Shards of a Broken Crown (28 page)

“Only
until the real one shows up. Then I’ll return to doing what I
do best, traveling and learning things.”

“Well,
until this person puts in an appearance, what are you going to do?”

Nakor said, “Do
tricks, tell stories, provide food, get people to listen to the
message of the Good Lady.”

Dominic said,
“First must come belief. When people begin to understand that
good flows from Arch-Indar, then they will begin the long task of
bringing her back to us.”

“I don’t
pretend to understand everything involved with temple politics,”
said Arutha. “I have read notes left by my father and Prince
Arutha, and I get the distinct impression they were privy to secrets
that were not passed along to me.”

Dominic said
nothing.

“Very
well,” said Arutha. “I will trust that nothing in this
poses a threat to the Kingdom, which is my charge and area of
concern. Besides, it seems to me that spreading the doctrine of doing
good can harm no one.”

Nakor shook his
head. “Would that it were true. Men have been put to death for
preaching good.”

Arutha said,
“Well, at least not in the West while I’m Duke of
Krondor.” Looking at Dominic he said, “If I can find this
entrance to the old abbey, can you get us inside?”

Dominic said, “I
can. The entrance is locked from within. But there is a secret
control that will open it from without. Your father found that
control.”

Arutha smiled.
“He always claimed he was the best thief in the history of
Krondor.”

“Skill or
luck, he recognized it, disarmed a trap, and activated the entrance.
Almost gave one of our brothers a heart attack when he showed up
inside our library.”

Arutha said,
“The question becomes how many men to bring with us.”

Dominic said, “I
know only a little of warcraft. You must bring a small enough company
that we are not detected while moving through the mountains and large
enough that once inside we stand a good chance of securing the
abbey.”

“Can you
draw me plans of the abbey?”

“I lived
there fifty years, Duke Arutha. I can show you every hallway and
closet.”

“Good. I
will have a scribe visit with you in the morning. If you can have
them finished by the end of the week, I would be appreciative. If
we’re going to be in position to get inside the abbey when Owen
strikes up the coast at Sarth, we need be on the way up the eastern
trail along Nightmare Ridge by then.”

Dominic bowed
and said, “I am at your disposal. If someone could show me to a
room? It’s been a long journey from Rillanon.”

Arutha rang a
small bell and a page opened the door to his office. “Show
Brother Dominic to my quarters and bring him whatever he needs.”

“Your
quarters?” asked the Ishapian.

“I will
not be needing them tonight, I’m afraid. I have many things to
do before first light tomorrow. Perhaps a nap after the morning
court.”

Dominic nodded
and bowed again, following the page out of the room.

Nakor said, “At
least you’ve enough sense to put a bedroll behind your desk, if
you need to catch a nap.”

Arutha smiled.
“You don’t miss much, do you?”

“I’m
a gambler, remember? If I missed things I’d be broke or dead.”

“Are you
coming with us?”

“No,”
said Nakor. “It sounds interesting, but I think I need to be
here. Dominic brings a great gift from the Ishapians. They will share
the power they gain from the Tear of the Gods with us. When we have
found the true leader of our temple, we will send him to Rillanon and
there he will be given this power.

“That
power will turn my little warehouse into a true temple, where prayers
will be answered, and miracles performed. Men will learn of good and
then help recreate the Good Lady.”

Arutha said, “A
worthy undertaking.” He rose. “If you’ll excuse me,
Nakor, I do have work. And if you need anything for your temple and I
can help before I go, I will do my best.”

“Thanks,”
said Nakor, as he walked to the door. “Come back alive, if you
would. A new Duke might not be so willing to listen to me.”

Arutha laughed
as he opened the door to his office. “Well, as much as I’d
hate to inconvenience you by getting killed, I think I would be even
more inconvenienced.”

“True.
See, it’s to both our benefit if you stay alive.”

Arutha laughed
again as he closed the door behind Nakor. Still chuckling, he sat
back down behind his desk and considered the mountain of work before
him. The smile faded as he picked up the first report he needed to
review and, after scanning it, placed it in a pile to review with his
clerk in the morning.

He picked up the
next piece of paper.

“Jimmy!”
called Francie as he started down the hallway.

Jimmy turned and
saw her hurrying after him. “Hello,” he said coolly.

She slipped her
arm in his and said, “I haven’t seen you for a while. Has
your father had you out and about?”

Jimmy said, “No,
I’ve been working here, but have little time of my own.”
Very gently and slowly, he disengaged his arm from hers.

“Jimmy,
what’s wrong?” she asked.

Jimmy felt his
color rise, and suddenly he was choking on unexpected emotions.
“What’s wrong is it isn’t appropriate for me to be
overly familiar with the future Queen of Isles.”

Her color rose
in a blush and she looked down at the floor stones. “I should
have known your father would tell you.”

“Why
didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

She looked up at
him, and her eyes were rimming with moisture. “I don’t
know. I didn’t know . . . how you’d take it. Before I
came to Darkmoor, I thought I knew how I felt about you . . . about
us. Then when I saw you, and we dined together and those walks
together . . . I don’t know. Things just didn’t seem the
same as they did when we were children.”

Jimmy said,
“That’s because they’re not the same. We’re
not children.”

She looked him
in the eyes, then impulsively leaned forward and kissed him on the
cheek. “You were always my best friend, Jimmy. I love you more
than any boy I’ve known. I want you to be happy for me.”

Jimmy flushed.
“Happy because you’re going to be Queen, or because
you’re going to marry that ass Patrick?”

“Don’t
be that way,” she said softly. “Daddy says someone has to
keep Patrick in line, and that’s why he wants me to be a strong
Queen. It’s one of the reasons the King wants me to marry
Patrick.”

Jimmy said,
“Look, I don’t know what to say. I only know that
whatever we want doesn’t matter, and that you’ll marry
Patrick, and I’ll marry whoever Father tells me to marry, and
that will be the end of that. It’s never been any other way.”

She squeezed his
hand. “Be my friend?”

He nodded. “I’ll
always be that, Francie.”

A tear formed
and started down her cheek. “I’ll need friends like you
when I’m Queen in Rillanon.”

He found his own
feelings rising and said, “It’s just. . .”

“What?”

Softly he said,
“We’ll never know what we could have been, don’t
you see?”

She nodded. “I
see. But there’s never been a choice for either of us, has
there? We can’t let our feelings distract us from our duty.”
She looked into his eyes a moment, then added, “I will always
love the boy who used to play with me in the palace at Rillanon, and
who used to laugh when I beat up his little brother. I’ll
cherish the time we spent sneaking into all those places we weren’t
supposed to go. I never forgave you for being boys and getting to do
boy things, while I had to learn to be a lady.” She sighed.
“But I will never be able to fall in love, my dearest Jimmy.
And neither will you. Don’t mourn for something that never was.
Just be my friend.”

Without another
word she released his hand and hurried back down the corridor.

Jimmy stood
quietly for a long minute, then slowly turned and resumed his walk
down the corridor.

Dash signaled
and Jimmy turned and waved. They were a hundred yards ahead of the
first column heading into Krondor. A delegation of Duko’s men
were waiting a mile outside the city and Jimmy wanted the column to
wait until an exchange of documents was completed.

Jimmy urged his
horse forward and rode to a point just before the obvious leader of
the group. Jimmy saluted and said, “I am Baron James of the
Prince’s court.” He recognized the man as being one of
Duko’s captains. Then he remembered his name. “How are
you, Captain Boyse?”

The Captain, a
muscular man with a long beard and hair, nodded. “Well, Baron
James.”

Jimmy reached
into a pouch sewn into his cloak and pulled a thread, unraveling the
top seam. He reached into the pocket and pulled out a sheaf of
documents. He handed them to Boyse. “This is the final
communication between Prince Patrick and our newly named Lord
Sutherland. This will confirm his appointment to office—the
ceremony will be held when Patrick returns to the city. There are
several orders and instructions, but they just reaffirm what the Duke
already knows.”

Captain Boyse
stroked his chin. “You know, when Duko . . . I mean the Duke,
first told me of this deal, I would have bet my life it would never
take place.” He shrugged. “What do I know?” He
pointed to the southwest. “A troop of five hundred men, foot
and horse alike, are already on the march toward Land’s End. We
will occupy that fortress by week’s end.” He smiled. “I
understand we may have to dislodge a few Keshians who have wandered
into that town from the desert?”

Jimmy nodded.
“Bandits, mostly.”

“You’ve
brought the replacements?”

“Up the
road,” said Jimmy.

“Good.”
He handed the documents to one of his lieutenants, and said, “I
will happily trade this garrison duty for some scrapping along the
frontier. Some of my men are city men, who were carpenters or masons,
fishermen and the like, back home, but I was always a soldier.”
He looked around as if trying to see beyond the limits of his vision.
“Duko’s a thinker; he talks about this nation of yours.
He tells us this new pledge of loyalty is a good thing.” He
looked at Jimmy. “I do not know of such things. I am trained to
fight and kill and die if needed. But I trust Duko. He has been my
leader for more than half my life, and he was not much more than a
boy when I pledged service to him. So, if Duko says we are now
servants of your Prince, and that we fight for this nation we tried
to take last year, then we shall serve your Prince and fight for this
nation. I don’t claim to understand it, but I will do as Duko
orders, for he is my General.”

Jimmy nodded. “I
understand. And for that reason, he will continue to be your
General.” Then Jimmy smiled. “And perhaps someday he will
have a son, who will grow up to also be your General.”

Boyse laughed.
“That would be something, wouldn’t it, Baron James?”
He turned his horse around and said, “Call your men. Let us
ride into Krondor together.”

Jimmy signaled
and Dash rode forward, and the column behind him also moved up. When
they were formed up with Boyse and his companions, they started
forward, and for the first time in almost a year, the agents of the
Prince of Krondor were reclaiming his city for the crown.

Dash hurried
along the street, dodging workers and peddlers. Life was returning to
Krondor, and there were endless tasks before them. Several hundred
mercenaries from outside the walls had been given employment and sent
to the borders to the south. Others were being recruited for caravan
escort and garrison duty in the area between Darkmoor and Shamata,
replacing soldiers who were being sent to this front.

Workers,
shopkeepers, and some minor nobles had returned in the last two
weeks. Two messengers from Fadawah had been intercepted, and
reassuring reports returned by other messengers, soldiers loyal to
Duko who could be trusted to report only what Duko wanted Fadawah and
Nordan to know.

Dash judged it
would be only a matter of two or three weeks more before it was
obvious to Fadawah and Nordan that Duko had turned coat. The story
that a big wedding in Rillanon would keep the Prince away from the
West for a year, and that Keshian agitation along the border would
keep the Kingdom from attempting to retake Krondor, had been widely
circulated. Duko’s latest message to Fadawah included a note
that a Keshian agent had made preliminary contact with him inquiring
about the possibility of formal treaty with the “King of the
Bitter Sea,” which Duko hoped would keep Fadawah overconfident
for a while longer.

Dash turned a
corner, heading into a burned-out portion of the city that was far
down the list to be rebuilt. The note he had received had been short
and to the point. No signature had been affixed, but he had no doubt
who had sent it.

Dash worried
about the presence of Keshian agents in the city. The transfer of
soldiers was taking place slowly. The logistics of getting those
patrols to pre-determined locations, having those men switch clothing
with Kingdom regulars, and change places, was very complex. To any
casual observer, it appeared that a half-dozen or so patrols rode out
throughout the day and returned later. What wasn’t apparent was
that they were composed of different men. The one place Duko’s
men remained was at two checkpoints south of Nordan’s position
in Sarth. So far there had been no mistakes.

Dash reached the
appropriate place and stepped inside the burned-out shell of a
tavern. As soon as he was inside the fire-blackened walls, a voice in
the shadows said, “You come alone, Puppy?”

Dash’s
expression let Trina know what he thought of being called “Puppy.”

“I’m
alone.”

She jerked her
head to one side, indicating a door to a rear room. He moved toward
it, and it opened. John Turpin stood in front of the doorway and
said, “Sword.”