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Authors: Raymond Feist

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Dash removed his
sword from its scabbard and handed it to him. “Through there,”
he said, indicating another door.

Dash moved to
that door, and when it didn’t open, he tripped the latch.
Inside he found the Upright Man sitting at a table, a half-drunk
flagon of water next to him.

“Nephew,”
he said with dry humor. His voice was as raspy as Dash remembered.

“Uncle,”
said Dash with the same dry humor.

“Have you
news for me?”

Dash sighed. He
sat in the second chair at the table without being asked. “As
you can see, we were not in need of your help in taking the city.
Duko gave it willingly.”

“At no
small price, I hear,” said Lysle Riggers with a chuckle. “Duke
of the Southern Marches.”

“There’s
to be a general amnesty.”

The old man
studied his great-nephew and said, “I don’t hear the
‘but,’ though it is there.”

“It’s
to be applied only to those who fought against the Kingdom, as they
swear loyalty to the crown. It will also be extended to any man who
volunteers for service now.”

“But not
petty thieves such as the Mockers.”

“Only if
you join the army,” said Dash. “I tried. My father has no
need to be busying himself or his judges with accusations of crimes
before the war.” Dash shrugged. “Fact is, anyone likely
to bring complaint is no longer living here. When merchants return,
who is to say what was taken before the war and what was looted or
lost during the sacking of the city?”

Lysle chuckled.
“True. All true. However, there are those among our brethren
who have the death mark on them already, and who are known to your
father’s constables.”

Dash let out a
long sigh. “I know, but if they’ll serve the crown,
they’ll be pardoned for their crimes.”

“I’m
a little old to serve, don’t you think?” asked the
Upright Man.

Dash said, “I
don’t think there’s anyone besides myself, Jimmy, and
Father who has an inkling of who you might be. And while I’m
sure there is a very long list of crimes for which you might be hung,
why bother?” He looked at his great-uncle and said, “If
Grandfather didn’t want you taken, why should we?”

“Your
grandfather needed me alive to control the Mockers,” said
Lysle. “It may be some time before the Mockers are effective
enough to be in need of controlling again.” He let out a long,
tired sigh. “I most certainly will not be here to see it. And I
do not know if the next Upright Man, or whatever he calls himself,
will care to make deals with the crown.” He pointed a finger at
Dash. “You and your father are clever enough, but once I’m
gone, you’ll not be able to make demands of the Mockers the way
your grandfather made of me.”

Dash said, “I
know. If you have nothing more, I have a great deal to do.”

The Upright Man
waved him away. “We’re done, Dashel Jamison. From now on,
we are Mockers and you are the Prince’s man. If you come back
into the Poor Quarter after dark, you are as much at risk as any
other man.”

“I
understand,” said Dash. He returned to the door, then paused
and said, “But if there’s something I can do without
compromising my oath to the Kingdom, send me a message, will you?”

The old man
laughed. “I’ll consider it. Now go.”

Dash moved into
the second room and found John Turpin gone. His sword hung over the
butt end of a burned-out timber. He retrieved it and moved through
the next door. As he expected, Trina wasn’t in the outer part
of the building either. He left the devastation of the inn and moved
away. He paused a moment and tried to remember the name of that
particular inn, then it came to him. It had been called the Rainbow
Parrot, and it had once been owned by a friend of his grandfather’s,
a man named Lucas. Caught up for a moment in reflection on old
stories of his grandfather, Dash almost didn’t hear the
footsteps behind him.

He spun and had
his sword out before the man came within a half-dozen paces. The man
coming at him was dressed like a rag picker and was thin and dirty.
He came to a halt and, putting up his hands, backed away, then turned
and ran.

Dash put up his
sword and considered that it would be a long time before Krondor was
what it once had been. Then as he left to return to the palace, he
considered the Poor Quarter was probably safer now than it had been
before the war.

Dash reached the
palace and was again astonished by the amount of work going on; there
must have been a hundred masons at work, most of whom had been
soldiers serving in Duko’s army before the war. But they were
making progress in getting the palace repaired. Other workers washed
soot from walls, hauling away rubbish and debris, even hanging
screens and other decorative touches in some of the larger rooms on
the main floor. Entering the hallway, he saw Jimmy hurrying toward
him. “There you are!” said Jimmy.

“What is
it?”

“We’ve
got troubles,” said Jimmy, turning to walk beside Dash toward
the Prince’s private office suite, now being used by Duko.

“Has
Fadawah discovered what we’re up to?”

“Worse,”
said Jimmy.

“What?”

“Land’s
End was overrun by a Keshian company.”

“Oh,
gods.”

“Yes,”
said Jimmy as they turned the corner and climbed stairs up toward
Duko’s offices. “And there are other reports coming in.
It looks like Kesh has decided to punctuate her demands for
concessions with a little show of force.”

“Just what
we need,” said Dash.

Jimmy moved
toward the door to Duko’s office, knocked once, and opened the
door without waiting to be bid enter. A clerk holding a large sheaf
of papers, warned by the knock, jumped nimbly out of the way as the
door opened.

The two brothers
entered and found a half-dozen clerks and scribes writing orders and
dispatchs. They made their way through the press of court officers
and entered Duko’s inner office. Dash was once again struck by
the difference between his office when it was occupied by the Prince
and his father, and as it was now, with Duko sitting behind the desk.
Before it was the administrative center of the Western Realm, now it
was the headquarters of a military organization.

Dash and Jimmy
now recognized most of Duko’s remaining Captains, and all the
Kingdom officers who now served. Wendell, a cavalry captain formerly
of the garrison at Hawk’s Hollow, now officially the
Knight-Captain of the Royal Krondorian Horse, looked at a map and
said, “I can have four hundred more men down there by the day
after tomorrow, Your Grace.”

Some of Duko’s
Captains glanced at one another; they were still having some problem
with the protocols of the Kingdom and found the new title oddly
unnerving.

Duko looked at
Jimmy and Dash. “You two. You’re familiar with this area,
aren’t you?”

Jimmy said,
“We’ve spent the last few years here, Your Grace.”

It suddenly
struck Dash that the majority of the Krondorian garrison perished in
the destruction of the city; the remaining fragments of the garrison
were now serving to the east with Owen Grey lock. Owen wasn’t
due in the city for another five days, just before the time selected
to launch the offensive northward.

Duko pointed at
the map. “We’ve got two or three hundred soldiers
assaulting our position in Land’s End. By this morning’s
dispatch, they’re holding there, but hard-pressed. They may
already have fallen. The five hundred foot soldiers I sent earlier
this week won’t get there for another five days, even if I send
a galloper to order a forced march. We also have reports of some
ships sailing along the coast toward Land’s End, possibly in
support of the assault.”

Jimmy said,
“That makes sense. If they bring up a large force across the
Jal-Pur, they have logistics problems. But if they shock us with a
smaller force, holding our men inside the citadel, while they land
more troops by sea, they can quickly surround and siege.”

“Who’s
in charge down in Port Vykor?” asked Duko.

“Admiral
Reeves,” supplied one of the Kingdom officers.

“Send him
orders to intercept those ships and drive them off. I don’t
care if he sinks or captures them, just keep them from landing those
men.” The officer saluted and hurried to the outer office. Duko
looked at Wendell. “Take your four hundred horse and leave at
once. As soon as you overtake those foot soldiers, tell them to run.”
Captain Wendell saluted. Duko turned to one of his old captains and
said, “Runcor, I want you to take a hundred or so of your best
mother-killers and follow the coastline down to Land’s End. If
you see anyone coming ashore, kill them.”

The old Captain
said, “Yes, Duko . . . er, Your Grace.”

Duko smiled and
said, “Get out of here.”

Duko looked at
Jimmy and Dash. “Until your Lord Greylock gets here, I’m
assuming command. I’ll need your help, young sirs, as I am not
all that familiar with this outlying area.”

He pointed to a
spot on the map. “But I’m guessing that if this Empire to
the south is serious, here is where we will see their next push.”
His finger was on a small hill pass halfway between Shamata and
Land’s End. “It’s a long run, but it’s
relatively flat land. If they only seek to put pressure on the
negotiations in Darkmoor, then they’ll withdraw at the first
show of strength. If they are seeking to get into a serious fight,
they’ll launch a second assault through here about the time
they land their ships at Land’s End.” Looking at another
of his old captains, he said, “Jallom, get scouts down to that
pass as fast as possible. I don’t even know if we have any
soldiers there.”

“We
don’t,” said the Captain named Jallom. “We assumed
the Kingdom would take care of their southern flank and we wouldn’t
have to worry.”

“Well,
we’re now the Kingdom, and we need to worry. And send word to
Greylock about what is going on and ask him if he might consider
sending troops that way if they can get there first.”

Men hurried to
carry out orders, and Duko said, “Gentlemen, we have a war on
our hands. It’s just not the one we wanted, and we don’t
know how big it is. It may be a little one, but if I were the Keshian
General and I found out just how chaotic things were here, I might
try to get into Krondor before Greylock, and then dare him to come
dig me out with Nordan on his northern flank.” Duko shook his
head. “Let’s hope that kicking them out of Land’s
End will teach them the error of their ways.”

Jimmy looked at
Dash and they both shared the same thought: What else could go wrong?

Twelve - Gamble

Arutha pointed.

Captain Subai
motioned and the man behind him signaled. Another man pointed and
nodded. He then started searching in the indicated area. The progress
over the mountains had been slow, as the men on foot could cover only
between ten and fifteen miles a day. But they were now in sight of
the base of the mountain atop which perched the former Abbey of
Sarth.

Three scouts
were moving along the difficult trail, moving up tiny gullies worn by
rainwater, small game tracks, anything that might lead to the
entrance. They were looking for a large extrusion of rock that
overlapped the face of the mountain, yet behind which was a long
narrow passage, leading to the entrance to the tunnel under the
abbey. Arutha remembered his father telling him that unless you were
looking right at the entrance, end-on to the extrusion, you would
only see what looked like mountainside.

They had been
searching for days and had twice almost come into contact with
Nordan’s patrols. Only the fact that Arutha and Dominic were
accompanied by the best woodsmen and trail scouts in the Kingdom kept
them undetected. There were only six of them in this party. The one
hundred and twenty Pathfinders and Crimson Eagles who were given the
responsibility for taking the abbey waited miles away, in a tiny
valley, just beyond the range of invader patrols.

Arutha took a
drink of water from the skin he carried. The summer heat was
oppressive, yet they could not tarry. His father had mentioned
several other landmarks, but nothing in the area remotely looked like
those features. The large oak may have burned in a fire, or been
harvested for lumber. The three rocks piled one atop the other may
have fallen, due to rain or an earthquake. After all, it had been
over fifty years ago. Then a whistle alerted Arutha that someone had
found something. He hurried to where Subai stood and saw a man below
the Captain. He had jumped down into a depression where all but his
head was hidden by brush; he would be invisible from the trail.
Arutha glanced around and his eyes caught sight of a large oak tree,
masked by other, younger trees, but directly opposite his position.
He turned and saw a large boulder, the size of a wagon, and at the
base were two others—instantly he knew. “We’ve
found it!” he said quietly to Subai.

Arutha motioned
to where Dominic stood and jumped down to stand behind the soldier.
“There’s something on the other side of this brush, Your
Grace,” said the soldier.

Without saying
anything, Arutha took out his sword and started hacking away the
brush. The soldier hesitated a moment, then pulled out his own. By
the time Dominic arrived, they had cleared away a significant portion
of the undergrowth. Behind the cleared brush was a passage. Arutha
knew it was the place his father had described, because from end-on,
it did indeed look like a hallway, between the face of the cliff and
a wall of rock. To Captain Subai, he said, “Wait here until
Dominic and I find the entrance.”

The cleric and
the Duke entered the narrow passage, which ran a full hundred yards
along the face of the mountain. At the end, to their left, a cave
large enough for one man to enter could be seen. Arutha said, “If
this was discovered, it is as easy to defend as the access above.”

BOOK: Shards of a Broken Crown
10.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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