Krondor: The Assassins

by Raymond E. Feist

  A noise in the distance alerted William to the demon’s position. He motioned for the others to wait while he quietly went ahead to reconnoiter. He moved in a crouch, slowly working 308

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  his way down a hall. Before him was a large barracks room, if his memory served.

  He glanced through the door in front of him and could see nothing, so he moved slowly, stopping every few feet to observe the expanded angle of view. As he neared the door, he had a terrible feeling the demon was sitting in one of the two corners beside the door, meaning that William would have to actually look into the room to get a view of the creature.

  Right or left side? he asked himself.

  The demon saved him the decision by moving, the noise coming from the left.

  William put himself hard against the right wall, moving as slowly as he could, crouching low. The creature’s legs came into view first, and William realized that it was sitting on the floor, legs extended, as if waiting.

  Waiting for what? William asked himself silently.

  Then it registered: it was waiting for the sun to go down.

  William was torn between retreating now and calling for the archers, or glancing around the corner to get a better look at the thing. He judged the risk worth the reward.

  He moved slowly, afraid that any sudden motion might catch the demon’s eye. He saw the creature looking away from the door, several wounds visible upon its body.

  He pulled back. Slowly, every step a painful exercise in self-control, he moved away from the room. When he was near the point where his own men could be seen, he held up a finger to his lips, then motioned for the men to move back.

  William had the men fall back to the last intersection they had passed. When he was certain they were far enough back to not be heard, he whispered, ‘‘The demon’s in that room 309

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  ahead. Looks like some of the assassins gave as good as they got. The thing’s bleeding a fair bit.’’

  ‘‘Good,’’ whispered one of the men.

  William said to him, ‘‘Loop around to the south and find Captain Treggar and the others.’’

  The soldier ran off.

  To another man, William said, ‘‘Go fetch the archers, on the double.’’

  The man hurried off.

  William turned to the others and said, ‘‘Be ready, but no man is to speak or make a move until they hear an order from me.’’

  The men nodded and waited, silently.

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  HE archers arrived.

  The six bowmen lined up silently behind William. A little while later, Captain Treggar and his six men joined them.

  ‘‘How lie things, Will?’’ asked Treggar.

  William outlined the situation, drawing in the dust on the floor, to show where the demon waited. Treggar swore. ‘‘It will cost us to ferret him out. The first lads through that door are almost certainly dead.’’

  William said, ‘‘Not if they don’t stop.’’

  ‘‘What do you have in mind?’’ asked Treggar.

  ‘‘Hare and hound?’’

  Treggar smiled. ‘‘If the demon will follow them, the hare can lead him to the stable. Then we can drive him out to the Prince.’’

  William began to strip off his armor. ‘‘Not they, me.’’

  ‘‘You?’’

  ‘‘I know the way. No one else here does but you, captain, and, with respect, I’d wager I’m faster than you are.’’

  Treggar said, ‘‘I remember catching up to you yesterday.’’

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  William smiled. ‘‘For which I’ll be eternally grateful, assuming I live an eternity.’’ He handed his scabbard to one of the soldiers, but held on to the sword. He now wore only tunic, trousers and boots. He motioned for a torch, and was given one by a soldier near the back. ‘‘No time like the present,’’

  William observed.

  William ran down the hall, not pausing as he entered the room in which the demon rested. He made it to the center of the room before glancing backward and was horrified to discover the demon was already after him, a specter of terror, bellowing in anger.

  William still hurt from the struggle the day before and the hard ride with Arutha, but right now his body answered a basic demand: fleeing for his life.

  He ran without hesitation and hoped his instincts would keep him from going the wrong way. Down a long stone corridor, through a large empty room, then into another tunnel he ran, the demon staying with him every step of the way.

  William almost died when he burst into the stable and barely avoided running headlong into a forge. He bounced off the stonework and ducked his head under the metal hood that led to the stonework chimney. Had he struck it and fallen, he knew the demon would have overtaken him.

  He was gratified to discover the demon wasn’t quite as nimble, since a few seconds later he heard the crash of a heavy body against the forge and hood, followed by a scream of frustration.

  William saw the sunlight at the far end of the stable and started the final sprint. It was only a hundred feet or so, but it seemed to take forever to cross that paltry distance.

  He raced into the sunlight, half-blinded by it. Shading his 313

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  eyes for a moment, he saw Prince Arutha and a company of horsemen directly in front of him. Behind him, the creature had come to a halt at the edge of the sunlight.

  The creature might not be particularly bright, thought William, but it wasn’t stupid either. It had recognized the ambush and refused to be baited.

  William turned, pointing his sword. He took a deep breath, then shouted a challenge.

  The demon suddenly bellowed in rage, but it had nothing to do with William’s challenge. Rather, it was being attacked from behind by the six bowmen in the stable who were loosing their arrows as rapidly as possible. It spun around, and William could see three shafts protruding from its back and one from its side, and several minor wounds were also visible from arrows that hadn’t penetrated.

  The creature charged back into the stable and William ran after it. Inside the stable, the demon was standing in the center aisle, while the bowmen kept shooting at it. William saw that only a few shafts that struck square to the creature had gone in. The rest of the arrows glanced off, some shattering against the magically-imbued skin.

  William was almost struck by one. He shouted, ‘‘Stop shooting! You’re going to kill someone on the other side!’’

  The arrows stopped flying. Then William drew back his sword and attacked.

  He swung as hard as he could against the creature’s back, but when the blade struck, the shock ran up both his arms as if he had struck the bole of an ancient oak tree. The demon screamed in pain and rage and turned to make a backhand grab.

  William fell back just in time to avoid being decapitated.

  He rolled to his feet and ran, uncertain as to whether the 314

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  demon was following, or turning its attention to the other soldiers in the stable, but just as he reached the door and sunlight, a crushing blow to his back informed him of the demon’s whereabouts.

  William went sprawling forward, scraping his forearms and hands, then scrambled to get to his feet as quickly as possible.

  A scream from behind alerted him to the fact that someone else was distracting the demon while he made good his escape.

  With a lunge, William staggered upright in time to see a score of horsemen riding straight at him.

  The vibration coming through the solid rock under the earth and the sound of hooves growing louder by the second caused William to glance to either side, seeking escape.

  Given the circumstances, he did the only thing he could do: he stood stock-still an
d prayed that they would ride around him.

  The riders drew up their mounts and leapt from their saddles, the closest rider hitting the ground less than a yard from William. Displaying years of drill, one man in each group of five grabbed reins and led mounts to the rear as the other four drew weapons and stood in a line. They waited until Arutha joined them. At his signal, they charged.

  William hoisted his own weapon, and charged with them.

  The demon had backed the bowmen into the stable, but it turned at the sound of so many new arrivals. The Krondorian soldiers spread out and quickly formed a ring around the demon, using their shields to good effect.

  Arutha shouted, ‘‘When you see its rear, attack!’’

  At the sound of Arutha’s voice, the demon turned and two men behind it dashed forward and struck as hard as they could.

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  It whipped around, and as it did so other men struck from behind.

  Within a few moments, the demon seemed to be spinning in place, its back a mass of bleeding cuts.

  Despite the damage being done, the tactic was not without cost. At least three men had been struck so hard they had been knocked across the room where they now lay dead; and two more were gravely wounded. The demon lashed out to right and left, with no apparent pattern, occasionally slashing a shield or, worse, over a shield into armor or exposed flesh.

  Men cursed and bled, and a few more died, but they continued to fight.

  William poised himself and delivered a spine-crushing blow with his two-handed sword, and was rewarded by the sight of a deep groove fountaining black, smoking blood. The creature spun, slashing at William, who used his sword to parry. Sparks flew as black talons scraped along the steel blade, but as the creature drew back its other hand to strike, it screamed and turned away, distracted by a blow from the opposite side.

  William took a step back, getting ready to deliver another blow when a voice from behind said, ‘‘How goes it, lieutenant?’’

  Recognizing the Prince’s voice, William answered: ‘‘Bloody work, Highness. The creature bleeds, but seems reluctant to die.’’

  Arutha moved to stand next to William, sword at the ready.

  In that instant, there was no doubt in William’s mind that his cousin was no mere court ruler, who wore armor only for state occasions, but an undoubted warrior who had seen more conflicts than most men twice his age.

  Arutha said nothing, but stepped in front of William, pointing his sword at the creature. A small portion of the demon’s 316

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  side, under the left arm, was exposed, and Arutha struck with such swiftness that William was only aware of the strike when the Prince pulled away.

  The demon seemed to freeze for an instant, and then it trembled and screamed louder than before. But rather than rage, the scream was one of terror. The demon faced Arutha, its eyes fixed upon the Prince as if he were the only enemy in the room.

  Instantly those soldiers behind the creature closed in, slashing at its already bloodied and tattered back. But the demon’s fiery eyes were focused solely upon Arutha and it slashed downward with a raking blow.

  Arutha moved back deftly, then slashed with his rapier, and a smoking, dripping groove appeared on the back of the demon’s clawed hand. The demon swung a backhand blow, which caused William to leap backwards, while Arutha simply moved aside a half-pace, then stepped in, slicing the creature across the chest.

  William shouted, ‘‘Your blade! It somehow does more damage!’’

  Arutha said, ‘‘Ask your father about it some time. Right now I’m busy.’’

  The Prince of Krondor was the fastest swordsman William had ever seen, and the demon was not even close to reaching him.

  William joined in with the others, worrying the creature’s flank as he sought to close with the nimble monarch.

  Across the stable floor the bloody dance moved, until the creature was on the verge of entering the light of day. It hesitated, turning to snarl at those on its right, and William took a step back. Then the creature, now clearly weakened, took another step into the light, seeking to close with Arutha.

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  William’s arms and shoulders were starting to knot with fatigue, but still he forced himself to hack away at the creature’s flanks. The demon’s sides and back were a mass of shredded flesh. The fur upon its goat-legs was thickly matted with blood, and they trembled with every step.

  If anything, Arutha appeared to get faster as the demon slowed. His blade flicked in and out, bringing agony to the demon with each thrust.

  Finally the demon staggered a step, then fell.

  Without hesitation, Arutha stepped forward and drove his sword deep into the creature’s neck where it joined the shoulder. He pushed hard, plunging the blade halfway to the cross-guard, then pulling it free.

  With a moan, the creature thrashed, and after a while went still. Smoking blood dripped from Arutha’s blade, and a small flame erupted at the demon’s neck wound. The soldiers who were now surrounding the demon stepped back as the flame spread rapidly, a green blaze that filled the air with the stench of decaying flesh and burning sulfur.

  Most of the men were coughing and a few were retching, but within moments the demon was gone, leaving only a blackened outline of its form on the ground, and a foul stench hanging in the air.

  The Prince’s attending page ran up, ready to do his lord’s bidding. Arutha opened up the bag on the page’s hip and withdrew a wad of bandages. He wiped off the blade, and where the demon’s blood touched the fabric, it blackened and smoked.

  In a conversational tone, Arutha said, ‘‘Tell the men to be careful cleaning off the demon’s blood, lieutenant.’’

  ‘‘Sire!’’ answered William; but every man present had seen the Prince’s actions.

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  Then Arutha said, ‘‘Well, I’ve seen worse messes, but not many and not by much.’’ He looked around the group of soldiers standing ready and said, ‘‘Captain Treggar.’’

  ‘‘Sire!’’ Treggar stepped forward.

  ‘‘Well done, captain. Now, pass the word. We’ve got plenty of work ahead of us. I want squads in the hills in all directions looking for any assassins who weren’t caught up in this carnage.’’

  ‘‘Yes, Highness,’’ said Treggar, turning to give instructions.

  ‘‘Lieutenant,’’ said Arutha.

  ‘‘Highness,’’ William answered.

  ‘‘I can’t fault your bravery, but if I ever see you doing something as stupid as running back into that stable again I’ll have you standing guard over the Princesses’ laundry until you retire.

  We had dozens of men in full armor, and you were wearing none. Not a very bright thing to do, lieutenant.’’

  Blushing under the grime and blood, William said, ‘‘Sorry, Highness.’’

  Arutha gave him a faint smile. ‘‘We all make mistakes. We learn from them . . . if we survive them.’’

  Glancing around, William said, ‘‘I could do without another such as this.’’

  Arutha put his hand on William’s shoulder. ‘‘I was not yet a year into my rule of Krondor when I faced my first demon.

  That victory did not truly prepare me for this fight. Just as this fight will never truly prepare you for the next.’’ Softly, so that William alone could hear, he added, ‘‘You’re never ready, Will.

  You just make it up as you go. All your best plans fall apart the moment combat starts. The good general is the one who knows how to improvise and how to keep his men alive.’’ Raising his voice he said, ‘‘Do you understand, lieutenant?’’

  ‘‘I think I understand, Highness.’’

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  ‘‘Good. Now, let’s see what we can find inside.’’ As Treggar sent out the horsemen to s
cour the surrounding hills, Arutha signaled for a dozen men to accompany William and himself as they searched the fortress.

  As they walked into the bloody stable, William said, ‘‘James should be here. He’s the one who explored most of this place.’’

  Arutha smiled. ‘‘If I’m any judge, James is sleeping soundly now and he’s earned every moment of slumber he can steal.’’

  William nodded. ‘‘He was looking ill-used.’’

  ‘‘As my old horsemaster at Crydee used to say, ‘ridden hard and put away wet.’ ’

  William laughed. ‘‘That would be Algon, sire?’’

  Arutha’s eyebrow rose in question.

  ‘‘Father used to tell us stories of his boyhood in Crydee from time to time, and I’ve heard more than one quote attributed to his teachers. Kulgan supplied a few of the more humorous ones.’’

  Arutha glanced around. ‘‘No doubt.’’ He remembered the acid sense of humor the old magician could employ at precisely the moment guaranteed to cause the subject the most embarrassment.

  They entered the old armory and William again felt as though he would lose the contents of his stomach. Several soldiers did vomit at the carnage.

  Here the demon had done most of its damage. Arutha whispered, ‘‘Black-hearted murderers they were, but no man deserves this.’’

  He didn’t avert his gaze, rather he studied the carnage, as if to fix it in his mind. Blood had been splattered over nearly every exposed surface. Bodies had been torn asunder. Every 320

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  conceivable organ was on display, drawing clouds of flies as the sick-sweet smell of rot began to cloy the air.

  ‘‘When we are done here, I want this place scourged by fire,’’ said the Prince softly.

  William nodded, and turned to two of the men. ‘‘Ride and find whatever wood you can.’’ To two others he said, ‘‘There are jars of oil in rooms to the south; find them and bring them here.’’

  Arutha spied the large tome the high priest had cast aside at the moment of his death and motioned for it to be brought to him.