Shards of a Broken Crown (36 page)

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Authors: Raymond Feist

Tags: #General, #Epic, #Fantasy, #Fiction

BOOK: Shards of a Broken Crown
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Patrick sat back
in his chair and said, “Gentlemen, first let me again express
my sorrow at your father’s death. His loss is not only to his
family and friends, but to the Kingdom as a whole.” Patrick
looked around the room as if seeking something. “It’s as
if I expect to see him at every hand. I know now just how much I’ve
come to rely upon his counsel.”

Patrick let out
a slow breath close to a sigh and continued, “But we must, as
ever, press on. Lord Silden will act as my counselor until the King
sees fit to name a new duke in Krondor.” Patrick looked at
Jimmy and said, “I know you well enough to know you didn’t
expect the office.”

Jimmy shook his
head. “Ten years from now, perhaps, but not now.”

Patrick nodded.
“Good, because we need you somewhere outside of Krondor.”

“Where,
Highness?”

“I need
someone dependable to keep an eye on Duko. You seem to get along well
enough with him, and I need someone down there who will keep him in
line.”

Jimmy bowed his
head. “Highness.”

“I’ve
sent a message to my father, Jimmy. Assume he’ll accept my
recommendation that you succeed your father as Earl of Vencar. It’s
a lovely little estate and your father would want you to have it.”

Jimmy bowed his
head in thanks. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Vencar was
where they had been raised. Like many of the estates on the original
island Kingdom of Rillanon, it was tiny by mainland standards. A
hundred acres of land, with a creek, meadows, and pastures. The
tenant farmers had ceased to work the land centuries before as
Rillanon had expanded its reach onto the mainland. But for its modest
size, it was among the most beautiful estates in the Kingdom. Their
grandfather had arranged for it to go to Arutha when the old Earl of
Vencar had died without heirs. Jimmy had been born in the palace, as
had his sister, but they had moved there when he was a baby. Dash had
been born there. It was home.

“So unless
my father writes back telling me I’m an idiot, from now
forward, you are Earl James.”

Jimmy said, “I
thank His Highness.”

Patrick said, “I
have a special job for you, Dash.”

“Highness.”

“We have a
problem here in Krondor. The army is in the North, and Duko’s
swords are down South. I’ve got the palace guard, and that’s
all. The city is returning to life and it’s being overrun by
thugs and ruffians, cutthroats and thieves. I need someone to bring
order. I think of all those I have around here, you have the most
affinity for the city streets. I am appointing you Sheriff of
Krondor. Until we can create a true City Watch and Office of
Constables, you are the law in the city. Recruit who you can, but
keep this city under control until the wars are over.”

Dash said,
“Sheriff?”

Patrick said,
“You object?”

“Ah . . .
no, Highness. I’m just a little surprised.”

“Life is
full of surprises,” said Patrick. He indicated some parchments
on his desk. “Reports from both fronts. The Keshians retreat
before Duko at Land’s End, but are raiding along the eastern
front near Shamata. They won’t get too close, for fear of the
magicians at Stardock, I think, but they’re harassing our
patrols, which are thin to start with. In the North Greylock has
consolidated in Sarth and is pushing northward.” Patrick got a
concerned look on his face. “Something is not right. The
defense along the coast is weak. We know that Fadawah offered up Duko
because he was fearful of Duko’s loyalty.

“Now it
appears he gave up Nordan in the same way, but by all reports Nordan
was his oldest and most trusted ally.”

“Perhaps
his hold over his men is less secure than we thought,” observed
Jimmy.

Brian of Silden
said, “All the reports indicate a difficult winter for the
invaders, with many dying of injuries and starvation. But we also
have word from our agents that they’re trading with Queg and
the Free Cities, food is plentiful, and they’re established in
Ylith.”

Patrick ran his
hand over his face. “Any word from Yabon?”

“None,”
said Duke Brian. “We’ve had nothing since the battle of
Sarth. No ships can get past Queg’s pirates to reach the Free
Cities. All our ships from the Far Coast were used to support the
raid. If word is coming, it is coming by runner, and the chances of a
courier getting through the enemy to reach us is thin. Perhaps when
we get closer to Ylith, we may hear of Yabon, but for now we must
pray the young Duke is able to keep LaMut and Yabon intact.”

Looking at Jimmy
and Dash, Patrick said, “Dine with me tonight, both of you, and
we’ll discuss your duties. In your case, Jimmy, before you
leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”
said Dash. “Patrick. . . Highness, I thought we would accompany
our father to Rillanon for his funeral.”

“No time,
sorry to say. You’ll have to say your own good-byes after
supper tonight. Perhaps we’ll hold a little wake after supper.
. . yes, that would be fitting. But the requirements of this war
don’t permit any of us the luxury for our personal grief or
joys. I had to lie to many nobles of the Kingdom about a state
wedding, and my intended is not as happy about being married in the
ashes of Krondor as she was at the thought of the King’s
palace. So we all make sacrifices.”

“At
supper, then,” said Dash.

“You are
dismissed,” said the Prince.

The brothers
bowed and left the Prince’s office.

“Do you
believe that?” said Jimmy.

“What?”
said Dash.

“That
business about ‘we all make sacrifices.’ “

Dash shrugged.
“It’s just Patrick. He never knows when he’s ahead
and when he should just shut up.”

Jimmy laughed as
they turned the corner toward their rooms. “You’ve got
that right. Probably why he was always such a bad card player.”

“Perfect,”
said Nakor.

Aleta stood
still, but she said, “I feel silly.”

“You look
wonderful,” said Nakor.

The young woman
stood on a box, a linen sheet around her head and shoulders,
otherwise garbed in her normal dress. A sculptor worked furiously in
clay, trying to capture her likeness. He had been at it for three
days, and stepped back and said, “It’s finished.”

Nakor walked
around it while Aleta got off the box and came to look at it. “Do
I look like that?” she asked.

“Yes,”
said Nakor. He continued to walk around it, and finally said, “Yes,
that will do.” Looking at the sculptor he asked, “How
long will this take?”

“How big
do you want it?”

“I want it
life-sized.” Pointing at Aleta, he said, “The same size
as her.”

“Then it
will take a month for each one.”

“Good. A
month should be fine.”

“Do you
want me to bring them here?”

“I want
one delivered here, to be put up in the wagon yard. The other one
bring to Krondor.”

“Krondor?
Mr. Avery didn’t say anything about trucking a statue all the
way to Krondor.”

“Do you
want to let wagoners put up your statue?”

The sculptor
shrugged. “Makes no difference to me, but it will cost extra.”

Nakor frowned.
“That’s between you and Roo.”

The sculptor
nodded and carefully wrapped up the clay reference piece in oilcloth
and moved it to his wagon, outside.

Aleta said, “Am
I done now?”

Nakor said,
“Probably not, but you don’t need to pose anymore.”

“What is
this all about?” she asked, folding up the sheet she had worn.
“I’ve felt very silly posing for that thing.”

“It’s
a statue of the Goddess.”

“You used
me for a statue of the Goddess!” She seemed appalled. “That’s
. . .”

Nakor looked
puzzled. “Something I don’t understand. But it was the
right choice.”

Brother Dominic
had been in the corner, observing the entire interaction, and he
said, “Child, trust me, this strange man knows things, things
he doesn’t understand. But if he knows them, they are true.”

The young woman
looked as if that explanation caused her even more confusion. Dominic
said, “If Nakor said it’s proper for you to pose for the
representation of the Goddess, then it is. Trust me on this. It’s
no blasphemy.”

The girl seemed
more reassured by that, and said, “Well, I have washing to do.”

She left, and
Dominic came over to Nakor and asked, “What is it you see in
that girl?”

Nakor shrugged.
“Something wonderful.”

“Care to
be more specific?”

“No,”
said Nakor. “Are you coming to Krondor with me?”

Dominic said,
“My instructions from the home temple are to accommodate your
plans to the best of my ability. If that means accompanying you to
Krondor, then I will go.”

Nakor said,
“That’s good. Things here will continue to operate
without me. Sho Pi can oversee the feeding of the hungry and teaching
the children. He’s already begun training disciples in the
basics of being a monk; the order of Dala is a good place to start,
and that will weed out those looking for a free meal and warm bed
from those who really want to contribute.”

“When do
we leave?” asked Dominic.

Nakor shrugged.
“In a day or two. The last detachments of the army will be
leaving to journey to Krondor, to join the Prince, and we can tag
along as escort.”

Dominic said,
“Very well. I will be ready.”

As Dominic left,
Nakor turned and regarded Aleta, who was hanging washing on a line
across the courtyard. The sunlight struck her from behind, putting a
golden nimbus of light around her head for a moment as she stood on
her tiptoes to clip the clothing to the line. Nakor grinned.
“Something very wonderful,” he said to himself.

Dinner was
quiet. Conversation had been subdued throughout the evening. Mostly
it had been sporadic, on this or that issue before the throne, or a
small remembrance of Lord Arutha, but long periods passed in silence.

As the last
course was removed, waiters appeared with trays upon which rested
crystal goblets and decanters of brandy. Patrick said, “As the
sons of Lord Arutha are not permitted the relief of returning with
their father to the capital for his funeral, I thought it appropriate
to honor him with an informal wake. If you would be so kind,
gentlemen, a word or two in remembrance would be appropriate.

“Lord
Brian?”

The Duke of
Silden said, “Since boyhood, Arutha and I were friends. If I
was to name the one quality of his many that I found most remarkable,
it was his unrivaled clarity of thought. Whatever opinion he gave, on
whatever subject, it was the distillation of a remarkable mind. He
may have been the most gifted man I have known.”

Jimmy and Dash
exchanged glances, for they had never considered what his peers might
have thought of their father.

The other nobles
made their remarks, and last before the boys was Captain Subai. Not
given to long speeches, he seemed uncomfortable, but nevertheless
said, “I think of the Duke as perhaps the wisest man I’ve
known. He knew his limits and yet was not afraid to challenge them.
He put the welfare of others above his own. He loved his family. He
will be missed.”

Subai looked at
Jimmy, who said, “He was named for a great man.” Jimmy
nodded toward Patrick, who acknowledged the reference to his
grandfather. “He was raised by a man who may be unique in our
history. Yet he knew how to be himself.” Looking at Patrick, he
said, “I think about being the grandson of Lord James of
Krondor, perhaps because I was named for him. I rarely thought what
it must have been like to be his son.” Tears gathered in
James’s eyes as he said, “I just wish I could have told
him how much he meant to me.”

Dash said, “I
too. I think I may have taken him for granted. I hope I never make
that mistake with anyone else who is dear to me.”

The Prince
stood, taking a glass from the servant. Others did as well. Jimmy and
Dash each lifted a glass as the Prince said, “Lord Arutha!”

Everyone at
supper, Lord Silden, Captain Subai, and the other nobles invited to
Patrick’s “intimate” dinner echoed the toast and
drank. Then Patrick said, “This supper is now over, gentlemen.”
He withdrew from the hall, and the rest of the guests waited the
appropriate time before themselves leaving the hall.

James and
Patrick left the hall, a step behind Lord Silden and Captain Subai.
They bid the other men good night and returned to their rooms. Jimmy
was about to bid Dash good night when a page came running.
“Gentlemen, please! Attend the Prince at once!”

They hurried
after the page, who led them back to the Prince’s office.
Inside they found Patrick standing before his desk. His face was a
red mask of rage and in his fist he held a message that he had
crushed. He held it out to Lord Silden, who unfolded and read it. His
eyes widened. “Gods!” he said. Looking stricken, he said
quietly, “LaMut has fallen.”

Patrick said, “A
soldier escaped and made his way to Loriel, with half of Fadawah’s
army behind him. He died after delivering the message. It came south
by fast courier from there to Darkmoor, then to here. LaMut has been
in enemy hands for three weeks now.” Patrick spoke bitterly.

“We
congratulated ourselves on the ease with which we took Sarth, and it
was all a trade. He gave us back a fishing town, a port of no
importance, and in exchange he took the heart of Yabon! Yabon City is
now at grave peril and we are no closer to retaking Ylith than we
were at first thaw!”

The Prince
looked close to being frantic. Suddenly, Jimmy and Dash were
painfully aware of how the absence of their father was being felt.
They both glanced at Brian Silden, who stood silently, looking afraid
to speak. Patrick finally said, “I know, we must get word to
Yabon! We must send word to Duke Carl to hold until we can get relief
to him.”

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