Free Magician by Raymond Feist Page A

without humor “I think the boy has had
enough,” he said quietly, eyes glaring “Don’t you
agree?” His cold tone made it clear he wasn’t asking for
an opinion. Blood still ran down Rulf’s face from Pug’s
initial blow as he choked out a sound the Prince took to mean
agreement. Arutha let go of Rulf’s collar, and the stable-boy
fell backward, to the laughter of the onlookers. The Prince reached
down and helped Pug to his feet.
    Holding the wobbly boy steady, Arutha
said, “I admire your courage, youngster, but we can’t
have the wits beaten out of the Duchy’s finest young magician,
can we?” His tone was only slightly mocking, and Pug was too
numb to do more than stand and stare at the younger son of the Duke.
The Prince gave him a slight smile and handed him over to Tomas, who
had come up next to Pug, a wet cloth in hand.
    Pug came out of his fog as Tomas
scrubbed his face with the cloth, and felt even worse when he saw the
Princess and Roland standing only a few feet away as Prince Arutha
returned to their side. To take a beating before the girls of the
keep was bad enough, to be punished by a lout like Rulf in front of
the Princess was a catastrophe.
    Emitting a groan that had little to do
with his physical state, Pug tried to look as much like someone else
as he could Tomas grabbed him roughly. “Try not to squirm
around so much. You’re not all that bad off. Most of this blood
is Rulf’s anyway. By tomorrow his nose will look like an angry
red cabbage.”
    “So will my head.”
    “Nothing so bad. A black eye,
perhaps two, with a swollen cheek thrown in to the bargain On the
whole, you did rather well, but next time you want to tangle with
Rulf, wait until you’ve put on a little more size, will you?”
Pug watched as the Prince led his sister away from the site of battle
Roland gave him a wide grin, and Pug wished himself dead.

    Pug and Tomas walked out of the
kitchen, dinner plates in hand. It was a warm night, and they
preferred the cooling ocean breeze to the heat of the scullery. They
sat on the porch, and Pug moved his jaw from side to side, feeling it
pop in and out. He experimented with a bite of lamb and put his plate
to one side.
    Tomas watched him. “Can’t
eat?”
    Pug nodded “Jaw hurts too much.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and chin on his
fists. “I should have kept my temper. Then I would have done
better.”
    Tomas spoke from around a mouthful of
food. “Master Fannon says a soldier must keep a cool head at
all times or he’ll lose it.”
    Pug sighed. “Kulgan said
something like that I have some drills I can do that make me relax. I
should have used them.”
    Tomas gulped a heroic portion of his
meal “Practicing in your room is one thing Putting that sort of
business into use while someone is insulting you to your face is
quite another. I would have done the same thing, I suppose.”
    “But you would have won.”
    “Probably. Which is why Rulf
would never have come at me.” His manner showed he wasn’t
being boastful, merely stating things as they were. “Still, you
did all right. Old cabbage nose will think twice before picking on
you again, I’m sure, and that’s what the whole thing is
about, anyway.”
    Pug said, “What do you mean?”
    Tomas put down his plate and belched.
With a satisfied look at the sound of it, he said, “With
bullies it’s always the same: whether or not you can best them
doesn’t matter. What is important is whether or not you’ll
stand up to them Rulf may be big, but he’s a coward under all
the bluster. He’ll turn his attention to the younger boys now
and push them around a bit I don’t think he’ll want any
part of you again. He doesn’t like the price.” Tomas gave
Pug a broad and warm smile “That first punch you gave him was a
beaut. Right square on the beak.”
    Pug felt a little better. Tomas eyed
Pug’s untouched dinner “You going to eat that?”
    Pug looked at his plate. It was