Shards of a Broken Crown (34 page)

Roo came and
knelt just beyond the guards, so that he was at eye-level with the
man. “My Lord Vasarius, how pleasant to see you here.”

“Avery,”
the man nearly spat. “Have the Gods selected you to personally
plague me for some affront?”

Roo shrugged. “I
wouldn’t know. You just happened to be the unlucky conduit
whereby I could achieve some gains for my King. Nothing personal.”

“It’s
very personal,” said Vasarius.

“Then you
better rethink things, for you are in no position to make threats.”
Roo looked up to where Lieutenant Akers stood, and said, “This
is a very important Quegan noble; he’s a member of their
Imperial Senate.”

The Lieutenant
motioned to two guards to haul Vasarius up to his feet. They cut
loose his bonds, and Lieutenant Akers said, “I’ll show
you to private quarters, m’lord. You understand there will be a
guard outside the door.”

With a curt nod,
Vasarius acknowledged the courtesy and walked off behind the
Lieutenant.

Roo took the
moment to regard the captured Quegan sailors. The last time he had
seen a lot that miserable had been in the death cell in the palace at
Krondor. Turning to a guard, he said, “What will happen to
them?”

The guard
shrugged. “A work camp, I expect. If we ever get a treaty with
Queg, maybe a prisoner exchange. Though the Quegans never release
prisoners, so I guess we’re stuck with these.”

Roo walked to
the railing and again studied landmarks: the way the road turned, the
odd clump of trees near a large boulder overlooking the beach. He
glanced over his shoulder, across the deck where the Quegan galley
slipped under the water with a burst of bubbles. Yes, he was certain
he could find this spot again. Hire a magician from the Wreckers
Guild in Krondor to raise the ship and offload the treasure, and he’d
be the Western Realm’s wealthiest man again. Roo grinned to
himself.

Arutha ducked
behind a door. An arrow sped through it, striking die hardwood floor
of the main entrance to the abbey. Subai’s men had control of
the abbey and Nordan’s invaders held the outer walls and the
cookhouse. Subai had men on the roof of the abbey and they were
exchanging bow-shots with those on the wall. So far both sides were
being isolated.

Arutha said to
Subai, “If we can keep them from getting out the gate, it’s
as good as a victory.”

“If all is
going according to plan, we need to hold them until dark.”

Arutha glanced
at the sun in the sky and judged it nearly noon. “Six, seven
more hours.”

Subai said, “I’m
concerned, m’lord. I think I’ve seen some signals between
those on the wall and those in the stable. If they risked lowering a
man on the outside of the gate, he may already be down the hill
asking for aid.”

Arutha knew that
if reinforcements arrived at the gate, they were done for. The abbey
was originally an ancient warlord’s fortress. The tower rose
high above, seemingly touching the clouds. Kingdom soldiers were
storming the tower from within, and once on the roof above, the abbey
would be theirs. Around the tower a large citadel had been erected,
with an outer wall and two outbuildings. Arutha had studied the plans
alongside Captain Subai and Brother Dominic until he knew it like his
own sons’ faces. He knew that from the outside, it was a nearly
impregnable fortification. Only by taking it from within would they
gain control. Otherwise a long siege would ensue, requiring that a
substantial number of men be diverted from the coming campaign.

“I’m
not worried about that,” said Arutha. “They’d have
to risk getting shot to open the gate and let reinforcements in.
Besides, if they can afford to strip men away from the defense of
Sarth to rescue the men up here, we’ve lost this battle
anyway.”

Suddenly a shout
heralded a charge from the stable. Arutha stood shocked a moment, as
armed men raced toward the main door of the abbey, a flight of arrows
over their heads forcing him to retreat from the door. Many of the
attackers went down from answering shots from the abbey roof, but
most made it to where Arutha, Subai, and a dozen men crowded the
entrance. Arutha met the first man at the door and cut him down
before he could step inside. As the man fell, Arutha looked past him
to see men risking broken bones by jumping from the parapet, so they
could unbar the massive wooden gates.

“ ‘Ware
the gates!” Arutha shouted as he struck out at the next man to
face him.

Then the sound
of horses could be heard as a company of riders charged out from the
barn, attempting to reach the gates as they opened. Without
hesitation, Arutha shouted, “Follow me!” and charged out
into the open. He knew that if he could keep the riders from fleeing
the yard, he could prevent word reaching Nordan that the abbey was
under attack. By denying them the gate, it would break the back of
the last resistance in the abbey and force a surrender. Half the
garrison was under guard in the basements below, and a full hundred
lay dead or wounded throughout the compound. The hundred men trapped
in the kitchen, the barn, and upon the walls were the only ones left.

Arutha felt a
surge of energy, something akin to joy, mixed with nothing short of
terror, as he dodged through the melee, striking up at a horseman who
was attempting to engage another Kingdom soldier. Arutha’s
blade struck a glancing blow, not injuring the rider, but distracting
him enough so the other soldier could unseat him.

Riders were
milling around and horses were rearing and bucking, panic rising in
the herd as the fighting swirled around them. Arutha glanced to his
left and saw Subai signaling his men to fan out and, by pointing, to
mount an unguarded set of steps leading to the upper wall.

Arutha looked
toward the gate and saw two men, one wounded, were freeing the bar.
He shouted, “The gate!” and charged.

Halfway between
the main building of the abbey and the gate, an arrow struck Arutha
in the neck, between breastplate and helm.

For a moment he
thought someone had punched him with a fist, for he felt the impact
of the blow and his legs go out from under him, but he didn’t
feel much pain. Then his vision seemed to contract, as if he were
falling backward down a long tunnel, with darkness sweeping in from
all sides. Still uncertain of what was happening, Arutha, Duke of
Krondor, slipped into a void.

Subai was
halfway to the steps to the top of the wall when he saw Arutha go
down and shouted to two of his men, “Get the Duke back here!”

The two soldiers
raced out in the middle of the fight, managed to grab the Duke, and
haul him back to Subai’s position. Subai knelt beside the Duke,
but he had seen enough dead men before that he didn’t have to
take a second look at Arutha. He considered how ironic it was that
this brave man had died in his first conflict, and then put aside all
thoughts of the Duke; Subai had a battle to fight.

Erik signaled to
Greylock and the two elements of the Kingdom army charged. Horsemen
raced down the main street of Sarth, heading to the Trades Masters’
Hall, the headquarters and final defense of the invaders. So far the
retaking of Sarth had gone without a hitch. The entire city defense
had been ordered south to deal with Greylock’s center thrust.
As had been the plan, Greylock stood and engaged, while Erik’s
right flank element pushed through light resistance on the
treacherous hillside east of the road, and while ships were unloading
soldiers at the dock.

Owen held a
stable front, while Erik feigned a flanking attack from the right.
The enemy shifted to face Erik, who withdrew just as soldiers under
the command of the Duke of Ran struck them from the rear. Within
minutes, it was a total rout.

Many men fled
north along the King’s Highway, but a few hundred had
barricaded themselves in the large building that dominated the town’s
square. Erik’s charging column wheeled to the right and flanked
the building from the northeast, while Greylock’s men stood on
the southwest. Quickly the building was encircled.

Occasional
arrows flew from windows in the upper floor, but otherwise the
building was sealed. Windows and doors on the lower floor had been
barricaded.

Erik turned to
Duga, the mercenary Captain who had been among the first to switch
sides during the war. “Keep the men back!” he ordered,
then he set heels to his horse and rode around to Greylock’s
position. “Orders, sir?”

Greylock was
sweating furiously under the midday heat, his hair hanging limply
across his brow. “I’m lacking patience, Erik.” He
rode a little closer to the building and shouted, “You, in the
guild hall!”

An arrow sped
from an upper window, missing by a few feet.

“Damn it!
I’m talking to you,” shouted Greylock.

Erik said, “Let
me,” and switching to the language of Novindus, he shouted,
“Our leader wishes parlay!”

After a moment,
a voice from within shouted, “What terms?”

Erik translated.

Owen said, “Tell
him, the terms are throw down weapons and walk out, or we’ll
burn the building down with them inside of it. They must decide now!”

Erik translated,
and there was the sound of a sudden argument breaking out inside.
Then the sound of fighting erupted, and Erik glanced at Owen, who
nodded.

Erik shouted,
“Charge!” and from all sides the Kingdom forces rushed
the building.

Erik and Owen
were closest, and reached the main door of the building. Erik turned
and shouted, “Bring a ram!”

As men rushed to
obey, other men were kicking at smaller doors or attempting to pry
window shutters off their hinges. Suddenly the main door opened and a
sword flew out, to clatter on the stone street at Erik’s feet.

“We’re
coming out!” shouted a voice from within.

Erik and Owen
stepped away from the door and a group of men came out, holding their
swords by the blade. As they came into view of the Kingdom soldiers,
they threw the swords to the ground, the Novindus mercenaries’
sign of surrender. Duga came to stand beside Erik. “I know
these lads. Most of them are pretty decent fellows if you give them a
chance.” Then he saw a few hanging back at the rear and added,
“Though a few of them should probably be hung just to improve
the air around here.”

Erik said,
“They’re all going to be locked up for a while until we
can get them sent back home.”

Duga said,
“Well, even after wintering with you, Captain, I can’t
say as I understand how you Kingdom folk think, but then nothing
that’s been happening for the last few years makes any sense to
me. When this war is done, maybe you can explain things to me.”

Erik said, “As
soon as someone explains things to me.”

Soldiers entered
the building and took out the rest of the invaders. A few were
carried out bloodied and unconscious. One of the first to surrender
said to Erik and Duga, “That lot didn’t see any point to
surrender. The rest of us didn’t see any point in being roasted
for Fadawah.”

Duga grinned.
“Nordan will fart flames when he hears this.”

The soldier
said, “He already did.” He pointed to a man being carried
out. “That’s General Nordan.”

Erik motioned
for the two soldiers to take the unconscious general to one side.
Owen nodded, a smile of satisfaction on his face. Reports started
coming in that the town of Sarth was secure. Owen said, “Erik,
take a company up the road and see if the abbey is secured. If you
encounter any of the enemy, get back down that road as fast as you
can.” He turned to Duga. “You form up a barricade company
at the bottom of the road, in case Erik returns in a hurry.”

Erik saluted,
and as he turned to find his horse, Owen said, “Captain.”

Erik looked back
at his old friend. “Yes, Marshal?”

“Your boys
did very well on the right flank. Tell them I said so.”

Erik smiled.
“I’ll tell them.” He hurried to where his horse was
being held and turned to find Jadow Shati. To his old companion, he
said, “Bring second squad and follow me.”

Jadow, who
looked as if he had just finished a relaxing morning ride, nodded and
signaled. “Second squad, follow me. The rest of you, help
secure the area!”

Erik led his
small company through the town of Sarth. There was occasional
fighting in scattered locations, as a few hardcore members of
Nordan’s army refused to surrender, but mostly bands of
disarmed prisoners being taken to the rear where a compound was being
erected to confine them. A few townspeople, who had fled during the
fighting, could be seen up in the hills surrounding the city, a few
of the more courageous among them coming down into the town.

Erik and his men
rode eastward, and rather than veering back along the King’s
Highway where it turned south, they moved along a smaller road
heading upward, into the mountains. Atop the first of these,
overlooking the coast, was the Abbey of Sarth, once home to the
largest library on the world of Midkemia.

The horses were
tired from the charge through the town, but Erik pushed them, anxious
to find out if Arutha and Subai had been successful, or if a force of
armed men was poised to strike down at Sarth. They had been so
successful in retaking the southern end of Fadawah’s holdings,
Erik was certain something terrible must happen.

As they neared
the summit, they heard the sounds of fighting from within. The road
was narrow most of the way up the mountain, the men riding in pairs.
At a point thirty yards before the gate, the road widened, allowing
the men to spread out. Horse archers were ready and started firing
upon the few men they could see on the wall. Erik signaled and a
dozen riders dismounted and raced to the gate. They threw grapples up
and secured them. Men climbed while the bowmen kept those on the wall
busy. As soon as the first wave was across, other men followed, and
fighting erupted along the parapet. Erik knew that had there been no
Kingdom forces within, his own men would have died, never reaching
the walls. A warning shout alerted Erik, and he formed up his men to
charge. He gave the signal as soon as the gates began to open.