Krondor the Assassins (19 page)

‘‘Do what you can,’’ said the duke, now looking paler by the minute. Then he added, ‘‘Please.’’

Sidi opened his bag and took out a pouch. ‘‘This will hurt, my lord.’’

‘‘Do what you must.’’

The flesh around the wound was now white and puffy, and the wound itself seeped blood mixed with a thin whitish fluid.

It stank of mortification. Sidi opened the pouch and liberally sprinkled a green powder over the wound. The duke sucked 162

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his breath between clenched teeth. Kazamir reached past William and took his father’s hand, and the duke gripped tight, tears forming in his eyes and running down his face.

After a moment he said weakly, ‘‘By the gods! That burns like a cauterizing iron!’’

Sidi nodded. ‘‘It is much the same, my lord. The powder burns away infection. It does not always work, but in the past it has helped.’’

The duke lay back and said, ‘‘I think I’ll sleep now.’’

The room quickly emptied save for Kazamir who stayed with his father. Vladic took William aside as the others moved down the hall and stairs to the floor below. ‘‘Lieutenant, what is the situation?’’

William decided that holding nothing back would be the best course. ‘‘We have a dozen swords, and this inn is defensible. Relief should arrive at mid-morning tomorrow, and I’ve asked for a healer to be sent with the soldiers, so your uncle will most likely survive.’’

‘‘Assuming we’re alive when relief gets here.’’ He looked at William and said, ‘‘You expect another attack?’’

William took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘‘I don’t know what to expect, so I’m preparing for the worst.’’

‘‘Tell me about the attack. You said earlier you know of magic. What do you know?’’

William said, ‘‘My father is the Duke of Stardock, and that is where I was raised. I’ve seen a lot and heard more. Those three who attacked us numbered at least one, probably two very powerful magicians of the Lesser Path. The one who lured your uncle . . .’’ William paused, then added, ‘‘Some magicians swear to a totem creature, in exchange for certain abilities. One of those is the ability to take the creature’s shape. The longer 163

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the magician is in the animal guise the more he thinks like that animal, so this is a dangerous thing to undertake. But the more powerful the magicians, the more powerful the animal. That great black leopard totem tells us the man calling himself Jaquin Medosa was a very powerful practitioner of magic. I think there are those at Stardock, perhaps my father, who might know this man by another name, for a magician of the Leopard Totem who is that adept will have been heard of.’’

‘‘Why would powerful magicians seek my death?’’

William said, ‘‘The reasons to kill a Prince are as numerous as there are ambitious men in your nation, Your Highness. Any of those reasons could be the motive.’’

‘‘An assassin?’’

‘‘I think so; it is the best explanation I can come up with, unless you have enemies with close ties to magicians. There are others in Prince Arutha’s court who will be better informed on that topic than myself. All I can give you is speculation, and that is of little worth.’’

The Prince had a distant look. ‘‘You’ve given me a great deal, already, lieutenant.’’ Then he looked William in the eyes.

‘‘But tonight?’’

‘‘If there were but three of them, we are safe. Even had they survived, they would be too exhausted to hunt us. Summoning that many animals of the totem is a feat that requires days of recovery. That is why there were two of them. The third was there to protect those controlling the animals.’’

Vladic nodded. ‘‘How is it that you resisted his magic?’’

William held up his hand. ‘‘This ring protected me.’’

‘‘A favorable talisman. But why do you wear it?’’

William couldn’t avoid blushing. ‘‘Ah, actually, a friend gave 164

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it to me so I might better resist your cousin’s charms, and keep my mind on my duty.’’

Vladic gave William a half-smile and said, ‘‘You’ll go far, lieutenant.’’ He looked down the stairs and then said, ‘‘We need to eat. I doubt we’ll have a quiet night.’’

‘‘Why, Highness?’’ asked William as he followed.

‘‘For those who undertook this elaborate ambush not to have a contingency plan in case the first attack failed would be too much to hope for; we just can’t be that lucky.’’

William said, ‘‘I agree,’’ and walked down the steps, his mind churning with various different defense plans.

William had stationed men at every possible entrance to the building. He had removed two men who had tended the horses, assuming that any in the barn would be among the most vulnerable. There were two soldiers at the kitchen door, two at the main door. Both doors were barred with a stout oak timber, though from the look of the iron fasteners on each side of the main door, they would only stop a casual passer-by trying to open the door; the iron was heavily rusted and one good shove would pop the rivets that held them into the wood. There were men at both the downstairs windows. Sergeant Matthews was upstairs standing guard outside the duke’s door, with another man at the window at the end of the hall, overlooking the stabling area behind the inn.

The remaining six men slept under tables in the common room, in their armor with weapons beside them. William had managed to sleep in armor a time or two during training, but reckoned he would never get the knack of it, or have to be a great deal more tired than he had been when he last tried it.

He sat at the table where they had dined the day before, 165

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too keyed up even to contemplate sleeping. He lost track of time, turning over the day’s events in his mind a hundred times.

He knew he could not have handled things better, yet felt as if he had somehow failed in his duty. A noble of a neighboring nation lay abed upstairs at grave risk, men had died, and he had barely avoided losing everything. He was certain Captain Treggar would have something to say to him.

His mind wandered and he started to doze where he sat when a movement beside him caused him to start awake. It was the man Sidi, who said, ‘‘I didn’t mean to disturb you, lieutenant.’’

‘‘That’s all right. I need to stay alert.’’

‘‘If they come, it will be soon. Dawn is but two hours away.’’

The stranger was correct. Just before dawn was when men were the most sluggish and most commanders took advantage of that knowledge when they could.

William studied the strange man in the gloom, the room’s darkness cut by only one small candle. ‘‘What do you do, if I may ask?’’

‘‘I live in a small village inland from the town of Halden Head, up near Widow’s Point.’’

William knew of the area, though he had only traveled through there once. ‘‘Rough country.’’

‘‘It can be, but it suits my needs.’’

‘‘And they would be?’’

The man shrugged. ‘‘I trade. Items, gems, rare minerals, sometimes knowledge. There are men and other creatures, goblins and trolls, who are willing to sell me things in exchange for other goods I have.’’

William said sharply, ‘‘You wouldn’t be running weapons, would you?’’

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Sidi said, ‘‘I have other items trolls and goblins value. One does not have to deal in contraband to trade with them.’’

William sighed. ‘‘I’m sorry to be so distrustful, but under the circumstances . . .’’

‘‘I understand. I was eating with the man who attacked your party. I do dabble in trade that many would look upon with suspicion.’’

William stared at the door as if expecting someone to break in any instant. ‘‘Are they coming?’’ he asked absently.

Sidi said, ‘‘We shall know shortly.’’

They waited in silence.

Minutes dragged by, then one of the sentries said,

‘‘Lieutenant!’’

‘‘What?’’ asked William, standing up and drawing his sword.

‘‘Movement, outside,’’ said the guard.

William listened. For moments he couldn’t hear any sounds out of the ordinary, then he heard it. Someone or something was creeping around the inn, probably inspecting the windows.

Abruptly, the sound of running feet came from outside, then the door exploded inward with a loud crash. There was no need to shout alarm, as men rolled out from under the tables beneath which they had slept, weapons in hand.

Four men had used a large log as a ram, and dropped it as they surged forward. Weaponless, they hurled themselves at William, Sidi and two other sentries, allowing four armed men behind them to enter the room.

William kicked an attacker in the groin and cut the man behind him as he turned toward Sidi. Sidi brandished a dagger and was facing down a man who was in the process of drawing out a curved sword.

Noise from upstairs told William that Matthews was secur-167

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ing the duke’s room and getting ready for the two who were now rushing up the stairs.

The armed men proved to be far more difficult foes than the four who had first come through the door. William’s men had disposed of the latter quickly, but the armed men were advancing warily.

Each attacker was attired in black, with a loose head-cov-ering that left only the eyes exposed. They wore baggy pants that were gathered at the ankle, tucked into low black boots.

Their black shirts were tightly fastened at the neck and wrists, and their weapons had all been blackened. William shouted,

‘‘Clear the door in case there are archers outside!’’

The man facing William lashed out with his curved blade, and William took it on his own two-handed sword. The clang of metal upon metal rang out all over the room. His attacker slashed from the other side and William realized he was being measured. William intentionally let his guard lower, anticipating that when the third testing blow came, it would be followed by a furious slash that was intended to cut above his blade and take him across the chest.

Instead the man’s eyes widened in shock as William’s sword-point took him in the chest. Early on in his training William had realized that most swordsmen consider the longsword a slashing weapon and don’t anticipate the danger from the point. He had developed that skill as much as possible, often using the sword as other men used the broadsword or rapier. As more than one instructor had said, the slash wounds, but the thrust kills.

The fallen man had barely hit the floor when William saw two men in black hurrying up the stairs. He sped after them, and found them struggling with Matthews and two guardsmen.

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William felled one from behind, while the other killed the soldier next to Matthews.

Matthews managed to cut the attacker, who ignored any pain and spun to push the sergeant into William. Tangled for a moment, they saw the man hurl himself against the door to the duke’s room.

The door crashed inward, causing splinters to fly through the air like tiny missiles. A scream sounded from the room next to the duke’s.

‘‘The Princess!’’ William shouted to Matthews as he half-pushed, half-pointed the sergeant toward the duke’s room. William raised his foot and kicked hard against the door to Paulina’s room. The shock ran straight up his leg to his hip, but the door gave way, swinging inward.

Paulina sat cowering in the corner, her fists before her face as the wooden shutters of her window splintered and fell away. Another black-clad warrior was entering from outside. William raced forward, holding his sword with both hands, leveled like a lance.

The man died soundlessly.

William knelt next to the Princess, who looked at him in horror. ‘‘Are you all right?’’ he shouted, as if his loud voice might reach past the fear.

She stared at him and shook her head slightly. He took that to mean she was unhurt. Without any idea how things fared in the rest of the inn, he could only say, ‘‘Don’t move.

Stay right here until someone comes to fetch you.’’

He hurried next door to find Vladic, Kazamir and Matthews standing over two dead assassins. The duke lay half-conscious, staring up at his son and nephew, as if confused as to who they were.

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Seeing no immediate danger, William said, ‘‘Sergeant, come with me.’’

They hurried down the stairs and found three guardsmen lying dead on the floor, with five black-clad warriors stretched out beside them. Sounds of struggle came from the kitchen and William said, ‘‘Sergeant, guard the stairs,’’ and he raced into the kitchen.

Dead bodies littered the floor, among them the innkeeper, his wife, and the serving girl. Two soldiers, obviously wounded, had one last invader cornered. He stood with his back to the wall, a curved sword in his right hand, a dagger in his left.

‘‘Keep him alive!’’ shouted William.

Seeing no escape, the man reached up with the dagger and with one quick motion cut his own throat.

The two soldiers and William stepped back, astonished at the act. William hesitated, then knelt next to the man. His eyes were staring upward, and what life in them fled in moments as the blood gushed from his neck.

‘‘Fanatics!’’ said one of the soldiers, holding his sword in his left hand while his right hung limply.

William sat back on his heels. ‘‘Yes, fanatics,’’ he said.

The other solder, holding his bleeding side with a bleeding hand said, ‘‘Lieutenant, what were they? Nighthawks?’’

‘‘I don’t think so,’’ said William. He had an idea what they were, but thought better of saying anything to the men. He stood and said, ‘‘Let’s get this place as secure as we can.’’

The two men nodded and one tried a salute, but William waved it off. ‘‘Get yourself bandaged.’’

William inspected the kitchen. Besides the bodies of the innkeeper, his wife and the serving-girl, three more assassins lay dead, as did the two guardsmen he had stationed there originally.

William stuck his head out of the door that opened onto 170

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the stabling yard and saw the sky to the east was lightening.