Jimmy nodded, indicating with a gesture that he and Dash were the Duke’s sons.
The undertaker attempted a compassionate pose.
“The nation mourns with you, young lords. How will you wish to dispose of your father’s remains?”
Jimmy stopped and looked at Dash. “I . . . never
. . .”
Dash said, “What is usual?”
“As Duke of Krondor, your father is entitled to be interred in the palace vault. As the Earl Vencar, he is entitled to be interred in the Royal Palace in Rillanon. Or if you have family estates . . . ?”
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Jimmy looked at Dash, who was silent. Finally the elder brother said, “My family’s estates are this city. But my father was born and raised in Rillanon.
That was always his home. Return him there.”
“As you wish,” said the undertaker.
Dash put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder and said,
“Let’s get a drink.”
“Only one. We need to see the Prince in an hour.
We can get drunk in Father’s memory after.”
Dash nodded as they walked back toward the main entrance to the palace.
Malar Enares was standing before the entrance when they reached it. “Sirs,” he said. “Most regret-table. You have my sympathies.”
The servant from the Vale of Dreams had found a hundred ways to make himself useful around the palace. When Jimmy had returned, expecting to find the servant still under guard, he had been both amused and surprised to discover him working frantically around Duko’s headquarters. He seemed a wonder when it came to organizing, cleaning, and keeping things orderly. He had attached himself to Jimmy again when Duko rode south to take command of the Southern Marches and oversee the sentry forts along the Keshian border.
Malar followed the brothers inside. “May I do something for you, young lords?”
Jimmy said, “If you would bring a bottle of very good brandy to my quarters, I would appreciate it.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” said Malar, rushing off.
Dash and Jimmy walked the long corridors of the palace, now restored to nearly the state they had enjoyed before the destruction of Krondor. Workers still scurried throughout the palace, repainting trim 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 319
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around windows and doors, laying tiles, and hanging tapestries. The rearmost stairs to the upper floors were still in need of repair, but the last of the cracked stones had been removed and replaced by masons, and the soot and fire damage erased.
“Do you remember how this place looked before?” asked Dash.
Jimmy said, “You know, I was just thinking the same thing. I know the tapestries are different, but I’m damned if I can tell you what the ones that hung on the walls before looked like.”
“Patrick’s having all the old war banners from the Prince’s hall remade.”
“It’s not the same,” said Jimmy, “but I can see the reason.”
They reached Jimmy’s quarters and entered. They sat in silence for a minute, then Dash said, “I am so mad at him.” He looked up and his eyes brimmed with tears.
Jimmy’s eyes watered as well, as he said, “I know. How bloody stupid was that? Going off and getting killed.”
“You’ve written to Mother and the aunts?”
“Not yet. I’ll do so this night. I’m still not sure what I’ll say.”
Dash let his tears flow. “Tell them he died bravely. For King and Country.”
“Cold comfort,” said Jimmy.
Dash wiped at his eyes. “He had to go.”
Jimmy said, “No, he didn’t.”
“Yes, he did,” said Dash. “All his life he has been in the shadow of Grandfather, and of the man for whom he was named.”
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will only acknowledge one Arutha of Krondor.” He sighed. “Father will possibly be a small notation somewhere. The man named for a great prince who served admirably as administrator in Rillanon and Krondor. Isn’t there more for him than just that?”
Dash said, “Only to those of us who knew him and loved him.”
Jimmy stood as a knock came at the door. He opened it and found Malar Enares standing there, holding a tray upon which rested a bottle of brandy and two crystal goblets.
Jimmy stepped aside and allowed the servant to enter. Malar put the tray down on the table and said,
“I wish to express my deepest regrets, young sirs.
While having not the pleasure of meeting your dis-tinguished father, I have heard nothing of the man that was not salutary.”
“Thank you,” said Jimmy.
Dash took the decanter and poured drinks as Malar left and closed the door behind him. Offering a goblet to his brother, Dash lifted his and said, “To Father.”
“To Father,” echoed Jimmy. They drank in silence.
After a minute, Jimmy said, “I know how Father felt.”
“How so?” asked Dash.
“No matter how good I am, no matter how high I rise, there will only be one James of Krondor,” he said.
“Only one Jimmy the Hand,” agreed Dash.
“Then, Grandfather would tell us it has nothing to do with fame.”
“He enjoyed the notoriety, though,” said Dash.
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“Agreed,” said Jimmy. “But he gained it from being so bloody brilliant at what he did. He didn’t set out to be the most fiendishly clever noble in history.”
“Maybe that’s what Father knew from the start; it’s just getting the job done and let history decide what history will decide,” observed Dash.
Jimmy said, “No doubt you’re right. Well, we’d better get to Patrick’s office and see what the Prince will decide.”
Dash stood up, adjusted his tunic, and said, “Do you think he’ll make you Duke of Krondor? Eldest son and all that.”
Jimmy laughed. “Hardly. He’ll want someone with more experience in the office, as will the King.”
Dash opened the door. “You’re only two years younger than Patrick, Jimmy.”
“Which is exactly why Borric will want someone older and wiser in Krondor,” said Jimmy as he moved through the door. “Had Father been the Duke of Crydee or Yabon, I most certainly would have gotten the title, with a strong Kingdom advisor on the first ship west, but Krondor? No, there’s too much to be done and too many potential mistakes.” As he moved down the hall, he added, “Besides, there are too many headaches. Whatever Patrick offers me will be better than the office of Duke.”
They hurried along until they reached the side entrance to the Prince’s quarters. Jimmy knocked and the door opened. A page stepped aside and allowed them to enter. Compared to the cramped offices endured in Darkmoor, these offices were spacious. The books and scrolls that their father had ordered hauled to safety were being returned to their appropriate shelves or cubicles. Malar was handing a 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 322
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bundle of scrolls to a clerk. “Lending a hand?” asked Jimmy as they passed.
“One helps where one can,” said the servant with a smile.
They passed into the Prince’s private chambers and Patrick looked up. Standing next to the Prince’s desk was Duke Brian of Silden. He nodded at the brothers. They both knew that Brian and their father had been among the closest of friends at court, and that more than any other noble in the realm, Brian would share their sense of loss.
Patrick sat back in his chair and said,
“Gentlemen, first let me again express my sorrow at your father’s death. His loss is not only to his family and
friends, but to the Kingdom as a whole.” Patrick looked around the room as if seeking something.
“It’s as if I expect to see him at every hand. I know now just how much I’ve come to rely upon his counsel.”
Patrick let out a slow breath close to a sigh and continued, “But we must, as ever, press on. Lord Silden will act as my counselor until the King sees fit to name a new duke in Krondor.” Patrick looked at Jimmy and said, “I know you well enough to know you didn’t expect the office.”
Jimmy shook his head. “Ten years from now, perhaps, but not now.”
Patrick nodded. “Good, because we need you somewhere outside of Krondor.”
“Where, Highness?”
“I need someone dependable to keep an eye on Duko. You seem to get along well enough with him, and I need someone down there who will keep him in line.”
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Jimmy bowed his head. “Highness.”
“I’ve sent a message to my father, Jimmy.
Assume he’ll accept my recommendation that you succeed your father as Earl of Vencar. It’s a lovely little estate and your father would want you to have it.”
Jimmy bowed his head in thanks. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Vencar was where they had been raised. Like many of the estates on the original island Kingdom of Rillanon, it was tiny by mainland standards. A hundred acres of land, with a creek, meadows, and pastures. The tenant farmers had ceased to work the land centuries before as Rillanon had expanded its reach onto the mainland. But for its modest size, it was among the most beautiful estates in the Kingdom. Their grandfather had arranged for it to go to Arutha when the old Earl of Vencar had died without heirs. Jimmy had been born in the palace, as had his sister, but they had moved there when he was a baby. Dash had been born there. It was home.
“So unless my father writes back telling me I’m an idiot, from now forward, you are Earl James.”
Jimmy said, “I thank His Highness.”
Patrick said, “I have a special job for you, Dash.”
“Highness.”
“We have a problem here in Krondor. The army is in the North, and Duko’s swords are down South.
I’ve got the palace guard, and that’s all. The city is returning to life and it’s being overrun by thugs and ruffians, cutthroats and thieves. I need someone to bring order. I think of all those I have around here, you have the most affinity for the city streets. I am appointing you Sheriff of Krondor. Until we can cre-
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ate a true City Watch and Office of Constables, you are the law in the city. Recruit who you can, but keep this city under control until the wars are over.”
Dash said, “Sheriff?”
Patrick said, “You object?”
“Ah . . . no, Highness. I’m just a little surprised.”
“Life is full of surprises,” said Patrick. He indicated some parchments on his desk. “Reports from both fronts. The Keshians retreat before Duko at Land’s End, but are raiding along the eastern front near Shamata. They won’t get too close, for fear of the magicians at Stardock, I think, but they’re harassing our patrols, which are thin to start with. In the North Greylock has consolidated in Sarth and is pushing northward.” Patrick got a concerned look on his face. “Something is not right. The defense along the coast is weak. We know that Fadawah offered up Duko because he was fearful of Duko’s loyalty.
“Now it appears he gave up Nordan in the same way, but by all reports Nordan was his oldest and most trusted ally.”
“Perhaps his hold over his men is less secure than we thought,” observed Jimmy.
Brian of Silden said, “All the reports indicate a difficult winter for the invaders, with many dying of injuries and starvation. But we also have word from our agents that they’re trading with Queg and the Free Cities, food is plentiful, and they’re established in Ylith.”
Patrick ran his hand over his face. “Any word from Yabon?”
“None,” said Duke Brian. “We’ve had nothing since the battle of Sarth. No ships can get past Queg’s pirates to reach the Free Cities. All our ships 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 325
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from the Far Coast were used to support the raid. If word is coming, it is coming by runner, and the chances of a courier getting through the enemy to reach us is thin. Perhaps when we get closer to Ylith, we may hear of Yabon, but for now we must pray the young Duke is able to keep LaMut and Yabon intact.”
Looking at Jimmy and Dash, Patrick said, “Dine with me tonight, both of you, and we’ll discuss your duties. In your case, Jimmy, before you leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” said Dash. “Patrick . . . Highness, I thought we would accompany our father to Rillanon for his funeral.”
“No time, sorry to say. You’ll have to say your own good-byes after supper tonight. Perhaps we’ll hold a little wake after supper . . . yes, that would be fitting. But the requirements of this war don’t permit any of us the luxury for our personal grief or joys. I had to lie to many nobles of the Kingdom about a state wedding, and my intended is not as happy about being married in the ashes of Krondor as she was at the thought of the King’s palace. So we all make sacrifices.”
“At supper, then,” said Dash.
“You are dismissed,” said the Prince.
The brothers bowed and left the Prince’s office.
“Do you believe that?” said Jimmy.
“What?” said Dash.
“That business about ‘we all make sacrifices.’ ”
Dash shrugged. “It’s just Patrick. He never knows when he’s ahead and when he should just shut up.”
Jimmy laughed as they turned the corner toward their rooms. “You’ve got that right. Probably why he 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 326
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was always such a bad card player.”
“Perfect,” said Nakor.
Aleta stood still, but she said, “I feel silly.”
“You look wonderful,” said Nakor.
The young woman stood on a box, a linen sheet around her head and shoulders, otherwise garbed in her normal dress. A sculptor worked furiously in clay, trying to capture her likeness. He had been at it for three days, and stepped back and said, “It’s finished.”
Nakor walked around it while Aleta got off the box and came to look at it. “Do I look like that?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Nakor. He continued to walk around it, and finally said, “Yes, that will do.” Looking at the sculptor he asked, “How long will this take?”
“How big do you want it?”
“I want it life-sized.” Pointing at Aleta, he said,
“The same size as her.”
“Then it will take a month for each one.”
“Good. A month should be fine.”
“Do you want me to bring them here?”
“I want one delivered here, to be put up in the wagon yard. The other one bring to Krondor.”
“Krondor? Mr. Avery didn’t say anything about trucking a statue all the way to Krondor.”
“Do you want to let wagoners put up your statue?”
The sculptor shrugged. “Makes no difference to me, but it will cost extra.”
Nakor frowned. “That’s between you and Roo.”
The sculptor nodded and carefully wrapped up the clay reference piece in oilcloth and moved it to 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 327
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his wagon, outside.
Aleta said, “Am I done now?”
Nakor said, “Probably not, but you don’t need to pose anymore.”
“What is this all about?” she asked, folding up the sheet she had worn. “I’ve felt very silly posing for that thing.”
“It’s a statue of the Goddess.”
“You used me for a statue of the Goddess!” She seemed appalled. “That’s . . .”
Nakor looked puzzled. “Something I don’t understand. But it was the right choice.”
Brother Dominic had been in the corner, observing the entire interaction, and he said, “Child, trust me, this strange man knows things, things he doesn’t understand. But if he knows them, they are true.”
The young woman looked as if that explanation caused her even more confusion. Dominic said, “If Nakor said it’s proper for you to pose for the representation of the Goddess, then it is. Trust me on this.
It’s no blasphemy.”
The girl seemed more reassured by that, and said,
“Well, I have washing to do.”
She left, and Dominic came over to Nakor and asked, “What is it you see in that girl?”
Nakor shrugged. “Something wonderful.”
“Care to be more specific?”
“No,” said Nakor. “Are you coming to Krondor with me?”
Dominic said, “My instructions from the home temple are to accommodate your plans to the best of my ability. If that means accompanying you to Krondor, then I will go.”
Nakor said, “That’s good. Things here will con-
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tinue to operate without me. Sho Pi can oversee the feeding of the hungry and teaching the children. He’s already begun training disciples in the basics of being a monk; the order of Dala is a good place to start, and that will weed out those looking for a free meal and warm bed from those who really want to contribute.”
“When do we leave?” asked Dominic.
Nakor shrugged. “In a day or two. The last detachments of the army will be leaving to journey to Krondor, to join the Prince, and we can tag along as escort.”
Dominic said, “Very well. I will be ready.”
As Dominic left, Nakor turned and regarded Aleta, who was hanging washing on a line across the courtyard. The sunlight struck her from behind, putting a golden nimbus of light around her head for a moment as she stood on her tiptoes to clip the clothing to the line. Nakor grinned. “Something very wonderful,” he said to himself.
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