Shards of a Broken Crown

by Raymond E. Feist

  “I’m not worried about that,” said Arutha.

  “They’d have to risk getting shot to open the gate and let reinforcements in. Besides, if they can afford to strip men away from the defense of Sarth to rescue the men up here, we’ve lost this battle anyway.”

  Suddenly a shout heralded a charge from the stable. Arutha stood shocked a moment, as armed men raced toward the main door of the abbey, a flight of arrows over their heads forcing him to retreat from the door. Many of the attackers went down from answering shots from the abbey roof, but most made it to where Arutha, Subai, and a dozen men crowded the entrance. Arutha met the first man at the door and cut him down before he could step inside. As the man fell, Arutha looked past him to see men risking broken bones by jumping from the parapet, so they could unbar the massive wooden gates.

  “ ’Ware the gates!” Arutha shouted as he struck out at the next man to face him.

  Then the sound of horses could be heard as a company of riders charged out from the barn, attempting to reach the gates as they opened.

  Without hesitation, Arutha shouted, “Follow me!”

  and charged out into the open. He knew that if he could keep the riders from fleeing the yard, he could prevent word reaching Nordan that the abbey was under attack. By denying them the gate, it would break the back of the last resistance in the abbey and force a surrender. Half the garrison was under guard 306

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  in the basements below, and a full hundred lay dead or wounded throughout the compound. The hundred men trapped in the kitchen, the barn, and upon the walls were the only ones left.

  Arutha felt a surge of energy, something akin to joy, mixed with nothing short of terror, as he dodged through the melee, striking up at a horseman who was attempting to engage another Kingdom soldier.

  Arutha’s blade struck a glancing blow, not injuring the rider, but distracting him enough so the other soldier could unseat him.

  Riders were milling around and horses were rearing and bucking, panic rising in the herd as the fighting swirled around them. Arutha glanced to his left and saw Subai signaling his men to fan out and, by pointing, to mount an unguarded set of steps leading to the upper wall.

  Arutha looked toward the gate and saw two men, one wounded, were freeing the bar. He shouted,

  “The gate!” and charged.

  Halfway between the main building of the abbey and the gate, an arrow struck Arutha in the neck, between breastplate and helm.

  For a moment he thought someone had punched him with a fist, for he felt the impact of the blow and his legs go out from under him, but he didn’t feel much pain. Then his vision seemed to contract, as if he were falling backward down a long tunnel, with darkness sweeping in from all sides. Still uncertain of what was happening, Arutha, Duke of Krondor, slipped into a void.

  Subai was halfway to the steps to the top of the wall when he saw Arutha go down and shouted to two of his men, “Get the Duke back here!”

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  The two soldiers raced out in the middle of the fight, managed to grab the Duke, and haul him back to Subai’s position. Subai knelt beside the Duke, but he had seen enough dead men before that he didn’t have to take a second look at Arutha. He considered how ironic it was that this brave man had died in his first conflict, and then put aside all thoughts of the Duke; Subai had a battle to fight.

  Erik signaled to Greylock and the two elements of the Kingdom army charged. Horsemen raced down the main street of Sarth, heading to the Trades Masters’ Hall, the headquarters and final defense of the invaders. So far the retaking of Sarth had gone without a hitch. The entire city defense had been ordered south to deal with Greylock’s center thrust.

  As had been the plan, Greylock stood and engaged, while Erik’s right flank element pushed through light resistance on the treacherous hillside east of the road, and while ships were unloading soldiers at the dock.

  Owen held a stable front, while Erik feigned a flanking attack from the right. The enemy shifted to face Erik, who withdrew just as soldiers under the command of the Duke of Ran struck them from the rear. Within minutes, it was a total rout.

  Many men fled north along the King’s Highway, but a few hundred had barricaded themselves in the large building that dominated the town’s square.

  Erik’s charging column wheeled to the right and flanked the building from the northeast, while Greylock’s men stood on the southwest. Quickly the building was encircled.

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  upper floor, but otherwise the building was sealed.

  Windows and doors on the lower floor had been barricaded.

  Erik turned to Duga, the mercenary Captain who had been among the first to switch sides during the war. “Keep the men back!” he ordered, then he set heels to his horse and rode around to Greylock’s position. “Orders, sir?”

  Greylock was sweating furiously under the midday heat, his hair hanging limply across his brow.

  “I’m lacking patience, Erik.” He rode a little closer to the building and shouted, “You, in the guild hall!”

  An arrow sped from an upper window, missing by a few feet.

  “Damn it! I’m talking to you,” shouted Greylock.

  Erik said, “Let me,” and switching to the language of Novindus, he shouted, “Our leader wishes parlay!”

  After a moment, a voice from within shouted,

  “What terms?”

  Erik translated.

  Owen said, “Tell him, the terms are throw down weapons and walk out, or we’ll burn the building down with them inside of it. They must decide now!”

  Erik translated, and there was the sound of a sudden argument breaking out inside. Then the sound of fighting erupted, and Erik glanced at Owen, who nodded.

  Erik shouted, “Charge!” and from all sides the Kingdom forces rushed the building.

  Erik and Owen were closest, and reached the main door of the building. Erik turned and shouted,

  “Bring a ram!”

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  at smaller doors or attempting to pry window shutters off their hinges. Suddenly the main door opened and a sword flew out, to clatter on the stone street at Erik’s feet.

  “We’re coming out!” shouted a voice from within.

  Erik and Owen stepped away from the door and a group of men came out, holding their swords by the blade. As they came into view of the Kingdom soldiers, they threw the swords to the ground, the Novindus mercenaries’ sign of surrender. Duga came to stand beside Erik. “I know these lads. Most of them are pretty decent fellows if you give them a chance.” Then he saw a few hanging back at the rear and added, “Though a few of them should probably be hung just to improve the air around here.”

  Erik said, “They’re all going to be locked up for a while until we can get them sent back home.”

  Duga said, “Well, even after wintering with you, Captain, I can’t say as I understand how you Kingdom folk think, but then nothing that’s been happening for the last few years makes any sense to me. When this war is done, maybe you can explain things to me.”

  Erik said, “As soon as someone explains things to me.”

  Soldiers entered the building and took out the rest of the invaders. A few were carried out bloodied and unconscious. One of the first to surrender said to Erik and Duga, “That lot didn’t see any point to surrender. The rest of us didn’t see any point in being roasted for Fadawah.”

  Duga grinned. “Nordan will fart flames when he hears this.”

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  The soldier said, “He already did.” He pointed to a man being carried out. “That’s General Nordan.”

  Erik motioned for the two soldiers to take the unconscious general to one side. Owen nodded, a smile of satisfaction on his face. Reports started coming in that the town of Sarth was secure. Owen said, “Erik, take a company up the road and see if the abbey is secured. If you encounter any of the enemy, get back down that road as fast as you can.” He turned to Duga. “You form up a barricade company at the bottom of the road, in case Erik returns in a hurry.”

  Erik saluted, and as he turned to find his horse, Owen said, “Captain.”

  Erik looked back at his old friend. “Yes, Marshal?”

  “Your boys did very well on the right flank. Tell them I said so.”

  Erik smiled. “I’ll tell them.” He hurried to where his horse was being held and turned to find Jadow Shati. To his old companion, he said, “Bring second squad and follow me.”

  Jadow, who looked as if he had just finished a relaxing morning ride, nodded and signaled.

  “Second squad, follow me. The rest of you, help secure the area!”

  Erik led his small company through the town of Sarth. There was occasional fighting in scattered locations, as a few hardcore members of Nordan’s army refused to surrender, but mostly bands of disarmed prisoners being taken to the rear where a compound was being erected to confine them. A few townspeople, who had fled during the fighting, could be seen up in the hills surrounding the city, a few of 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 312

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  the more courageous among them coming down into the town.

  Erik and his men rode eastward, and rather than veering back along the King’s Highway where it turned south, they moved along a smaller road heading upward, into the mountains. Atop the first of these, overlooking the coast, was the Abbey of Sarth, once home to the largest library on the world of Midkemia.

  The horses were tired from the charge through the town, but Erik pushed them, anxious to find out if Arutha and Subai had been successful, or if a force of armed men was poised to strike down at Sarth.

  They had been so successful in retaking the southern end of Fadawah’s holdings, Erik was certain something terrible must happen.

  As they neared the summit, they heard the sounds of fighting from within. The road was narrow most of the way up the mountain, the men riding in pairs.

  At a point thirty yards before the gate, the road widened, allowing the men to spread out. Horse archers were ready and started firing upon the few men they could see on the wall. Erik signaled and a dozen riders dismounted and raced to the gate. They threw grapples up and secured them. Men climbed while the bowmen kept those on the wall busy. As soon as the first wave was across, other men followed, and fighting erupted along the parapet. Erik knew that had there been no Kingdom forces within, his own men would have died, never reaching the walls. A warning shout alerted Erik, and he formed up his men to charge. He gave the signal as soon as the gates began to open.

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  surging battle, with horsemen and men on foot locked in a death struggle. Erik struck at the first horseman he faced, knocking him completely out of his saddle. The abrupt appearance of Kingdom soldiers riding in through the now open gate demoralized the remaining invaders. Quickly they started to back away and throw down weapons in surrender.

  Erik caught his breath and took in the scene around him. Men lay all across the courtyard, as well as a few wounded or dead horses.

  Erik motioned for Jadow Shati to move the prisoners over to the stable. Erik dismounted and led his horse to the entrance of the abbey building. He glanced up at the old keep tower and realized that with proper supplies, this fortress could withstand a year of siege. He counted himself lucky the Prince had agreed to launch the attack as soon as possible, rather than let Nordan get entrenched.

  “Erik!” called a voice. Erik turned to see Captain Subai motioning for him to come over. Erik hurried to the abbey’s main entrance. Just inside the door lay Duke Arutha. Erik glanced at Subai, who shook his head slightly. Softly the Captain of the Pathfinders said, “He tried to keep the riders from opening the gates. If you had arrived a half hour earlier . . .”

  Erik looked at the fallen Duke. He appeared to be asleep. “He fought well?” Erik asked.

  Subai said, “Very well. He may not have been a.

  warrior in life, but he died like one.”

  Erik said, “As soon as we’ve secured the abbey, I’ll send word to Greylock. The Prince must be informed as soon as possible.”

  “Patrick will want to enter Krondor with his new Princess as soon as possible.”

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  “Rillanon?” asked Erik, referring to the rumors circulated to mislead enemies about the Kingdom’s intentions.

  “No need,” suggested Subai. “With Arutha dead, Patrick needs to be in Krondor, with or without a bride.” Looking southward, as if seeing Krondor in the distance, Subai said, “There’s our weakness, Captain. If Kesh learns we are committing all our soldiers to retake Ylith, and have only Duko’s mercenaries along the border, without support troops within the city, they can wreak havoc.”

  Erik said, “Let us hope we can keep Kesh from discovering this before the war in the North is over.”

  Subai looked down at Arutha. “It was his task to see that they didn’t.” Looking at Erik, he added,

  “Now it is someone else’s task. But it is the Prince’s responsibility.” With a gesture, he indicated the Duke’s body was to be carried inside. To Erik he said, “As soon as Greylock has soldiers sent up here to secure this location, my Pathfinders will return to Krondor. We will return the Duke home.”

  Erik nodded. “And I will go north with Greylock.” Erik turned and walked out into the courtyard, to bring order out of chaos and get the situation under control as quickly as possible. They had won a stunning victory, at far less cost than anticipated, and far quicker than they had imagined. Yet there was so very much to do still before them.

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  Fourteen

  Consequences

  JIMMY WEPT.

  Standing at attention on the steps of the palace in Krondor, next to his brother, a step behind the Prince, his tears ran freely down his face. He could not imagine a life without his father. He had known those who fight might die, but his father had not been a warrior. He had studied arms and armor, like every noble in the Kingdom, but his life had been one of administration, diplomacy, and judgment. Only once had he chosen to fight, and that decision had cost him his life.

  Dash had never imagined his father’s return to Krondor would be on a wagon acting as a bier. He kept his features set in an unreadable mask as he watched the wagon carrying his father’s body pass by. A day of mourning had been announced for Duke Arutha and the others who had fallen in retaking Sarth.

  Dash wondered if it was worth it. He didn’t feel anything, save a numb empty place within. Jimmy was expressing his anger and pain, yet within Dash something lay buried. Looking at the the assembled 315

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  nobles and military captains of the Kingdom, all bowing their heads in respect as his father’s body was returned to Krondor, Dash just couldn’t make any sense of it.

  His father had always been such a sensible man.

  He was a decent enough swordsman, at least for practice duels, and he kept himself fit, riding and swimming when the opportunity presented itself, but he had never fought in a military action. Then Dash realized he was thinking in present tense. He had been, from what Captain Subai said, a brave soldier at
the last, but he should never have been allowed to go on that mission. Dash discovered tears forming in his eyes and he blinked them back.

  Duke Arutha had been the practical member of the family. Their mother was always obsessed with the gossip of the royal court in Rillanon, and with long visits back to her own family in Roldem. The boys’ childhood had been dominated by nannies, tutors, and their grandfather, who would teach them how to climb walls, pick locks, and all manner of outrageous behavior. Their grandmother had been a soothing presence and their father had been a rock, a calm, quiet man who had been affectionate and caring in little ways. Dash couldn’t remember a time his father hadn’t greeted him with a warm hug. He recalled the many times he would stand there, one hand upon Dash’s shoulder as if making contact physically was important.

  Suddenly Dash was aware he was mourning the loss of his entire family. His grandparents in Roldem were strangers, for the most part. He had a half-dozen visits to that island kingdom in his childhood—his maternal grandparents only came to 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 317

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  Rillanon once, for his parents’ wedding. His sister was married to the Duke of Faranzia in Roldem and had never returned to the Kingdom for a visit since her wedding. All that remained was his brother Jimmy.

  As the wagon vanished into the stable area, Prince Patrick said, “Gentlemen, the entire nation mourns the loss of your father. Now, if you would join me in council in an hour, please.” He nodded across the courtyard to where Francie stood with her father, and turned and mounted the broad palace steps. As soon as the Prince was out of sight, the rest of the assembled nobles in Krondor dispersed.

  Jimmy took a deep breath, getting his emotions under control, and motioned for Dash to accompany him. They followed the wagon around the central palace to where an undertaker was overseeing the removal of their father’s body from the wagon. Two soldiers gently removed the body of Duke Arutha, wrapped from head to foot in faded linen someone had found in Sarth. The undertaker turned to Jimmy and said, “You are Lord Arutha’s son?”