Jimmy and the Crawler (12 page)

W
ILLIAM SANK DOWN IN THE DOORWAY
.

He had left the Jade Monkey and tried as best he could to determine where Jazhara had been taken. After nearly an hour of wandering the dark streets in a cloak he had purloined from an unconscious drunk outside an inn, he had reached the point of despair. He had no clue as to where James was, nor to whom to turn. The city watch was corrupt beyond imagining and James carried the gold for the party. They would refuse to lift a finger to help without a significant bribe.

He thought of going to the governor, but like James, distrusted the man and thought he might even be party to the assault. His mind raced but he couldn’t come up with a coherent thought, let alone a plan.

He was now opposite the entrance to the Jade Monkey, crouched in a doorway in the pre-dawn gloom, not trusting it to be safe to re-enter. His attackers might have returned. So, lacking a better plan, he decided to wait until sunrise before entering, and perhaps until he saw James return, if he also wasn’t abducted.

He was wondering if, once the sun was up, perhaps he might return to the rooftop behind the inn to see if there was any sign of James, then thought it likely the body of the man who died up there had been found. The city watch might be corrupt, but that wouldn’t prevent them from arresting him for that man’s death, should he be found anywhere near him.

What to do? William was a soldier, and if Knight-Marshal Gardan was to be taken at his word, on his way to being a fine leader of men. But he was not cut out for this skulking and plotting and creeping through dark alleys and sewers. When he was with James, he felt equal to anything, but on his own he felt a fish out of water.

He saw a boy hurrying down the street, looking around as if not wanting to be seen; then he dodged into the entrance of the Jade Monkey. That piqued William’s interest.

He moved out of the shadows and glanced around. The pre-dawn was quickly lighting the street enough for him not to fear unanticipated attack, and he knew that within minutes the usual traffic of those starting their day’s business would be in full flow.

He walked to the entrance and saw the boy speaking with Gina. He saw no one else in the commons, so he entered and threw back his hood.

‘William!’ she exclaimed. ‘You’re alive!’

‘James?’

‘I haven’t seen him.’

He saw that she had a large wet cloth pressed against the back of her head. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked her.

‘I’ve had worse,’ she said, ‘but it’s going to take a bit of time to fix things upstairs. The three thugs who came looking for you tore the place up.’

‘Did you see them?’

‘Didn’t really see anything,’ she said, wincing. ‘I was vaguely aware of three men walking in, one came to the bar as if to ask me something, I turned, and the next thing I remember is waking up behind the bar with a throbbing head and a drunk next to me.’

‘Are you Sir William?’ the boy asked.

William sized him up. No more than ten or eleven years old, he was wearing a ragged tunic soon to be too small as he was growing: his trousers were cut off below the knees. He was barefoot, with unkempt dark hair, brown eyes, and uncertain skin colour under all that dirt, though William suspected it was lightish brown. ‘Who are you?’ he asked.

The boy didn’t give him a name but merely said, ‘I am one seeking you and the Lady Jazhara.’

‘I am seeking her as well,’ said William.

‘Is the lady not with you?’

‘No,’ said William in disgust. He felt it a personal failure that Jazhara had been taken, and his fear of losing her kept rising up to send him into uncharacteristic panic.

‘Then you alone must come, sir!’ said the boy.

‘Come where?’

‘Brother Eli, a monk of Ban-ath, he seeks you out.’

Gina and William glanced at one another and almost simultaneously said, ‘Ban-ath?’

‘That means James,’ William said.

‘I’ll be here should she return,’ said Gina.

William thought it best not to correct her presumption that Jazhara was out somewhere without him, rather than mention her abduction. He wasn’t sure why, but he thought it best that people in Durbin didn’t know the daughter of one of the more important nobles in the Empire had been captured. He would wait until James decided what to do. James was the more senior member of the prince’s court, and William knew his own judgement at this moment was entirely untrustworthy.

‘Lead on,’ said William to the boy.

As the morning markets opened and the stalls and shops were unshuttered, the boy half-walked, half-ran through the thickening crowd, with William following close behind. While it was not a sprawling city like Krondor, Durbin was densely packed once the sun rose, and soon they were both forced to slow their progress.

In less than a half-hour they reached the hovel behind the run-down shrine and found the monk sitting beside a sleeping James. William rushed over as the monk rose to greet him but before he could speak, William gripped James’s shoulder.

With a grunt of pain James sat up, his dagger in his hand. Only a last-minute recognition kept him from slicing William’s throat.

‘Don’t ever do that again, Willy.’

‘What?’ asked William, taken aback.

‘He dislocated his left shoulder and you just grabbed it,’ Brother Eli supplied helpfully.

‘Oh, sorry,’ said William.

‘Brother Eli,’ said the monk, introducing himself. ‘A servant of Ban-ath.’

‘William of Krondor, Knight-Lieutenant in the prince’s palace guard.’ To James he said, ‘They’ve taken Jazhara!’

James stared at him. ‘Who is “they”?’

‘I don’t know. We heard a crash in your room. By the time I opened your door, the window had been broken outward and when I went to look, someone seized her from behind. Another man attacked me and I broke his neck—’

‘Good,’ said James.

‘—and when I gathered my wits I went back inside and found Gina unconscious. I searched for Jazhara, but found no trace of her.’

‘I know where she is,’ said James with certainty.

‘Where?’

‘At the governor’s palace.’

‘Are you certain?’

‘Yes.’

‘What do we do?’

James was silent for a moment, then said, ‘I’ve sent a message to Jazhara’s kinsmen at the oasis at Bal-Shala telling them she’s been taken and to come to Durbin with all haste. But it will take another five or six days to get them here.’

William’s eyes widened. ‘But they are not at Bal-Shala.’

‘Where are they?’ asked James, rising from the cot.

‘They’re already en route from Bal-Shala. When we camped at the wadi, Jazhara sent along one of the Izmalis to her uncle’s people, asking them to come to Durbin. She expected we’d find the governor somehow mixed up in this mess.’

‘How long ago was this?’

‘She dispatched him the day we arrived. The Hazara-Khan retinue should be here tomorrow morning, evening at the latest.’

‘I don’t think we have that much time,’ said James. ‘They took Jazhara either because she makes a good bargaining token with Lord Hazara-Khan, or because she’s a magic-user and of particular danger to them. If it’s the first, she’ll be safe for the time being, but if it’s the second . . .’ James left unsaid that in the second case she’d be dead already. He saw the concern in William’s face and said, ‘I think they’re making her a hostage. Else why abduct her instead of slipping a dagger in her back?’

William nodded.

‘If I had those Izmalis here instead of with her uncle’s people—’

‘They’re not with her family,’ said William. ‘They’re still at the wadi. Jazhara decided having them close at hand might prove useful.’

James was suddenly animated. ‘If you weren’t in love with that woman, I would be!’ He fell silent for a moment, calculating. ‘If you ride now, how soon can you be back with them?’

‘If I take two horses, a little after sunset, I should think,’ answered William.

‘Leave now.’ James pulled out his purse. He tossed it to William and said, ‘I’ll get into the palace and see if I can keep her safe until you arrive. Stop here first, and if I have her, we’ll be in this room. If I don’t, come to the palace as fast as you can. Don’t be polite. Just kick down the door and come in and find us.’

William didn’t need to be urged to take action; he grabbed the purse out of the air, turned and ran towards the nearest stable, nearly knocking over half a dozen people.

James flexed his injured shoulder, stretching away stiffness.

‘How do you plan to get inside?’ asked Brother Eli.

James looked at him with raised eyebrows, but said nothing.

After a moment, Brother Eli smiled. ‘Stupid question.’

Breaking into a guarded building was nothing new for James. It was more problematic breaking into one in daylight, but while it was a rare occurrence, it was also nothing new. Breaking into one guarded by men who might be Nighthawks had but one precedent, one he’d rather forget, for it had almost cost him his life.

James had spent an hour reacquainting himself with the environs of the governor’s palace. He had explored it several times while watching for the emergence of Nighthawks and just wanted one more look before committing himself to going in. He worried about Jazhara’s safety, but prudence dictated a studied approach: he wouldn’t do her much good dead.

Now he was walking through the heart of the city, blending in as best he could while he pondered. Another concern nagged at him: there seemed to have been two groups of Nighthawks, or rather a band of real Nighthawks and a group of false ones when he had been dealing with the Crawler’s agents in Krondor. Puzzling over the apparent desire on the part of the Crawler to cast blame on the Nighthawks for his agents’ handiwork, Jimmy decided the likelihood was that the men in black he had seen riding out from the governor’s palace were not true assassins.

Which didn’t make them any less a murdering bunch of thugs. But there was less of a chance of reprisals from the Nighthawks if he put paid to them. At least, James hoped so. Then he mentally corrected himself: there was no true Crawler. Still, he thought, even though the crime lord was a fiction, it was a fiction created by the governor or someone high up in his palace, so for the sake of keeping his thoughts in order, he assigned the label ‘Crawler’ to whoever that might be.

Now urgency was starting to outweigh caution. From what he had noted when he had visited the palace, he judged the most likely access to where Jazhara was being kept would be the stables nearest the gate from which the four black riders had emerged. There, or somewhere nearby.

His logic was based on two factors: for everyone in the governor’s palace to be part of some dark plot was unlikely – too many servants and minor officials were in and out of there every day, as well as merchants, vendors, carters, wagon drivers, and errand boys – and wherever the black riders and Jazhara were, it would be somewhere most servants and none of the nobility and functionaries would wander: the stables.

James had two avenues of approach: either through the main gate which, given the daily traffic in and out of the palace, wouldn’t prove difficult; or over the wall. The problem was, either choice had drawbacks.

He weighed his options and finally devised a plan. His delight at his own ingenuity made him almost forget Jazhara’s plight for a moment, but only for a moment. Ignoring his sore shoulder and itching back, he hurried off into the city.

Two hours later a rider garbed in expensive robes leading a magnificent stallion approached the entrance to the governor’s stables. He dismounted and banged loudly on the gate.

It had taken James nearly half an hour of haggling with Jacob the moneylender to get his hands on the sum sufficient to buy the best horse in Durbin. He had basically been forced to promise Jacob he could safely return to Krondor once James returned, and that he would protect him from the Mockers. By the time James left with the money, he was surprised Jacob hadn’t asked for a parade down the central boulevard of the city to the prince’s palace, with a royal reception and lunch thrown in for good measure.

After James had banged on the gate a few more times, the viewing plate slid aside and a face peered at him. ‘What do you want?’ demanded the servant.

‘I bring the governor’s new horse.’

‘New horse? I know of none such.’

‘Are you the governor?’ asked James in as condescending a tone as he could muster. He spoke passable Keshian but was affecting an odd accent just to add to the confusion.

‘No—’

‘Then open the bloody gate and take this fractious creature to the stable! I merely carry out my master’s orders.’

There was a moment of deliberation, then the peek-through slid shut and another moment passed, and then the gate opened. James led both horses through and handed the reins of the stallion to the servant. As soon as the stallion felt unsure hands on the reins, he began to pull away and the servant nearly lost his grip.

‘By the gods, you fool!’ shouted James, raising the level of noise and excitement. ‘Don’t let go, else you’ll be chasing him through the city for days!’ He reached out and took the reins, then handed his own horse’s reins to the servant. ‘Show me to the stable and I’ll put him in a stall.’

The servant, now very flustered, nodded and said, ‘This way.’

James watched as the man awkwardly shut the gate behind him while holding on to James’s mount. He was so distracted he hadn’t thought to hand the reins back to James while he did it.

Good, thought James. He wanted the man to be so preoccupied with what was taking place that he wouldn’t notice who James was. If all went according to plan, James would have Jazhara out of there and safely hidden somewhere by the time William and the Izmalis returned. Then they’d wait for her family and put right this mess in the governor’s household. But while he wanted all this done, he didn’t want too many people taking a good look at him, certainly not when he was clearly the prince’s man in Durbin, for he intended to return here, build up what he had started at the Jade Monkey and move on, into the Empire, constructing a network that his sons – should he have any – and his grandsons – if he had any of those – would continue to use in service to the Kingdom.