‘‘I’ve missed you,’’ she said, her eyes glistening. ‘‘I know it’s bold of me to say that, but I did.’’
William face flushed. He glanced down at his ale as he said,
‘‘I’m glad you did. I . . . thought about you a lot while I was gone.’’
She glanced around the room to see if anything needed her attention. Her father waved at her, indicating she should take a few minutes and talk to William.
‘‘So,’’ she said, ‘‘tell me what brave things you’ve done.’’
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He laughed a little. ‘‘Stupid is more like it, given the aches and bruises I’ve picked up.’’
‘‘You were wounded?’’ she asked, her eyes widening with concern.
‘‘No,’’ he laughed. ‘‘Nothing needing more than cleaning and a dry bandage.’’
With a feigned look of anger, she said, ‘‘That’s good. If you were gravely injured, I would have to avenge you.’’
‘‘You would?’’ he asked, laughing.
‘‘Of course,’’ she responded. ‘‘I was raised by the Sisters of Kahooli, remember.’’
He said nothing, just smiled, while enjoying the moment, eating his food and gazing at her pretty face.
Arutha had been up all night. It was evident to James the moment he walked into the Prince’s private chamber. From the look of him, William had also been up all night, but James suspected the reason was as different from the Prince’s as could possibly be; William’s inability to keep a smile from creeping over his face every few seconds provided an obvious clue.
Amos looked his usual self: keenly observant and enjoying any excuse for humor.
Arutha waved James to a chair and said, ‘‘I trust you’re recovering from your many abuses of late?’’
‘‘Enough that I feel life is worth living again, sire,’’ answered James, sitting down.
‘‘Good, because there are a few things that need your immediate attention.’’
Looking around the room, Arutha said, ‘‘Amos, I’ve trusted you with my life more times than I care to remember. William, you are a member of my family. That’s why I am telling you 357
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this. A while ago I gave James the responsibility of establishing an intelligence corps.’’
‘‘About bloody time,’’ said Amos with a grin. ‘‘He’s the sneak-iest little bastard I’ve ever met, even if I do love him like the son I pray I never have.’’
James looked at Amos and said, ‘‘Thank you, I think.’’
‘‘I wouldn’t mind a son,’’ Amos mused aloud. ‘‘I might even have one or two out there I’ve not met yet—’’ he looked at James and laughed ‘‘—but if I do, I’ll drown him myself the moment he reminds me of you, Jimmy.’’
James replied dryly, ‘‘If you do have a son, I’ll have to remember that and help him escape.’’
‘‘Enough,’’ said Arutha. The Prince’s usual demeanor was replaced this morning by an even deeper edge, and both Amos and James fell silent. Arutha said, ‘‘No one outside this room is to know this. I include you two for several reasons. The first is if anything happens to me, you’ll be able to inform my successor of James’s special status. If Lyam sends someone as regent before Prince Randolph is of age, for example.
‘‘The second is that if anything happens to James, I want people who are in place to whom his successor can report.’’
He glanced around the table. ‘‘We three,’’ he said to Amos and William.
‘‘Successor,’’ said James with feigned trepidation. ‘‘I hope you mean should I retire.’’
‘‘I mean if you’re dead,’’ said Arutha coldly. ‘‘Some time in the next year I expect you to have recruited enough agents that you’ll be able to identify one you think almost as canny as yourself.’’
Amos laughed.
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work out a means for that person to identify himself to one of the three of us at the appropriate time. Also, I command you keep your agents as ignorant of one another as possible.’’
‘‘Yes, Highness,’’ said James. ‘‘I’ve already considered a system that will allow me to have several agents and keep them unaware of each other.’’
‘‘Good,’’ said Arutha. ‘‘And I have some thoughts on the matter as well. Finally, there’s one other person who will know you’re in this position: Jerome.’’
James barely held his groan in check. ‘‘Jerome! Why, Highness?’’
‘‘Master de Lacy will be retiring soon, and Jerome is the logical choice to succeed him as Master of Ceremonies. You will need funding for many of the things you wish to undertake, and the Master of Ceremonies’ office has discretionary funds for a variety of reasons. Jerome will provide you with the resources you need, subject to my approval.’’
James sat back, obviously not happy, but willing to accept the wisdom of the Prince’s choice.
‘‘Now, to the matter at hand. The scribes have completed their translations and we now know who was behind the attacks on Prince Vladic.’’
‘‘Who?’’ blurted James.
‘‘His uncle, the duke.’’
William said, ‘‘But he and his son were almost killed in the first attempt, sire.’’
Arutha said, ‘‘It may be that the attack went wrong, or someone else has a separate agenda, because we also found a warrant for the death of Duke Radswil and Kazamir, unfortunately.’’
James asked, ‘‘Are there any signatures to these warrants?’’
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‘‘No,’’ said Arutha. ‘‘That would make things too easy, wouldn’t it? The warrants all end in more of those cryptic phrases. Perhaps someday we’ll deciper them and know who the author of the orders is. But for the time being, we have no clear-cut proof of who’s responsible.’’
‘‘What are you going to do?’’ asked Amos.
‘‘Put the duke and his son and daughter under guard, call it ‘protective custody,’ and ship them back to Olasko, with a long letter under my personal seal to the duke’s brother. My only concern in this is preventing war between the Kingdom and Olasko. I’ll leave Olasko justice to the rule of Olasko; the archduke can decide who’s closer: his brother or his son. He can also worry about who put out the order for his brother’s and nephew’s deaths.’’ Arutha sighed. ‘‘I will certainly welcome the moment they leave Kingdom soil.’’
James said, ‘‘What of the Nighthawks? Have we finished them?’’
Arutha sat back, a look of futility passing over his features for a moment, then he said, ‘‘We’ve wounded them gravely, but they still have agents out there. I think there is someone above that priesthood, one from whom they took orders.’’
‘‘The Master,’’ agreed James. He had recounted to Arutha every detail of his experience with the priests before the demon escaped.
‘‘But it may take them years to recover,’’ observed Amos.
‘‘We can hope. Still, I want our new intelligence service looking for clues as to the whereabouts of remaining Nighthawks as well as any agents for Kesh, Queg, or anyone else, for that matter.’’
‘‘I’ll start today,’’ said James.
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‘‘How long do you think this will take?’’ asked Amos playfully. ‘‘A week or, maybe, two?’’
James said, ‘‘Years, Amos, years.’’ Looking at Arutha he said,
‘‘And I suppose I’d better change my ambitions from Duke of Krondor to Duke of Rillanon.’’
Arutha laughed. ‘‘Yes, I suppose you had better, if you’re going to build a network in the east some day. But not this week, all right?’’
James grinned. ‘‘Not this week, Highness.’’
Arutha said, ‘‘We have much work ahead of us, but right now I have to go outrage a duke and ruin an otherwise lovely day for a Prince.’’
‘‘One thing, more, if I may, Highness,’’ requested James.
‘‘Yes?’’
‘‘Could you persuade Her Highness to host another of her galas, soon?’’
Arutha had been about to rise, and at this request he sat down again. ‘‘Why, squire? You take no pains to hide the fact you would rather be crawling through the sewers than attending one of Anita’s soireés.’’
William cleared his throat and said, ‘‘Ah, Highness, it’s my request, actually. James said he’d ask on my behalf.’’
‘‘I don’t understand,’’ said Arutha, looking from soldier to squire.
James said, ‘‘William would like you to confer an award upon Captain Treggar, and then introduce him to some young ladies from good families.’’
Arutha looked at William and said, ‘‘Why?’’
William blushed and said, ‘‘He’s really a good officer, and he acted with great courage and . . . well, he saved my life.’’
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‘‘That does warrant notice,’’ said Arutha, nodding in agreement.
‘‘And maybe an estate,’’ suggested James. ‘‘It doesn’t have to be a big one, just a little one with a bit of income.’’
Amos started to chuckle. ‘‘Why not a title, too?’’
James nodded. ‘‘Court squire should be enough.’’
Arutha said, ‘‘What are you plotting, you two?’’
Amos’s laughter exploded. ‘‘Can’t you see! They want to get the captain married off!’’
‘‘Married?’’
William sighed. ‘‘It’s the other junior officers, sire. They made me promise I’d come up with a way to get Captain Treggar out of the unmarried officers’ mess.’’
Amos’s laughter redoubled and James and Arutha joined in, while William sat uncomfortably waiting for an answer.
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ENCOUNTERS
m
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EAGULLS squawked overhead.
The royal dock was busy as James and his three companions hurried to a ship at the far end, making ready to depart. Ships in the harbor were weighing anchor, leaving on the evening tide. Several at the outer break-water were unfurling sails and getting underway; others were being towed away from anchor by longboats, under the direction of the harbormaster and his pilots.
James, Graves, Kat, and Limm reached The Royal Leopard, and halted. At the bottom of the gangplank, two guards saluted as the Prince’s squire was greeted by Amos.
‘‘Admiral Trask, may I present my companions?’’ James said formally.
Amos grinned. ‘‘As if I didn’t know them already.’’ He nodded to Ethan Graves and Limm and came to take Kat’s hand.
‘‘I understand you have a baby on the way?’’ he said with a solicitous smile.
‘‘Yes,’’ she said as she blushed slightly.
James smiled and winked at Graves. As long as he had known the female thief, he’d never seen her embarrassed.
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‘‘Well, my dear, we have a cabin set aside for you and your husband. The lad can bunk in with the cabin boy.’’ He led her up the gangplank.
James said, ‘‘Farewell, Kat!’’
She turned and waved, and Ethan said, ‘‘We’ll be along in a minute.’’
James said, ‘‘Limm, I need to talk to Ethan in private.’’
The boy-thief said, ‘‘I thank you, then, my very good squire.
I am in your debt for life, sir.’’
James tried not to laugh at the ridiculously formal, if heart-felt, wording. ‘‘Get along, Limm, and enjoy your fresh start.
Remember, Durbin is nothing like Krondor, and it will be very tempting to slip back onto the dodgy path.’’
‘‘No need to worry, squire, sir. You are my hero and I will pattern my life after yours. If you can rise above thievery and knavery, so can I.’’
‘‘I’ll keep him on the straight and narrow, Jimmy,’’ said Graves with a laugh. ‘‘Now get along with you.’’ He gave Limm a playful slap to the back of the head as he ran aboard.
James waited until the boy was up the gangplank, then motioned Graves away from the two guards. He reached into his tunic, held out a pouch and said, ‘‘Here.’’
‘‘I can’t take your gold, Jimmy. You’ve done too much for us already.’’
‘‘You’ll need it to get started. Consider it a down-payment.’’
Graves nodded. ‘‘I understand. Thank you.’’ He took the gold and put it in his tunic.
‘‘Amos says he knows two men in Durbin he trusts with his life. He’ll tell you how to get in touch with them. One is a shipfitter, and the other is a supplier of foodstuffs. Both will be able to carry messages to Kingdom ships.’’
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Graves said, ‘‘I’ve broken two oaths already. What makes you think I won’t break my oath to you?’’
James shrugged. ‘‘Nothing, except that I know you, Ethan, and know why you broke those oaths. I could warn you about the Prince’s wrath reaching out to find you, even in Durbin, but that’s pointless. You’re as fearless a man as any I’ve known . . .’’ He paused for a moment, then added, ‘‘. . . when it comes to his own safety.’’
Graves glanced up to the deck where Amos was doing his best to charm Kat and Limm. ‘‘I understand,’’ he said, his expression darkening and his voice turning cold.
James shook his head. ‘‘No threat to them, Ethan. On my oath.’’
Graves relaxed.
‘‘All I mean is . . . responsibility changes us,’’ said James.
‘‘Look at me!’’ He grinned.
‘‘Some things will never change about you, Jimmy the Hand,’’ said the former basher, returning the grin. ‘‘What are you going to do with Walter and the others?’’
‘‘Nothing,’’ said James. ‘‘I’ll drop by their hiding place in the sewers tomorrow and tell them it’s safe to come out. They’ll think they’re working for me, but I know those two like a dog knows ticks. They’d sell me out if they thought they could get a coin or two for doing it.’’ James looked thoughtful. ‘‘Besides, I think the Upright Man is about to make an unexpected reappearance and those who will be back in the bosom of the Mockers before Mother’s is rebuilt. No, it’s men like you I’m going to need, Ethan, and that’s going to take a while, for men like you are scarce.’’
‘‘Thanks again,’’ said Ethan, extending his hand. ‘‘It’s rare to get a second chance in this life; a third is a miracle.’’
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‘‘Well, maybe Ishap had different plans for you than you’d thought.’’
Graves nodded. ‘‘Evidently.’’
‘‘When you get to Durbin, start a nice little inn somewhere, perhaps close to the garrison and the governor’s palace. The sort of place off-duty soldiers and minor government function-aries drink. Keep your prices reasonable and listen to everything. ’’
Graves said, ‘‘I’ll see what I can do.’’
‘‘Get aboard, then,’’ said James. ‘‘I have some business to finish today.’’
He watched as Ethan climbed the gangplank, then as Amos ordered the gangplank pulled in and lines cast off. The crew jumped to carry out his orders, as the harbor pilot in the bow called down instructions to the longboat crew to pull The Royal Leopard away from the quayside.
James took one last look at his old friend Ethan, then turned away and started back along the royal dock. He had long-term ambitions, and some day he would have agents within the palace of Great Kesh’s Empress, but for the moment he was ec-static that he had won Graves’s cooperation in establishing a ri
ng of agents in Durbin. It would be the first test of his model.
Graves would have Limm contact the two men Amos had identified, who would then be the conduit for messages traveling via Kingdom ships calling at Port Durbin.
As he left the docks, James saw Jonathan Means waiting for him. The young constable nodded in greeting.
‘‘Did you find him?’’ asked James.
‘‘Yes, squire. He’s got that little shop at the end of the jetty, the sign of an anchor and two crossed oars. He’s a chandler.’’
‘‘Did you talk to him?’’
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‘‘No,’’ said Jonathan. ‘‘I watched from a distance to make sure the shop was open, then came here.’’
‘‘Good,’’ said James. ‘‘Get back to your regular duties. And make sure you thank your father for finding out that this man was back in the city.’’
Jonathan left and James considered what to do next. Lacking a better choice, he picked the bold one and made his way to the shop Jonathan had described.
As he reached the shop with the sign of the ship’s anchor over two crossed oars, James’s mind raced as he debated what to say. He hesitated for a moment, then opened the wooden door, causing a tiny bell to ring.
A man of middle years, but with gray hair bordering on white, turned as James entered. He was heavy-set, but not fat.
His brow furrowed a little and he said, ‘‘I’m about to close, young sir. Can your business wait until morning?’’
James said, ‘‘Is your name Donald?’’
The man nodded, and he leaned upon the counter. Behind him sat items common to any chandler’s shop in the Kingdom: barrels of nails, tools, coils of rope, anchors, and other fittings.
‘‘I’m Squire James, of the Prince’s court,’’ he said, pausing to see if there was any reaction.
The man displayed none. Finally he said, ‘‘I know the royal purchaser, lad. Now, if he didn’t send you, tell me why you’re here so I can go home and get off my feet.’’
James smiled. The man wasn’t remotely daunted by his mention of the Prince, as James had suspected he wouldn’t be. ‘‘Actually, my business is more in the area of law enforcement, these days.’’
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