Shards of a Broken Crown (54 page)

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Authors: Raymond Feist

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BOOK: Shards of a Broken Crown
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Richard said,
“For one so young, you’ve seen a great deal of war,
haven’t you?”

Erik nodded.
“I’m not yet twenty-six years of age, m’lord, yet I
feel old in my bones.”

“Get some
rest,” suggested Richard.

Erik nodded as
he left the tent. He saw a soldier in the black tunic of the Crimson
Eagles, and said, “Sean, where is our camp?”

“Over
there, Captain,” answered the soldier as he hurried past.

Erik moved in
the indicated direction and found a dozen members of his old command
setting up their tents. “Bless you, Jadow,” he said when
he saw his own tent already up. Erik flung himself down on the
bedroll waiting for him and was asleep within seconds.

“Ring the
alarm,” said Dash.

“What?”
asked Patrick, a look of incredulity on his face.

“I said
ring the alarm. Spread word that a Keshian army is advancing on the
city, and those soldiers hidden within the city will leap to attack
the positions they’re supposed to. Only instead of taking our
soldiers from behind, our soldiers will be waiting for them.”

“Isn’t
that extreme?” asked Duke Rufio, recently arrived from Rodez.
Dash knew him slightly from his time at the King’s court in
Rillanon, and knew him to be a no-nonsense sort of fellow. He was a
competent administrator, an adequate military advisor, and a fair
rider and swordsman, exactly the wrong man for Krondor on the brink
of a crisis. Ruflo would prove a fine administrator for a talented
monarch served by a brilliant general, thought Dash. Unfortunately,
he had only Patrick and Dash to depend on, and Dash was now certain
he would have to improvise and be dazzling else Krondor would be
lost.

“Yes, Your
Grace, it is extreme,” answered Dash, “but it’s
better to flush them out when we’re ready for them than to have
them appear behind us at the height of an attack. I’ve seen
enough proof there are weapons and food caches in the sewers so that
armed insurrection inside the city can commence with any attack from
outside.”

“If there
is any attack,” said Patrick. He remained dubious about the
entire possibility. He was convinced that negotiations underway at
Stardock would eventually yield a solution. Even the revelation that
Malar Enares had been a Keshian spy, and the lack of response to an
inquiry about Jimmy’s arrival at Port Vykor, didn’t
persuade him there was the risk of a surprise attack against the
capital of the Western Realm.

Dash had never
been close to Patrick. More of an age with Jimmy and Francie, Dash
had always been the “tag-along” as children, and during
the period when Dash and Jimmy had been tossed out of the palace to
learn in the rough and tumble of the docks at Rillanon, Patrick had
been visiting the eastern courts, learning diplomacy. Even as young
men, Dash and Patrick had felt little affinity for one another. Dash
was sure Patrick had redeeming qualities, but at this moment, he
couldn’t begin to think what they were.

“If you
know who these men are,” suggested Patrick, “the ones who
are secreting all these weapons and food, why don’t you just
arrest them?”

“Because
presently I have less than one hundred constables, and I believe
there are close to a thousand enemy soldiers scattered throughout the
city. As soon as I arrest the first bunch, the rest will go to
ground. And I don’t know who all of them are. I think I’ve
got some lying low aboard ships off the coast, and there may be some
in the caravansary outside the gate, and who knows how many are
lurking down in the sewers.

“But if I
ring the alarm bell, and you have the soldiers in the city placed at
key locations, between them and my constables, we can eliminate this
threat.”

Duke Rufio said,
“I have two hundred soldiers en route from Rodez who should be
arriving here within the week. Perhaps when they arrive?”

Dash tried
mightily to hide his aggravation. He almost succeeded. “At
least let me employee more men,” Dash pleaded.

Patrick said,
“The treasury is low; you’ll have to make do with what
you have.”

“What
about volunteers?” asked Dash.

“If anyone
volunteers to serve, swear them to duty. Do whatever you have to.
Perhaps after the war we might pay them.” Patrick looked as if
he had run out of patience. “That will be all, Sheriff,”
said Patrick.

Dash bowed and
removed himself from the office. Stalking down the hall, he was lost
in thought when he turned a corner and almost ran into Francie.
“Dash!” she said, sounding pleased to see him. “It’s
been so long.”

“I’ve
been busy,” he said, still feeling nettled over Patrick’s
dismissal of his idea.

“Everyone
has. Father tells me your job is probably as thankless as anyone’s
in the palace, yet he thinks you’re doing it well.”

“Thanks,”
said Dash. “Are you staying here in Krondor, now that Duko
Rufio has assumed office?”

“Father
and I leave for Rillanon in a week,” said Francie. “We
have to make plans . . .”

“For the
wedding?”

Francie nodded.
“No one is supposed to know; the King will announce it after
things calm down . . . .” She looked troubled.

“What is
it?”

Lowering her
voice she said, “Have you heard anything from Jimmy?”

“No,”
he said.

“I’m
worried about him,” said Francie. “He left in such a
hurry and we really had little chance to talk. . . about things.”

Dash had no time
for this. “Francie, he’s fine, and as for talking about
things, well, perhaps after the wedding, when Patrick’s
returned and you’re Princess of Krondor, you can order him to
come to a garden party . . .”

“Dash!”
said Francie, looking hurt. “Why are you being so mean?”

Dash sighed.
“Because I’m tired, angry, frustrated, and because your
future husband is being . . . well, he’s being Patrick. And if
you want to know, I’m worried about Jimmy, too.”

Francie nodded.
“Is he really upset by my marrying Patrick?”

Dash shrugged.
“I don’t know. I think in a way, yes, but in another way
he knows things have to be what they are. He’s . . . confused,
like the rest of us.”

Francie sighed.
“I just want him to be my friend.”

Dash tried to
force a smile. “You shouldn’t worry about that. Jimmy’s
very loyal. He’ll always be your friend.” He bowed
slightly. “Well, milady, I must be off. There’s too much
to do and I’m already late.”

“Good-bye,
Dash,” she said, and Dash detected a note of sadness in her
voice, as if they were parting forever.

“Good-bye,
Francie,” he said as he turned and walked off. Here he was
trying to keep the city intact, and she was concerned with hurt
feelings. Dash knew he was in a bad mood, but he also knew it was
well earned. And he knew he was likely to be in a worse one if he
didn’t come up with some way to neutralize those forces hostile
to the crown already secreted inside the city.

Subai was
astonished, as was every human upon first viewing Elvandar. He had
been led through the glades to the large clearing surrounding the
heart of the elven forests, and when he had spied the giant trees of
luminous colors he had been moved to his most expressive exclamation
in years. “Killian! What joy!” he had whispered.

Adelin said, “Of
those beings you humans worship, we revere Killian most.”

He led the tired
and hungry Captain to the Queen’s court, and by the time Subai
reached it, he felt far better than he had any reason to expect. He
suspected it had something to do with the magic associated with the
place, according to legend.

He bowed before
the two beings sitting upon the dais, a woman of stunning if alien
beauty, and a tall, powerfully built but young-looking man. “Your
Majesty,” he said to the Queen. “My lord,” he said
to the man.

“Welcome,”
said the Elf Queen, and her voice was soft and musical. “You
have come a great distance, and at great peril. Take your ease and
tell us of your message from your Prince.”

Subai looked
around the Queen’s Council. Three elderly-looking, grey-haired
elves stood to her right hand, one wearing rich-looking robes, the
second an impressive-looking suit of armor with a sword at his side,
and the third a simple blue robe with a corded belt.

Next to Tomas,
Prince-Consort of Elvandar, stood a young-looking elf, one who bore a
resemblance to the Queen, and Subai deduced this to be her older son,
Calin. To his left stood a familiar figure: Calis. Next to Calis was
a man wearing leathers and a long grey cloak.

Subai said to
the Queen, “The message is this, Fair Queen: an enemy of great
evil lies between our realms. Calis as much as any man knows this
evil. He has faced it more than anyone, and knows it wears many
faces.”

“What
would you have of us?” asked the Queen.

Subai looked
from face to face. “I do not know, Great Queen. I had hoped to
find the magician Pug here, for it may be we are at the mercy of
powers only he might face.”

Tomas stood and
said, “Should we have need of Pug I can promise you a quick
passage to him. He has returned to his island and can be found
there.”

Calis said,
“Mother, may I speak?” The Queen nodded, and Calis said,
“Subai, the Emerald Queen is dead and so is the demon who
destroyed her. Surely the Kingdom can deal with the remaining
invaders.”

“I wish
that it were so, Calis,” said Subai. “But on my way here
I saw things that make me think we have again encountered more than
we’ve suspected. I’ve seen the return of those men you
told us of, the Immortals, and other drinkers of blood. I’ve
seen men, women, and children sacrificed up to dark powers. I’ve
seen bodies piled in pits, and mystic fires burning in villages. I’ve
heard chants and songs that no human should hear. Whatever help you
have to give, please, we need,it now.”

The Queen said,
“We shall discuss this in council. Our son has spoken at length
of the invaders from across the sea. They do not trouble us, but they
do patrol near our borders.

“Go now
and rest. We shall meet again in the morning.”

Calis and the
man in grey came down to stand before Subai. Calis shook hands with
the Captain. “It is good to see you,” said Calis.

The Pathfinder
said, “You can’t imagine how good it is to see you,
Calis. And I’m betting that Erik wishes you were back in
command of the Eagles.”

Calis said,
“This is Pahaman of Natal.”

The man in grey
put out his hand, and Subai said, “Our grandfathers were
brothers.”

“Our
grandfathers were brothers,” returned Pahaman.

Calis said, “An
odd greeting.”

Subai smiled.
“It’s a ritual. The Pathfinders and the Rangers of Natal
are of like spirit. Never in the conflicts between the Free Cities
and the Kingdom has a Ranger or Pathfinder spilled the other’s
blood.”

Pahaman said,
“In ancient times, when Kesh ruled, our ancestors were Imperial
Guides. When the Empire retreated, many who were left behind became
Rangers, and those who lived near Krondor founded the Pathfinders.
All are kin, Pathfinder, Ranger, and Guide.”

Calis said,
“Would that all men knew they were kin. Come, let us feed you,
Subai, and find you a place to sleep. While you dine, tell me what
you’ve seen.”

They departed.

Tomas turned to
his wife and said, “More than anytime since the Riftwar I fear
we may not be free of involvement.”

The Queen looked
at her eldest counselor and said, “Tathar?”

“We will
wait upon Calis’s return. After he has spoken to the human he
will tell us how grave is the risk.”

Prince Calin
said, “I will join my brother and listen, as well.”

The Queen
nodded, and the old warrior, Redtree, said, “What good would it
do for us to leave Elvandar? We are few in number and could not tip
the balance.”

Tomas said, “I
don’t think that will be the question.” He looked at his
wife and said, “The question becomes, should
I
depart
Elvandar?”

The Queen looked
at her husband and said nothing.

Twenty-Three - Decisions

The men walked
Softly.

Dash led his
detachment through the cellar, each man carrying a large billy club
and a dagger. The order was simple. If they resist, subdue them; if
they draw weapons, kill them.

All over the
city, raids were being conducted, by constables and members of
Patrick’s Royal Household Guard. Patrick would not permit the
sounding of the city’s alarm, and the only concession Dash
could wring from the Prince was the use of two hundred of his guards
for a coordinated raid.

Seven different
hideouts had been discovered, as well as three ships in the harbor.
The ships were being left to the Royal Navy, which had enough
presence in the area that the sudden boarding of the target ships
should be unexpected.

But Dash was
unhappy. He knew there were other agents in the city, and that a
significant portion of the caravan guards at the caravansary were
probably Keshian soldiers. The only comfort he drew from their going
uncaught was that they were outside the wall and would remain so. He
had established checkpoints at the gate, on the pretext of needing a
better census with the rebuilding of the city.

They had reached
a cellar in the northeastern portion of the city; the building was
still burned-out, but Dash knew the door to the cellar had been
restored. It had been scorched to look burned.

He had debated
the best way to approach this task with himself all day, and had
finally elected to take the shock approach.

The upper cellar
was deserted, but he knew the rear door led to a ramp down to the
lower cellar, the one which opened onto the sewers. He tested the
door handle and found it unlatched. Gently he lifted it and moved the
door open. He whispered to the men behind him, “All right,
silently until I say different.”

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