"05.The King's Buccaneer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

nine years."

Ghuda said, "I wish I could tell you, Sire. I've been traveling with this lunatic for over a month, and the best I can get from him is that we need to come here and see you, then leave on another journey." Nakor was off in his own world again, seemingly entranced by the glitter of the chandeliers and the dancing lights reflecting off the large glass window behind the Prince's chair. Ghuda endured another moment of painful silence, and said, "I'm sorry, Highness. We never should have

bothered you."

Arutha could see the old fighter's obvious discomfort. "No, it's I who am sorry." Noticing the ragged, dirty attire, he added, "Please. You must rest. I'll have rooms made ready, and you may bathe and get a good night's sleep. I'll have fresh clothing provided. Then, in the morning, maybe I can aid you hi whatever mission you find yourself upon."

Ghuda gave an awkward salute, not quite sure of the response; then Arutha said, "Have you eaten?" Ghuda glanced at the heavily laden table and Arutha said, "Sit down, over there." He motioned for diem to take the chairs next to Knight-Marshal William.

Nakor snapped out of his reverie at the mention of food and unceremoniously hurried to the indicated chair. He waited until the servants had his place set with food and wine, and fell to like a man starved.

Ghuda attempted to display as many manners as possible, but it was clear he was uncomfortable in the presence of royalty. Amos said something in a strange language, and the Isalani laughed. In the King's Tongue he said, "Your accent is terrible. But the joke is funny."

Amos laughed in turn. He said to the others, "I thought I spoke the language of Isalan pretty well." He shrugged. "It's been near thirty years since I was last in Shing Lai; I guess I've lost the knack," and turned his attention back to the Princess of Krondor's mother.

Arutha sat down. He became lost in his own thoughts. Something about the appearance of these two, the old tired fighter and the comic character his sons had told him of, brought him a feeling of discomfort, as if the room were sud-

THS KING 's BUCCANEE K 21

denly colder. A premonition? He tried to shrug it off, but could not. He motioned for the servants to remove his plate, for he had lost his appetite.

AFTER DINNER, ARUTHA walked along the balcony that overlooked the harbor. Behind closed doors, servants bustled readying the rooms of the royal family's apartments. Amos Trask left the building and came to where Arutha stood staring out at the lights near the harbor.

"You asked to see me, Arutha?"

Arutha turned and said, "Yes. I need your advice."

"Ask."

"What's wrong with Nicholas?"

Amos's expression showed he didn't understand the question. "I don't take your meaning."

"He's not like other boys his age."

"The foot?"

"I don't think so. There's something in him . . ."

"That's cautious," finished Amos.

"Yes. It's why I'm disinclined to really punish him and Harry for their prank today. It's one of the few times I've ever seen or heard of Nicholas taking a risk."

Amos sighed as he leaned upon the low wall. "I haven't given this a lot of thought, Arutha. Nicky's a good enough lad —not full of pranks and troublemalting as his brothers were."

"Borric and Erland were such a pair of rogues that I welcomed Nicholas's reserve. But now it's become indecision and overcautiousness. And that is dangerous in a ruler."

Amos said, "You and I have been through a lot, Arutha. I've known you—what, twenty-five years? You worry the most about those you love. Nicky's a good lad, and he'll be a good man."