Krondor: The Assassins

by Raymond E. Feist

  The other realization was that he had lost seven of his twenty men, along with half the servants. By all accounts at 158

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  least two dozen large cats had struck simultaneously, the result being a dozen men dead before they recognized the attack for what it was. Only Prince Vladic’s quick wits had saved the duke, Paulina and Kazamir. He had overturned the table, ordered the others to crouch behind it, and killed everything that tried to come over the top.

  Other details were confused. Some of the servants reported seeing men among the cats, dressed in black, while others made no mention of it. Duke Radswil, Kazamir, Paulina and Prince Vladic all reported they had seen no black-clad men.

  William had decided the duke was too injured to ride all the way back to Krondor, so he decided to send riders to the city, while waiting at the inn for relief. He asked for a healer to be dispatched with additional guardsmen. Sergeant Matthews had managed to staunch the blood flow from the duke’s shoulder wound with a well-fashioned field bandage, but it was still seeping, and the duke was weakening.

  Princess Paulina seemed in need of some sort of help, but William was at a loss as to what to do. She sat silently, wide-eyed, looking more like a frightened child than a young seductress.

  Night was upon them, and William hurriedly inspected the men and horses. They were well provisioned and armed, but of the eleven remaining soldiers—he had sent three to the city—three were wounded. With the two Princes, he had a dozen able-bodied men to defend the inn should another attack be mounted. He couldn’t depend on the innkeeper and his family. Non-combatants could be more of a hindrance than a help in this situation.

  William’s mind was racing when he finished with the inspection and started back toward the inn. All he knew of magic 159

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  was what he had grown up exposed to at Stardock: an organized society of magic users who agreed in principle to study and share knowledge.

  But he had heard stories, often from young students, which he had taken as wild tales of imagination, stories of dark practices and secret rites, conducted by those serving evil powers.

  For every magician who had come to Stardock to be part of something great and wonderful, others had stayed away because of their own distrust, but some had remained apart because of their own dark ambitions.

  Some of the stories told of magicians who sold dark potions and evil talismans to those needing dark arts, and others who served mad gods. Many of the rites whispered about were bloody and vile, and until this afternoon, William had dis-counted those stories as being of the same cloth as tales told around the campfire to scare children.

  But now he had no doubt some of them must be true He found himself inside the inn, lost in thoughts of magic.

  Bringing himself back to the present, he realized two of his soldiers held the man named Sidi under guard. William asked,

  ‘‘Why are you still here?’’

  The hawk-beaked older man said, ‘‘The innkeeper said a well-known trader is due in tomorrow. I thought it safer to travel north with him under the protection of his guards rather than risk the road alone.’’ Glancing at the marks of battle and the servants tending the wounded, he added, ‘‘It seems my instincts were correct.’’

  William felt a hot flush of suspicion and said, ‘‘That man you dined with yesterday, the one who called himself Jaquin Medosa, attacked us.’’

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  If the man knew of the attack he feigned surprise with conviction. ‘‘He was a bandit?’’

  ‘‘No, a magician. And he had friends.’’

  Sidi said, ‘‘I thought as much. He spoke in passing of some sort of power he served, but I thought he was trying to impress me so I might volunteer to pay for his meal.’’ Shaking his head, Sidi said, ‘‘He hardly looked the part of a bandit.’’

  William concluded he had no reason to suspect this man of having a hand in the attack. Had he, it was unlikely he would be sitting idly around the inn.

  Sidi said, ‘‘You were fortunate, lieutenant. I know a little about magic from my travels and without wards and other protections, even a little magic can be very deadly.’’

  William held up his hand, showing the ring James had given him. ‘‘This saved my life. I wore it for a completely different reason, but it warded a spell cast at me just enough to permit me to kill the magicians.’’

  He studied Sidi’s face for a reaction to the news of the magicians’ death, but all Sidi said was, ‘‘Magicians? More than one?’’

  William nodded, but only said, ‘‘They all died.’’

  ‘‘Very fortunate, indeed.’’

  A servant came down the stairs and said, ‘‘Lieutenant, the duke’s wound is worsening.’’

  William started for the stairs, but found Sidi’s restraining hand on his arm. ‘‘Allow me to come with you. I have some modest healing skills.’’

  William hesitated, then nodded.

  ‘‘I have some medicines in my travel bag, in my room.’’

  William motioned for a soldier to accompany Sidi and then hurried to the duke’s room.

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  It was the largest room in the inn, but still small by any standard. The duke lay in a bed, his face pale and covered in perspiration. Sidi entered a moment later with a big leather satchel. Kazamir and Vladic watched as people shuffled around the room to make enough space for the man to reach the duke’s side. Sidi set the bag on the bed next to the duke. He examined the wound and said, ‘‘This is turning morbid. There is something working here that is not natural.’’

  William said in a low voice, ‘‘That which wounded him was not a natural animal.’’

  Sidi paused as if considering and said, ‘‘In my travels I have seen magic wounds that would not heal. Assassins use daggers with potions on them, and certain creatures also can rend flesh that will not heal afterwards. My knowledge of such things is scant, but I have a powder that may slow the damage until you can get him to a temple.’’

  ‘‘Talk to me, man. I’m not dead yet,’’ said the duke.

  ‘‘I apologize, sir,’’ said Sidi. ‘‘I know from seeing you yesterday to be a man of some rank. I fear I am too timid in addressing such an august person.’’

  ‘‘My Lord, Duke Radswil of Olasko, this man is named Sidi, and he says he may help.’’

  ‘‘Do what you can,’’ said the duke, now looking paler by the minute. Then he added, ‘‘Please.’’

  Sidi opened his bag and took out a pouch. ‘‘This will hurt, my lord.’’

  ‘‘Do what you must.’’

  The flesh around the wound was now white and puffy, and the wound itself seeped blood mixed with a thin whitish fluid.

  It stank of mortification. Sidi opened the pouch and liberally sprinkled a green powder over the wound. The duke sucked 162

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  his breath between clenched teeth. Kazamir reached past William and took his father’s hand, and the duke gripped tight, tears forming in his eyes and running down his face.

  After a moment he said weakly, ‘‘By the gods! That burns like a cauterizing iron!’’

  Sidi nodded. ‘‘It is much the same, my lord. The powder burns away infection. It does not always work, but in the past it has helped.’’

  The duke lay back and said, ‘‘I think I’ll sleep now.’’

  The room quickly emptied save for Kazamir who stayed with his father. Vladic took William aside as the others moved down the hall and stairs to the floor below. ‘‘Lieutenant, what is the situation?’’

  William decided that holding nothing back would be the best course. ‘‘We have a dozen swords, and this inn is defensible. Relief should arrive at mid-morning tomorrow, and I’ve asked for a healer to be sent with the soldiers, so your uncle will most likely survive.’’
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br />   ‘‘Assuming we’re alive when relief gets here.’’ He looked at William and said, ‘‘You expect another attack?’’

  William took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘‘I don’t know what to expect, so I’m preparing for the worst.’’

  ‘‘Tell me about the attack. You said earlier you know of magic. What do you know?’’

  William said, ‘‘My father is the Duke of Stardock, and that is where I was raised. I’ve seen a lot and heard more. Those three who attacked us numbered at least one, probably two very powerful magicians of the Lesser Path. The one who lured your uncle . . .’’ William paused, then added, ‘‘Some magicians swear to a totem creature, in exchange for certain abilities. One of those is the ability to take the creature’s shape. The longer 163

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  the magician is in the animal guise the more he thinks like that animal, so this is a dangerous thing to undertake. But the more powerful the magicians, the more powerful the animal. That great black leopard totem tells us the man calling himself Jaquin Medosa was a very powerful practitioner of magic. I think there are those at Stardock, perhaps my father, who might know this man by another name, for a magician of the Leopard Totem who is that adept will have been heard of.’’

  ‘‘Why would powerful magicians seek my death?’’

  William said, ‘‘The reasons to kill a Prince are as numerous as there are ambitious men in your nation, Your Highness. Any of those reasons could be the motive.’’

  ‘‘An assassin?’’

  ‘‘I think so; it is the best explanation I can come up with, unless you have enemies with close ties to magicians. There are others in Prince Arutha’s court who will be better informed on that topic than myself. All I can give you is speculation, and that is of little worth.’’

  The Prince had a distant look. ‘‘You’ve given me a great deal, already, lieutenant.’’ Then he looked William in the eyes.

  ‘‘But tonight?’’

  ‘‘If there were but three of them, we are safe. Even had they survived, they would be too exhausted to hunt us. Summoning that many animals of the totem is a feat that requires days of recovery. That is why there were two of them. The third was there to protect those controlling the animals.’’

  Vladic nodded. ‘‘How is it that you resisted his magic?’’

  William held up his hand. ‘‘This ring protected me.’’

  ‘‘A favorable talisman. But why do you wear it?’’

  William couldn’t avoid blushing. ‘‘Ah, actually, a friend gave 164

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  it to me so I might better resist your cousin’s charms, and keep my mind on my duty.’’

  Vladic gave William a half-smile and said, ‘‘You’ll go far, lieutenant.’’ He looked down the stairs and then said, ‘‘We need to eat. I doubt we’ll have a quiet night.’’

  ‘‘Why, Highness?’’ asked William as he followed.

  ‘‘For those who undertook this elaborate ambush not to have a contingency plan in case the first attack failed would be too much to hope for; we just can’t be that lucky.’’

  William said, ‘‘I agree,’’ and walked down the steps, his mind churning with various different defense plans.

  William had stationed men at every possible entrance to the building. He had removed two men who had tended the horses, assuming that any in the barn would be among the most vulnerable. There were two soldiers at the kitchen door, two at the main door. Both doors were barred with a stout oak timber, though from the look of the iron fasteners on each side of the main door, they would only stop a casual passer-by trying to open the door; the iron was heavily rusted and one good shove would pop the rivets that held them into the wood. There were men at both the downstairs windows. Sergeant Matthews was upstairs standing guard outside the duke’s door, with another man at the window at the end of the hall, overlooking the stabling area behind the inn.

  The remaining six men slept under tables in the common room, in their armor with weapons beside them. William had managed to sleep in armor a time or two during training, but reckoned he would never get the knack of it, or have to be a great deal more tired than he had been when he last tried it.

  He sat at the table where they had dined the day before, 165

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  too keyed up even to contemplate sleeping. He lost track of time, turning over the day’s events in his mind a hundred times.

  He knew he could not have handled things better, yet felt as if he had somehow failed in his duty. A noble of a neighboring nation lay abed upstairs at grave risk, men had died, and he had barely avoided losing everything. He was certain Captain Treggar would have something to say to him.

  His mind wandered and he started to doze where he sat when a movement beside him caused him to start awake. It was the man Sidi, who said, ‘‘I didn’t mean to disturb you, lieutenant.’’

  ‘‘That’s all right. I need to stay alert.’’

  ‘‘If they come, it will be soon. Dawn is but two hours away.’’

  The stranger was correct. Just before dawn was when men were the most sluggish and most commanders took advantage of that knowledge when they could.

  William studied the strange man in the gloom, the room’s darkness cut by only one small candle. ‘‘What do you do, if I may ask?’’

  ‘‘I live in a small village inland from the town of Halden Head, up near Widow’s Point.’’

  William knew of the area, though he had only traveled through there once. ‘‘Rough country.’’

  ‘‘It can be, but it suits my needs.’’

  ‘‘And they would be?’’

  The man shrugged. ‘‘I trade. Items, gems, rare minerals, sometimes knowledge. There are men and other creatures, goblins and trolls, who are willing to sell me things in exchange for other goods I have.’’

  William said sharply, ‘‘You wouldn’t be running weapons, would you?’’

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  Sidi said, ‘‘I have other items trolls and goblins value. One does not have to deal in contraband to trade with them.’’

  William sighed. ‘‘I’m sorry to be so distrustful, but under the circumstances . . .’’

  ‘‘I understand. I was eating with the man who attacked your party. I do dabble in trade that many would look upon with suspicion.’’

  William stared at the door as if expecting someone to break in any instant. ‘‘Are they coming?’’ he asked absently.

  Sidi said, ‘‘We shall know shortly.’’

  They waited in silence.

  Minutes dragged by, then one of the sentries said,

  ‘‘Lieutenant!’’

  ‘‘What?’’ asked William, standing up and drawing his sword.

  ‘‘Movement, outside,’’ said the guard.

  William listened. For moments he couldn’t hear any sounds out of the ordinary, then he heard it. Someone or something was creeping around the inn, probably inspecting the windows.

  Abruptly, the sound of running feet came from outside, then the door exploded inward with a loud crash. There was no need to shout alarm, as men rolled out from under the tables beneath which they had slept, weapons in hand.

  Four men had used a large log as a ram, and dropped it as they surged forward. Weaponless, they hurled themselves at William, Sidi and two other sentries, allowing four armed men behind them to enter the room.

  William kicked an attacker in the groin and cut the man behind him as he turned toward Sidi. Sidi brandished a dagger and was facing down a man who was in the process of drawing out a curved sword.

  Noise from upstairs told William that Matthews was secur-167

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  ing the duke’s room and getting ready for the two who were now rushing up the stairs.

  The armed men proved to be far more difficult foes than the four who had first come
through the door. William’s men had disposed of the latter quickly, but the armed men were advancing warily.

  Each attacker was attired in black, with a loose head-cov-ering that left only the eyes exposed. They wore baggy pants that were gathered at the ankle, tucked into low black boots.

  Their black shirts were tightly fastened at the neck and wrists, and their weapons had all been blackened. William shouted,

  ‘‘Clear the door in case there are archers outside!’’

  The man facing William lashed out with his curved blade, and William took it on his own two-handed sword. The clang of metal upon metal rang out all over the room. His attacker slashed from the other side and William realized he was being measured. William intentionally let his guard lower, anticipating that when the third testing blow came, it would be followed by a furious slash that was intended to cut above his blade and take him across the chest.

  Instead the man’s eyes widened in shock as William’s sword-point took him in the chest. Early on in his training William had realized that most swordsmen consider the longsword a slashing weapon and don’t anticipate the danger from the point. He had developed that skill as much as possible, often using the sword as other men used the broadsword or rapier. As more than one instructor had said, the slash wounds, but the thrust kills.

  The fallen man had barely hit the floor when William saw two men in black hurrying up the stairs. He sped after them, and found them struggling with Matthews and two guardsmen.

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