drink no more than the next man, Captain, but you know Master Avery’s reputation, being an abstentious follower of Sung the White.”

 

Amos looked at Martin and Arutha, but said nothing Radburn said, “These your officers, Captain?”

 

“No, business partners.” When it was clear Amos was going to say nothing more, Radburn let the topic of identities drop. Amos finally said, “We’ve been in the city little more than a week, and I’ve been busy with personal matters. What news?”

 

Radburn shrugged. “The war goes on Good for the merchants, bad for the rest. Now we’ve the business with Kesh. Before the troubles was along the Far Coast, but now . . . Krondor might not prove such a healthy spot if the Viceroy doesn’t chase the dogs of Kesh back home. Otherwise, there’s the usual gossip . . .” He glanced around, as looking for anyone who might overhear. “. . . and some not so usual.”

 

Amos lifted his mug to his lips saying nothing. “Since the Viceroy’s come,” said Radburn quietly, “things haven’t been the same in Krondor. An honest man isn’t safe on the streets anymore, what with Durbin slavers running about and the press gangs almost as bad. That’s why I need a ship, Captain.”

 

“Press gangs!” Amos exploded. “There hasn’t been a press gang in a Kingdom city in thirty years.”

 

“Once was, but now things have changed again. You get a little drunk and don’t find a safe berth for the night, the press gang comes along and slaps you into the dungeon. It just isn’t right, no sir. Just because a man’s between ships doesn’t give anyone the right to ship him out with Lord Jessup’s fleet for seven years. Seven years of chasing pirates and fighting Quegan war galleys!”

 

Amos’s eyes narrowed. “How is it that Guy rules in Krondor? We’ve heard stories, but they seem confused.”

 

Radburn nodded. “Right you are, Captain. For it is confusing. A month ago, Lord Guy rides in with his army behind, flags a’wavmg, drums beating, and the rest. The Prince, so they say, welcomes him and treats him real friendly, even though du Bas-Tyra is carrying the King’s writ naming him Viceroy. The Prince even helps him, they say, until this business of the press gangs and such comes to his ears.” Lowering his voice more, he said, “I heard that when he complained, Guy locks him up in his rooms. Nice rooms, I expect, but same as a cell if you can’t leave. So I hear.”

 

Arutha was so outraged by the story, he was on the verge of speaking. Amos gripped his arm quickly, warning silence, then said, “Well, Radburn, I can always use a good man who’s sailed with John Avery. I’ll tell you what. I’ve one more trip to the ship to make tonight, and there’re some personal belongings in my room I’ll want aboard. Come along and carry them.”

 

Amos rose and, giving the man no time to object, gripped him by the arm and propelled him toward the stairs. Arutha shot a glance at the group who entered with Radburn. They seemed unaware for the moment of what was transpiring across the crowded common room as Amos took Radburn up the stairs, Arutha and Martin following behind.

 

Amos hustled Radburn down the hall and, once through the door to their room, spun and delivered a staggering blow to Radburn’s stomach, doubling him over. A brutal knee to the face, and Radburn lay stunned upon the floor.

 

“What is this all about?” said Arutha.

 

“That man’s a liar. John Avery’s a marked man in Kesh. He betrayed the Durbin captains to a Quegan raiding fleet twenty years ago. Yet Radburn didn’t bat an eye when I said I saw Avery in Durbin six years ago. And he’s too free in showing disrespect to the Viceroy. His story stinks like a week-dead fish. We go out the door with him, and inside of two blocks a dozen men or more will be upon us.”

 

“What shall we do?” said Arutha.