Krondor the Assassins (13 page)

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one else could. That’s why you were always able to take those extra little jobs without the Nightmaster’s writ.’’

James returned the smile. ‘‘Me, work without permission from the Nightmaster?’’ he said with mock gravity. ‘‘What, and risk you and your lads finding me and roughing me up? I would never do that.’’

‘‘Well, it’s good to see you’ve kept your humor,’’ said Henry, as he looked from Josh to Walter. Then he looked at James.

‘‘What are we to do?’’

‘‘Stay here. I’ll try to be back before the morning with some food and drink for you.’’

‘‘Why would you do that?’’ asked Josh.

‘‘Because you asked,’’ answered James. ‘‘And, as of now, you’re working for me.’’

‘‘But our oath to the Mockers—’’ began Josh.

‘‘—is only valid if there are Mockers,’’ finished James. He started walking to the wall farthest from the sewer entrance.

‘‘If, by some miracle of fate, the Upright Man returns, you’ll not be bound by me. I know what it is to break oath with him.

Few survive. But if he doesn’t turn up, well, I’ve got something you can do to earn your keep and stay on the good side of the law.’’

‘‘Good side of the law?’’ asked Josh.

‘‘Fancy that,’’ remarked Henry.

James pointed his finger at each man in turn. ‘‘You need all the friends you can get, and right now I may be the only one you have.’’

Walter nodded once. ‘‘You’ve got the right of that, Jimmy.’’

‘‘It’s Squire James, from now on.’’

‘‘Yes, squire. I see,’’ answered Walter.

James felt along the wall until he found what he was looking 108

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for. He tripped a latch and a door, fashioned to look like a random cluster of stones in the wall, creaked open.

‘‘I didn’t know that was there!’’ said Walter.

‘‘Few do,’’ James replied. As he was about to enter, he added,

‘‘Look, if I’m not back in a couple of days, assume the worst and you’re on your own. In that case, I suggest you find the sheriff and tell him what you know. Means is a tough boot, but he’s fair.’’

‘‘Don’t know about the fair part, but I’ll grant you tough,’’

said Walter. ‘‘We’ll think about that if we have to.’’

James nodded, and went through the door. He pulled it closed behind him and felt along in the utter darkness. He knew it was only one hundred steps up an inclined passage to a trap that had been laid into the floor of what had once been a root cellar in the house next to the burned-out mill. Fortunately for James, that part of the house hadn’t been paved over, and was shielded from curious eyes by heavy weeds and brush.

Once he was above ground, he moved through the darkness, avoiding the larger thoroughfares as he made his way toward the palace district. He reached the city gate just north of the palace itself, and hurried through, passing a surprised-looking guard who recognized him and who appeared about to ask a question, though James didn’t linger to hear it.

James reached the small square, which served to separate the palace proper from the city, and hurried toward the gate.

The two guardsmen on duty seemed about to order him to halt when they recognized him. One said, ‘‘Squire James? Is there trouble?’’

‘‘Always,’’ answered James, signaling for the gate to be opened. One of the soldiers hurried to accommodate him, and James swept past him without another comment.

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James reached the top of the steps to the palace and waved over the first page he spied. ‘‘Carry word to the Prince that I have returned and will join him as soon as I can make myself presentable.’’

The page wrinkled his nose at the sewer aroma that trailed James like a palpable miasma, then remembered his court training. ‘‘Squire!’’ he acknowledged, and hurried off as quickly as he could.

James almost ran to his room, stripping off his clothing.

He’d take a complete bath later, but for the time being the best he could manage was a quick wash with a cloth dipped in the water basin.

Ten minutes later, James emerged from his quarters, to find the same page had return from the Prince. ‘‘Squire!’’ said the young boy. ‘‘His Highness says he will await you in his offices.’’

James hurried to Arutha’s offices, knocked, and entered when bidden. Inside, James found a very uncomfortable-looking young man in a city constable’s uniform standing near the door, while the Prince sat behind his desk.

‘‘This young fellow was looking for you,’’ said Arutha, indicating the constable with a nod of his head. ‘‘When no one could find you, Gardan sent him to me. The constable said you were due to meet him on some matter the sheriff and you deemed important. He was somewhat distressed you were not where you agreed to be.’’

James smiled and said, ‘‘As well he might, for I was being held against my will.’’

Arutha’s face remained impassive but there was a slight hint of amusement in his voice as he said, ‘‘It appears you saved me the difficulty of ordering out the guard to rescue you.’’

‘‘My captors and I came to an agreement.’’

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Arutha indicated he should sit. Before he did, James looked at the young man and said, ‘‘You’re Jonathan Means?’’

‘‘Yes, squire,’’ answered the young constable. He was perhaps the same age as William, yet there was already evident about him a toughness that James knew well from years of dodging city constables. In the presence of the Prince he might appear to be an awkward boy, but in a brawl Jonathan Means could hold his own, James was certain.

Arutha said, ‘‘I’ll listen to your tale of escape later. What I need to know is, what is going on in my city?’’

James said, ‘‘Nothing good. As Jonathan and the other constables can no doubt testify, there’s been a rash of killings lately that appear to make no sense. As you observed, these killings seem random, but I think the pattern is there. We’re just not seeing it.’’

‘‘You have some sense of things, though, right?’’ asked Arutha.

James nodded. ‘‘The Crawler. It appears he has made another bid to dislodge the Mockers, and from what I saw and heard, he may have accomplished that goal.’’

Arutha mused aloud. ‘‘Does it matter if one band of thugs and pickpockets supplants another? People will still be bullied and robbed.’’

‘‘Setting aside my familiarity with the Mockers and friendship for many of them, still, there is a difference. The Mockers are thieves. They come in a variety of forms, from those who will deftly cut your purse from your belt without disturbing your ruminations on which silk scarf to buy in the market, to those who will simply bang you over the head as you stagger home after too much ale. They number beggars, street boys, whores, and those who, like myself once, are adept at entering 111

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homes and stealing whatever has value without awakening the occupants. But they’re not killers.’’

‘‘I’ve heard otherwise,’’ said Arutha.

‘‘Oh, from time to time a basher will hit someone too hard, or someone will awake and find a thief in the home. A struggle will ensue and someone gets stuck with a dagger, but the intent is never to kill. The Upright Man was very specific in that; murder brings down far more attention than he wanted for the Mockers.’’

Arutha considered his one long-ago contact with the man he suspected was the Upright Man. His instinct told him James was right. ‘‘What about this Crawler and his men?’’

James considered his words a moment, then said to Jonathan, ‘‘Did the sheriff tell you why I asked you to the palace?’’

‘‘No, he just said you’d requested a constable come to the palace and I was the one.’’

‘‘I asked him for someone who had a knack for getting information out of folks without having to hold their feet to the fire.’’

For the first time since entering the office, the young man ventured a slight smile. ‘‘I’ve a snitch or two who trust me.’’

James regarded the young man for a long moment, then came to a decision. ‘‘I’m going to need help, Highness. I’ve got Jonathan’s father and Captain Guruth sorted out for a while on who is in charge of which area of the city.’’

‘‘Good,’’ said Arutha.

James went on to describe what he had seen as he had explored the city, and went into some detail about the two men who had followed him before Walter had snared him, and then into Walter’s description of the men who had raided Mother’s. ‘‘So if I’m going to do Your Highness any good out 112

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there, I’m going to need more men like Jonathan and Walter and his mates. I’m going to need my own company of men.’’

‘‘A company?’’ Arutha’s expression darkened slightly. ‘‘Squires hardly ever command companies, James.’’

James grinned. ‘‘Well, if you remember, it was just a few weeks back I was commanding the entire garrison at North Warden.’’

Arutha returned James’s grin with his own half-smile. ‘‘Well, I can’t argue with that.’’

‘‘Perhaps company is the wrong word. That would be too many men, in any event, but I do need men like Jonathan here, men who won’t be out of place when they’re seen here and there, but who are working for me.’’

‘‘Is that all right?’’ Jonathan asked of the Prince. ‘‘Your Highness?’’ he added quickly.

Arutha said, ‘‘It’s all right, if I say it is. Your father doesn’t need to know the specifics of any work you do for the Crown, just that occasionally you’ll be called away from your usual duties to help out on some security issues.’’

James said, ‘‘I think maybe a dozen men or so, perhaps even a woman or two if they’re the right kind.’’

‘‘What kind is that?’’ asked Arutha.

‘‘Smart, tough, able to take care of themselves, and loyal.’’

Arutha said, ‘‘Loyal to you?’’

James was silent for a long time before he answered. ‘‘Some of the people I’m going to need don’t put much stock in loyalty to the Crown, Highness. Personal loyalty and personal oaths are more tangible to them. There are men who would swear to serve me, whom I could trust with my life, but whom I wouldn’t trust to stand fast if they were only bound by an oath to the nation. It may not be ideal, but that’s the way it is.’’

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Arutha nodded. ‘‘You know I’ve been toying with the idea of an intelligence service to match wits with the Keshians. More than once the king and I have discussed the difficulties of relying on paid informants and rumor-mongers. No matter what their ambassador says before our court, Kesh is always casting her eyes northward, dreaming of retaking the ancient province of Bosania as well as the Vale of Dreams.’’

James smiled. ‘‘And whatever else they can get their hands on.’’

Arutha nodded. ‘‘What concerns me most, at this moment, is the report of the destruction of the Mockers, for if we link that to your confrontation with the Crawler’s agents in Silden, and the apparent link between the Crawler and the Nighthawks at Kenting Rush, I can only come to one conclusion.’’

‘‘What’s that?’’

‘‘There’s something very big underway. And we’ve only glimpsed small portions of that something.’’

James nodded. ‘‘I am afraid it might be something along those lines. I had thought we’d finished at last with the Nighthawks after killing their leader at Cavell Keep.’’

‘‘I suspect we’ll find he was but one of many leaders, James,’’

said Arutha absently. ‘‘In all the years since we first faced the Nighthawks, one thing has nagged at me and until this moment I didn’t realize what it was.’’

‘‘What is it?’’ asked James, exchanging a glance with Jonathan.

Arutha said, ‘‘There are too many assassins.’’

James didn’t follow. His brow furrowed and he cocked his head slightly. ‘‘Too many?’’

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paced when he spoke and James wouldn’t presume to be informal with Jonathan in the room.

‘‘Assassins are employed for a variety of purposes,’’ began Arutha. ‘‘The first is extortion: they send a note demanding a fee for not killing you and if you fail to comply, they murder you. The second is that they are employed to remove someone as an act of revenge, profit, or for political advantage.’’

‘‘You’ve forgotten a third reason,’’ said James.

Arutha waved his hand in dismissal. ‘‘No I haven’t. I’m ruling out religious fanaticism because the Temple of Lims-Kragma disavowed themselves from any contact with these Nighthawks years ago, and the Temple of Guis-Wa have their own particular brand of murders, and these murders have none of the ear-marks of a ritual Blood Hunt.’’

James flushed slightly. Arutha was rarely not completely prepared in any discourse. ‘‘I stand corrected.’’

Arutha said, ‘‘If profit were the motive, then we’d have been alerted to at least one or two threats by concerned citizens. So we’ll rule that out. That leaves murder for gain.’’

‘‘But whose gain?’’

‘‘Exactly. Why kill random citizens and attempt to obliterate the Mockers?’’

James paused because he realized the question wasn’t rhetorical. Arutha wanted his opinion. After a moment, he said, ‘‘I have no theory on the random citizens who, as we already suspect, are probably not as random as they appear. As to the latter, the only reason to obliterate the Mockers is either to displace them or keep them from observing something.’’

Arutha pointed at James. ‘‘Exactly. Which is more likely?’’

James sighed with fatigue. ‘‘Displacing them, I guess. If secrecy were the goal, you’d hardly go about it by murdering 115

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dozens of thieves, whores, urchins, and thugs. You’d just go somewhere very quiet and see that it stays quiet. There are dozens of places in the woods and mountains nearby you could use as a base, within a few days’ ride of the city where no one would notice even a large company of men. No, for them to want the Mockers out of the sewers, they want to take over control of crime in the city.’’

‘‘I agree,’’ said Arutha. ‘‘Now, how do you reconcile this business with what we’ve seen of the Nighthawks so far?’’