Prince of the Blood, the King's Buccaneer

by Raymond E. Feist

  Though the most of the dead were already half burned, there wasn’t enough wood close by for a pyre, so Nicholas ordered them buried. By the time they had finished and brought the wagons up, it was midday. The man called Vaja regained consciousness an hour after they found him, and he corroborated Praji’s story.

  Leaving the two wounded men to rest, Nicholas took Calis, Marcus, and Harry on a quick search of the area. Whoever had killed the mercenaries and clansmen had left it completely.

  When they returned, Nakor greeted them with the news that most of the lower storage room Tuka had told them about had survived the fire. Nicholas led a group of men through the smoking char of the inn and found the trapdoor. While it was blackened, it was intact. The Prince lowered himself down into the room and was followed by Tuka, Ghuda, Nakor, and Marcus.

  Harry handed down burning torches to Marcus, then joined them. Nicholas turned and almost fell over the body of a man. He was unburned, but his face was contorted into a mask of pain. Tuka looked at him and said, ‘Shingazi. He must have tried to hide down here when the fire came.’

  Nakor examined him and said, ‘He died from smoke, I think. Not pleasant.’

  ‘There’s a pleasant way to die?’ asked Harry.

  Nakor grinned. ‘Several. There’s a drug that will kill you, but in the last few minutes of life, you’ll experience ecstasy beyond imagining, and then a particularly beautiful woman –’

  ‘Enough,’ said Nicholas. ‘See what you can find down here that might be useful.’

  They searched and suddenly Marcus said, ‘Look at this!’

  Nicholas crossed to the section of the cellar where his cousin waited and there they found an armory. ‘Looks like our host was ready to outfit an army.’

  Nicholas saw stacks of chain mail, unmarked shields, swords of all description, crossbows, bows of various sizes, arrows, bolts, and knives. Nicholas said, ‘Get some men down here and start passing these up.’

  Ghuda broke open a barrel and reached in. Pulling out some dried meat, he tasted it. ‘A little smoky, but not bad.’

  Nicholas turned around and said, ‘Let’s get it all up so we can see what we’ve got.’

  He returned to the trapdoor and Harry gave him a boost up. Leaving the burned-out inn, he heard shouts coming from the wagons. Glancing heavenward, he swore. The voice belonged to the Ranjana.

  Reaching the wagons, Nicholas saw the young noblewoman standing before Amos, hands on her hips in a defiant pose, as she shrieked like a wounded cat. ‘What do you mean, no boats! I am supposed to be in the City of the Serpent River within two weeks’ time –’

  Nicholas said, ‘What’s this?’

  A guard stood nearby, nursing an impressive set of scratch marks on his cheek, and said, ‘I tried to keep her in the wagon, High – er, Captain, but she overheard someone say the inn was destroyed –’

  ‘And came to see for myself what situation you fools have taken me into,’ she finished.

  ‘What we’ve done,’ Nicholas said, his patience nearing an end, ‘was save your life, and your virginity, and your wealth, and put up with your nonsense … Now get back to your wagon!’ The last was a loud shout of anger.

  The girl turned defiantly and strode off, managing to keep her chin up the entire way without tripping. As she reached the back of the second wagon, she turned and said, ‘When the Overlord hears what I’ve had to endure at the hands of a dirty, rude, and barbarous mercenary, you’ll wish you had been born a slave!’

  Nicholas watched her and then turned to Amos. ‘Dirty?’

  Amos grinned. ‘You’re no nosegay, Nicky. None of us are.’

  Nicholas looked at the company and realized they all looked filthy and villainous. He ran his hand over his chin and realized that the beard he had shaved on the Raptor was now a ragged stubble.

  Looking around, he said, ‘Well then, I guess we’ll take some baths.’

  Amos grinned. ‘If you say so, Captain.’

  Groaning in disgust, he pushed past Amos and shouted at those men carrying goods out of the inn, ‘Find out if there’s any soap down there.’

  A supply of clothing had been found in the basement along with the other goods, and most of their ragged, filthy clothing had been replaced. It was an odd assortment of items, from men’s plain trousers and tunics, to a few items of fashion, richly appointed. Ghuda and Tuka both surmised the more expensive items were things either left behind or used as security against room and board by those short of funds. From the look of things, Shingazi had been a soft touch or in love with odd fashions.

  Nicholas ordered the discovered clothing washed to rid it of the reek of smoke, and then for the men to bathe before changing. In the late afternoon heat, the clothing quickly dried on lines tied between the wagons. By sundown, all the men had bathed, and those who were inclined had shaved or trimmed their beards.

  One thing that pleased Marcus was the discovery that another longbow was counted among the many weapons. By the time the men were cleaned and ready, Amos and Harry approached carrying a charred ironbound wooden chest. ‘Look what we found,’ said Amos.

  They opened it: it was filled with small pouches. Nicholas opened one to discover gems. Others contained jewelry, silver, and gold. ‘We’re rich,’ said Harry in awe.

  Nicholas took one of the bags of gold and carried it over to where Praji and Vaja rested in the shade of a wagon. Both men had eaten and were now dozing. Praji stood as Nicholas approached and Nicholas tossed him the bag. ‘For you.’

  Praji listened to the sound of coins as he hefted the bag and said, ‘What for?’

  ‘I could use two men who knew their way around the City of the Serpent River.’ He pointed to the bag. ‘You keep that, for your trouble and to help you on your way, whatever you decide, but we’re a new mercenary company and we have no one but that little wagon driver who knows his way around down there. And we can always use a couple of men smart enough to avoid getting murdered when everyone else around them couldn’t.’

  Praji glanced down toward his friend, who was half-asleep and said, ‘Well, we’re not fit for traveling on foot as is; Vaja will be all right by the time we reach the city by wagon. But one question …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Are you for the Overlord or against him?’

  The expression on the man’s face showed it was an important question, and Nicholas said, ‘Neither; we have other matters of importance. But from the presence of that Red Slayer’s helm back there I suspect we may find ourselves on the other side of the battle lines once they’re drawn.’

  Praji rubbed his bearded chin as he said, ‘Well, we’ll ride along with you, and by the time we reach the city we’ll have a better take on one another. We’re not inclined to sign compacts until we’ve seen more of you. Fair?’

  ‘Fair,’ agreed Nicholas.

  Then Praji grinned, which was a scary sight, and said, ‘Now that the Overlord’s on my list, I can’t very well help anyone who’s with him, you see?’

  ‘List?’ asked Harry.

  ‘I’ve got this list, see, and when someone does me dirt, I put his name on it if I can’t sort him out on the spot. I’m not saying I’ll be able to settle accounts with everyone on it, but I never forget.’

  Harry was about to comment when Calis appeared suddenly, jogging into camp from the south. He had been scouting all day, and when he reached Nicholas, he said, ‘We’ve got company.’

  ‘Where?’ asked Nicholas.

  ‘Four, five miles down the river. A company of riders, twenty-two by my count. They’re armed to the teeth and know how to set out sentries. Regular soldiers wearing black tunics and carrying a banner, a black flag with a golden serpent on it. It looks like they’re breaking camp and getting ready to ride at sundown.’

  Praji had been leaning against the wagon. ‘Those are the Overlord’s. Damn far from the city for regulars.’

  Nicholas signed for Ghuda and the others to join him, and when he had shared Calis’s intellig
ence, asked the mercenary, ‘What do you think?’

  Ghuda shrugged. ‘I’ve seen enough bloody double-crosses in my life, and half of them in the last two days; I expect they’re up here to find the wagons, kill the “guilty”, rescue the princess, and ride home in triumph.’

  Praji said, ‘Are you saying all this was a setup of some kind?’

  Nicholas said, ‘If I told you the wagons had been attacked by clansmen, what would you say?’

  There was a brightness in the man’s eyes that spoke of a quick wit. ‘I’d say the clans were trying to cause major trouble for the Overlord’s treaty with the northern trading alliances. Which would surprise no one. What would surprise everyone would be that they’d be so dumb about doing it publicly, especially leaving witnesses.’

  ‘And what would you say if someone told you all the clansmen were found killed?’

  ‘That’s tricky,’ answered Praji. ‘Depends on who killed them. If it’s the Overlord, they –’ He interrupted himself. ‘If it could be made to look like there was some sort of falling out, it would drive the clans apart.’

  Ghuda said, ‘How secure is the Overlord?’

  Praji shrugged. ‘There’s been talk of rebellion for twenty years. He’s still there.’

  Nicholas said, ‘Well, we’ve walked into a fight that’s not ours, but those on either side won’t care about that, so we’d better get ready to fight.’ Glancing around, he said, ‘If those soldiers are another part of this plot, they’re going to expect sixteen clansmen with those wagons, so I want sixteen men on the wagons. Drive them back over the ridge.’ He pointed to Calis. ‘I want you to head south again, and when you see the riders approach, I want you to shoot a shaft into the courtyard as a warning; can you do it without hitting anyone there?’

  Calis gave him a look that said he needn’t have asked. Nicholas pointed to where he wanted him stationed, and then turned to Ghuda. ‘I want you to stay here with me, with some men lying in the courtyard. Those soldiers will expect to see corpses spread around, so we won’t disappoint them. When they reach the wagons, we’ll be behind them.’ Ghuda nodded. ‘Amos, you’re in charge of the wagons. Once you’re over the ridge, build some campfires down the ridge so the riders will see the light in the sky, but not the fires. And built them so that the riders will be looking into them as they crest the ridge. I want them outlined against the flames when we come up behind them.’ Amos saluted with a smile and motioned for the wagons to be hitched up.

  Nicholas said, ‘Harry, you take the girls down by the river, in the tall grass, and keep them out of sight and quiet.’

  Brisa said, ‘What about me?’

  Nicholas said, ‘Go with Harry. If the Ranjana makes a sound, you can go back to killing her.’

  Brisa grinned. ‘Thanks.’

  Soldiers and sailors jumped into action and Nicholas said to Praji, ‘If you’re going to help, better move your friend out of harm’s way. He doesn’t look like he’s ready to fight.’

  Praji said, ‘He’s not, but I am. I’ll put him in one of the wagons, and ride with your ugly friend there.’

  Amos looked over his shoulder and feigned an injured look. ‘Ugly?’

  Those stores that had been carried out into the courtyard were quickly hidden out of sight as the wagons were driven off. By the time the sun was lowering beyond the horizon, Nicholas had everyone in place.

  He chose to lead those in the courtyard himself, and lay waiting for the signal. As time passed, he found that his left foot was throbbing a little. He was irritated by it more than pained, and he pushed it from his thinking as he reviewed his plan of attack, looking for any flaws.

  He became so lost in his thinking that he was startled when a single arrow landed in the center of the courtyard with a thunk. Instantly he was alert. The sound of riders could be heard, and he gripped his sword tightly.

  The sound of horses’ hooves upon the ground grew louder, and then the company of soldiers was riding into the clearing south of the inn. A man swore. ‘Where are those damned wagons?’

  ‘I don’t know, Captain. They should have been here by now,’ said another voice.

  A third said, ‘Look, Captain, there’s a glow in the sky; there are fires on the other side of that ridge.’

  ‘Those lazy bastards couldn’t travel the extra quarter-mile!’ said the voice that Nicholas knew belonged to the man the second speaker had addressed as ‘Captain’. ‘Well, we’ll do what we came for.’ He heard weapons being drawn, and then a half-grunt, half-yell as someone drove his horse forward.

  Nicholas waited only a moment for them to leave the inn behind, and he was on his feet. Softly he said, ‘Now!’

  His men were up and running, and those with bows took up position in the road. As he hoped, when the riders crested the hill, they were clearly visible against the glow of the campfires.

  ‘Now!’ shouted Nicholas, and the bowmen let loose with a flight of arrows. Amos’s men did the same from the other side, and before they knew what happened, half the horsemen were falling from their saddles.

  Those without bows shouted and charged, and the horsemen, who had been confident of finding sixteen probably drunken and inexperienced men at the wagons, were now being attacked by thirty battle-trained soldiers and sailors.

  One rider attempted to charge back down the hillside, and he was taken from his saddle by a long arrow. Nicholas glanced behind and saw Calis hurrying up, notching another arrow.

  Then the captain on the ridge ordered a charge and the remaining nine horsemen rode for their lives.

  Two more were taken from their mounts by bowfire, but the others rode low over the necks of their animals. ‘Shoot the horses!’ shouted Nicholas. ‘Don’t let anyone escape.’

  The sound of steel against steel told Nicholas that some of the men who had fallen were not dead, and had come to their feet ready to fight. The first rider bore down upon those in front of Nicholas, and he got ready to take the charge in turn. Practicing against a horseman who knew the intended target was his Prince’s son was one thing. This was quite another, and Nicholas knew it.

  Nervous sweat ran down his back, and he felt the grip on his sword grow clammy. He flexed his knees, and as the charging horseman closed, he held his sword high, in a cavalry pose.

  To stand before a charging horse and rider with only a broadsword was foolish, Nicholas knew. Had he a bastard-sword such as Ghuda carried or even a heavy falchion, he could risk taking the horse’s legs out from under him while avoiding the rider’s attack. But with a broadsword, he had to attempt to get the horse to shy or change course, while protecting himself from both animal and rider.

  As the rider bore down on him, the horse screamed and its front legs collapsed. The rider was thrown forward; like a trained acrobat, he attempted to take the fall on his shoulder and roll. Someone in the gloom had shot the horse or struck it with a blade.

  The rider landed heavily, and let out a painful-sounding grunt, but he scrambled to his feet. Nicholas charged. As the man lurched upward, Nicholas drove his shoulders into him. The man cried out in pain and Nicholas surmised he had broken something in the fall. Lashing out with his sword, Nicholas took the man in the arm and the soldier’s sword fell from limp fingers. He scrambled backward and turned to flee. Two of Nicholas’s men ran up and grabbed the soldier, driving him to the ground, where they quickly had his hands tied. Nicholas had ordered prisoners if possible.

  He glanced around and saw the fight was over.

  Nicholas ordered a campfire built and then checked on his own men. The surprise was so effective that not one of them suffered worse than a shallow cut on the arm, and that man looked embarrassed at being the only one. The rest suffered only bruises, muscle pulls, or sprains.

  Nakor inspected the wounds of the two prisoners and reported to Nicholas, ‘The captain may live, though his arm wound is deep, and he has broken ribs, but the other man will certainly not. It’s a wound to the stomach, and the man ate before the attack, he to
ld me. He’s an experienced soldier and asked for a quick death.’

  Nicholas shuddered and saw that Ghuda nodded. ‘Belly wound’s a bad way to die.’

  ‘Is there anything you can do?’ asked Nicholas of Anthony.

  ‘If I had all my usual herbs and other curatives, perhaps, but even then it would be tricky. A healing priest might save him with prayers and magic, but out here, with what I have, no. There’s nothing I can do.’

  Amos took Nicholas by the elbow and took him out of earshot of the others. Lowering his voice, he said, ‘Nicky, I’ve not said a word to you since you’ve taken command, because by most standards you’ve chosen to do the right thing, and what mistakes you’ve made were not the sort even an experienced leader could have avoided. But now you’ve got to understand some of the harder choices of your rank.’

  ‘You mean I have to let Ghuda kill that prisoner?’

  ‘No, I mean you’re going to have to kill them both.’

  ‘Crowe,’ said Nicholas with resignation.

  ‘What?’ asked Amos.

  ‘It’s a story my father told me, of the ride north during the time the Brotherhood of the Dark Path invaded the Kingdom, before he found you and Guy du Bas-Tyra in Armengar. They were being tracked by a party of Black Slayers.’ He closed his eyes. ‘A man named Morgan Crowe, a renegade, spied them out, and Father had to order him killed.’ He shook his head. ‘He said that of all the men whom he had to pronounce punishment on, that was the hardest.’ Looking into Amos’s eyes, he said, ‘I don’t even have the pretense of right by law here, Amos. This isn’t the Kingdom, and this man isn’t trying to kill me because of anything more than an order given him by his master. He’s not a traitor to my King the way Crowe was.’