Krondor the Assassins (17 page)

‘‘Good trophy animal.’’

‘‘And once in a great while we get leopards.’’

‘‘Now there’s worthy game,’’ said the duke. ‘‘If one’s in a tree above you, that’s where he wants to be.’’

‘‘Perhaps by morning I’ll have new intelligence.’’

The balance of the meal went by slowly, as the duke and his son spoke of past hunts, reliving each triumph. Paulina spent her time staring absently into the distance or attempting to flirt with William, who responded politely to her banter. Prince Vladic seemed content to stay silently lost in his own thoughts.

When the dishes had been removed by the servants, William excused himself from the duke’s presence, citing his need to oversee the disposition of the camp. The duke nodded and waved him away.

William found Sergeant Matthews and asked, ‘‘How stand things?’’

‘‘Quiet, sir,’’ answered the sergeant.

‘‘I’m turning in. Wake me for the last watch.’’

‘‘You’re taking a watch, sir?’’ asked Matthews in a neutral voice.

William knew that many officers left the management of the watches to their sergeants. ‘‘I prefer my sergeants get a halfway decent night’s sleep on the march,’’ he answered, as if 144

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this wasn’t his first command. ‘‘Turn in after the second watch and have the senior guardsman wake me.’’

‘‘Sir,’’ said Matthews as William moved toward the spot set aside for his groundcloth and covers. He knew the sergeant was just as likely to ignore the command and continue to ensure each watch-change went without a hitch. Still, as with sending out fruit and ale for the trail-weary soldiers, the gesture would be appreciated.

William turned in, and for once was glad for his training under McWirth, for he had slept enough upon the ground atop a thin quilted mat, with a heavy woolen blanket over him, that once he lay down he was quickly asleep.

William’s eyes opened and he was awake without hesitation and halfway standing before he realized what had wakened him.

It was no sound, no alarm nor shout, but rather a feeling. Then he knew what it was. The horses were disturbed to the point at which his mind was hearing them as if they were shouting.

In another moment they would be whinnying. He hurried to where the horses where staked out. They were all standing quietly, heads erect, ears twitching, nostrils flared as they tested the air.

William never liked talking with horses. Their minds were odd, divided.

What is it?
William said with his mind to the nearest horse.

Hunter!
came the answer, with an image of something moving silently through the forest nearby.
Smell hunter!

William glanced upwind in the direction from which a scent would come.
Man?
he asked.

The response was confusing. Some of the horses seemed to agree while others sent impressions of a cat-like creature.

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‘‘Something wrong, sir?’’ asked Matthews at William’s shoulder.

‘‘I don’t know,’’ he answered quietly. ‘‘Something’s got the horses spooked.’’

‘‘Maybe a wolfpack hunting?’’

Rather than share his unusual ability with the sergeant, William just nodded. ‘‘Maybe, but there’s something close enough that the horses are—’’

Before he could finish the thought, the horses started whinnying and trying to pull up the stakes.

Matthews cried out, ‘‘Alarm! ’Ware the camp!’’

William had his sword out as something big and dark seemed to fly by, close to the ground, but it was past him before he realized it was not a bird of any sort, but a swift four-legged creature. It bounded into darkness next to trees on the edge of the camp, then appeared again in silhouette against the campfire for a brief instant, before vanishing into the night.

‘‘Damn me!’’ said Matthews. ‘‘It’s a black leopard!’’

Men were scrambling for weapons and the Duke of Olasko and his son came from their tents, weapons at the ready. By the time William reached them, word of the big cat had already reached the duke.

‘‘That’s a bold kitty, what?’’ said the duke with a grin. ‘‘Nice of him to let us know he’s in the woods.’’ He glanced around and asked, ‘‘What of the clock?’’

William glanced at the sergeant, who answered, ‘‘Three hours to sunrise, Your Grace.’’

‘‘Good,’’ said the duke. ‘‘Let’s eat and then at dawn let’s track that big bastard.’’

William said, ‘‘Yes, Your Grace.’’

The duke returned to his tent and William instructed the 146

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sergeant to order the morning meal prepared early. He had no doubt that by the time the sun crested the eastern peaks they would be at least an hour along the trail of that cat.

As the camp turned to the day’s preparation, William watched the edge of the woods, trying to peer into the gloom.

As the bustle in the camp grew in volume, he couldn’t help the feeling that, somewhere nearby, that leopard watched.

The duke returned a few minutes later, rubbing his hands in anticipation. ‘‘Let’s eat, to strengthen us for the day to come, lieutenant.’’

‘‘Yes, Your Grace,’’ said William, tearing his eyes away from the murky woods.

As they walked toward the duke’s tent, he said, ‘‘Damned accommodating of that beast to let us know he’s nearby, what?

You’d soon as think he was daring us to come after him.’’

William said nothing, but his thoughts matched the duke’s, and he was nowhere near as enthralled by the notion.

Mist rolled through the trees as the duke, his nephew, son and daughter moved silently through the woods. They were followed at a discreet distance by William and his squad of six soldiers. Bringing up the rear were bearers and servants. William was impressed by the Olaskan nobility; their hunting skills were very evident. They moved with such stealth that in comparison the experienced soldiers sounded noisy and untrained to William’s ear.

A tracker from the garrison of Pathfinders at Krondor led the way, indicating leopard signs. William used his mental gifts to search out any hint of the cat’s whereabouts, but he kept coming up blank. He sensed the small animals nearby, the red squirrels and chipmunks hiding out of sight, even caught an 147

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impression or two of the curious rodents’ thoughts.
Big hunters!

they seemed to say.
Danger!

The quiet of the woods was unnerving. Some animal sounds would usually be heard in the distance, but those sounds were absent. The only noise was an occasional plop as moisture gathered on the branches above and fell to the ground below, or the faint movement of the other men nearby.

With each step, William’s apprehension grew. Another twenty yards into the woods and he whispered to the men behind, ‘‘I’m moving up with the duke. Close up behind the servants.’’

‘‘Sir,’’ whispered the soldier.

William picked up the pace and quickly overtook the servants. He noticed the servants who carried the duke’s ferocious arsenal of hunting weapons and his other equipment looked uneasy. He closed up behind the Princess, who walked a few paces behind her brother. In the gloom ahead, William could see the duke as a faint form in the haze, Prince Vladic half a dozen paces behind, Kazamir an equal interval after him. William saw that the gloom was deepening, and his internal alarm sounded. The Pathfinder at the side of the duke was looking around, as if he could no longer see the animal’s spoor.

Just as the duke held up his arm for a halt, William was moving forward, pulling out his sword. The duke had his bow at the ready, and was peering ahead into the gloom, as if trying to see into it by will alone. Suddenly a movement high above the duke’s head alerted William and he shouted, ‘‘It’s a trap!

Above you.’’

The duke acted without hesitation, dodging to one side as a large black shape pounced from above, launching itself from a heavy branch a few feet above the duke’s head. Prince Vladic 148

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let fly with one arrow, which split the space occupied an instant before by the big cat. The leopard hit the ground and spun, lashing out with one huge paw, raking the duke across the shoulder as he fell away.

The cat gathered itself to spring as William reached Kazamir’s side. The duke’s son let fly with an arrow which barely missed his cousin’s back as it sped past Vladic and struck at the cat’s feet.

William leapt to defend the duke as the leopard launched itself. His blade cut the air, and he felt it rake the cat’s side as it sprang. The animal screamed, and rather than attack the duke it bounded into the woods, as more arrows flew at it.

William bent over the duke, who pushed away a helping hand. ‘‘After it!’’ he shouted.

‘‘Your Grace, no!’’

The duke yelled, ‘‘Get out of the way, boy!’’ and shoved William aside.

William grabbed the duke’s arm, swinging him around in a half circle. The duke’s eyes widened and he said, ‘‘You dare!’’

‘‘Sir, you’re wounded,’’ shouted William. ‘‘That creature will smell you coming a mile away.’’

‘‘I’ve been hunting cats since before your birth, boy! Let go of my arm!’’

But William held tight as the duke’s son, daughter and nephew reached them, with the servants and soldiers closing quickly. ‘‘Your Grace, that was no cat.’’

‘‘What?’’ said the duke.

‘‘It was not a leopard.’’

‘‘I saw it!’’ said the duke, struggling with William.

‘‘It may have looked like a leopard, Your Grace, but it was not.’’

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‘‘What was it then?’’ asked Prince Vladic.

‘‘A magician,’’ said William, releasing the duke’s arm. ‘‘A lesser path magician.’’ He put up his sword.

‘‘A magician?’’ asked Paulina. ‘‘How can you be sure?’’

William said, ‘‘As you know cats, milady, I know magicians.

Trust me.’’

‘‘A shapeshifter?’’ asked Kazamir.

William nodded. ‘‘Leopard totem. And a powerful one to be able to shape himself like that.’’

‘‘He did come into camp as if he knew what he was doing, Father,’’ observed Paulina.

‘‘He wanted you to go after him,’’ said William. ‘‘He was hunting you.’’ He pointed to the Pathfinder who stood a short distance away. ‘‘He was first on the trail, but the magician let him pass and tried to break your back.’’

‘‘Break my back?’’

‘‘He leapt so as to land high on your back. It would have crushed your spine. The fact you moved when I shouted saved Your Grace from a painful death.’’

The Pathfinder said, ‘‘It’s truth, Your Grace. Had he landed on you, you’d be dead.’’

‘‘The claws as he departed were his way of making sure you followed,’’ said William.

‘‘Then I shall oblige him. I’ll hunt him in turn,’’ said the duke, ignoring the blood that was dripping from the cuts in his shoulder.

‘‘No, Your Grace,’’ said William. He motioned to Sergeant Matthews. ‘‘Your pleasure is hunting, but when it comes to hunting criminals, that’s my duty.’’ To Matthews he said, ‘‘Escort the duke back to his tent and see to his wounds. I want a dozen men up here, armed and ready.’’ To the Pathfinder he 150

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said, ‘‘See if you can pick up his trail, but be wary. Remember, this is a man you’re hunting, not an animal.’’

The Pathfinder gave a nod and headed up the forest track.

The duke seemed on the verge of starting a second argument when Prince Vladic said, ‘‘Come, Uncle. Let’s tend to those wounds, then we’ll see about this hunting of magicians.’’

William saw the duke study the trail, then give William a long, appraising look. With a nod of agreement, he turned and started the slow return to the camp. A short time later, a dozen men, armed and ready, appeared, and William signaled the way.

Softly he said, ‘‘We look for an ambush, either from a man or a cat, and we won’t know which until he strikes. Keep your interval on the trail.’’

William led the way, each man waiting a moment before following the man in front of him. One by one they moved off into the misty woods.

High above the sun shone, but deep in the woods there was nothing but gloom. ‘‘It’s queer,’’ whispered the Pathfinder. ‘‘It shouldn’t be this dark.’’

William nodded. ‘‘It’s as if . . .’’ He paused. He knew what this spell was, but had no name for it. Despite having grown up on the Isle of Stardock, William had had no interest in the study of magic—a fact which had driven a wedge between William and his father, Pug—but some knowledge had stuck to the young man. ‘‘It’s a darkness spell, to make things gloomy so the caster can work his way past . . .’’ Suddenly he stood erect and shouted, ‘‘Back to the camp!’’

‘‘He’s circled us?’’

‘‘It’s the duke he wants!’’ shouted William, turning to run 151

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past the soldier behind him. The others quickly followed. ‘‘At the double!’’

The men set off at a quick trot. With no need for silence, they made quick time of the distance back to the point of the first attack. William held up his hand and they paused to catch their breath for a minute, then they were off again.

For slow passing minutes, the only sound William heard was heavy boots pounding on the soil of the forest floor, the clanking of armor and weapons, and the labored breathing of the men. No one spoke as if they were conserving their energy, knowing a fight might await them at the end of their run.

William was the first to hear the struggle. As they approached the camp the sounds of battle rang out. He had a dozen men with him, so eight soldiers and Sergeant Matthews had remained in camp with the servants and bearers. Kazamir and the Prince would mean eleven able-bodied fighters, and William was certain the duke could still give a good account of himself despite his wounds. William cursed his own stupidity.

He had broken a cardinal rule of warfare: in the presence of an enemy, never split your forces unless by doing so you gain a clear and obvious advantage.

He had thought he faced one magician. He was obviously wrong.

Snarls and cat-screams sounded among the clash of weapons and William caught sight of the first cat as they came into camp. It was a large leopard, but spotted, not black like the magician in his cat form. As William ran at it, he sent his thoughts toward it,
Run! Bad! Danger!
But his mind hit a barrier, a mystic wall which kept his thoughts from reaching the cat’s mind, and prevented him from hearing the cat’s thoughts. Instead, the leopard snarled in rage and leapt at him.