Krondor: The Assassins

by Raymond E. Feist

  James was below the level of the floor, lying on his stomach.

  He slowly turned over and then sat up even more slowly.

  The room was empty. He got up.

  He was in a guardroom of some sort, with cell doors in three walls. The guardroom door let out into another long dark 252

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  hall. James peered into the nearest cell through a small barred opening in an iron door. A solitary man sat against the far wall, wearing only a white linen breechcloth. ‘‘Hey!’’ James whispered.

  The man’s head came up and he blinked as he tried to make out the features of the man whose head blocked the small window. ‘‘Who are you?’’ he whispered in the King’s Tongue.

  ‘‘James, squire of Krondor.’’

  The man scrambled to his feet and came to the window, where James could see his features. ‘‘I’m Edwin of the Pathfinders.’’

  James nodded. ‘‘I saw them sacrifice your companion a few hours ago.’’

  ‘‘That was Benito,’’ he said. ‘‘They killed Arawan the night before. I’m next unless you get me out of here.’’

  ‘‘Patience,’’ said James. ‘‘If I let you out now and they come and check on you, they’ll know we’re in the stronghold.’’

  ‘‘How many of you are there?’’

  ‘‘Three. Myself and two officers. We’re waiting for the Prince to arrive.’’

  ‘‘So are the assassins,’’ said Edwin. ‘‘I don’t know what they’re planning, but I understand enough of their speech to have some sense they know His Highness is on his way and are preparing a welcome for him.’’

  ‘‘The demon,’’ said James.

  ‘‘A demon?’’ whispered Edwin. ‘‘I knew it was some sort of dark magic . . .’’

  ‘‘I’ll be back,’’ said James. ‘‘If they plan on sacrificing you tonight, that gives me the better part of a day to find a way out of here.’’

  ‘‘I know a way out! They caught me at the eastern edge of 253

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  their fortress. They’ve opened an ancient gate, probably a sally-port. Horsemen could ride through it two abreast.’’

  ‘‘We found another way, a footpath cut deep into the rock next to the ancient main gate. But I can’t figure out how to open it from inside.’’

  ‘‘I can’t help you, squire. What do you plan to do?’’

  ‘‘Tell me first about the entrance you found.’’

  ‘‘There’s an underground stable where they keep their animals, next to an armory. From there a short but large hall leads to a drop-gate across a small dry moat. There are look-out positions, cleverly disguised, along the eastern face of this es-carpment, and anyone approaching that way will be seen long before he reaches the gate.’’

  James considered. The overall layout of the place was coming into focus. ‘‘I’ll be back to get you. How long before the sacrifice will they come for you?’’

  ‘‘An hour. They feed us—me—once a day. That should be in a couple of hours.’’

  ‘‘Eat. You’ll need your strength. We’re leaving before they realize you’re missing.’’

  With bitter humor, the Pathfinder said, ‘‘I’ll be here, squire.’’

  James hurried to the far corridor. He moved quickly along one wall until he came to an intersection, then he vanished into the gloom.

  William and Treggar both drew their daggers at the sound of movement. They had been lost in thought, after talking on and off for a time, when the approaching noise startled them.

  ‘‘Easy,’’ came James’s soft voice in the darkness. A moment later, he lit one of his tapers and said, ‘‘We have a problem.’’

  ‘‘Only one?’’ asked Treggar.

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  ‘‘Big one. The last of our Pathfinders is going to be sacrificed at midnight if we don’t get him out first.’’

  ‘‘Can we get him out?’’ asked William.

  ‘‘Yes.’’

  ‘‘Then we get him out,’’ said Treggar.

  ‘‘It’s not going to be easy. We have no food, water, or horses, and it’ll be at least two days before Arutha gets here—if he even knows where to find us. I’m not sure how many assassins are holing up here, but I’d hazard a guess of at least three hundred, maybe more.’’ James handed the taper to William. ‘‘Hold this.’’

  He drew with his finger in the dust on the floor. ‘‘This is where we are,’’ he said, ‘‘and directly to the east of us is the main center for the Nighthawks, or whoever they really are.

  To the north are some abandoned rooms, storage mostly. I spent a little time crawling around in the sewer—’’

  Treggar said, ‘‘You don’t smell like it.’’

  James shook his head. ‘‘That part of the sewer hasn’t been used for centuries.’’ He drew a rough rectangle around the areas he had outlined. ‘‘We’re in the southwestern corner of the old dungeon. We saw the armory, which they’re using as a temple.

  The barracks seem to have become their commons, probably because the old below-ground kitchens are there. To the north are some empty rooms. To the east is their stable and there’s an old sally-port there they use as their main access.’’

  ‘‘What about the way we came in?’’ asked William.

  ‘‘I checked it again on my way back here. It’s a bolt-hole, but one with a hidden trigger. I suspect it was originally in-stalled that way to keep less faithful members of the Guild of Assassins from departing unexpectedly. The triggering mechanism is located behind a false rock at the last intersection you 255

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  come to before reaching the door. It’s a tricky one; if you open it from the outside incorrectly, you spring a trap.’’

  ‘‘What kind?’’ asked Treggar.

  ‘‘I don’t know, and I wasn’t willing to experiment, but there were cogs and wires connected to the pivots. It’s even rigged to go off if you push the door in the wrong fashion. You push on the bottom, and you’re in trouble.’’

  ‘‘I thought the way you opened it looked pretty awkward,’’

  William observed.

  ‘‘By design. The least comfortable way is the correct way.’’

  ‘‘How did you know?’’ asked William.

  ‘‘Old thieves don’t get that way by being stupid. Smart young thieves listen to them when they reminisce about how brilliant they were at springing traps. I was not a stupid young thief. I listened.’’ He chuckled. ‘‘The door has pivots on both sides, instead of hinges, so it wasn’t designed to be opened like a normal door. After that, I assumed the way you would most wish to open it would be the way most likely to get you killed.’’

  ‘‘What about the original western entrance?’’ asked Treggar.

  James said, ‘‘I couldn’t find a direct route. But I think I found a way up.’’ He pointed to the rubble clogging the western wall of the storage room.

  ‘‘That’s the way up?’’ asked William.

  ‘‘Maybe,’’ answered James. ‘‘The main entrance would be a marshaling yard and bailey around a keep, I’m guessing. So the wall and gate would have stood right above us. There would have been a couple of quick routes from the armory back there—’’ he pointed down the corridor ‘‘—to the yard above us.’’

  Treggar stood and inspected the fall. Most of the rocks were manageable, with large boulders clogging the bottom of 256

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  the room. He picked one and tried to move it. After a few moments’ effort, he got it to move a little. He gave up.

  James said, ‘‘I thought of that. The timbers here are weak.

  Pull the wrong rock and the ceiling comes down on us. There is another corridor leading to a room even more filled with even more rocks to the north of here. So, unless there’s another way up, farther east, the only way out
is through the way we came, or the east gate.’’

  ‘‘Which?’’

  James said, ‘‘The way we came in is easiest, but as soon as they see Edwin the Pathfinder gone, they’ll comb the hills around here. If we take horses from their stable we might be able to steal a march on them. If we reach Arutha before they do . . .’’ He shrugged.

  ‘‘Have you even seen the stable?’’ asked Treggar. ‘‘Do we know how to open the gate? Is it a windlass and ropes? Is there a portcullis? Counterweights? Is it a drop-bridge over a moat or just flat rock on the other side of the doors?’’

  ‘‘Your point is taken, captain,’’ said James.

  ‘‘Besides,’’ said William. ‘‘If we escape and carry word to the Prince, will they still be here when the army arrives?

  Wouldn’t it be easier for them to scatter and just set up somewhere else?’’

  James looked at William and then said, ‘‘Yes, probably.’’ He sat back. ‘‘I need to think.’’

  He extinguished the light and William and Treggar could hear him settle down, his back to the wall. For over an hour the three of them sat in silence.

  Then James’s voice cut the darkness. ‘‘I have an idea!’’

  *

  *

  *

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  James lay motionless in the broken sewer pipe, listening.

  When he was sure there was no movement, he climbed up into the guardroom next to Edwin’s cell.

  He looked in.

  Edwin glanced up and said, ‘‘Now?’’

  ‘‘Now,’’ said James, examining the lock. It was a simple mechanism, very old, and he could have opened it while blindfolded. He reached into his belt-pouch, pulled out a long metal probe and inserted it into the lock. A moment later he heard a satisfying ‘‘click’’ and turned the probe. The lock opened.

  The Pathfinder came through the door immediately and followed James back into the sewer pipe. As they crawled through the darkness, Edwin said, ‘‘They’ll start searching when they find me missing.’’

  James spoke softly as he pulled himself along. ‘‘I’m counting on it.’’

  They reached the end of the pipe and James flipped forward, gripping the lip of the pipe with both hands and landed easily on the floor below. ‘‘I’m below you,’’ said James in a whisper. ‘‘Hang from the pipe and drop. It’s only three feet.’’

  The Pathfinder dropped silently to the stones. James put his hand on his shoulder and whispered, ‘‘From here, silence.

  Keep your hand on my shoulder, for we move in darkness.’’

  James was relieved to discover Edwin was calm and sure-footed in this awkward situation. He neither hesitated nor hurried but followed at even pace, so James was slowed only a little.

  Several times James halted and waited to hear if anyone else was moving nearby. He was pleased that not once did Edwin ask why.

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  When they reached Treggar and William, Edwin finally spoke.

  ‘‘Thank you, James.’’

  James lit a flame. ‘‘I’ve only got four more of these things, so we have to make them last.’’

  Treggar said, ‘‘How did they catch you?’’

  Edwin shrugged. ‘‘They know the land better than we. I took precautions, but there are large areas out there where any movement will be noticed by someone looking for it. Arawan and Benito and I were all caught within a day of one another.’’

  Treggar said, ‘‘I thought the Prince sent four of you south.’’

  Edwin smiled. ‘‘Bruno. He’s still out there.’’

  ‘‘Can you find him?’’ asked James.

  Edwin nodded. ‘‘I can find him.’’

  James said, ‘‘Good. I think I know a way I can get you out, after I steal us some food and water. You wait here.’’ Without another word, James put out the light and vanished.

  ‘‘I hate it when he does that,’’ muttered William.

  Treggar just laughed softly.

  James hugged the wall around the corner from the cook’s sleeping pallet. He had known he was hungry and thirsty, especially the latter, but it had hit him like a sledgehammer as he approached the kitchen. The rest of the garrison would be sleeping through the day, but the cooking staff would be up any minute to prepare the first meal of the new day.

  James peered around the corner and saw the sleeping cook roll over, snoring. Two boys lay a few yards away, dressed in rags. Probably they were slaves purchased in Durbin or stolen from a caravan in the desert. James saw a large waterskin hanging from a peg on the wall nearest what was obviously a well—259

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  a circular brick structure four feet high and an equal size in diameter. It made sense that a garrison of this size would have its own well. Looking up, James saw a hole over the well, and realized that this must be the old shaft up to the central keep courtyard.

  James amended his plan. He hadn’t known about the shaft, and that might make things easier for him. He hurried silently to the well and, jumping up onto its edge, leaned over and put his hand on the opposite wall. He looked up. A hundred feet above was a tiny circle of light. The well still opened to the plateau above!

  The ancient well superstructure had been torn down, with the rest of the fortress, but no one had filled in the shaft.

  Glancing down, James saw a hook with a rope around it, which descended into darkness.

  James took the waterskin. It was full. He saw a pile of empty skins lying next to the well. He hung one of them where the full one had been. One of the boys would likely receive a beating for not having filled it, but that wouldn’t matter much longer.

  In a day or two the boys would either be dead or free.

  James moved silently through the kitchen, lifting bread, cheese and dried fruit. He hurried off, and once he was a short distance down the tunnel, he put everything on the floor. He hurried back to the kitchen and stood again on the edge of the well.

  He climbed up onto the waist-high wall, then flexed his knees and leapt into the overhanging shaft, slapping his hands hard against the walls. It was a tight fit and he had to struggle not to slip into the well below as he drew his knees up quickly and jammed himself into the narrow shaft. He wiggled upward, 260

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  knees and elbows getting rubbed bloody, and dislodged a heroic amount of dirt along the way. The cook would have to be blind not to see it around the well.

  He let himself down as best he could and then let go.

  He fell toward the well below. As he passed the top of the well, he seized the edge. The noise was, in his ears, considerable, but the cook snored on. The jerk on his shoulders felt as if his arms were being yanked from their shoulder-sockets, but he endured the pain and shock. He remembered the last time he had tried something like this, and realized it had been the first time he had faced a Nighthawk, on the rooftops of Krondor the night he had saved Prince Arutha from the assassin’s crossbow. Somehow the experience didn’t get better with time.

  James took a deep breath, then pulled himself out of the well. He avoided dislodging any of the dust he had so gener-ously deposited around the well mouth. He jumped silently beyond the dust, then turned and inspected the mess. He could clearly see where his hands had gripped the top of the bricks.

  He quickly spread the dust around, hoping no one would take a close look at those spots.

  Wasting no more time, he hurried out of the kitchen, retrieved the food and water, and hurried back to where the others waited. Along the way he rubbed each shoulder and decided to avoid trying that trick again.

  As they ate, James said, ‘‘One of two things will happen first.

  Either the cook will notice the mess around the well, or the guards will check on you before the sacrifice and the alarm will sound. I’m hoping for the first.’’

  ‘‘
Why?’’ asked William as he finished his portion of bread.

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  Treggar said, ‘‘Because if they find him missing first, then they’re going to search every room in the place, or at least until they see the mess in the kitchen. If they see the mess first, they’ll investigate, find the prisoner missing, and head outside straight away, thinking he shimmied up the old well.’’

  Edwin said, ‘‘So then, how do we get out?’’

  James said, ‘‘We don’t. You do. Arutha is coming this way with two hundred men-at-arms. But there are at least three hundred here, waiting for him to show up. Someone’s got to warn him and you stand the best chance once you’re free of this fortress.’’

  ‘‘How do you plan on getting him out?’’ asked Treggar.

  ‘‘Through the eastern gate,’’ said James. He reached into a bundle he had carried in with the food and took out a black tunic. ‘‘Try this on.’’ He then produced pants and a black head-cover. ‘‘Just another Izmali fanatic out looking for the escaped prisoner.’’

  ‘‘What are you going to do after I’m gone?’’ asked Edwin.

  James said, ‘‘Someone’s got to be here to open the gate for Arutha. If there are three of us here, that’s three times the chance of someone surviving long enough to do it.’’

  ‘‘Have you even seen the gate?’’ asked Treggar.

  ‘‘From across the hall, while I was hiding in a hayloft.’’

  ‘‘And?’’

  ‘‘Two large wooden doors, iron-banded, opening inward.

  Broad enough to ride out two abreast.’’

  ‘‘How do we keep it open?’’ asked William.

  ‘‘We don’t,’’ said James. ‘‘We keep it closed, until we want it open.’’

  ‘‘I don’t understand,’’ admitted Treggar.

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  James said, ‘‘How many men would you send after the Pathfinder, captain?’’

  ‘‘Every man I could spare. They caught the Pathfinders because they were heading toward this location. On the loose out there, trying to hide, that’s a different story.’’