Shards of a Broken Crown
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“Is there anything else?” asked Vasarius.
“One suggestion,” said Roo.
“What?”
“Consider that when this war with Fadawah’s invaders is over, there will be many opportunities for profit. But not if a war erupts between Queg and the Kingdom. Both sides have suffered from the invaders’ intrusion into the Bitter Sea, and more war would bleed us all white.”
“Agreed,” said Vasarius. “We are not ready to fight a war.”
“That’s not the point. The point is when you’re ready to fight one, it still does neither side any good.”
“That is for us to decide,” said the Quegan.
“Well, if you don’t see it my way, at least consider this: there is going to be a great deal of profit in rebuilding the entire Bitter Sea after the war with Fadawah is finished, and those who aren’t fighting are going to be able to reap most of it. I could use associates in many of the undertakings I’ll be contemplating.”
“You have the effrontery to suggest an association, after I made that terrible mistake once already?”
“No, but if you should someday choose to make it, I will listen.”
Vasarius said, “I have heard enough. I will return to my cabin.”
“Think on this, then, my lord,” said Roo as the Quegan walked away. “There will be a great many men needing transport across the sea to Novindus, and there are few ships able to carry them. The fees for such transport will not be trivial.”
Vasarius paused the briefest instant, then contin-
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ued walking, until he disappeared down the ladder to the main deck and the cabins below.
Roo turned and looked out at the star-filled night, watching the whitecaps on the water. “I’ve got him!”
he whispered to himself.
Jimmy felt as if someone had kicked in his ribs.
It hurt to breathe and someone was tugging at his collar. A distant voice said, “Drink this.”
Something wet touched his lips and he felt cool water fill his mouth and he drank reflexively.
Suddenly his stomach knotted and he spewed forth the water, convulsing as strong hands held him.
His eyes were stuck shut. His head rang and his back felt as if his spine had been hammered by a mace; his trousers were fouled with his own excrement. Again water was forced between his lips and a voice in his ear said, “Sip slowly.”
Jimmy let the water trickle slowly down his throat, a few drops at a time, and this time his stomach accepted the bounty. Other hands picked him up and moved him.
He passed out.
Sometime later, he woke up again, and found that a half-dozen armed men had set up a camp. One sat near by and said, “Do you feel up to drinking some more water?”
Jimmy nodded and the man brought him a cup of water. Jimmy drank and suddenly was terribly thirsty. He drank more, and after the third cup, the man took away the waterskin, saying, “No more. For a while at least.”
Jimmy said, “Who are you?” His voice sounded dry and distant, as if it was being used by a stranger.
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“My name is Captain Songti. I recognize you.
You’re the one called Baron James.”
Jimmy sat up and said, “It’s Earl James now. I got a new office.” He glanced around and saw the sun was rising in the east. “How long?”
“We found you an hour after sunset. We had been preparing to make camp a short distance from here, and as is my practice, I had a rider sweep the perime-ter. He saw your campfire. When we rode over to investigate, we found you lying there. There was no blood, so we thought you might have sickened on food.”
“I was poisoned,” said Jimmy. “In wine. I drank little.”
The Captain, a round-faced man with a short beard, said, “A fine palate. It saved your life.”
“Malar wasn’t trying very hard to kill me. He could have cut my throat easily enough.”
“Perhaps,” said the Captain. “Or he could have fled against our arrival. He may have been gone only minutes before we arrived. He could have heard us before we saw him. I don’t know.”
James nodded, then wished he hadn’t. His head swam. “My horse?”
“There are no horses here. You, your bedroll, a low burning fire, and that empty cup you held, that was all that was here.”
Jimmy held out his hand. “Get me to my feet.”
“You should rest.”
“Captain,” Jimmy ordered. “Help me stand.”
The Captain did as he was bid, and when Jimmy stood, he asked, “Have you some extra clothing you can spare?”
“Alas, no,” said the Captain. “We are but three 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 354
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days from Port Vykor and ready to return.”
“Three days . . .” Jimmy said. He said nothing a moment, then said, “Help me walk to the creek.”
“May I enquire why?” asked the Captain.
“Because I need to bathe. And wash my clothing.”
The Captain said, “I understand, but we would do well to return to Port Vykor as quickly as possible, so you may recover in comfort.”
“No, because after I bathe I have other business.”
“Sir?”
“I need to find someone,” said Jimmy as he looked down the southeastern road, “and then I need to kill him.”
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Sixteen
Deception
ERIK FROWNED.
Owen swore. “We were taken like bumpkins at the fair.”
Subai, still covered with road dirt and exhausted from days of nonstop riding, said, “Patrick was correct. They let us have Sarth, and while they were taking LaMut, they built that.”
“That” was an impressive series of earthen barricades running from a steep hillside that was impossible to scale by anything less surefooted than a mountain goat down to the cliffs overlooking the sea.
The woods for almost a thousand yards had been cleared, with low stumps left to confound any attempt at organizing a cavalry charge. The only break in the structure was a huge wooden gate across the King’s Highway, easily as big as the northern city gates in Krondor.
The first hundred yards rolled down to a tiny creek which crossed the roadway, and from that point to the barricade the terrain rose steeply. To charge that position would be to invite serious casualties, and any attempt at wheeling a ram would be 355
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undercut by the need to force the device uphill. The breastwork was built up to six feet in height, and as Erik could see helmets reflecting the sun behind it, he assumed steps had been built up behind so that archers could fire down upon anyone charging up the slope.
Erik counted. “I see at least a dozen catapults back there.”
Subai said, “That’s a nasty piece of work.”
Greylock was forced to agree. “Let’s talk about this.”
They moved away from the forward position, past the arrayed companies of Kingdom soldiers ready to attack if the order was given. In a clearing a hundred yards behind the front lines, they gathered. Owen said, “I don’t see any easy way through that.”
Erik said, “Agreed, but what has me worried is how many more positions like that we may face as we travel up the coast to Questor’s View.”
Owen said, “We might ask our guest.” He indicated a position to the rear where General Nordan and some other key captains of Fadawah’s army were being guarded. Most of the captives from Sarth were still under guard in that town, but the officers were accompanying Greylock’s command
company.
Owen and the others walked over toward a pavilion being erected for the officers and waved the guards near Nordan to bring him over.
Nordan reached the tent just as table and chairs were being placed for Greylock to sit. He did so, letting Erik and the very tired Subai also sit, but he kept Nordan standing. “Now,” Greylock said, “how many of these defensive positions can we expect between here and Quester’s View?”
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Nordan shrugged. “I do not know. Fadawah did not see fit to keep me informed of what was occurring behind my lines.” He glanced around. “If he had, I wouldn’t be standing here talking to you, Marshal. I would be over there, behind the breastwork.”
“Sold you out, did he?” asked Erik.
“Unless he has some masterful plan to swoop down on the back of a dragon and carry me back to Ylith, apparently.”
“Duko told us Fadawah feared rivals for command of the army.”
Nordan nodded. “I was sent to Sarth to watch Duko more than I was to achieve any sort of secondary defense here in the South.” He glanced around.
“May I sit?”
Owen waved for a chair to be brought over, and when it was, Nordan sat. “Once the assault on Krondor was underway, I was going to ride down, watch a bit of the battle, ride north, and make a decision on fortifying the town or withdrawing north.
You neglected to assault Krondor, so of course, I never got to make that decision.”
“Lord Duko thought a change in allegiance seemed propitious,” said Subai. “Without his cooperation, we never would have taken Sarth so easily.”
“Lord Duko,” said Nordan, as if weighing the sound of it. “He is now a Kingdom man, then?”
“That he is. He has command of our southern border with Great Kesh,” replied Greylock.
“Would it be possible,” asked Nordan, “for another such accommodation to be made?”
Owen laughed. “Duko had an army and a city to offer. What do you bring to the table?”
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Nordan said, “I was afraid it would be something like that.”
“Well,” said Erik, “If you think those on the other side of the barricade would surrender on your word, we might be able to find sufficient incentive to make your future here more pleasant.”
“Von Darkmoor, isn’t it?” asked Nordan.
Erik nodded. “You know me?”
“We were looking for you long enough when your Captain Calis took his Crimson Eagles and turned renegade. We knew of the one who looked like a Long Lived, and we knew of the big young blond sergeant who fought like a demon. The Emerald Queen may have been a servant of darkness, but she had clever men among her officers.”
Nordan grew reflective. “Kahil was one of her men, yet he managed to insinuate himself into Fadawah’s trust. I am Fadawah’s oldest companion.”
He looked at Erik. “You served with us long enough to know how our ways differ from yours. A Prince is an employer, no more worthy of loyalty than a merchant. To a hired sword, he is but a merchant with more gold.
“Fadawah and I began as boys, from nearby villages in the Westlands. We joined Jamagra’s Iron Fists and started fighting. For years we served together, and when Fadawah started his own company, I was his subcaptain. When he became a general, I was his second-in-command. When he met the woman known as the Emerald Queen and swore dark oath to her, I went along.”
Subai looked at Erik, who nodded, and said, “I think we need to know of this man, Kahil.”
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met him when she sent for Fadawah and arranged for him to take command of her forces. I thought it strange that she would seek us out when she already had commanders, but the money was good and she proposed conquests that would do nothing but make us rich beyond imagining.
“Kahil specialized in sneaking inside of cities before we attacked them, gathering information and sowing discord among the populace. He spent more time with the Emerald Queen than anyone save Fadawah, and those men she called her Immortals, the men who willingly died in her bed to feed her hunger.”
“You knew of that?” asked Erik.
“You hear things. You try to ignore anything that distracts you from the task at hand. I was her sworn Captain, and until I either was released from duty, captured or killed, I would not betray her.”
“Understood,” said Erik.
“When the chaos around Krondor revealed that we had been somehow tricked by a demonic creature and that the Emerald Queen was no longer our true mistress, we were left to fend for ourselves. Fadawah is an ambitious man. Kahil is also an ambitious man.
I suspect it was he who proposed to Fadawah that my fate be much the same as Duko’s.
“I was led to believe that we would keep a soft center in Sarth, with a thousand men secreted in the lower halls of the abbey. When your army was safely up the road, I was to ride out and strike from behind while Fadawah was rolling your army south along the coast.” Bitterly he said, “I never got the men. I should have known that the third time twenty men showed up when I expected two hundred.
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Instead I got a long visit from Kahil, who inspected the abbey and told me all was going according to plan. I got less than four hundred men in total, most of them of questionable skills.”
Owen said, “We’ll have to decide what to do with you later, General. For the moment, I have the problem of getting up north and getting the Duchy of Yabon back for my King.”
Nordan stood. “I understand, Marshal. I will by force of circumstances await your pleasure.”
Greylock signaled to a guard to return the captive General to the company of the other officers. After he was out of hearing range, Owen said, “He said one thing that disturbs me.”
“What?” asked Erik.
“That remark he attributed to this Kahil: ‘All was going according to plan.’ ”
Subai said, “I came up through the basement of the abbey. I saw nothing we need to fear.”
“I don’t think he meant the abbey,” said Owen. “I think he meant some larger scheme that Fadawah is hatching.”
Erik said, “All of which we will learn in due time.”
Owen pointed his finger at his old friend. “That’s what has me fearful.” He pointed at the tabletop. He motioned for food to be brought and servants hurried to comply. To one of the junior officers standing nearby he said, “Let me know when all the commanders report their units are in place.”
Erik was silent a moment, then said, “We could hit them at night.”
“At night?” asked Subai.
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the idea, but was rather just speculating. “If we could get close to the barricade before they spotted our advance units, perhaps we could force a breach before they started doing too much damage with those catapults and archery fire.”
Owen was dubious. “I think we do this the traditional way. Order camp, and tell the men to rest. At first light we assemble, we march out and stand in ranks. I’ll ride forward with Erik and ask for surrender, and when they say no, we’ll attack.”
Erik sighed. “I wish I could think of something very clever.”
“Subai, can you see any way to get some of our soldiers around the hillside end of the barricade?”
“A few maybe,” answered the Captain. “But not enough to do more than get them all killed when they were discovered. If my Pathfinders were to do it, we could get up there and be in position before we were di
scovered, I’m certain.”
“But you have to be on your way north, carrying messages,” said Owen. “No, gentlemen, this time we must walk up and kick down the door. See to your men.”
Erik stood up. “I’ll inspect the deployment.”
Owen motioned for Erik to stay, and when the other officers were gone, he said, “Can you get some men on the beach below those cliffs?”
“I can get them down to the beach, but I don’t know if I can get them up the cliffs,” said Erik.
“Then you’d better get down there and see, before you lose the daylight. If you can get a squad up those cliffs and over the top before they see you coming, you could spring that gate from the inside.”
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than the hillside by a hundred yards or so, isn’t it?”
“Think you can do it?”
Erik said, “Let me go down and take a look. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
He heaved himself out of the chair and moved to where his Crimson Eagles were camped. “Jadow!”
he shouted, “bring a squad!”
The large lieutenant and a sergeant named Hudson fell in almost instantly, and by the time Erik had moved to where the horses were picketed, he had a dozen other men hurrying along to catch up. The horses were saddled and ready to ride in minutes, and Erik formed up his squad. He glanced around, astonished at how well the army was being encamped. The move from Sarth northward had been at a forced march and the quartermasters had been pressed to their limit to get provisions together and underway on short notice. Yet here was the bulk of the Armies of the West, nearly eight thousand men under arms in the van, with another ten thousand less than a week behind, moving into locations preselected by Owen’s staff. Logistics was still more an abstract concept to Erik than a real one. His time on the road had been in Calis’s small companies in Novindus, or in defensive positions in Krondor and Darkmoor. This was his first experience having responsibility for large numbers of men on the march.
The dust was almost overwhelming from the thousands of men, wagons, and horses moving along both sides of the road. He knew he could ride freely down the cliffs to the coast and no enemy spotter would be able to see anything that would give away his inspection of the beach area.