Harry’s eyebrows went up. ‘Some cripple. I’ve got more bruises and cuts from sword practice with you than everyone else combined, and I don’t think I’ve touched you more than twice in a year.’
Nicholas’s crooked smile made him look like his father as he said, ‘You’ve scored a point or two.’
Harry shrugged. ‘See. I’m not bad, but you’re exceptional. How could you be considered a cripple?’
‘Do you have the Festival of Presentation in Ludland?’
Harry said, ‘No, it’s only for the royal family, right?’
Nicholas shook his head. ‘No. It used to be that every noble child was presented to the people thirty days after birth, so that all could see the child was born without flaw.
‘It fell out of practice in the Eastern Realm a long time ago, but it was practiced widely in the West. My brothers were presented, as was my sister – all the children of the royal family, until me.’
Harry nodded. ‘All right, so your father didn’t wish to show you off to the people. What about it?’
Nicholas shrugged. ‘It’s not what you are, sometimes; it’s how people treat you. I’ve always been treated as if there was something wrong with me. It makes it hard.’
‘And you think things will be different in Crydee?’ said Harry as they left the precinct of the stadium and reached the gate to the palace.
Two guards saluted the Prince as he passed, and Nicholas said, ‘I don’t know my uncle Martin well, but I like him. I think I may have a different life in Crydee.’
Harry sighed as they entered the palace. ‘I hope it’s not too different,’ he observed as a particularly pretty maid hurried past. He watched her until she vanished through a side door. ‘There are so many possibilities here, Nicky.’
Nicholas shook his head in resignation.
The rowers pulled and the longboat backed away, as heavy lines ran out to the stern of the ship. Upon the docks Arutha, Anita, and a host of court functionaries stood, bidding Prince Nicholas good-bye. Anita had a glimmer in her eyes, yet she held back her tears. Nicholas was her baby, but she had seen three other children leave home before, and that kept her in balance. Still, she kept a tight hold on her husband’s arm. Something in his manner made her uneasy.
Nicholas and Harry stood near the bow, waving to those upon the docks. Amos stood behind them, his eyes fixed upon his beloved Alicia. Nicholas looked from his grandmother to Amos and said, ‘Well, should I begin to call you “Grandfather”?’
Amos gave Nicholas a baleful look. ‘You do and you’ll swim to Crydee. And when we clear the harbor, you’ll call me “Captain”. As I told your father over twenty years ago, Prince or not, upon a ship none is master save the captain. Here I’m high priest and king, and don’t you forget it.’
Nicholas grinned at Harry, not quite ready to believe that Amos could turn into some sort of raging tyrant once they were at sea.
The harbor crew continued to tow the large ship clear of the royal quay, then cast off. Amos shot a glance at the harbor pilot and shouted, ‘Take the wheel, master pilot!’ To the crew he shouted, ‘Set all topsails! Make ready mainsails and topgallants!’
When the first three sails were deployed, the ship seemed to come to life. Nicholas and Harry felt the movement beneath their feet. The ship heeled slightly to the right as the pilot brought it about. Amos left the boys to their own devices and made his way to the stern.
Slowly the ship moved through the harbor, majestically passing dozens of lesser craft. Nicholas watched every detail as the crew sprang to answer the pilot’s commands. Two smaller coastal cutters were entering the harbor mouth as they approached. Seeing the ensign of the royal house of Krondor atop the mainmast, they dipped their own Kingdom flag in salute. Nicholas waved to them.
Harry said, ‘Not very dignified, Your Highness.’
Nicholas threw an elbow into Harry’s ribs, laughing. ‘Who cares?’
The ship turned into the wind near the harbor mouth, bringing it to a virtual halt. A small rowboat came alongside and the pilot and his assistant hurried down into it, turning command of the ship over to Amos.
Once the pilot’s boat was clear, Amos turned to his first mate, a man named Rhodes, and shouted, ‘Trim topsails. Set mainsails and topgallants!’
Nicholas involuntarily gripped the rail, for the ship seemed to leap forward as the wind filled the sails. In the brisk morning breeze the ship sped through the water. The sun began to burn through the early morning haze and the sky turned a vivid blue. Above, sea gulls flew after the ship, waiting for the day’s garbage to be tossed over the side.
Nicholas pointed down at the bow wake, and Harry looked over to see dolphins racing the ship. Both boys laughed at the sight.
Amos watched the landmarks of the harbor fall away behind, then he consulted the position of the sun above the harbor. Turning to the first mate, he said, ‘Due west, Mr Rhodes. We make for Sorcerer’s Isle.’
For six days they tacked against the prevailing westerly winds, until the lookout called, ‘Land ho!’
‘Where away?’ shouted Amos.
‘Two points off the starboard bow, Captain! An island!’
Amos nodded. ‘Look for the headlands, Mr Rhodes. There’s a cove to the southwest that we can lie in. Pass word that we’ll only be laying over for a day or so. No one is to leave the ship without permission.’
Rhodes, a laconic man, said, ‘No one’s going to wish to set foot on Sorcerer’s Isle without a direct order, Captain.’
Amos nodded. He knew who lived there now, but old superstitions died hard. For years the abode of Macros the Black, the island was reputed to be the home of demons and other dark spirits. Pug, a magician related to Arutha by adoption whom Amos had met on a number of occasions, had come to live on this island almost nine years before, and for his own reasons made few welcome there. Without thought, Amos said, ‘Pass the word to be alert.’
Looking around, Amos realized that there was no need. Every man on the ship had his eyes fixed upon the spot of land that was growing larger with every passing minute. Amos felt a little stirring of anticipation, for while he knew Pug had requested no visitors, he doubted he would attack a ship flying the Krondorian royal ensign.
Nakor and Ghuda had come up on deck, and the little man rushed to the bow, where Nicholas and Harry were already stationed. Nicholas grinned at the strange little man. He had taken a liking to Nakor, who had proved an entertaining companion on an otherwise dull voyage.
‘Now you’ll see some things,’ said Nakor.
Ghuda said, ‘Look, a castle.’
Upon a promontory, the outlines of a castle could be seen as they drew closer. As they neared, they began to discern details. It was built of black stones, and set upon a rocky finger of land that was separated from the rest of the island by a narrow fissure through which the surf pounded. Across the gap a drawbridge extended, but even with it down, there was little about the place that looked hospitable. A single window, high up in a tower, flashed an ominous blue light.
The ship swung to the south of the rocks that lined the cliff base below the castle, and soon they approached a small inlet. The boys, Ghuda, and Nakor heard Amos call out, ‘Reef all sails! Drop anchor.’
Within minutes the ship had stopped, and Amos came forward. ‘Well, who’s going ashore besides these two?’ he asked, indicating Nakor and Ghuda.
Nicholas said, ‘I’m not sure what you’re asking, Amos – er, Captain.’
Amos seemed to squint with one eye at the boy as he said, ‘Well, then it seems your father was even less forthcoming