A Darkness at Sethanon (7 page)

Jimmy noticed
Arutha didn’t seem troubled by that fact alone. It seemed to
Jimmy the Prince wouldn’t mind an open confrontation. No, Jimmy
knew what bothered him was his concern for the safety of others.
“That goes without saying. But chances are excellent they’re
coming after you tonight anyway. The palace is crawling with
strangers.” Jimmy looked out the window at the late afternoon
sunset. “It’s almost seven hours after noon. If I were
planning an attack on you, I’d wait about another two or three
hours, just when the celebration is at its height. Performers and
guests will be going in and out of the gates. Everyone will be
half-drunk, tired from a daylong celebration, and feeling very
relaxed. But I wouldn’t wait much after that or your guards
might notice a late arriving guest entering the grounds. If you stay
alert you should be safe enough while I snoop around. I’ll
report back as soon as I have a hint.”

Arutha indicated
permission for Jimmy to withdraw. Quickly Trevor Hull and his first
mate followed, leaving a troubled, seething Prince alone with his
thoughts. Arutha sat back, balled fist held before his mouth as his
eyes stared off into nothing.

He had faced the
minions of Murmandamus near the Black Lake, Moraelin, but the final
contest was yet to come. Arutha cursed himself for becoming
complacent over the last year. When he had first returned with
Silverthorn, the key to saving Anita from the effects of the
Nighthawks’ poison, he had been nearly ready to return at once
to the north. But the affairs of court, his own marriage, the trip to
Rillanon to attend his brother’s wedding to Queen Magda, then
Lord Caldric’s funeral, the birth of his sons, all these had
come and gone without his attending to the business north of the
Kingdom. Beyond the great ranges lay the Northlands. There lay the
seat of his enemy’s power. There Murmandamus marshalled his
forces. And from that seat far to the north he was reaching down
again to touch the life of the Prince of Krondor, the Lord of the
West, the man fated by prophecy to be his undoing, the Bane of
Darkness. Should he live. And again Arutha found himself struggling
within the confines of his own demesne, the battle carried to his own
door. Striking his palm with his fist, Arutha voiced a low, harsh
curse. To himself and whatever gods listened, he vowed that when this
business in Krondor was finished, he, Arutha conDoin, would carry the
struggle northward to Murmandamus.

The darkness hid
a thousand treasures amid a million pieces of worthless garbage. The
waters in the sewers flowed slowly, and often large clumps of debris
would gather in a jam called a tof. The tofsmen who picked over such
floating refuse earned their living gleaning valuables lost into the
sewers. They also kept the refuse flowing by breaking up the jams of
garbage that threatened to back up the sewers. Little of this
concerned Jimmy, save that a tofsman was standing less than twenty
feet away.

The young squire
had dressed all in black, save for his old, comfortable boots. He had
even purloined an executioner’s black hood from the torture
chamber. Beneath the black he wore more simple garb, needed to blend
into the Poor Quarter. The tofsman looked directly at the boy several
times, but for all his peering, Jimmy did not exist.

For the better
part of half an hour, Jimmy had stood motionless in the deep shadows
of an intersection, while the old tofsman picked over the smelly mess
passing by. Jimmy hoped this wasn’t the man’s chosen
location to work, otherwise he could be there for hours. Jimmy even
more fervently hoped the tofsman was real and not a disguised
Nighthawk lookout.

Finally the man
wandered off, and Jimmy relaxed, though he did not move until the
tofsman had had ample time to vanish down a side tunnel. Then, with
stealth bordering on the unnatural, Jimmy crept along the tunnel
toward the area below the heart of Fish Town.

Down a series of
tunnels he travelled silently. Even as he stepped into water, he
managed to disturb it only slightly. The gifts of nature -
lightning-fast reflexes, astonishing coordination, and the ability to
make decisions, to react nearly instantaneously - had been augmented
by training from the Mockers and forged in the harshest furnace: the
daily life of a working thief. Jimmy made each move as if his life
depended upon remaining undetected, for it did.

Down the dark
conduits of the sewers he journeyed, his senses extended into the
darkness. He knew how to ignore the faint sounds coming down from the
streets above and how the slight echoes, of rippling water rebounding
from the stonework should sound; the slightest variation would warn
of anyone lurking out of view. The noisome air of the sewer masked
any potentially warning odours, but the air was almost motionless, so
he would have a betraying hint of movement close by should anyone
suddenly come at him.

A sudden shift
in the air, and Jimmy froze. Something had changed, and the boy
immediately shrank down into the sheltering darkness of a low,
overhanging brickwork. From a short distance ahead, he heard the
faint grind of leather on metal and knew someone was descending a
ladder from the street above. A slight disturbance in the water
caused the boy to tense. Someone had stepped into the sewer and was
walking in his direction, someone who moved almost as silently as he.

Jimmy hunkered
down, as small as he could make himself in the dark, and watched. In
the gloom, black against black, he could half-see, half-sense a
figure moving toward him. Then, from behind, light showed and Jimmy
could see the approaching man. He was slender, wearing a cloak, and
armed. He turned and whispered harshly, “Cover that damn
lantern.”

But in that
instant, Jimmy could see a face well known to him. The man in the
sewer was Arutha - or at least resembled him enough to fool any but
his closest intimates.

Jimmy held his
breath, for the bogus Prince was passing only a few feet away.
Whoever followed shut the lantern, and darkness enveloped the tunnel,
hiding Jimmy from discovery again. Then he heard the second man pass.
Listening for sounds indicating others, Jimmy waited until he felt
certain no one else was coming. He quickly, but quietly, rose from
his hiding spot and went to where the two men had emerged from the
gloom. Three tunnels intersected, and he would have to spend time
determining which had provided entrance to the sewers for the false
Prince and his companion. Jimmy weighed his options briefly, then
placed the need to follow the pair above the need to discover the
entrance to the sewer employed.

Jimmy knew this
part of the sewers as well as any in Krondor, but if he fell too far
behind he would lose them. He slipped through the dark, listening at
each intersection for the sounds that told him where his quarry
moved.

Through the
murky passages under the city the boy hurried, slowly overtaking the
two men. Once he caught a glimpse of light, as if the shuttered
lantern had been uncovered slightly so the travellers might gain
their bearings. Jimmy followed after it.

Then Jimmy
rounded a corner, and a sudden movement in the air gave warning. He
dodged and felt something pass close to where his head had been,
accompanied by a grunt of exertion. He pulled his dirk and turned
toward the sound of breathing, holding his own breath. Fighting in
the dark was an exercise in controlled terror. Each man could die
from an overactive imagination as he sought a clue to the exact
position of his opponent. Sounds, illusory movement seen from the
corner of the eye, a feeling about where the foe stood, all could
cause a miscue that would give away a location, bringing sudden
death. Both men stood frozen for a long moment.

Jimmy sensed a
scurrying and instantly recognized the presence of a rat, a large one
by the sound, moving away from trouble. He aborted a lunge in that
direction before it was begun and waited. His opponent also heard the
rat, but lashed at it, striking the stone. The ring of steel on stone
was all Jimmy needed and he thrust with his dirk, feeling the point
strike deep. The man stiffened, then with a low sigh collapsed into
the water. The combat had taken three blows, from the first at Jimmy
in the dark to the one that ended it.

Jimmy pulled his
dirk free and listened. There was no sign of the man’s
companion. The youngster swore silently. While he was free of another
attack, it had also allowed the other man freedom to escape. Jimmy
sensed a source of heat nearby and almost burned his hand on the
metal lantern. Uncovering the shutter, he examined his foe. The man
was a stranger, but Jimmy knew he was a Nighthawk. No other possible
explanation could account for his presence in the sewers with an
exact double of the Prince. Jimmy checked the body and found the ebon
hawk worn next to the skin and the black poison ring. There was no
longer any doubt. The Nighthawks were back. Jimmy steeled himself and
quickly cut open the man’s chest, removing the heart and
casting it into the sewer. With the Nighthawks one never knew which
were likely to rise again and serve their master, so it was best to
take no chances.

Jimmy abandoned
the lantern, left the body to float toward the sea with the other
garbage, and began his return to the palace. He hurried, regretting
the time lost in dealing with the corpse. Splashing noisily toward
the nearest exit back to the surface, Jimmy was confident the false
Prince was long gone. As he rounded a corner, a sudden alarm sounded
in his head, for an echo had rung false. Dodging, he was a moment
late. He avoided a sword blade slash but took a blow to the head from
the hilt. He was knocked hard against the wall, his head striking
brick. Pitching forward, he landed in the centre of the sewer
channel, going under muck-covered water. Half-dazed, he managed to
roll over, getting his face above the scum. Through a grey haze, he
could hear someone splashing in the water a short distance away. In a
strange detached way he knew someone was looking for him. But the
lantern lay back where the first man had fallen, and in the dark the
boy drifted away from the man who vainly sought to find him and end
his life.

Hands shook at
the boy, dragging him from an odd half-dream. He had thought it
strange he should be floating in the darkness, for he had to meet
with the Prince of Krondor. But he couldn’t find his good boots
and Master of Ceremonies deLacy would never allow him into the great
hall in his old ones.

Opening his
eyes, Jimmy discovered a leathery face hovering over his own. A
toothless smile greeted his return to full consciousness. “Well,
well,” said the old man with a chuckle. “You’re
back with us again, you are. I’ve seen all manner of things
floating in the sewers over the years. Never thought I’d see
the royal hangman tossed into the scumways, though.” He
continued to chuckle, his face a grotesque dancing mask in the
guttering candlelight.

Jimmy couldn’t
make sense of the old man’s words, until he remembered the hood
he had worn. The old man must have removed it. “Who . . .?”

“Tolly I’m
called, young Jimmy the Hand.” He chuckled. “Must have
come to some difficulty to find yourself in such a fix.”

“How
long?”

“Ten,
fifteen minutes. I heard the splashing about and went to see what’s
to-do. Found you floating. Thought you dead. So I pulled you away to
see if you carried gold. That other one was fit to bust he couldn’t
find you.” Again the chuckle. “He’d have found you
certain if you’d been left to float. But I hauled you to this
little tunnel I uses for a hidey and I’d lit no light till he
was on his way. Found this,” he said, returning Jimmy’s
pouch.

“Keep it.
You’ve saved my life, and more. Where’s the nearest way
to the street?”

The man helped
Jimmy to his feet. “You will find stairs to the basement of
Teech’s Tannery. It’s abandoned. It’s on the Avenue
of Smells.” Jimmy nodded. The street was Collington’s
Road, but all in the Poor Quarter called it the Avenue of Smells
because of the tanneries, slaughterhouses, and dyers located there.

Tolly said,
“You’re gone from the guild, Jimmy, but word’s come
down you might be poking about here and there, so I’ll tell you
the password tonight is “finch”. I don’t know who
those blokes fighting you were, but I’ve seen an odd crew down
here the last three days. I guess things move apace.”

Jimmy realized
this simple tofsman was trusting to the higher-ups in the Mockers to
deal with the intruders in his domain. “Yes, they will be dealt
with in a matter of days.” Jimmy considered. “Look,
there’s more than thirty gold in that pouch. Take word to
Alvarny the Quick. Tell him matters are as suspected and my new
master will act at once, I’m certain. Then take the gold and
have some fun for a few days.”

The man fixed
Jimmy with a squint, grinning his toothless grin. “Stay clear
is what you’re saying? Well then, I might spend a day or two
drinking up your gold. That enough?”

Jimmy said,
“Yes, two days will see this business over.” As he moved
toward the tunnel that would lead to his exit to the streets, he
added, “One way or the other.” He looked about in the
gloom and discovered he had been pulled back toward the place where
he had first encountered the two Nighthawks. Pointing toward the
intersection, he asked, “Is there a metal ladder nearby?”

“Three
that can be used.” He indicated their locations.

“Thanks
again, Tolly. Now, quickly, carry my message to Alvarny.”

The old tofsman
waded away into a large tunnel, and Jimmy began his inspection of the
nearest ladder. It was rusty and dangerous, as was the second, but
the third was newly repaired and firmly anchored in the stones. Jimmy
quickly climbed to the top and examined the trapdoor above.

It was wood and
therefore part of a building floor. Jimmy considered his position
relative to Teech’s Tannery. If his sense of direction wasn’t
off, he was under the building he had thought likely to be the
Nighthawks’ hideout. He listened at the trap for a long minute,
hearing nothing.