Raymond E. Feist - Riftwar Saga 1b - Magician Master

Magician:Master

By

Raymond E. Feist

Part Two of a Two Part Story

Magician: Master

ONE SLAVE

TWO ESTATE

THREE CHANGELING

FOUR TRAINING

FIVE VOYAGE

SIX KRONDOR

SEVEN ESCAPE

EIGHT GREAT ONE

NINE FUSION

TEN EMISSARY

ELEVEN DECISION

TWELVE UPHEAVAL

THIRTEEN DECEPTIONS

FOURTEEN BETRAYAL

FIFTEEN LEGACY

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

SIXTEEN RENAISSANCE

ONE SLAVE

THE DYING SLAVE LAY SCREAMING.

The day was unmercifully hot. The other slaves went about their work, ignoring the sound as much as

possible. Life in the work camp was cheap, and it did no good to dwell on the fate that awaited so many.

The dying man had been bitten by a relli, a snakelike swamp creature. Its venom was slow-acting and

painful; short of magic, there was no cure.

Suddenly there was silence. Pug looked over to see a Tsurani guard wipe off his sword. A hand fell

on Pug's shoulder. Laurie's voice whispered in his ear, "Looks like our venerable overseer was disturbed

by the sound of Toffston's dying."

Pug tied a coil of rope securely around his waist. "At least it ended quickly." He turned to the tall,

blond singer from the Kingdom city of Tyr-Sog and said, "Keep a sharp eye out. This one's old and may

be rotten." Without another word. Pug scampered up the bole of the ngaggi tree, a firiike swamp tree the

Tsurani harvested for wood and resins. With few metals, the Tsurani had become clever in finding many

substitutes. The wood of this tree could be worked Uke paper, then dried to an incredible hardness,

useful in fashioning .a hundred things. The resins were used to laminate woods and cure hides. Properly

cured hides could produce a suit of leather armor as tough as Midkemian chain mail, and laminated

wooden weapons were nearly the match of Midkemian steel.

Four years in the swamp camp had hardened Pug's body. His sinewy muscles strained as he climbed

the tree. His skin had been tanned deeply by the harsh sun of the Tsurani homeworld. His face was

covered by a slave's beard.

Pug reached the first large branches and looked down at his friend. Laurie stood knee-deep in the

murky water, absently swatting at the insects that plagued them while they worked. Pug liked Laurie. The

troubadour had no business being here, but then he had had no business tagging along with a patrol in the

hope of seeing Tsurani soldiers, either. He said he had wanted material for ballads that would make him

famous throughout the Kingdom. He had seen more than he had hoped for. The patrol had ridden into a

major Tsurani offensive and Laurie had been captured. He had come to this camp over four months ago,

and he and Pug had quickly become friends.

Pug continued his climb, keeping one eye always searching for the dangerous tree dwellers of

Kelewan. Reaching the most likely place for a topping. Pug froze as he caught a glimpse of movement.

He relaxed when he saw it was only a needier, a creature whose protection was its resemblance to a

clump of ngaggi needles. It scurried away from the presence of the human and made the short jump to

the branch of a neighboring tree. Pug made another survey and started tying his ropes. His job was to cut

away the tops of the huge trees, making the fall less dangerous to those below.

Pug took several cuts at the bark, then felt the edge of his wooden ax bite into the softer pulp

beneath. A faint pungent odor greeted his careful sniffing. Swearing, he called down to Laurie, "This one's

rotten. Tell the overseer."

He waited, looking out over the tops of trees. All around, strange insects and birdlike creatures flew.

In the four years he had been a slave on this world, he had not grown used to the appearance of these life

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

forms. They were not all that different from those on Midkemia, but it was the similarities as much as the

differences that kept reminding him this was not his home. Bees should be yellow-and-black-striped, not

bright red. Eagles shouldn't have yellow bands on their wings, nor hawks purple. These creatures were

not bees, eagles, or hawks, but the resemblance was striking. Pug found it easier to accept the stranger

creatures of Kelewan than these. The six-legged needra, the domesticated beast of burden that looked

like some sort of bovine with two extra stumpy legs, or the cho-ja, the insectoid creature who served the

Tsurani and could speak their language: these he had come to find familiar. But each time he glimpsed a

creature from the corner of his eye and turned, expecting it to be Midkemian only to find it was not, then

the despair would strike.

Laurie's voice brought him from his reverie. "The overseer comes."

Pug swore. If the overseer had to get himself dirty by wading in the water, then he would be in a foul

mood— which could mean beatings, or a reduction in the chronically meager food. He would already be

angered by the delay in the cutting. A family of burrowers, beaverlike six- legged creatures, had made

themselves at home in the roots of the great trees. They would gnaw the tender roots and the trees would

sicken and die. The soft, pulpy wood would turn sour, then watery, and after a while the tree would

collapse from within. Several burrower tunnels had been poisoned, but the damage had already been

done to the trees.

A rough voice, swearing mightily while its owner splashed through the swamp, announced the arrival

of the overseer, Nogamu. He himself was a slave, but he had attained the highest rank a slave could rise

to, and while he could never hope to be free, he had many privileges and could order soldiers or freemen

placed under his command. A young soldier came walking behind, a look of mild amusement on his face.

He was clean-shaven in the manner of a Tsurani freeman, and as he looked up at Pug, the slave could get

a good look at him. He had the high cheekbones and nearly black eyes that so many Tsurani possessed.

His dark eyes caught sight of Pug, and he seemed to nod slightly. His blue armor was of a type unknown

to Pug, but with the strange Tsurani military organization, that was not surprising. Every family, demesne,

area, town, city, and province appeared to have its own army. How they all related one to another within

the Empire was beyond Pug's understanding.

The overseer stood at the base of the free, his short robe held above the water. He growled like the

bear he resembled and shouted up at Pug, "What's this about another rotten tree?"

Pug spoke the Tsurani language better than any Midkemian in the camp, for he had been there longer

than all but a few old Tsurani slaves. He shouted down, "It smells of rot. We should re-rig another and

leave this one alone. Slave Master."

The overseer shook his fist. "You are all lazy. There is nothing wrong with this tree. It is fine. You only

want to keep from working. Now cut it!"

Pug sighed. There was no arguing with the Bear, as all the Midkemian slaves called Nogamu. He was

obviously upset about something, and the slaves would pay the price. Pug started hacking through the

upper section, and it soon fell to the ground. The smell of rot was thick, and Pug removed the ropes

quickly. Just as the last length was coiled around his waist, a splitting sound came from directly in front of

him. "It falls!" he shouted down to the slaves standing in the water below. Without hesitation they all ran.

The cry of "falls" was never ignored.

The bole of the tree was splitting down the middle now that the top had been cut away. While this

was not common, if a tree was far enough gone for the pulp to have lost its strength, any flaw in the bark

could cause it to split under its own weight. The tree's branches would pull the halves away from each

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

other. Had Pug been tied to the bole, the ropes would have cut him in half before they snapped.

Pug gauged the direction of the fall, then as the half he stood upon started to move, he launched

himself away from it. He hit the water flat, back first, trying to let the two feet of water break his fall as

much as possible. The blow from the water was immediately followed by the harder impact with the

ground. The bottom was mostly mud, so there was little damage done. The air in his lungs exploded from

his mouth when he struck, and his senses reeled for a moment. He retained enough presence of mind to

sit up and gasped a deep lungful of air.

Suddenly a heavy weight hit him across the stomach, knocking the wind from him and pushing his

head back underwater. He struggled to move and found a large branch across his stomach. He could

barely get his face out of the water to get air. His lungs burned and he breathed without control. Water

came pouring down his windpipe, and he started to choke. Coughing and sputtering, he tried to keep

calm but felt panic rise within him. He frantically pushed at the weight across him but couldn't move it.

Abruptly he found his head above water; Laurie said, "Spit, Pug! Get the muck out of your lungs, or

you'll get lung fever."

Pug coughed and spit. With Laurie holding his head, he coutd catch his breath.

Laurie shouted, "Grab this branch. I'll pull him out from under."

Several slaves splashed over, sweat beading their bodies. They reached underwater and seized the

branch. Heaving, they managed to move it slightly, but Laurie couldn't drag Pug out.

"Bring axes; we'll have to cut the branch from the tree."

Other slaves were starting to bring axes over when Nogamu shouted, "No. Leave him. We have no

time for this. There are trees to cut."

Laurie nearly screamed at him, "We can't leave him! He'll drown!"

The overseer crossed over and struck Laurie across the face with a lash. It cut deep into the singer's

cheek, but he didn't let go of his friend's head. "Back to work, slave. You'll be beaten tonight for

speaking to me that way. There are others who can top. Now, let him go!" He struck Laurie again.

Laurie winced, but held Pug's head above water.

Nogamu raised his lash for a third blow, but was halted by a voice from behind. "Cut the slave from

under the branch." Laurie saw the speaker was the young soldier who had accompanied the slave

master. The overseer whirled about, unaccustomed to having his orders ques- tioned. When he saw who

had spoken, he bit back the words that were on his lips. Bowing his head, he said, "My lord's will."

He signaled for the slaves with the axes to cut Pug loose, and in short order Pug was out from under

the branch. Laurie carried him over to where the young soldier stood. Pug coughed the last water from

out of his lungs and gasped, "I thank the master for my life."

The man said nothing, but when the overseer ap- proached, directed his remarks to him. "The slave

was right, and you were not. The tree was rotten. It is not proper for you to punish him for your bad

judgment and ill-temper. I should have you beaten, but will not spare the time for it. The work goes

slowly, and my father is displeased."

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Nogamu bowed his head. "I lose much face in my lord's sight. May I have his permission to kill

myself?" "No. It is too much honor. Return to work." The overseer's face grew red in silent shame and

rage.

Raising his lash, he pointed at Laurie and Pug. "You two, bac to work."

Laurie stood, and Pug tried. His knees were wobbly from his near-drowning, but he managed to

stand after a few attempts.

"These two shall be excused work the rest of the day," the young lord said. "This one"—he pointed to

Pug—"is of little use. The other must dress those cuts you gave him, or festering will start." He turned to a

guard. "Take them back to camp and see to their needs."

Pug was grateful, not so much for himself as for Laurie. With a little rest. Pug could have returned to

work, but an open wound in the swamp was a death warrant as ;1 often as not. Infections came quickly

in this hot, dirty | place, and there were few ways of dealing with them. •

They followed the guard. As they left. Pug could see the slave master watching them with naked

hatred in his eyes.

There was a creaking of floorboards and Pug came instantly awake. His slave-bred wariness told him

that the sound didn't belong in the hut during the dead of night.

Through the gloom, footfalls could be heard coming closer, then they stopped at the foot of his pallet.

From the next pallet, he could hear Laurie's sharp intake of breath, and he knew the minstrel was awake

also. Probably half the slaves had been awakened by the intruder. The stranger hesitated over something,

and Pug waited, tense with uncertainty. There was a grunt, and without hesita-B tion. Pug rolled off his

mat. A weight came crashing down,| and Pug could hear a dull thud as a dagger struck where his chest

had been only moments before. Suddenly the room exploded with activity. Slaves were shouting, and

could be heard running for the door.

Pug felt hands reach for him in the dark, and a sharp pain exploded across his chest. He reached

blindly for his assailant and grappled with him for the blade. Another slash, and his right hand was cut

across the palm. Abruptly the attacker stopped moving, and Pug became aware that a third body was

atop the would-be assassin.

Soldiers rushed into the hut, carrying lanterns, and Pug could see Laurie lying across the still body of

Nogamu. The Bear was still breathing, but from the way the dagger protruded from his ribs, not for long.

The young soldier who had saved Pug's and Laurie's lives entered and the others made way for him.

He stood over the three combatants and simply asked, "Is he dead?"

The overseer's eyes opened and in a faint whisper he said, "I live, lord. But I die by the blade." A

weak but defiant smile showed on his sweat-drenched face.

The young soldier's expression betrayed no emotion, but his eyes looked as if ablaze. "I think not," he

said softly. He turned to two of the soldiers in the room. "Take him outside at once and hang him. There

will be no honors for his clan to sing. Leave the body there for the insects. It shall be a warning that I am

not to be disobeyed. Go."

The dying man's face paled, and his lips quivered. "No, master. I pray, leave me to die by the blade.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

A few minutes longer." Bloody foam appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Two husky soldiers reached down for Nogamu and, with little thought for his pain, dragged him

outside. He could be heard wailing the entire way. The amount of strength left in his voice was amazing,

as if his fear of the rope had awakened some deep reserve.

They stood in frozen tableau until the sound was cut off in a strangled cry. The young officer then

turned to Pug and Laurie. Pug sat, blood running from the long, shallow gash across his chest. He held his

injured hand in the other. It was deeply cut, and his fingers wouldn't move.

"Bring your wounded friend," the young soldier commanded Laurie.

Laurie helped Pug to his feet and they followed the officer out of the slave hut. He led them across the

compound to his own quarters and ordered them to enter. Once inside, he instructed a guard to send for

the camp physician. He had them stand in silence until the physician arrived. He was an old Tsurani,

dressed in the robes of one of their gods, which one the Midkemians couldn't tell. He inspected Pug's

wounds and judged the chest wound superficial. The hand, he said, would be another matter.

"The cut is deep, and the muscles and tendons have been cut. It will heal, but there will be a loss of

movement and little strength for gripping. He most likely will be fit for only light duty."

The soldier nodded, a peculiar expression on his face: a mixture of disgust and impatience. "Very well.

Dress the wounds, and leave us."

The physician set about cleaning the wounds. He took a score of stitches in the hand, bandaged it,

admonished Pug to keep it clean, and left. Pug ignored the pain, easing his mind with an old mental

exercise.

After the physician was gone, the soldier studied the two slaves before him. "By law, I should have

you hung for killing the slave master."

They said nothing. They would remain silent until commanded to speak.

"But as I hung the slave master, I am free to keep you alive, should it suit my purpose. I can simply

have you punished for wounding him." He paused. "Consider yourselves punished."

With a wave of his hand he said, "Leave me, but return here at daybreak. I have to decide what to do

with you."

They left, feeling fortunate, for under most circum- stances they would now be hanging next to the

former slave master. As they crossed the compound, Laurie said, "I wonder what that was about?"

Pug responded, "I hurt too much to wonder why. I'm just thankful that we will see tomorrow."

Laurie said nothing until they reached the slave hut. "I think the young lord has something up his

sleeve."

"Whatever. I have long since given up trying to understand our masters. That's why I've stayed alive

so long, Laurie. I just do what I'm told to, and I endure." Pug pointed to the tree where the former

overseer's body could be seen in the pale moonlight—only the small moon was out tonight. "It's much too

easy to end up like that."

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Laurie nodded. "Perhaps you're right. I still think about escape."

Pug laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Where, singer? Where could you run? Toward the rift and ten

thousand Tsurani?"

Laurie said nothing. They returned to their pallets and tried to sleep in the humid heat.

The young officer sat upon a pile of cushions, Tsurani fashion. He sent the guard who had

accompanied Pug and Laurie away, then motioned for the two slaves to sit. They did so hesitantly, for a

slave was not usually permitted to sit in a master's presence.

"I am Hokanu, of the Shinzawai. My father owns this camp," he said without preamble. "He is deeply

dissatis- fied with the harvest this year. He has sent me to see what can be done. Now I have no

overseer to manage the work, because a foolish man blamed you for his own stupidity. What am I to

do?"

They said nothing, for they were not sure if the question was rhetorical. He asked, "You have been

here, how long?"

Pug and Laurie answered in turn. He considered the answers, then said, "You"—pointing at

Laurie—"are noth- ing unusual, save you speak our tongue better than most barbarians, all things

considered. But you"—pointing at Pug—"have stayed alive longer than most of your stiff- necked

countrymen and also speak our language well. You might even pass for a peasant from a remote

province."

They sat still, unsure of what Hokanu was leading up to. Pug realized with a shock that he was

probably older by a year or two than this young lord. He was young for such power. The ways of the

Tsurani were very strange. In Crydee he would still be an apprentice, or if noble, continuing his education

in statecraft.

"How do you speak so well?" he asked of Pug.

"Master, I was among the first captured and brought here. There were only seven of us among so

many Tsurani slaves. We learned to survive. After some time, I was the only one left. The others died of

the burning fever or festering wounds, or were killed by the guards. There were none for me to talk with

who spoke my own language. No other countryman came to this camp for over a year."

The officer nodded, then to Laurie said, "And you?"

"Master, I am a singer, a minstrel in my own land. It is our custom to travel broadly, and we must

learn many tongues. I have also a good ear for music. Your language is what is called a tone language on

my world; words with the same sound save for the pitch with which they are spoken have different

meanings. We have several such tongues to the south of our Kingdom. I leam quickly."

A glimmering appeared in the eyes of the soldier. "It is good to know these things." He lapsed deep

into thought. After a moment he nodded to himself. "There are many considerations that fashion a man's

fortune, slaves." He smiled, looking more like a boy than a man. "This camp is a shambles. I am to

prepare a report for my father, the Lord of the Shinzawai. I think I know what the problems are." He

pointed at Pug. "I would have your thoughts on the subject. You have been here longer than anyone."

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Pug composed himself. It had been a long time since anyone had asked him to venture an opinion on

anything. "Master, the first overseer, the one who was here when I was captured, was a shrewd man,

who understood that men, even slaves, cannot be made to work well if they are weak from hunger. We

had better food and if injured were given time for healing. Nogamu was an ill-tempered man who took

every setback as a personal affront. Should burrowers ruin a grove, it was the fault of the slaves. Should

a slave die, it was a plot to discredit his oversight of the work force. Each difficulty was rewarded by

another cut in food, or in longer work hours. Any good fortune was regarded as his rightful due."

"I suspected as much. Nogamu was at one time a very important man. He was the

hadonra—demesne manager— of his father's estates. His family was found to be guuty of plotting against

the Empire, and his own clan sold them all into slavery, those that were not hung. He was never a good

slave. It was thought that giving him responsibility for the camp might find some useful channel for his

skills. It proved not to be the case.

"Is there a good man among the slaves who could command ably?"

Laurie inclined his head, then said, "Master, Pug here . . ."

"I think not. I have plans for you both."

Pug was surprised, and wondered what he meant. He said, "Perhaps Chogana, master. He was a

farmer, until his crops failed and he was sold into slavery for taxes. He has a level head."

The soldier clapped his hands once, and a guard was in the room in an instant. "Send for the slave

Chogana."

The guard saluted and left. "It is good that he is Tsurani," said the soldier. "You barbarians do not

know your place, and I hate to think what would happen should I leave one in charge. He would have

my soldiers cutting the trees while the slaves stood guard."

There was a moment of silence, then Laurie laughed. It was a rich, deep sound. Hokanu smiled. Pug

watched closely. The young man who had their lives in his hands seemed to be working hard at winning

their trust. Laurie appeared to have taken a liking to him, but Pug held his feelings in check. He was

further removed from the old Midkemian society, where war made noble and commoner

comrades-in-arms, able to share meals and misery without regard for rank. One thing he had learned

about the Tsurani early on was that they never for an instant forgot their station. Whatever was occurring

in this hut was by this young soldier's design, not by chance. Hokanu seemed to feel Pug's eyes upon him

and looked at him. Their eyes locked briefly before Pug dropped his as a slave is expected to do. For an

instant a communication passed between them. It was as if the soldier had said: You do not believe that I

am a friend. So be it, as long as you act your part.

With a wave of his "hand, Hokanu said, "Return to your hut. Rest well, for we will leave after the

noon meal."

They rose and bowed, then backed out of the hut. Pug walked in silence, but Laurie prattled. "I

wonder where we are going?" When no answer came, he added, "In any event, it will have to be a better

place than this."

Pug wondered if it would be.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

A HAND SHOOK PUG'S SHOULDER AND HE CAME AWAKE. He had been dozing in the

morning heat, taking advantage of the extra rest before he and Laurie left with the young noble after the

noon meal. Chogana, the former farmer Pug had recommended, motioned for silence, pointing to where

Laurie slept deeply.

Pug followed the old slave out of the hut, to sit in the shade of the building. Speaking slowly, as was

his fashion, Chogana said, "My lord Hokanu tells me you were instrumental in my being selected slave

master for the camp." His brown seamed face looked dignified as he bowed his head toward Pug. "I am

in your debt."

Pug returned the bow, formal and unusual in this camp. "There is no debt. You will conduct yourself

as an overseer should. You will care well for our brothers."

Chogana's old face split in a grin, revealing teeth stained brown by years of chewing tateen nuts. The

mildly narcotic nut—easily found in the swamp—did not reduce efficiency but made the work seem less

harsh. Pug had avoided the habit, for no reasons he could voice, as had most of the Midkemians. It

seemed somehow to signify a final surrender of will.

Chogana stared at the camp, his eyes narrowed to slits by the harsh light. It stood empty, except for

the young lord's bodyguard and the cook's crew. In the distance the sounds of the work crew echoed

through the trees.

"When I was a boy, on my father's farm in Szetac," began Chogana, "it was discovered I had a talent.

I was investigated, and found lacking." The meaning of that last statement was lost on Pug, but he didn't

interrupt. "So I became a farmer like my rather. But my talent was there. Sometimes I see things, Pug,

things within men. As I grew, word of my talent spread and people, mostly poor people, would come

and ask for my advice. As a young man I was arrogant and charged much, telling of what I saw. When I

was older, I was humble and took whatever was offered, but still I told what I saw. Either way, people

left angry. Do you know why?" he asked with a chuckle. Pug shook his head. "Because they didn't come

to hear the truth, they came to hear what they wanted to hear."

Pug shared Chogana's laugh. "So I pretended the talent went away, and after a time people stopped

coming to my farm. But the talent never went away. Pug, and I still can see things, sometimes. I have

seen something in you, and I would tell you before you leave forever. I will die in this camp, but you have

a different fate before you. Will you listen?" Pug said he would, and Chogana said, "Within you there is a

trapped power. What it is and what it means, I do not know."

Knowing the strange Tsurani attitude toward magi- cians, Pug felt sudden panic at the possibility

someone might have sensed his former calling. To most he was just another slave in the camp, and to a

few, a former Squire.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Chogana continued, speaking with his eyes closed. "I dreamed about you. Pug. I saw you upon a

tower and you faced a fearsome foe." He opened his eyes. "I do not know what the dream may mean,

but this you must know. Before you mount that tower to face your foe, you must seek your wal; it is that

secret center of your being, the perfect place of peace within. Once you reside there, you are safe from

all harm. Your flesh may suffer, even die, but within your wal you will endure in peace. Seek hard. Pug,

for few men find their wal."

Chogana stood. "You will leave soon. Come, we must wake Laurie."

As they walked to the hut entrance. Pug said, "Chogana, thank you. But one thing: you spoke of a foe

upon the tower. Could you mark him?"

Chogana laughed, and bobbed his head up and down. "Oh, yes, I saw him." He continued to chuckle

as he climbed the steps to the hut. "He is the foe to be feared most by any man." Narrow eyes regarded

Pug. "He was you."

Pug and Laurie sat on the steps of the temple, with six Tsurani guards lounging around. The guards

had been civil—barely—for the entire journey. The travel had been tiring, if not difficult. With no horses,

nor anything to substitute for them, every Tsurani not riding in a needra cart moved by power of shanks'

mare, their own or others. Nobles were carried up and down the wide boulevards on litters borne on the

backs of puffing, sweating slaves.

Pug and Laurie had been given the short, plain grey robes of slaves. Their loincloths, adequate in the

swamps, were deemed unsightly for travel among Tsurani citizens. Pug deduced that the Tsurani put store

upon modesty—if not so much as in the Kingdom.

They had come up the road along the coast of the great body of water called Battle Bay. Pug had

thought that if it was a bay, it was larger than anything so named in Midkemia, for even from the high cliffs

overlooking it the other side could not be seen. After several-days' travel they had entered cultivated

pastureland, and soon after could see the opposite shore closing in rapidly. Another few days on the

road, and they had come to the dty of Jamar.

Pug and Laurie watched the passing traffic, while Hokanu made an offering at the temple. The Tsurani

seemed mad for colors. Here even the lowliest worker was likely to be dressed in a brightly colored

short robe. Those with wealth could be seen in more flamboyant dress, covered with intricately executed

designs. Only slaves lacked colorful dress.

Everywhere around the city, people thronged: farmers, traders, caravans, and travelers. Lines of

needras plodded by, pulling wagons filled with produce and goods. The sheer numbers of people

overwhelmed Pug and Laurie, for the Tsurani seemed like ants scurrying about, even in the unusual heat,

as if the commerce of the Empire could not wait upon the comfort of its citizens. Many who passed

stopped to stare at the Midkemians, whom they regarded as giant barbarians. Their own height averaged

about five feet six inches, and even Pug was considered tall, having come to his full growth at five feet

eight. For their part, the Midkemians had come to refer to the Tsurani as runts.

Pug and Laurie looked about. They waited in the center of the city, where the great temples were.

Ten pyramids, differing in size, but all richly appointed, sat amid a series of parks. From where they

were, the young men could see three of the parks. Each was terraced, with miniature watercourses

winding through, complete with tiny waterfalls. Dwarf trees, as well as large shade trees, dotted the

grass-covered grounds of the parks. Strolling musidans played flutes and strange stringed instruments,

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Raymond E. Feist - Riftwar Saga 1b - Magician Master

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: