Exile’s Return. Raymond E. Feist

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third man was broad-shouldered, thick-necked, and covered with hair everywhere, except for his balding pate. He laughed; a short bark like a dog’s. ‘It was a good move, I’ll grant.’

      Kaspar raised an eyebrow and said, ‘You’re a Kinnockman, or my ears have never heard that accent.’

      The blond man said, ‘We’re all from the Kingdom.’

      ‘I’m not,’ said Kaspar. ‘But I’ve been there.’

      The two men looked enquiringly at Flynn, who said, ‘He’s from Olasko.’

      ‘You’re even farther from home than we are!’ observed the blond man.

      ‘I’m McGoin, and he’s Kenner,’ said the burly man.

      ‘I’m Kaspar.’

      ‘So, we’re four kindred spirits; men of the north.’ Kenner nodded sagely.

      ‘How did you get here?’ asked Kaspar.

      ‘You first,’ urged Flynn.

      Kaspar thought it best to hide his identity. These men might think him a liar, or they might seek to use such knowledge to their benefit and his disadvantage in the future. Mostly, he decided that his former rank hardly mattered now; he was on the wrong side of the world and had been stripped of his title and lands. He might tell them more, later, after he had heard their tale.

      ‘Nothing very fancy, really. I got on the wrong side of a magician who has enough power to relocate the people who annoy him. One minute I’m in Opardum, the next I’m up near Heslagnam with half a dozen Bentu riding towards me.’

      ‘You got away from Bentu slavers?’ asked McGoin.

      ‘No,’ said Kaspar. ‘First they caught me; then I escaped.’

      Flynn laughed. ‘Either you’ve a touch of a magic yourself, or you’re enough of a liar to be a Kinnockman.’

      ‘I haven’t that honour,’ said Kaspar.

      ‘Magicians,’ observed Kenner. ‘They’re a curse, no doubt.’

      ‘Well, that one certainly was,’ said Kaspar. ‘Still, he could have landed me halfway across the ocean and let me drown.’

      ‘True,’ said Flynn.

      ‘Now, your story.’

      ‘We’re traders out of Port Vykor,’ began Flynn.

      Instantly Kaspar knew Flynn was lying. It was far more likely that they were pirates out of the Sunset Isles.

      ‘We were a consortium put together by a trader out of Krondor, name of Milton Prevence. When we reached the City of the Serpent River we found a clan war underway. We couldn’t even come into port, because two clans were battling over who controlled the harbour.

      ‘So, we turned around and looked for a landing.’ He pointed to his companions. ‘There were thirty of us when we started.’

      Kaspar nodded. ‘A few merchants and how many guards?’

      Flynn shook his head. ‘None. We are traders, but all of us have learned to take care of ourselves. McGoin started off as a felter’s apprentice, and got into the wool trade. From there it was fine clothing, and the silks you can buy down here are the best he’s seen, even better than from Kesh.

      ‘Kenner’s specialty is spices, the rarer the better. Me, I specialize in gems.’

      Kaspar nodded. ‘All highly transportable and not too bulky, save for the silk.’

      ‘But it’s light,’ said McGoin. ‘You can pack the hold of a ship and she’ll barely lower a yard on the waterline.’

      ‘So what happened?’

      Kenner took over the narrative from Flynn. ‘We had two choices. We could have turned west and sailed on to the City of Maharta to trade up the Vedra River; lots of commerce, lots of exotic goods, but also, lots of crafty traders and less advantageous deals.’

      ‘What was the other choice?’ Kaspar asked.

      ‘There’s a place where the Serpent River loops to the east, almost reaching the coast. It’s less than a week’s walk from the beach to the river, so we didn’t bring horses – we’d just buy them here if we needed to ride. At the river there’s a town called Shingazi’s Landing. Used to be a small trading-post, but now it’s a good place to catch a ride upriver.’

      McGoin added, ‘So, that’s what we did; we hired a boat and set upriver, figuring there’d be goods up there no Islesman had ever seen before.’

      Flynn laughed. ‘Talk about gods cursed arrogance. We’re not faint-hearted men, Kaspar, but there were thirty of us when we started and all of us knew how to take care of ourselves.

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