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Authors: David Weber

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BOOK: Off Armageddon Reef
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“We'll be able to rifle the barrels of existing muskets a lot faster than we could build them as rifles from scratch,” he pointed out. “If we hold the new bullets ‘in reserve,' as you put it, we can take advantage of the superior rate of fire and the new bayonets immediately and
still
have a decisive advantage up our sleeves once other people begin duplicating flintlock muskets. And all the smoothbores we've built in the meantime will be available for rifling when the time comes.”

“But even that's going to be a fairly fleeting advantage, Your Highness,” Lock Island pointed out.

“Oh, I know that.” Cayleb nodded again. “I'm not saying I'm wedded to the concept of delaying the introduction of the rifles. I'm simply saying that I think it's something we need to consider. Either way, Major Clareyk needs to go ahead developing tactics for both the smoothbores and the rifles, of course.”

“You're certainly correct about that, Your Highness,” Lock Island said a bit grimly. Cayleb cocked his head, and the high admiral snorted. “Your Highness, dealing with Nahrmahn, and probably Hektor, isn't going to be the end of this, you know. In fact, it's only going to be the beginning. So whether we introduce the rifles immediately or not, we're going to need them soon. Probably
very
soon.”

.V.
Royal Palace, Eraystor

Prince Nahrmahn sat back in his chair, resting his forearms on the carved wooden armrests, and watched without expression as an extraordinarily ordinary-looking man followed Baron Shandyr and Trahvys Ohlsyn, the Earl of Pine Hollow, into the meeting chamber of his Privy Council.

The bodyguards outside the meeting-chamber door braced to attention as Nahrmahn's first councillor and spymaster walked past them; the two guardsmen standing behind Nahrmahn's chair did not.

“So,” the prince said as the door closed behind the new arrivals. “I understand you have some fresh report for me?”

His tone wasn't encouraging. Not that any of them were surprised.

“We do, My Prince,” Pine Hollow said, speaking to his cousin rather more formally than was his wont. “And, no,” he continued, in a drier tone “it's not news you're really going to want to hear.”

Something almost like a smile flickered at the corner of Nahrmahn's mouth, and Shandyr allowed himself a feeling of cautious relief. The prince's mood had been…difficult ever since the first intimations of the disaster Shandyr's organization in Charis had suffered. Pine Hollow understood that, and the baron was grateful to the first councillor for his willingness to help divert the brunt of Nahrmahn's displeasure from Shandyr's own shoulders. The fact that Trahvys Ohlsyn was probably the one man on Safehold whom Nahrmahn unreservedly trusted didn't hurt a thing, either.

“Well, that certainly has the virtue of frankness,” the prince said after a moment. Then the almost-smile, if that was what it had been, vanished, and he switched his gaze to Shandyr.

“You may as well go ahead and tell me,” he half-growled.

“Yes, My Prince.” Shandyr bowed and indicated the man who'd accompanied him and Pine Hollow. “My Prince, this is Marhys Wyllyms.” Nahrmahn's eyes narrowed slightly, and the baron nodded. “Yes, My Prince. Master Wyllyms has finally managed to reach home.”

“So I see.”

Nahrmahn regarded Wyllyms thoughtfully as the man went to one knee and bent his head. The prince let him kneel there for several seconds, then waved one hand.

“Rise, Master Wyllyms,” he said, and waited until Wyllyms had obeyed the command. Then he cocked his head to one side and pursed his lips. “I'm relieved to see you,” he continued, “if not exactly delighted by the fact that you're here. I trust you can give us some firsthand information as to exactly what went wrong?”

“I'll do my best, Your Highness,” Wyllyms replied respectfully. “All the same, Sire, please remember that I've been trying to find my way home without being taken by Wave Thunder's agents for over two months. The information I have is certainly out of date by now.”

“That's understood,” Nahrmahn said brusquely. “Just tell us what you
do
know.”

“Well, Your Highness, as I've already reported to Baron Shandyr, I'm not at all sure what originally caused them to suspect the Duke. When Gray Harbor came to the townhouse, he and the Duke met privately in the library, and I was unable to overhear any of their discussion. I do know the Duke had ordered fifteen of his guardsmen to stand ready for his summons outside the library, though, because I personally took his note to his Guard captain. After he and Gray Harbor had been alone in the library, except for Gray Harbor's personal guardsman, for perhaps fifteen minutes, I heard the bell ring and his men entered the library.”

Wyllyms paused for a moment, then shook his head with the expression of a man who wasn't certain his next few words were going to be believed.

“Your Highness, I knew the quality of the guardsmen the Duke had summoned, and I personally ushered Earl Gray Harbor into the library. After handing the Duke's note to Captain Zhahnsyn, I took it upon myself to deliver brandy to the library, as well, in order to pick up whatever information I could. At that time, the Duke, the Earl, and the Earl's guardsman were the only ones in the room, and although I wasn't supposed to know it, I also knew that the Earl's guardsman had been placed in his service years earlier by the Duke himself. Knowing all of that, I felt confident the Duke's men would easily take Gray Harbor into custody, if that was what he intended. What might have happened then was more than I could begin to predict, although I suspect the Duke was prepared to act upon the contingency plans for a coup he'd made long ago. I can't believe he might have had anything else in mind after ordering his men to seize the Kingdom's first councillor, at any rate!

“But what did happen was that I heard the sound of fighting from inside the library.
Lots
of fighting, Your Highness. It couldn't have lasted more than a very few minutes, but there shouldn't have been
any
, not with Gray Harbor alone against what amounted to sixteen of the Duke's men.

“With the lateness of the hour, there'd been very few other servants in that wing of the house when Gray Harbor arrived. Those who had been present had been sent away by Captain Zhahnsyn, presumably on the Duke's orders to avoid any unfortunate witnesses. So, what with the noise of the storm and all, I doubted anyone else had heard the fighting.

“I didn't know what was happening, myself, but from the sound of things, they weren't going the way the Duke had planned. So I positioned myself behind a door to one of the servants' passages from which I could watch the library door. If the Duke's men had prevailed, I was certain he'd come out of the library soon. He didn't. Instead, the library door opened, and a man I'd never seen before stepped out of it.”

“A man you'd never
seen
before?” Nahrmahn repeated, leaning forward in his chair with a frown of confusion.

“Exactly, Your Highness.” Wyllyms nodded as if for emphasis. “I knew exactly who was in the library—or I'd thought I did, at least. I suppose it's possible someone else could have arrived while I was taking the Duke's note to Captain Zhahnsyn, but he would have had to somehow enter the townhouse and find his way to the library without any of the other servants seeing him. Besides,
I
should have seen him when I served the brandy, and I didn't. Yet, there he was.”

“What sort of man?” Nahrmahn asked intently. Baron Shandyr was cautiously pleased by the prince's expression. It was certainly better than the sour, half-accusatory glowers which had been coming the spymaster's way of late.

“Apparently an officer of the Royal Guard, Your Highness.”

“The
Royal Guard?

“Yes, Your Highness. He wore the Guard's livery, with a lieutenant's insignia.”

“You say he came out of the library?” Nahrmahn asked, and Wyllyms nodded. “What did he do then?”

“He called for a servant, Your Highness. So I opened the door and went to him.”

Nahrmahn's eyes widened ever so slightly, and he sat back once more.

“You went to him,” he repeated, an edge of respect in his voice, and Wyllyms shrugged.

“I was a servant, Your Highness, and it was a servant he was calling for. It seemed unlikely he intended to arrest or attack whoever responded, and it was my best—possibly my only—opportunity to find out what had happened.”

“And what
had
happened?” Nahrmahn pressed.

“At the time, Your Highness, I didn't really know. The stranger had pulled the library door mostly closed behind him, and I could see little. What I did see, however, was a great deal of blood and at least two bodies, both in the Duke's colors. As nearly as I could tell, every one of the Duke's men had been killed.”


All
of them?”

“That was my impression then, Your Highness, and the rumors I managed to collect on my way north all agree that they were.”

Nahrmahn looked at Shandyr and his cousin for a moment, then back at Wyllyms.

“What happened then?”

“The Guardsman ordered me to summon a section of the Royal Guard, with an officer, from the Palace on Earl Gray Harbor's authority. I was to take the summons personally and directly, to return with the Guardsmen, and to have no discussion with anyone else along the way. I said I would, of course, and hurried off. As soon as I found one of the Duke's under-footmen, I passed the same instructions to him and left the townhouse.”

“And?”

“And, Your Highness”—for the first-time Wyllyms' voice and body language showed a hint of trepidation—“because I had no way of knowing what might have passed between the duke and the Earl, or if the Duke had been taken alive, I executed my contingency instructions from Baron Shandyr. I went to Braidee Lahang's quarters and killed him.”

Nahrmahn sat very still for a moment, long enough for the apparently unflappable Wyllyms to begin sweating, then nodded.

“That was well done, Master Wyllyms,” the prince said. “Indeed, it sounds as if you did very well that evening.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Wyllyms' taut shoulders relaxed perceptibly, and Nahrmahn smiled slightly.

“But returning to this ‘stranger' in the library,” he continued, smile fading into a faint frown of concentration. “You have no idea how he came to be there?”

“None, Your Highness.” Wyllyms shook his head.

“Do you have any idea who he was?”

“According to the gossip I managed to pick up while making my way out of Tellesberg, it was the same man who broke up the attempt to assassinate Crown Prince Cayleb, Your Highness,” Wyllyms said. “The most persistent rumor was that this man—a ‘Merlin,' or something of the sort—had been given a commission in the Royal Guard as a reward for saving the Prince's life.”

Nahrmahn's upper lip curled in what no one could ever have mistaken for a smile.

“It would appear we have a great deal to thank this…‘Merlin' for,” he said softly.

“Yes, My Prince,” Shandyr said, inserting himself into the interview. Nahrmahn's eyes moved to him, and he shrugged. “The most interesting thing to me, in many respects, My Prince, is that according to the reports we've received so far from Tellesberg, this Merlin
accompanied
Gray Harbor to the Duke's townhouse. Master Wyllyms' information is the first firsthand account we've received, and the damage Wave Thunder's done to Lahang's network means we're unlikely to get any more reports like it. But my people here in Emerald have been pumping every ship's company from Charis for information. And while there's a great deal of confusion and obvious nonsense in most of what we've been able to ferret out, there seems to be general agreement that the official story is that Gray Harbor took ‘Merlin' with him when he went to call upon the Duke.”

“Which he obviously didn't, if Master Wyllyms didn't see him arrive,” Nahrmahn said thoughtfully.

“Your Highness,” Wyllyms put in diffidently, “as I say, I didn't see him arrive, and he wasn't present when I delivered the brandy. I didn't personally take the instructions to Gray Harbor's coachmen to take the Earl's carriage and horses to the stable, though; I sent the word via one of the under-footmen. So it's possible he was with the carriage at that time, and somehow managed to enter the library in the interval between my delivery of the brandy and Zhahnsyn's arrival.”

“But from your tone, you don't think it was likely,” Nahrmahn observed.

“No, Your Highness, I don't. It's
possible
, however. I didn't waste any time talking to any of the other servants when I left. It may be that one of them admitted this ‘Merlin' and he somehow got past me to the library without my seeing him. But I don't think that's what happened.”

“Then how
did
he get there?”

“Your Highness, I don't know. All I can say is that I never saw him, and that there were rumors in Tellesberg that this ‘Merlin' is some sort of
seijin
.”

“Lahang reported the same rumor in his message immediately after the assassination attempt, My Prince,” Shandyr reminded Nahrmahn, and the rotund prince nodded.

“But why should they put it about that he accompanied Gray Harbor if, in fact, he didn't?” Pine Hollow put in, his expression perplexed.

“A moment, Trahvys,” Nahrmahn said, raising one hand, and looked back at Wyllyms.

“Have you anything else to report, Master Wyllyms?”

“Not about events in Tellesberg, Your Highness.” Wyllyms bowed once more. “I'm still working on my report to Baron Shandyr concerning my journey to Eraystor and what I saw and heard along the way, but I believe that's all I can tell you about what happened in the capital.”

“Then I thank you, both for your service and for your information. I'm sure Baron Shandyr will have many more tasks for a man of your proven capabilities. In the meantime, I assure you that you'll soon receive a more substantial token of my appreciation.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Wyllyms murmured.

“Leave us now, if you please, Master Wyllyms.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Wyllyms bowed yet again and retired, walking backward out of Nahrmahn's presence as protocol required.

“Wait for me in the antechamber, Wyllyms,” Shandyr said quietly, and Wyllyms nodded as he stepped through the door and it closed behind him.

“Now, Trahvys,” Nahrmahn said to his cousin. “You were saying?”

“I was just wondering why Haarahld and Wave Thunder should be telling everyone this ‘Merlin' character went to Tirian's townhouse with Gray Harbor if that's not what really happened?”

“I don't know,” Nahrmahn conceded, and looked at Shandyr. “Hahl?”

“All any of us can do at this point is guess, My Prince,” the baron said. “At first glance, I can't really see a reason for them to do so. Unless…”

“Unless what?” Nahrmahn prompted.

“My Prince,” Shandyr said slowly, “this isn't the first time we've heard someone claim this man is a
seijin
.”

BOOK: Off Armageddon Reef
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