Shards of a Broken Crown (26 page)

“It’s
not that,” he said, rising slowly. “I just found out
she’s marrying someone else.”

“Ah,”
said Aleta, as if she understood. “Does she know?”

“What?”

“That
you’re killing yourself with ale over her?”

“No. We
were friends as children . . .” He squinted at her. “Why
am I telling you this?”

She smiled.
“Because you need to?”

He took another
drink of water. “Thank you. I think I’ll see what my
brother is doing.”

He walked on
shaky legs through a warehouse bustling with activity. When he was
almost to the door of Nakor’s office, the large outer doors to
the warehouse swung open and filled it with light. Jimmy turned to
see a wagon being driven up to and then into the entrance, with other
wagons behind it.

The door to the
office opened behind Jimmy, and Nakor came rushing out. “Roo!”
he shouted as he passed Jimmy. “You’re here with the
food!”

Dash followed
and stopped next to his brother. “Are you alive?”

“Barely,”
croaked Jimmy. “What happened?”

“You
attempted to drown yourself in ale. You failed.”

“I know,
but how did we get here?”

“Father
sent me after you and told me to get you drunk and in the arms of a
tavern wench.”

“Seems you
succeeded with half the order.”

“Well,
there were a couple of ladies willing to accommodate, but you seemed
in no mood.”

“I’m
a mess,” said Jimmy. “I don’t really know how I
feel about all this.”

Dash shrugged.
“Maybe that’s the best. We’ve both known since
childhood we were to have no say in who we wed. With Father being
Duke of Krondor, it’s too important we wed for the good of the
state.”

“I know,
but I feel so . . .”

“What?”

Jimmy sighed. “I
don’t know.”

“It isn’t
about Francie, you know,” said Dash.

“No?”

“No,”
said Dash. “If she’s the Queen there’s nothing to
keep the two of you apart; the Gods know the court is well practiced
in looking the other way. No, it’s something else. It’s
about you and what you really want.”

“I don’t
understand.”

“I don’t
think I do, really, but it’s about you.” He looked at the
wagon. “I still half expect to see Jason on one of those
wagons,” Dash said reflectively.

Jason had been
an employee of Rupert’s Bitter Sea Company when Dash had served
there, and had been feeding information to Rupert’s rival,
Jacob Esterbrook, because of his misguided love for Jacob’s
daughter. He had died in the war.

As the first
wagon entered the warehouse, Jimmy said, “Tell me, who’s
that girl?”

“Which
one?” Dash asked.

“That one
over there, who gave me water. She said her name was Aleta.”

“Then you
know more of her than I,” said Dash. “Why don’t you
ask Nakor.”

“There’s
something odd about her. Nice, but odd.”

Dash said,
“There’s Luis!” He hurried past Jimmy to the second
wagon, where Luis de Savona sat next to a woman Dash didn’t
recognize. Luis jumped down, and Dash said, “Luis! It’s
good to see you again.”

Luis shook hands
with Dash and said, “It’s good to see you again, young
Mr. Jamison. I was grieved to learn of your grandparents’
death.” Luis had spent the winter in Salador, overseeing Roo’s
holdings in the East while Roo had worked in Darkmoor.

Dash said, “I
appreciate that.” He then noticed the woman as she climbed down
off the wagon. “Mrs. Avery?” he said in wonder.

Karli Avery had
been a plain-looking, pale and plump woman. The woman who was
stepping before him was slender, tanned, and while still not pretty,
had an alive, expressive face that commanded attention. “Dash!”
she said, taking his hands and kissing his cheek. “How are
you?”

“I’m
just fine, Mrs. Avery, but you . . . you look so different!”

She laughed.
“There’s been a great deal of work and not much food all
winter. Loading and unloading wagons, learning to drive them, caring
for the children. Spending days in the sun; it all changes a person.”

“Quite
so,” observed Dash. Jimmy approached, and Dash said, “You
remember my brother, don’t you?”

Both said hello
to Jimmy, and Dash said, “What of the children, and Mrs.
Jacoby?”

“All back
in Salador, under Helen’s care,” said Karli, “only
it’s no longer Mrs. Jacoby. She’s Mrs. de Savona now.”

Dash laughed and
playfully struck Luis in the arm. “You got married!”

Roo walked over
with Nakor at his side. “He most certainly did.”

Nakor
congratulated his old companion, and said, “I hope you’re
at last happy.”

Luis smiled. “As
happy as I’m likely to be, you odd little man.”

“That will
have to do,” said Nakor. To Roo he said, “Did you get my
grain and my statue maker?”

Roo said, “I
haven’t found the sculptor yet, but here’s your grain.”

“Did the
wagon makers prove useful?” asked Nakor as he began inspecting
the contents of the two wagons. Other wagons were arriving outside.

Roo said, “Very.
I’m of a mind to be early into Krondor; there may be a very
large number of skilled artisans and craftsmen among the invaders. If
I can recruit them . . .”

Jimmy and Dash
exchanged glances. Jimmy asked, “How do you know they’ll
be free to work, considering there’s a war going on?”

Roo laughed.
“I’m not without my sources, and I knew Patrick was going
to cut a deal with Duko about an hour after you did.”

“Sources?”

“Your
father,” said Roo, laughing. “He’s not quite as
evil-minded as your grandfather, but your father is no slouch when it
comes to making sure he has all his resources ready. Besides, I’m
the largest single debt-holder on the Royal Treasury, so he has to
keep me apprised of what’s going on.”

Jimmy said,
“Well, then, I expect you’ll recover your losses before
you’re through.”

Nakor said, “If
he doesn’t get himself killed first.”

Roo threw Nakor
a dark look. “I’m not volunteering for any more
hare—brained missions, you can bet. From now on I’m a
conservative family man, a businessman who will stay home and look
after his holdings.”

From nearby
another voice said, “After we take care of a little job.”

All eyes turned
to see Erik von Darkmoor standing nearby. “I came looking for
all of you; how convenient I find all of you together.” To Dash
and Jimmy, he said, “Report to your father, now, gentlemen.”

The brothers
didn’t hesitate, and started for the door. As Jimmy passed the
young woman who gave him water, he said, “Thanks again.”

She nodded and
smiled and said nothing.

Erik turned to
Nakor. “Can you reach Brother Dominic?”

Nakor nodded.
“He’s due back from Rillanon, soon. He’s supposed
to be bringing me word as to the Temple of Ishap’s willingness
to support our efforts here. I suspect he is either in Salador or on
the road from Salador to here.”

“I’ll
send a patrol eastward, looking for him. If he somehow gets here
before they find him, please let Duke Arutha know.”

Nakor nodded.
“Why, if I may ask?”

“You can
ask,” said Erik. “I can’t answer. You’ll have
to ask Duke Arutha.”

Nakor said, “I
might.”

To Roo, Erik
said, “I need to speak with you.” He glanced at Luis and
Karli, saying, “Excuse me, please.”

He led Roo to a
distant corner of the warehouse-turned-temple, and when they were
alone, he said, “Who do you have still working for you in
Sarth?”

Roo asked, “What
makes you think I have anyone working for me in Sarth?”

Erik said, “Roo,
it’s me you’re talking to. Now, who do you have still
working for you in Sarth?”

Roo said, “John
Vinci. He acts as an independent trader; he specializes in bringing
in contraband from Queg. That’s why it’s not widely known
he works for me.”

“Good. We
need to visit with him.”

“What?”
said Roo. “We? Visit?”

Erik said, “We
need to see how things are in Sarth before we turn northward. We need
to come back with a detailed report before Owen takes the army and
moves to crush Nordan in Sarth. We’ve sent scouts around the
area, and most of them have come back, but we can’t tell how
strong the deployment is inside the town. We need to get inside and
look around.”

Roo looked his
boyhood friend in the eye, and said, “When you say ‘we,’
you’re speaking of the Kingdom army, right?”

“No, I
mean you and I need to get in there and scout.”

Roo said, “No!”

“You
must,” said Erik. “You’re the only man we know who
has a plausible enough story that can get us into Sarth without
getting our throats cut.”

“What
story?”

“You’re
a well-known Kingdom merchant who has openly traded with Queg and the
Free Cities. You’re reputed to put a profit above everything
else. If you were to sneak into Sarth—especially with your
friend Vinci ready to corroborate your story—even if we get
apprehended, you’ll be convincing in your role as the greedy
merchant anxious to set up trade before his competition does.”

“We?”

“I’m
going, too,” said Erik.

Roo still looked
unconvinced. “So you’ll be standing beside me on the
gibbet again? Only this time there won’t be any Bobby de
Longville to haul us to our feet and explain we’re being
reprieved to serve the crown.

“No, thank
you. I’ve done my service and been pardoned for my crimes.”

“You want
to see any of the money the crown owes you, ever again?”

“It’s
my most ardent hope.”

“Then I’d
consider this, Roo.”

He glanced
around. “This isn’t the place to talk. Come to the castle
tonight and seek me out in my quarters. I’ll explain more
then.”

Roo said, “For
the sake of our friendship, I will, but I’m not going on any
more stone-headed missions, Erik.”

The smuggler’s
boat sailed silently up the coast, hugging as close inshore as
possible, without shoaling out on the reefs which dotted the
shoreline between Krondor and Ylith.

Roo and Erik had
ridden to within a half-day’s walk of the coast, just beyond a
checkpoint Duko had established, and escort riders had taken die
horses back to Owen Greylock’s forward position. An unofficial
channel of communication was already in operation, and even though
few outside of the Prince’s immediate circle knew of the coming
change in loyalties on Duke Duko’s part, there were rumors of
change in the wind.

Most of them
planted by Duke Arutha’s agents.

The current one
being carefully fostered was that the Kingdom couldn’t mount an
offensive this year against the invaders in the North, due in the
main to Kesh’s threatening presence on their southern flank.
Additionally, it was rumored, the Prince would be leaving soon for
the East, to get married in the royal palace at Rillanon, leaving the
command in the West to Owen Greylock, with express orders to hold
where they were, defend where necessary, but to seek no offensive.

Roo had been
astonished by the scope of the deception. He had been told by Erik
that Arutha’s agents were already in Krondor, quietly
undertaking the transfer of power, with as little fanfare as
possible. It was Erik’s passionate hope that by the time the
Armies of the West were ready to redeploy, not only would the enemy
be taken by surprise, but they would have been lulled into a state of
complacency.

A crewman
whispered, “We’re nearly there. Get ready.”

Roo said, “Are
you sure this is necessary?”

“Absolutely,”
said Erik.

The Captain
ordered sail lowered and a small boat was put over the side. Neither
Erik nor Roo were sailors, but Erik felt competent enough to row a
boat into a quiet fishing village without calling too much attention
to themselves.

The boat was
lowered and Erik and Roo shimmied down ropes to get into the skiff,
and by the time Erik had the oars in the oarlocks, the smuggler had
his sails up and was putting out toward deeper water. The current
here ran southeast, and Erik was forced to work to keep on course,
trying to come in at a fishing village in a sandy cove just south of
Sarth.

Roo said, “Are
you all right?”

Erik pulled hard
and the boat seem to jump forward. “Everything’s fine.”

The sound of
breakers wasn’t loud, as the surf was relatively calm, but it
still picked the boat up as the combers ran up on the shore, turning
into breakers. Erik pulled and the boat seemed to be climbing a hill,
only to slide backward a bit as the wave broke just in front of them.

Suddenly the bow
of the boat dipped and Roo glanced over his shoulder and realized he
was looking at water. “Erik!” he shouted as the wave
crashed down upon him, drenching him to the skin in moments.

The boat
wallowed and turned sideways as Erik fought to keep it pointed at the
beach. The boat tipped to the left, then suddenly it flipped, and
Erik and Roo both were tossed into the water.

Roo sputtered as
he came up, and to his irritation found he was only waist deep in
water. He looked around and saw Erik standing a few yards away. The
boat, upside down, was being pushed into the sand by the waves.

Wading over
toward Erik, Roo was about to comment on Erik’s boat-handling
skills when a lantern a dozen yards away was unshuttered. Men stood
at the edge of the water, visible in the lantern’s light;
torches were lit. Soon, Erik and Roo could see a score of armed men,
many with bows or crossbows pointed in their direction, facing them
from the dry sand. In the distance, behind them, the faint outlines
of the fishing village could be seen.

Roo turned to
Erik and said, “Everything’s fine?”

Roo sneezed.

Erik sipped at a
hot cup of Keshian coffee. They were sitting in a large hut near the
beach, warming themselves before a fire while their clothing was
drying on a line strung in front of the rude stone fireplace.