Prince of the Blood. Raymond E. Feist

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Prince of the Blood - Raymond E. Feist


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looked stung. Newly discovered feelings rampaged through him and his usual pose of relaxed confidence was absent. He looked nothing more than the boy he had never truly been, confused and disturbed by the loving attentions of a woman. ‘Do you think so little of me, after all?’

      Touching his cheek, she smiled, and the warmth of her loving gaze swept away the fear again, as it had a dozen times during the day. Gamina had read James’s heart and soul when she had revived him upon the lakeshore and had shared herself with him, both her body and heart. Still, trust for James was grudgingly surrendered, even to the woman who had touched him as no other had. ‘No, love, I do not underestimate you. But I also do not underestimate fear. My talents are not just magic as others upon this island know it. My skills are also in healing the mind and heart. I can share things with those who are weakened in spirit and sick of mind, and help them, sometimes. I can listen to dreams. And I have seen what fear can do. You fear being left again as you were by your mother.’

      James knew she was right. Even as she spoke, the feelings of that dreadful night returned, when as a child of six or seven he stole out of his mother’s crib, the stickiness upon the floor her blood, the horror of knowing only utter abandonment. Unbidden tears came to James’s eyes. Gamina gathered him into her arms and let him vent his pain. You will never be alone again, came her thoughts in his mind.

      He stood motionless, holding her as if she were his only connection to life. And as it had before, the pain slipped away, leaving behind a tired but warm and relieved feeling. Something angry and festering within him for years had been lanced, and poisonous fear and loneliness were draining away. The wound wouldn’t heal in the space of a single day, or even many days, but in time it would heal and James of Krondor would be the better man for the healing. Her voice came to him as she said, And it is my fear speaking, as well. Doubt can make us all vulnerable.

      ‘I have no doubt,’ he answered simply. She smiled as she again hugged him tight.

      The sounds of footfalls upon the ground and a pointed clearing of a throat signalled Locklear’s arrival. ‘Sorry to intrude, but Pug would like to see you, James.’ He smiled apologetically. ‘And your mother would like you to join her in the kitchen, Gamina.’

      ‘Thank you,’ Gamina answered. She gifted Locklear with a warm smile and kissed James on the cheek. ‘I will see you at dinner.’

      He kissed her again, and she headed toward the kitchen. James and Locklear walked toward Pug’s study. Locklear cleared his throat in a significant, theatrical manner.

      James said, ‘You’ve got something on your mind. Out with it.’

      Locklear’s words came in a rush. ‘Look, we’ve known each other, what, twenty-two years? In all that time I’ve never known you to show the least bit of interest in women—’ James gave him a strange look and he amended that to, ‘—I mean interest in marriage, at least. Now, out of nowhere, you suddenly walk in and announce to all that you’re getting married! I mean, she’s certainly a beauty, with that nearly-white hair and all, but you’ve known—’

      ‘I’ve known no one, nothing, like Gamina,’ Jimmy interrupted. He stopped his companion with a restraining hand to Locklear’s chest. ‘I don’t know if someone like you can understand, Locky, but she’s seen inside of me. She’s seen all there is to see, the bad I’ve done and felt, the things that I’ve only hinted at to you, and she loves me despite those things. She loves me, anyway!’ He took a deep breath. ‘You will never know what that means.’

      He resumed walking and Locklear hesitated an instant before catching up. ‘What do you mean “someone like you”?’

      James halted again. ‘Look, you’re the best friend – perhaps the only real friend – I’ve ever known, but when it comes to women … you have no … consideration. You’re charming, you’re attentive, you’re persistent, and when the lady in question wakes up in your bed, you’re gone. I don’t know if you’ve ever really loved a woman, and sometimes, I’m not entirely sure you really even like them. You certainly don’t take their feelings into account. Why some woman’s brother or father hasn’t run a sword through you … When it comes to you and women, Locky, you just are not very constant.’

      ‘And you are?’

      ‘I am now,’ James answered. ‘As constant as water running downhill.’

      Locklear said, ‘Well, we’ll see what Arutha has to say about this headlong flight into matrimony. We court Barons need his permission to marry, remember?’

      ‘I know.’

      ‘Well, I’ll leave you to your meeting with the spellcaster,’ Locklear said as they reached the door to the Academy building. ‘I expect he’ll also have a thing or two to say about you spiriting away his daughter.’ Locklear left James alone at the entrance.

      James entered the building and made his way down a long corridor to the base of the tower, the top of which housed Pug’s study. He mounted a spiral stairway and climbed until he reached the door of the study. As he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open to admit him. Stepping through the portal, he was not surprised to discover Pug alone in the study, some distance away from the door. After he was inside, the door closed behind James without apparent aid.

      ‘We need to speak,’ Pug said, as he rose and beckoned James to a large window. Looking out, he pointed at small lights which dotted the far shore. ‘People,’ he said.

      James shrugged. He knew the sorcerer hadn’t called him to his presence to discuss the obvious.

      ‘When we came to Stardock over twenty years ago, this was a barren patch of ground in the middle of a deserted lake. The shore was a bit more hospitable, but this Vale was the scene of constant warfare between the Kingdom and the Empire, between rival border lords, or gangs of renegades. Durbin slavers raided, and simple bandits plagued the farmers as much as locust.’ He sighed as he remembered. ‘Now people lead relatively peaceful lives. Oh, there are occasional problems, but for the most part, things in the area of the Great Star Lake are quiet. And what caused that change?’ he asked James.

      James said, ‘It doesn’t take a genius to deduce your presence here caused that change. Pug.’

      Pug turned away from the view of the lake shore and said, ‘Jimmy, when we first met I was a young man and you were a boy. But in the time between then and now I’ve encountered more than most men could imagine in a dozen lifetimes.’ With a simple wave of his hand he created a cloud in the middle of the room, less than two feet in diameter. It shimmered, then appeared a hole in the air, through which James could see a strange hall. It was a hall hanging in the midst of a grey nothingness, along the path of which doors were spaced every dozen yards or so. The grey void of nothingness between the doors was so absolute that even the black of night seemed rich and alive in comparison. ‘The Hall of Worlds,’ said Pug. ‘By this path I have ventured to places no human has seen, nor will likely see again. I have visited the ashes of ancient civilizations and seen new races aborning. I have counted stars and grains of sand both, and find that the universe is so vast that no mind, perhaps not even that of a god, could encompass it.’

      Pug waved his hand and the image vanished. ‘It would become easy to dismiss the concerns of those who live in such a tiny place as the Vale as trivial.’

      James crossed his arms as he said, ‘Compared to that, it is trivial.’

      Pug shook his head. ‘Not to those who live here.’

      James sat without Pug’s leave and said, ‘I know there’s a point to this. Pug.’

      Pug returned to his own chair behind his study table and said, ‘Yes, there is. Katala is dying.’

      That news, unexpected as well as shocking, caught James by surprise. ‘I thought she appeared unwell, but dying …’

      ‘There is much we can do here, James, but there are limits. No magic, potion, charm, or prayer can do more for my wife than has already been done. There is a link between healing magic and something profound in the human


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