Shards of a Broken Crown (22 page)

“Gathis
says you’ve been doing a good job in my absence. Continue to
help out, if you would, please.”

“It’s
my pleasure,” said the student.

Pug and Miranda
returned to their quarters. As they reached the door, Pug said, “That
really was quite remarkable.”

Miranda laughed
and pushed him through the door. Playfully she said, “I’ll
show you something remarkable.”

She shut the
door.

Nakor glanced up
as Pug popped into view. A soldier carrying a bundle of wood dropped
it when suddenly there was a black-robed man standing where there had
only been empty air the moment before. “Hello!” Nakor
called happily.

Captain Subai
was close by, talking to a young officer wearing the black tabard of
Krondor’s Crimson Eagles. A few Pathfinders could be seen
around camp, but their numbers were few. Pug knew that the majority
of them were high in the mountains to the west, scouting the enemy
and ready to return with reports on any movement of Fadawah’s
forces. Their reputation for tracking, scouting, and stealth in the
woodlands was legendary, rivaling that of Kesh’s Imperial
Guides and the Rangers of the Free Cities of Natal. Only the elves
were said to be better.

Subai said,
“Lieutenant Gunderson will lead the patrol accompanying you.”

Pug saw that the
Captain was providing an escort of a dozen men. One, a trailbreaker
Pug judged, was a Pathfinder, and he started riding ahead, while the
others waited for Nakor and Pug to mount their horses.

Subai pointed at
Nakor. “I’m pleased to see that one go. I don’t
know what’s more irritating: his constant preaching on the
subject of ‘good,’ or his luck at cards.”

Pug laughed. “I
have a hunch which was more irritating.”

Subai said,
“We’ve packed provisions for two weeks.”

“I’ll
find them in less time than that,” said Pug as he hiked up his
black robe and climbed into the saddle.

“Just make
sure you find them before they find you. By all reports they come out
of the grasslands like a wind and are over you before you even hear
them coming.”

Nakor said,
“I’ve seen them. You can hear them coming.”

Subai smiled,
and Pug said, “Any other advice?”

“Don’t
get killed,” said the Captain without a smile.

Pug nodded. “I
have other plans.” He nodded to the Lieutenant and the order
was given to ride off.

Nakor said, “I
was talking to the Captain about some trails over the mountain. As
soon as we get back from this nonsense, we have to get back to
Darkmoor and find Greylock and Erik. I think I have a plan that could
shorten the war.”

Pug turned and
said, “Tell me about it.”

Nakor outlined
what he had thought of as they rode down a small trail leading into
the woodlands below.

For five days
they rode, and except for one sighting of a band of riders who veered
off at the patrol’s approach, the journey was uneventful. They
had left the foothills the day before and were riding across
grasslands, heading toward the southern entrance to the Thunderhell
Steppes, a broad break in two ranges of hills, less than five miles
across.

They reached a
point near signs of a large old campsite, and the Lieutenant ordered
a halt. “This was our reserve camp. There were wooden walls, a
dirt outer barrier, a drop gate. They overran it and killed
everyone.” He motioned with his hand. “They staked the
heads in an arch starting here.”

Pug said, “Then
this is where we will part company, Lieutenant.”

The young
officer said, “I though we were to accompany you until we found
the Saaur.”

“A
reasonable assumption but incorrect,” said Pug.

Nakor said,
“Honestly, Lieutenant, we can take care of ourselves and having
you along might cause us some extra trouble, trying to keep you all
alive.”

The Lieutenant
said, “Then may I ask why we’re here at all, sir?”

“Because I
didn’t feel like arguing with your Captain, if you must know,”
said Pug.

“Do you
mind if we wait, sir?”

“Don’t
bother,” said Pug. “If I don’t get killed, I’ll
be traveling back to Darkmoor a lot faster than you can get there.”

The magician’s
reputation was widely spread throughout the army, and he was also a
Duke, so whatever reservations the young officer might have felt were
kept inside. He merely saluted and said, “Very well, m’lord.
Have a safe journey.”

“You, as
well,” replied Pug.

Nakor said,
“Well, then, let’s get there.”

Pug nodded and
urged his horse forward.

They had
traveled less than a mile when Nakor said, “Do you hear it?”

Pug said, “Yes.”

In the distance,
like the sound of distant drums, the thunder of the hooves pounding
across the plains carried to them. Pug knew and Nakor had seen those
horses, twice the size of the sturdy cavalry mounts they rode.
Astride each would be a Saaur, twelve feet tall, reptilian warriors.

Soon dust could
be seen in the distance.

Pug turned to
make sure the Kingdom patrol was retreating and was pleased to see it
was almost out of sight.

“Let’s
wait here,” said Nakor.

Pug nodded.
“They’ll be here soon enough.”

They waited, and
in the distance they could see riders on the horizon. The Saaur were
coming.

Jimmy waved.

Dash returned
his brother’s wave as he rode into the courtyard of Castle
Darkmoor. After spending the night in Erik’s company, he had
taken a horse and ridden to the Prince’s court. He had
exchanged mounts like a relay rider, anxious to get to court.

Dash dismounted
and turned the reins of his horse over to a groom and embraced his
brother. “I was concerned I might not see you again for a
while,” he said.

Jimmy smiled. “I
feared the same, too. Yet again, though, the Brothers Jamison
survive.”

“Barely,”
said Dash. “I got away from a work gang, only to be trapped by
the Mockers.”

“Come
along, tell me all about it while you bathe. Father’s in court
with the Prince and will be anxious to see you when you’re
presentable. It appears we won’t need any details on defenses,
as we seem to be reaching an accommodation with General Duko.”

“So Erik
von Darkmoor tells me.” He glanced around. “Where are the
troops ready to march, the brave banners and loud trumpets?”

“Ah,”
said Jimmy, a dark cloud crossing over his face. “The departure
is delayed.”

“Delayed?”
Dash looked confused. “I would have thought Patrick would have
hurt himself to get into Krondor as quickly as possible. The earlier
the city is secured, the faster we can turn north toward Sarth and
start retaking the Bitter Sea coast and Yabon.”

“There are
other issues.” Jimmy pulled on his brother’s arm. “Come
along. Get a bath and we’ll talk.”

Dash sighed. He
trudged along after his brother.

Dash sputtered
as Jimmy poured another bucket of hot water over him. “So then
he turned you loose?”

“Yes,”
said Dash, “but I don’t think there was a lot of family
devotion in there. What I saw looked like a pretty pathetic bunch,
and I suspect he knew that killing me would protect very little,
while turning me loose might actually gain him something.”

“Well, if
Duko doesn’t turn out to be the grandfather of liars, we won’t
need the Mockers’ help getting into the city.”

“I’m
for that,” said Dash. “I’ve seen enough bloodshed
to last me the rest of my life.”

Jimmy put down
the bucket and handed Dash a towel as he climbed out of the bathtub.
A servant had laid out clothing on the bed and left the brothers
alone. Dash toweled dry, and said, “Does it bother you?”

“The
killing?” asked Jimmy.

Dash nodded.

Jimmy sat back
on the windowseat. “Sometimes. When Grandfather used to talk
about the things he and Prince Arutha did, killing was . . .
something you did to the enemy. The stink of the dead wasn’t
part of Grandfather’s stories.”

“Except
that one about the living dead in the brothel,” said Dash with
a laugh. “To this day I don’t know whether to believe it
or not. Having to burn the building down to the ground to get rid of
them.”

Jimmy shared the
humor. Then his smile faded. “Given what we’ve seen in
the last two years, I’m disinclined to put false to anything
Grandfather told us.”

Dash nodded. “Do
you ever ask yourself why we do these things?”

“Almost
every day,” said Jimmy.

Dash pulled on
his shirt. “Good, what’s the answer?”

“Because
we go where duty calls us.”

Dash stepped
into his trousers. “Duty?” He reached for his boots and
sat on the bed to pull them on. “These aren’t as good as
the ones I lost in Krondor.”

“They were
the second best pair you brought with you from Rillanon; I checked
your wardrobe.”

Dash nodded.
“Anyway, Grandfather always talked of duty, but I saw where he
grew up, firsthand, and I have no idea why he felt that way.”

“What
way?” asked Jimmy. “I’m not sure I’m
understanding you.”

“I mean he
felt so deeply his duty to the Kingdom. Those Mockers I talked to
looked at it as you or I might look at taking vows to serve Sung.”

“Celibacy
was never high on my list of virtues,” admitted Jimmy.

“That’s
what I mean. Grandfather had Father as deep into the idea of King and
Nation before we were born as if he was teaching a religion. I’m
just at a loss to wonder how Grandfather got that way.”

Jimmy looked at
his brother as he finished dressing. “Interesting question.
Perhaps Father can give you an insight. I suspect that if all those
stories we heard were true, and if life with the Mockers was as
unappealing as I suspect it was, Grandfather might have been moved by
a very deep sense of gratitude.”

Dash glanced in
a looking-glass and judged his appearance acceptable for an interview
with the Prince. “I don’t think it’s that. It’s
more than gratitude.” He looked at Jimmy. “Is there
anything you can imagine that would get you to break your vows to the
crown?”

Jimmy stopped
almost in midstride; the concept was too alien to imagine. “Turn
traitor?” He stopped and said, “I can’t imagine
what it could be. Perhaps some sort of perfect love . . .” He
shook his head. “No, because I can’t imagine any woman
who loved me turning against something I hold that dear.”

“Speaking
of women, did I see a page hurry by wearing the livery of Silden?”

“Yes, you
did,” said Jimmy with a grin.

“Is
Francie here with her father?”

Jimmy nodded.
“Yes.”

“And does
she still have that crush on you?”

Jimmy’s
grin widened. “I hope so.” He laughed. “We had
lunch the other day. She’s turned out just as you might
expect.”

Dash opened the
door and said, “If memory serves she was obnoxious and beat you
up with some regularity.”

“No,”
said Jimmy, stepping through the door. “It was you she beat up.
I was too big. Beside, she fancied herself in love with me.”

“Well,
then, back to the point, is there something there?”

Jimmy walked
down the hall with his brother. “Seriously, I don’t know.
I suspect, however, I may have nothing to say in the matter, nor will
Francie.”

“Patrick?”

“That’s
the delay I spoke of. Suddenly Dukes are winging their way like birds
in migration toward Darkmoor.”

“All with
eligible daughters?”

Rounding a
corner, moving past guards standing at their posts, Jimmy said, “I
think the King worries that with war coming, another heir might prove
valuable.”

They climbed the
steps in the main hall that led to the Baronial great hall, where
Patrick currently held court. “The curse of twins.”

“Erland
would never do anything against his brother, we know that, but
there’s more than one noble who might link his fate to one of
Erland’s sons should a rival claim be possible. If Patrick
doesn’t wed and beget a son. . .” He let the thought go
unfinished as they reached the audience hall.

Nobles had been
trickling into Darkmoor since the thaw, and now the modest Baronial
hall was packed to the point of overcrowding. Dash said, “We’d
better take Krondor back just so we can get into a hall big enough to
hold this lot.”

Jimmy said,
“Shhh.” He pointed to where their father stood next to
the Prince. It was the most formal-looking court they had witnessed
so far in Darkmoor, for Patrick wore his purple mantle, his ermine
stole, and his circlet of gold. Arutha was likewise attired formally
in a black tunic with golden trim, scarlet leggings, and his chain of
office, with his Ducal seal hanging from it. At his side he wore the
sword once borne by his namesake, carried by Erik von Darkmoor to
Arutha.

The brothers
waited at the rear of the hall as the Prince disposed of the day’s
business. Then a young page announced, “This day’s court
is at an end, my lords and ladies.”

Patrick stood
and everyone in the room bowed. As the Prince departed, Arutha saw
his sons and motioned for them to join him.

They crossed the
still-crowded court, and when they reached the dais upon which the
throne was placed, Arutha hugged his younger son. “I can’t
tell you how pleased I am to see you.”

“Of course
you can,” quipped Dash.

Arutha said,
“Come, you must fill in the Prince on what you learned in
Krondor.”

Dash followed
his father and brother into the Prince’s private office.

Nakor said, “Do
you think they’ll get tired of this?” Pug said,
“Eventually, or they’ll run out of arrows.” Pug had
erected a mystical barrier around the two when the Saaur had first
closed on Nakor and him, as it was clear they weren’t coming to
talk, but rather were charging with lances down. These appeared to be
young Saaur warriors, eager to shed blood. Several of them had been
seriously injured when their lances struck Pug’s invisible
barrier and shattered, throwing them from their saddles. For almost a
half day since, the Saaur had been content to take up position a
dozen yards from the two men and fire arrows at them.