130
KRONDOR THE BETRAYAL
‘‘What did it look like?’’ demanded James.
‘‘It had a bird on it.’’
James glanced at Gorath and Owyn. ‘‘What else?’’ asked James.
‘‘They told me to forget I had ever seen them,’’ replied Jason.
‘‘And they smelled funny, like sailors from Silden do when they come here, like sun on canvas and flowers.’’
Gorath and Owyn began inspecting the room, while James went outside. He saw Earl Richard, rooted on the same spot he had occupied when James had entered the inn. The shock of the murders had rendered the Earl nearly unable to function. James had seen it before with men who were unused to bloodshed. He hurried to the Earl and said, ‘‘My lord, what do you propose?’’
Blinking as if he had difficulty understanding James, Richard echoed, ‘‘Propose?’’
James pointed at the crowd, and said, ‘‘You must tell them something. Disperse them before things get any uglier than before. Then the bodies must be attended to.’’
‘‘Yes,’’ said Earl Richard. ‘‘That’s so.’’ He mounted the fountain and stood where everyone could see him. ‘‘Citizens of Romney,’’ he shouted, and as the words came from him, James could see that speaking before the citizenry was something the Earl did often, for the familiarity of the task returned his wits.
‘‘Go to your homes!’’ commanded the Earl. ‘‘Stay calm. Black murder has been done, and those responsible will be hunted down and punished.’’ He jumped down and waved over a constable. ‘‘I want someone from the Riverpullers and the Ironmongers here in five minutes.’’
‘‘Damn!’’ said the Earl to James. ‘‘I need to send to Cheam for more troops. Black Guy won’t be pleased when he learns fifty of the King’s Own have died in my city.’’
‘‘Nor will the King,’’ observed James. Seeing the Earl’s face cloud over at the mention of King Lyam, James said, ‘‘My companions and I will do anything we can to help.’’
‘‘The best thing you can do right now, Squire, is find out who is behind this.’’
‘‘I already know,’’ said James. He told them of the tarweed and the two men who appeared to be from Silden.
131
Raymond E. Feist
‘‘Nighthawks!’’ whispered the Earl, so as not to be overheard by any of the crowd who were slowly leaving the area.
‘‘Damn! I almost wish it had been Damon Reeves or Arle Steelsoul behind this.’’
‘‘Why them?’’ asked James.
‘‘Because then I could hang one or the other with cause and end two problems for the price of one. Reeves runs the Riverpullers, and Arle Steelsoul is the head of the Ironmongers’ Guild. They are at the heart of the dispute.’’ He indicated two men approaching. When they were standing before the Earl, he said, ‘‘Tell your respective factions that I have had enough with violence in Romney. I hold the heads of the Riverpullers and Ironmongers personally responsible for the good behavior of both sides of this dispute. Any further violence, and I will hang them, side by side, from the city gate. Carry word back to them now!’’
The first man, one of the Ironmongers, said, ‘‘But Arle Steelsoul’s down in Sloop!’’
‘‘Then carry word to Sloop,’’ instructed the Earl.
James said, ‘‘M’lord, I will do that.’’ The two men exchanged glances, as if asking who the stranger was to bear such tidings to the leaders of the two warring factions.
The Earl said, ‘‘Pass the word that Arle’s and Damon’s lives will be forfeit if there are any more problems in my city.’’ The two men bowed and ran off.
‘‘Can you enforce the threat, m’lord?’’ asked James when the men were out of earshot.
‘‘Probably not, but it may shock them into behaving themselves until the next detachment of soldiers arrives.’’ He looked at James. ‘‘Why do you choose to go to Sloop?’’
‘‘Because that’s where the poisoned ale is from, and because I think we need to continue on down to Silden after that.’’
‘‘Then tell Steelsoul and Michael Waylander that I expect both men to be here in three days’ time, along with Reeves and the other local leaders of the various factions, and should either not appear, I will know he has a hand in black murder.
I’ll issue the death warrant myself. If they both show up, I’m locking all of them in a room and neither side will be permitted to leave until we have a settlement of these differences. I 132
KRONDOR THE BETRAYAL
don’t care if they have to pee on the floor, or die of starvation, I’ll have an end to this business before any of them sees the sun again.’’
Convinced of the Earl’s earnestness in the matter, James said,
‘‘My companions and I will be off in an hour, m’lord.’’ He bowed and returned to the Black Sheep, where two workers were helping Jason move the bodies so they could be piled up on a wagon and taken from the city for cremation. Owyn waved James over.
‘‘Find anything interesting?’’
‘‘Just this,’’ said Owyn. He held out two items. One was a small silver brooch, looking like an oversize spider.
‘‘What’s this?’’ asked James.
‘‘Turn it over,’’ said Gorath.
James did as he was bid and saw a large groove running down the center of the item. In it a tightly packed gummy substance could be seen. James lifted the device to his nose and sniffed. ‘‘Silverthorn!’’ he said.
‘‘Are you sure?’’ asked Owyn.
‘‘I’d recognize that odor, anywhere, trust me,’’ replied James.
‘‘It’s an assassin’s tool,’’ said Gorath. ‘‘You run the edge of a dagger along that groove and even if you don’t strike a killing blow, the victim dies within hours.’’
‘‘What else?’’ asked James.
Owyn held out a brass tube with glass at each end. ‘‘A spyglass?’’ asked James.
‘‘Look through it,’’ suggested Owyn.
James did, and his perspective altered. The colors through the glass changed, and he suddenly saw shifting patterns on the clothing of his companions as well as on the walls of the building. Pulling it away from his eye, he said, ‘‘What is this?’’
Owyn said, ‘‘It’s magic. I will have to study it, but I think it lets you see things you otherwise can’t see, such as magically hidden items.’’
James looked down at the two items. He wished he had better clues, but these two would have to do as a start.
133
Eight
•
Secrets D ARK SHAPES MOVED IN THE EVENING SHADOWS.
James pointed to them, and Owyn asked, ‘‘What?’’
Gorath said, ‘‘I see them.’’
They had ridden south at midday, pushing the horses as much as possible, to reach the village of Sloop and deliver the Earl’s ultimatum to Steelsoul and Waylander. As sundown approached, they had crested a rise and come within sight of town. Armed men were filtering through the trees at the north end of the town, heading toward a clump of houses.
Gorath urged his horse forward, pulling his sword. James and Owyn were on his heels a moment later. They charged the men, while James started shouting, ‘‘Alarm! Raiders in the village!’’
He knew that depending on the makeup of this village, the response to a call of alarm would either be for the men of the village to rush out with weapons in hand, or for doors and windows to be locked down. In the West he knew there would be a dozen men in the streets to meet the invaders in a minute.
Here in the relatively calm East, he wasn’t so sure.
As they passed the first house, he saw a curious face peeking through a window. Again he shouted, ‘‘Raiders in the village!
To arms!’’
The man slammed his shutters, and James could imagine him barring the door as James left the house behind.
Gorath was upon the first swordsman, leaping from hi
s KRONDOR THE BETRAYAL
horse atop the man. James considered that he probably should devote at least one afternoon teaching the dark elf how to fight effectively from horseback.
Owyn, on the other hand, had become quite adept at using his heavy staff from horseback, cracking skulls and breaking arms with quick efficiency.
Within minutes the raiders were on the run, heading back into the woods. James rode to where Gorath seemed poised to give chase, and shouted for him to halt. ‘‘It’ll be dark soon,’’
he said. ‘‘Even with your woodland skill, we don’t want to try chasing a half dozen angry Nighthawks into a dark forest.’’
Gorath said, ‘‘Agreed,’’ and turned to find his horse.
James went to the house that was the obvious target of the raid and dismounted. He pounded on the door. ‘‘Open in the King’s name!’’ he shouted.
Through a viewing slit a pair of eyes, wide with fear, regarded him. The door opened, and Michael Waylander said,
‘‘Squire. What was all that noise about?’’
James said, ‘‘It looks like someone is taking the game to a higher stake. We just chased off a band of Nighthawks coming to see you.’’
Waylander turned pale. ‘‘Nighthawks?’’ His knees went weak, and he gripped the doorjamb to stay on his feet. ‘‘What have I gotten myself into?’’
James said, ‘‘That’s what we’ve come to talk about.’’
Gorath and Owyn tied their horses next to James’s and came to the door as Waylander stepped aside to admit them. It was a modest house, but James noticed at once it was well kept.
There was enough wealth evident in the furnishings and appointments that it was clear Michael Waylander was very well situated for a common worker in a small village. The house, while not large, had three rooms, a bedroom visible through a door, and James saw the bed was a well carved four-poster with a mesh netting and canopy. Through the other door James could see a kitchen. Waylander sat heavily on a chair, and James sat in the other one next to a table.
‘‘Someone wants you dead, Michael,’’ said James. ‘‘Who could that be?’’
135
Raymond E. Feist
Waylander sat back, a look of defeat on his face. ‘‘I’m a dead man.’’
‘‘Maybe not,’’ said James. ‘‘I represent Prince Arutha, and while you’ve obviously irritated some powerful people, the Prince of Krondor is still the most powerful man in this nation after the King. If you cooperate, I may be able to get you under his protection.’’
Waylander stared off into space a moment, as if thinking.
‘‘I’m in over my head. I’ll do whatever I must to get out of this.’’
James leaned forward, and suggested, ‘‘Why don’t you start with what ‘this’ is.’’
‘‘About a year ago, some men came to me from Silden. They had an idea, and I took that idea to Arle Steelsoul.’’
‘‘What was the idea?’’
‘‘The idea was to take control of all the business along the river, from Silden to the small villages in the mountains.’’
‘‘How were they to accomplish this?’’ asked James.
‘‘They said they had connections in the Riverpullers, who had told them the guild was going to raise prices for hauling cargo up the river.’’
‘‘So the guild wanted to raise their rates?’’
‘‘Yes,’’ said Waylander. ‘‘They’re usually cautious about that, because if the rates go too high, merchants start using wagons to send goods north along the King’s Highway.’’
‘‘But if there was a lot of trouble on the Highway, merchants would be forced to use the barges and the Riverpullers,’’ finished James.
‘‘Yes.’’ Waylander nodded agreement. ‘‘These men said that they could ensure the Riverpullers would have no competition.
Then we, Arle Steelsoul and I, would organize the other guilds in Romney and the surrounding villages to stand against the Riverpullers. When things got bad enough, the King would declare martial law, and the Riverpullers would be put out of business.’’
‘‘And what does it matter if some heads get broken along the way?’’ asked Owyn dryly.
‘‘Waylander,’’ asked James, ‘‘what made you think the Riv-136
KRONDOR THE BETRAYAL
erpullers would be out of business if the King declared martial law?’’
‘‘We planned on having Damon Reeves, head of the Riverpullers’ Guild, murdered.’’ He hung his head as if ashamed at this admission. ‘‘I didn’t want that, but by the time they told me of the plan, I was in too deep. They said they’d make it look like Nighthawks did it, so that no blame would fall to us. In fact, they said they’d make it look like someone within the guild did it, to get Reeves out of the way, and the guild would fall apart from dissension within. I’ve known Damon for years; he’s an old friend, but there was nothing I could do.’’
James glanced at Gorath and Owyn. ‘‘Whose idea was it to cast blame on the Nighthawks?’’
‘‘The men from Silden,’’ said Waylander. ‘‘Why?’’
‘‘Just that the notion is familiar to us.’’
Owyn realized James was talking about the false Nighthawks in the sewers of Krondor and nodded in understanding.
‘‘What should I do?’’ asked Waylander.
‘‘Get Steelsoul, get to Romney, and sit down with the Riverpullers and make peace. If you don’t, the Earl will hang you two and Reeves, and start over with whoever replaces you.’’
‘‘The Earl’s never resorted to threats before. Why is he suddenly threatening us now?’’ asked Waylander.
‘‘Because someone just murdered fifty Royal Lancers in his city,’’ answered James.
Waylander’s eyes widened, and his face turned ashen.
‘‘Fifty! Gods of mercy!’’ He gripped the table, and said, ‘‘Who could do such a thing?’’
‘‘Chance has you crossing paths with the Nighthawks, it seems,’’ suggested James. ‘‘And by all appearances they don’t seem all that pleased by these attempts at implicating them in deeds for which they are not responsible. No matter how clever you gentlemen thought you were being, you were being played for fools by agents of a man who is called ‘the Crawler.’
He’s attempting to dislodge the Mockers in Krondor and seems to want to control the docks in the eastern cities, as well. They were not helping you; you were being set up to create a situation where they would emerge in control after you, Reeves, Steelsoul, and anyone else inconvenient to their goals were out 137
Raymond E. Feist
of the way. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Crawler’s agents hadn’t leaked the information to the Nighthawks about your attempting to hang the blame for Reeves’s murder on them.’’
‘‘As if another charge of murder is going to make them any more hunted,’’ Gorath observed.
‘‘True,’’ said James, ‘‘but it’s been my experience that criminals take a certain pride in their own crime, but want nothing to do with blame for crimes for which they are not responsible.
It’s odd, I know, but that’s the way it is.’’
‘‘You talk as if you’ve known a lot of criminals,’’ said Waylander.
‘‘Yes, I do, don’t I?’’ James’s smile lacked even a suggestion of warmth.
‘‘What do I do after I see the Earl?’’
‘‘I suggest you beg for leniency,’’ said Owyn.
James nodded. ‘‘People have died as a result of your choices, and you and Steelsoul have much to answer for. But if you help the Earl restore order and help us uncover those behind this plot, we’ll do what we can to keep you off the gibbet.’’
‘‘Maybe I should just run,’’ said Waylander.
‘‘You won’t reach Silden,’’ said James. ‘‘They would be on you like hounds on a hare, and where would you go, anyway?’’
‘‘I have connections in Kesh,’’ said Waylander. ‘‘If I ca
n get to Pointer’s Head, I can take a caravan over the Peaks of Tranquillity.’’
‘‘Well, don’t do anything rash,’’ said James. ‘‘If my friends and I have our way, the Nighthawks will not be a problem much longer. My advice is to see the Earl, then sit tight. I’ll get word to you when it’s safe.’’
‘‘But what about the men in Silden?’’
James stood up. ‘‘They’re also a problem.’’
‘‘But I only know them by sight and first names—Jacob, Linsey, and Franklin—and they may not even be their true names.’’
‘‘Probably not,’’ said James. He took the spyglass and the silver spider out of his travel bag, and said, ‘‘What can you tell me about these?’’
Waylander said, ‘‘The spider I got from a trader named Abuk. He travels the roads between Malac’s Cross and here, stopping in at Silden each way. I last saw him there, so he 138
KRONDOR THE BETRAYAL
may be on his way toward us right now. He drives a painted trader’s wagon, green with his name in red letters on the side.’’
Owyn winced at the description. ‘‘We can hardly miss that.’’
James’s expression turned dark. ‘‘We found this spider this morning among the bodies of the dead lancers.’’
Waylander said, ‘‘It can’t be the same one, then!’’
‘‘Why?’’ demanded James.
‘‘I bought one from Abuk, but I gave ours to the false Nighthawks who were sent to kill Damon Reeves.’’
James looked at the device, and said, ‘‘There may be more than one, but you’ll need more proof of your innocence than that.’’
Waylander examined the spider, then said, ‘‘Look!’’ He pointed to the groove containing the poison. ‘‘I don’t know what this is, but mine had deadly nightshade in it!’’
Gorath said, ‘‘Silverthorn would be hard to locate this far south.’’
‘‘But not impossible,’’ said James. ‘‘Still, I’m inclined to believe you. What about the spyglass?’’
Krondor: The Betrayal Page 16
