Shards of a Broken Crown

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Shards of a Broken Crown Page 16

by Raymond E. Feist

“The bubble. A thought came to me while watching these children and I needed to ask you some-

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  thing.”

  “What?”

  “That story you told me, of when you, Tomas, and Macros went back to the dawn of time, remember?”

  “I could hardly forget that,” replied Pug.

  “You said there was this gigantic explosion that launched the universe outward, didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know if I put it exactly like that, but yes, that’s basically what happened.”

  Nakor laughed and did a tiny dance for a minute.

  “I have it!”

  “Have what?”

  “I have been wrestling with a thought since you told me that story, years ago. Now I think I understand something. Watch the boy as he blows a bubble.” He turned to the boy. “Charles, again, please.”

  The boy obliged by blowing a single large bubble. “Watch it expand!” insisted Nakor. “See how it grows larger!”

  “Yes,” said Pug. “What is the point?”

  “It’s a drop of soapy water, but you force air inside, and it grows! It gets bigger, but the content of the water droplet is the same. Don’t you see?”

  “What?” asked Pug, genuinely perplexed at Nakor’s latest revelation.

  “The universe! It’s a bubble!”

  Pug said, “Oh . . .” He paused. “I don’t see.”

  Using his hand, Nakor made a curving motion, as if describing a sphere in the air. “The stuff of the universe, it was blown outward, like the soap bubble!

  Everything in the universe, is on the surface of the bubble!”

  Pug stopped a moment, considered what he 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 170

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  heard, then said, “That’s amazing.”

  “Everything is moving away from everything else at the same speed! That’s the only way it’s possible.”

  Pug was genuinely impressed with the insight.

  “Now, what does it mean?”

  “What it means is we now have a clue as to how things in the universe work. And that might give us a better understanding of what it is we do in the middle of this universe.”

  “On the surface, you mean.”

  “On the surface,” conceded Nakor.

  “Then what is in the middle?” asked Pug.

  Nakor grinned. “The void. That grey stuff you talk about.”

  Pug paused. “That would . . . make sense.”

  “And when you create a rift, you bend the surface of the bubble!”

  Pug shook his head. “You just lost me.”

  “I’ll explain it all to you some other time. Now, if I could just figure out how the Hall of Worlds figures into all this. . . .”

  Pug said, “You’ll think of something, I am certain.”

  Nakor said, “You had a reason to visit with me?”

  “Yes, I need your help.”

  Nakor said, “Children, continue playing.”

  “Who are these children?” asked Pug as Nakor led him back into the temple.

  “The sons and daughters of people who live nearby, people who are attempting to rebuild their ruined homes and businesses, but who have no place for their children while they do. We give them a safe place to leave the children rather than let them run the streets.”

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  “And when the businesses are rebuilt, the children will return to help their parents.”

  “Correct,” said Nakor. “In the meantime, we build some nice credits with people who will be inclined to help us out along the way. Skilled tradesmen, for the most part.”

  “You’re really committed to this Temple of Arch-Indar, aren’t you?”

  “I’m committed to getting it built,” said Nakor.

  “After that?”

  Nakor shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll leave this to someone better able to run it than myself. It’s not really my calling. If it were the Temple of the Lost God of Knowledge, maybe, though I think I’ve had enough of Wodar-Hospur’s handiwork for a lifetime.” He referred to the magic codex which he had possessed for many years, an artifact which had given him incredible knowledge and power, but which had also threatened his sanity.

  “What then?”

  “I don’t know. I think I’ll move on.”

  They reached Nakor’s office and Pug closed the door behind them. “Are you thinking of leaving Sho Pi in charge?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s . . . heading for a different path, though I’m not sure what that might be.”

  “Someone else?” asked Pug as he sat.

  Nakor nodded. “I’m not sure, but I think I may know who.”

  “Care to enlighten me?”

  “No,” said Nakor with a grin as he sat down. “I might be wrong, then I would look foolish.”

  “Heaven forfend,” Pug said dryly.

  “Now what sort of help do you need from me?”

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  Pug explained the situation with the Saaur to the north, then finished by saying, “Patrick wants me to deliver an ultimatum, and if they refuse to depart from the Kingdom, he’s ordered me to destroy them.”

  Nakor frowned. “Tales of your powers have been circulating for some years, my friend. I thought it but a matter of time before someone in authority attempted to bend you to their cause.”

  “I’ve served the Kingdom without orders before.”

  “True, but you’ve never been under the authority of an impetuous boy before.”

  Pug sat back in his chair, and said, “I’ve never considered myself under anyone’s authority since coming to my power. As a Great One of the Tsurani Empire, I was outside the law, subject to no authority save my own conscience and a mandate to do what was best for the Empire.

  “Since returning to Midkemia, the crown was content to leave me alone, to let me conduct my business down in Stardock as I saw fit. King Borric, and King Lyam before him, were satisfied knowing I would do nothing to cause harm to their realms.

  Now, about this ‘go destroy our enemies’ order of Patrick’s, I’m not sure what’s best to do.”

  Nakor pointed at Pug. “You’ve lived on another world, Pug. That boy up in the castle has barely spent more than a couple of years of his life off the island of Rillanon. You’ve been a slave and a man beyond the law of the land, you’ve labored in a kitchen and you are afforded the rank of Duke.

  You’ve traveled in time.” Nakor smiled. “You’ve seen a lot of things.” He lost the smile. “Patrick’s a scared boy, but he’s a scared boy with a bad temper 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 173

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  and an army who will obey him. That’s a dangerous combination.”

  “Maybe I should go to the King.”

  Nakor said, “Perhaps, but I’d save that option until you’ve talked to the Saaur and seen if you can convince them to leave.”

  “Would you consider coming with me? You have a wonderful knack for knowing what to do in unusual situations.”

  Nakor was silent a moment, then said,

  “Preventing the death of many would be a good act.

  Yes, I’ll come with you. But you could do me a favor, first.”

  “What?”

  “Come with me.”

  Pug stood and followed Nakor out of the office.

  In the far corner of the large hall Sho Pi and a pair of acolytes were in discussion. Nakor shouted, “Sho Pi, you keep an eye on the children. I’ll be back.”

  He took Pug through the streets toward the castle, but short of where they would normally turn to approach the main drawbridge of the castle, they turned and followed another street down
toward a burned-out section of the city. Reaching a checkpoint, they were halted by a pair of guardsmen, wearing tabards of the Baron of Darkmoor. “Halt,”

  said one in a bored tone of voice.

  Nakor said, “This is Pug, Duke of Stardock, on a mission for the Prince of Krondor.”

  “Sir!” said the guard, coming to attention. He might not have seen the magician before, but every soldier in the West knew of him by reputation and he looked the part.

  “We need to commandeer a score of prisoners for 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 174

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  a work detail,” said Nakor.

  “I’ll fetch some guards to accompany you,” said the sentry.

  “No need,” said Nakor, holding up his hand. “We can take care of ourselves.”

  He motioned for Pug to follow and hurried by before the guard could object. Pug said, “We’ll be fine.”

  They entered an area of a half-dozen city blocks, razed by fire and catapults, where the prisoners of war were being kept. Nakor found a large boulder and climbed atop it. He shouted in the language of Novindus, “I need some workers.”

  A few men nearby looked over and one or two continued to pay attention, but no one came near.

  Nakor waited a moment, then climbed down. “This isn’t working. Come along.”

  He hurried deeper into the milling camp of men.

  On all sides dirty and hungry-looking mercenaries sat in idle conversation. As he moved deeper into the press of men, he said, “I need some carpenters, cartwrights, wheelwrights, wagon makers!”

  One man said, “I used to be a carpenter, before I was forced to fight.”

  “Can you turn a wheel?”

  The man nodded. “I can shave spokes, too.”

  “Come with me!”

  “Why should I?” said the man. He was in his fifties, grey-haired, and looked filthy and miserable.

  “Because you’ve got nothing better to do, have you? And you’ll get better food and you’ll get paid.”

  At that the man said, “Paid? I’m a prisoner.”

  “Not anymore, if you want work. I’ll make you a priest of Arch-Indar.”

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  “Who?” asked the man in confusion.

  “The Good Lady,” said Nakor impatiently. “Now, just come along and say nothing.”

  The exchange was repeated a half-dozen more times, until Nakor had selected seven men with the required experience. Several others had come forth, but lacked the requisite skills. When they had returned to the pair of guards manning the exit, Pug said, “I’m taking these men with me. They have skills I need for a project.”

  “Begging your pardon, my lord,” said the senior guard, “but this is highly irregular. We have no orders.”

  “I’ll take full responsibility,” said Pug. “I’m on a mission for the Prince.”

  The senior soldier exchanged glances with the junior, who shrugged. The first soldier said, “Well, then, I guess it’s all right.”

  They led the prisoners back to the temple, and Nakor shouted as they entered, “Sho Pi!”

  The first of his disciples hurried over. “Yes, master?”

  “Get these men some food and some clean clothing.” He glanced back, and added, “After they take baths.”

  Sho Pi nodded. “I will, master.”

  “Then send a message to Rupert Avery and tell him his workers are waiting for him.”

  Pug said, “Workers?”

  Nakor nodded. “Roo’s going to start up a little wagon-building enterprise as soon as we return to the camp in the morning and get him some lumbermen.”

  “Lumbermen?” asked Pug.

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  Nakor grinned. “I’ll explain it all as we travel.”

  Pug returned the smile.

  Nakor said, “One favor more.”

  “What is that?”

  Nakor lowered his voice. “I strongly urge you to require the Lady Miranda stay behind.”

  Pug said, “Miranda can take care of herself.”

  “I fear not for her competence, but rather that well-demonstrated temper of hers. You are going in harm’s way, even if the risks are minimal. She might not react well to a threat.”

  Pug said, “I doubt she’d cause another war, but I see what you mean.” He was thoughtful for a moment, then said, “I think I’d like her to visit Tomas and see how things are to the north, anyway.

  We’re getting almost nothing from Crydee or Elvandar, and if we’re going to be moving quickly to retake Ylith, knowing how the struggle for Yabon goes is vital.”

  “She has the means to travel there?”

  “There are some ‘tricks’ my wife is capable of that you and I need to learn. She can transport herself without patterns or devices.”

  “That would be very useful.”

  Pug said, “You and I, I’m sorry to say, will be traveling by horse. I can fly, but not if I’m carrying you along.”

  Nakor said, “It’s better than walking.”

  Pug laughed. “You have a wonderful capacity to see the good in most situations.”

  Nakor said, “It helps at times.”

  “I’ll send word when I’m ready to leave. Two more days, I think.”

  “I’ll be ready,” said Nakor as Pug left.

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  Eight

  Preparations

  DASH SIGNALED.

  The guards at the sentry post waved him and his companions forward.

  Dash, Gustaf, and Talwin had trudged along the road for three days, not catching sight of anyone, save for what they took to be a roving bunch of bandits late the second afternoon. Duko had pulled back his forces to just outside of Krondor, so the patrols that had caused the brothers so much difficulty just a few weeks earlier were now nonexistent.

  The nearest soldier said, “Who goes there?”

  Dash answered, “I’m Dashel Jamison, Baron of the King’s Court.”

  Gustaf and Talwin exchanged surprised glances at that, but said nothing. They knew something odd had gone on while they were prisoners of the Mockers, and that Dash had spent time alone with their leader, but beyond that they only knew the young man was leading them away from captivity and toward what they hoped would be a warm meal, clean bedding, and employment.

  “Gar!” shouted the first soldier to the second.

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  “Go get the sergeant!”

  The second soldier started up the road at a trot, toward the distant lights of the Kingdom’s forward encampment. Dash and the others halted before the first soldier. The man stood in awkward silence a long minute, then said, “If I might ask, m’lord . . .”

  “What?” said Dash.

  It was obvious the soldier was curious how a noble of the Prince’s court could end up in such disreputable attire with questionable company late in the day on the wrong side of enemy lines, but he restricted himself to asking, “Would you like some water?”

  “Yes, thank you,” answered Dash.

  The soldier passed over a water skin and Dash drank, handing it to Gustaf, who then gave it to Talwin. Dash said, “I think I’ll sit,” and he moved over to the side of the road and sat.

  His companions joined him. They sat in silence, ignoring the curious sentry.

  A short time later a group of riders approached from the Kingdom camp, leading three horses. A sergeant jumped down from the first horse, handing the reins to the sentry, and said, “Baron Dashel?”

  Dash stood up and said, “That’s me.”

  “Captain von Darkmoor is at the forward location and is waiting for you and your companions, sir.”

  The three men
rode with the escort a scant mile up the road to Erik’s camp. He was waiting outside his headquarters tent and said, “Dash! Your father will be pleased to hear you got back in one piece.”

  “What of my brother?” asked Dash as he dismounted.

  “He arrived about a week ago; he and Owen hur-

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  ried off to see the Prince and your father. Come inside.”

  Erik gave instructions to a soldier to find a place for Gustaf and Talwin to spend the night, and once inside his command tent said, “Hot food is on the way.”

  “Good,” said Dash, sitting heavily in a camp chair next to a large map table. He glanced at the map and said, “Getting ready to assault Krondor?”

  Erik shook his head. “We may not have to, if your brother’s message from Duko is not some sort of lie.”

  “Message?”

  “Jimmy got himself captured and was turned loose by Duko, bringing an offer to Patrick.”

  “What sort of offer?” asked Dash.

  “Duko wants to change sides.”

  “You could have fooled me,” said Dash. “I was stuck on a work detail for a few days and he’s rebuilding Krondor as fast as he can.”

  An orderly arrived with two wooden bowls filled with hot stew, simple by any standard, but the smell of which set Dash’s mouth to watering. Behind him came two other soldiers, one bearing cheese and bread and the other two large mugs of wine.

  Dash set to, and after the soldiers left, Erik said,

  “You’d better fill me in on what you saw.”

  After a few chews and a swallow, Dash said, “I got caught by Duko’s men and put to work in a gang.”

  Erik said, “Interesting. They caught Jimmy coming into the city and took him for questioning.”

  Dash said, “I was already in the city and looking like a rat catcher, so they must have assumed I had 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 180

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  just avoided capture for a while. I don’t know, but that would make sense. For all that Duko’s doing there, it’s still pretty confusing in places.”

  Erik nodded. “So you were in a work gang.”

  Dash took a sip of wine. “Yes, until I got out with three other men. We slipped into one of the sewer culverts under the outer wall and headed into the city. That’s when we got grabbed by the Mockers.”

 

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