Shards of a Broken Crown

by Raymond E. Feist

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  He found the path leading down to a cove a mile behind the lines and led the patrol downward. The road narrowed as it wound down to the beach, so they rode single file.

  They halted while Erik looked up and down the coast. He turned to the men Jadow had gathered, and said, “Any good swimmers here?”

  Two of the men held up their hands, and Erik grinned at Jadow. “Oh, no, man. Not since we had to swim that river to get to Maharta.”

  Erik jumped down and began removing his armor. “This time we won’t have to wear eighty pounds of iron.” Jadow dismounted and, muttering curses, also started stripping off his armor.

  The two men who had volunteered were soon standing next to Erik and Jadow, all wearing only their undertunics and leggings. Erik said, “We swim in pairs. This current looks rough. And be wary of the rocks.”

  He led the men as far along the beach as they could go before encountering the finger of cliff that extended into the rocks. Wading out into the surf, he turned and said, “It’s safer to swim, I think, than to risk wading through the surf as it pounds those rocks.”

  The men followed, and Erik led them out until the waves started to break. He dove under a breaking wave and came up behind it. He struck out away from the beach, and when the water was merely surging back and forth, turned on a course that ran along the beach. The water was cold despite the time of the year, and the going difficult, but after a few minutes, Erik saw that he had left his partner behind.

  He waited and let the man catch up, then started 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 364

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  swimming again. They drew even with the first of a series of small coves, and stopped, letting the others catch up and tread water a moment. He said, “We need to swim about another mile, then head in.” He pointed. “The beach seems to open up over there.”

  Jadow said, “I can’t tell; all I see is breaking surf and rocks.”

  “Well, avoid the rocks,” said Erik, setting out again with powerful strokes.

  He led them around a second point of land and toward more rocks. He stopped and pointed. “There!

  A section of open beach.”

  He swam straight in toward the breakers, catching one to ride in, and stood up in knee-deep water.

  He looked around and saw the other three men also riding waves in, though Jadow seemed to have swallowed a fair amount of water on the way.

  Erik glanced up to the cliffs. He motioned and said, “I think we’re between our lines and theirs.”

  Looking up and down the coast, he said, “It’s difficult to tell.”

  After a moment to catch his breath, he continued,

  “Come on. We’re going to have our work cut out for us to get back before dark.”

  Jadow groaned.

  “What?” asked Erik.

  “Man, I just didn’t even think; we’ve got to swim back, don’t we?”

  Erik and the other men laughed. “Unless you want to stay down here.”

  As Erik started off at a trot up the beach, Jadow said, “I’m thinking a beach life might be the thing; I could fish, make a hut, you know.”

  Erik grinned. “You’d get bored.”

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  They hurried along the base of the cliffs, Erik looking up from time to time. They found a long, winding beach, a series of tidal pools, and some large outcroppings of rocks, but Erik was at last convinced they were a safe distance behind the enemy fortification without being seen.

  He looked upward and asked, “Jadow, what do you think about climbing that cliff?”

  Jadow looked upward and finally said, “Not much.”

  “Can it be done?”

  “Possibly, but it’s a job for the Pathfinders. They are very good at that sort of thing.”

  “The Pathfinders are going around the eastern end of the line, up the hills and north; Subai’s got messages to get to Yabon.”

  “Well, then, do we have anyone else in camp who might be foolish enough to swim over here and climb those rocks for a little hand-to-hand may-hem?”

  Erik looked at Jadow, then said, “I think I may have just the lot.”

  Owen said, “Let me get this straight. You want me only to hit them with probing attacks tomorrow?”

  Erik pointed along the line of defense freshly drawn on Owen’s map. “We’re going to bleed if we storm that wall. We can put that off a day or two longer. But if I can get up over the cliff, open the gate so you can get inside, we can shorten this attack by days. And we’ll save a lot of men’s lives.”

  “But if you don’t get to the gate, you’re going to get yourself chopped up,” said Owen.

  Erik said, “Last time I looked, no one promised a 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 366

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  soldier he would live forever.”

  Owen closed his eyes, then said, “Life used to be much easier when you were shoeing horses and I was teaching Otto’s other sons how to hold a sword.”

  Erik sat down and said, “I won’t argue that.”

  Owen said, “So, who are you taking with you?

  Climbing those cliffs will be dangerous . . . or am I stating the obvious?”

  “You are,” said Erik with a smile. He took a mug of wine offered him by an orderly, then said, “Akee and his Hadatis just showed up this morning. They’re the best climbers we have.”

  Owen nodded approval. “That they are. And a handy bunch with a sword, as I recall.”

  “Very.”

  “Well, I was going to send them along the ridge route, but if I give Subai all the Pathfinders, he stands a better chance of getting through to Yabon.”

  “I haven’t read the rolls of the fallen. How many Pathfinders have we left?”

  “Too few. We have too few of everyone,” said Owen. “We lost more men of quality at Darkmoor and Nightmare Ridge than the Gods should fairly ask of us. We are moving with the heart of the Army of the West, and if we fall, there’s nothing left.” He sighed. “Subai has fourteen Pathfinders left in his entire command.”

  “Fourteen?” Erik shook his head and his expression was one of regret. “He had over a hundred before the war.”

  “Those trackers and scouts are rare men,” said Owen. “You don’t train them Overnight like your band of cutthroats.”

  Erik smiled. “My cutthroats have proven them-

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  selves more times than any other unit in this army.

  And we’ve lost more of the Eagles than I care to think about.” For a moment he reflected on the men whom he had served with during two voyages to Novindus, Luis and Roo, Nakor and Sho Pi, and those fallen at the battles along the way—Billy Goodwin, who fell off his horse and broke his head, Biggo the pious brawler, and Harper, who was twice the sergeant Erik had ever been, among many others.

  And most of all, one man. “As much as I wish Calis was still leading this bunch instead of myself,” he said to Owen, “more than any other, I’d give half my remaining years to have Bobby de Loungville back.”

  Owen raised his wine cup. “Amen to that, my boy. Amen to that.” He drank. “But he’d be proud of you, no doubt.”

  Erik said, “When this is over, and we start taking men down to Novindus, I want to find that ice cave and bring Bobby home.”

  Owen said, “Men have done crazier things before. But dead is dead, and buried is buried, Erik.

  Of all the men who fell, why Bobby?”

  “Because he was Bobby? Most of us wouldn’t be alive today save for what he taught us, we in the Eagles. Calis was our Captain, but Bobby was our soul.”

  “Well, if you can get the Prince to release yo
u from duty for a time, maybe you can do it. Me, I’ll be asking him to promote you again to take some weight off my shoulders.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll refuse.”

  Owen said, “Why? You’ve got a wife, and I expect someday children, and a promotion means more money as well as rank.”

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  “I’m not worried about money. I mean, I have enough, even if the investments that Roo’s made for me don’t work out. I’ll take care of Kitty and any children, but I just don’t want to become a staff officer.”

  Greylock said, “There won’t be much need for captains once the war is over, Erik. The nobility will again come to the fore and start taking care of keeping the peace.”

  Erik shook his head. “I don’t think that’s wise. I think the Riftwar and this war show we need a larger standing army. With Kesh again making moves along the South, and with as many casualties as we’ve taken, I think the Prince needs more men under arms at all times than we’ve had before here in the West.”

  “You’re not the first to say that,” said Owen, “but the politics . . . the nobles will never stand for it.”

  “They will if the King orders it,” said Erik. “And someday Patrick will be King.”

  “Now there’s a chilling thought,” joked Owen.

  Erik said, “He’ll grow up.”

  Owen laughed. “Listen to you. You’re the same age!”

  Erik shrugged. “I feel older than my years.”

  “Well, you are,” said Owen, “and that’s a fact.

  Now, get out and find those Hadati and ask them if they’re crazy enough to do as you ask. If they say no, I will not be surprised, as they strike me as being a smarter than average bunch.”

  Erik rose, saluted casually, and departed. When he was gone, Owen looked at the map and said to the orderly, “Send for Captain Subai, please.”

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  Jimmy pointed. “Up there.” He had commandeered a horse and sent two men back to Port Vykor, riding double. He had ordered the other ten men to accompany him in his pursuit of Malar, and he knew the spy had only one possible destination.

  Jimmy was certain now that Malar Enares was a Keshian spy. A simple thief would have taken Jimmy’s weapons and gold. He only took Jimmy’s horse to have a spare as he fled to Keshian lines. The fact he had first taken the Prince’s orders to Lord Duko was the single most indicting evidence.

  Captain Songti and the other men looked uncertain about the young noble’s orders, but they obeyed.

  As they stopped to rest their horses, Songti said,

  “Lord James—”

  “Jimmy. My grandfather was Lord James.”

  “Lord Jimmy,” amended Songti.

  “Just Jimmy.”

  With a shrug, Songti said, “Jimmy, you move with certain purpose, and don’t seem to be following tracks. Can I assume you know where this fugitive is heading?”

  “Yes,” said Jimmy. “There are few places a man can safely travel between Kesh and the Kingdom, and there is only one crossing point near enough where he stands a chance of finding a Keshian patrol before running into ours. It’s up there”—he pointed to a distant range of low mountains—“in the high desert. It’s Dulsur Pass. It’s a very narrow little defile that empties out at the oasis of Okateo. Very popular with smugglers.”

  “And spies,” suggested Songti.

  “Yes,” said Jimmy.

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  garrison there?”

  Jimmy shrugged. “Because we find it as useful to keep open as the Keshians do.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever understand this society of yours, sir.”

  “Well, when the war is over, you may return to Novindus should you wish.”

  Songti said, “I am a soldier and I have served Lord Duko most of my life. I wouldn’t know what to do back in Novindus. None of us would.”

  Jimmy motioned it was time to resume riding.

  “Well, as sure as the sun rises in the east, there are those down in Novindus building their own little empires as much as Fadawah is here.”

  “Some of the younger men might wish to return,”

  said Songti as he remounted. “But most of us who have been with Duko for a while will make lives here, in your Kingdom.”

  “Then it’s time for you to begin thinking of it as our Kingdom.”

  “So my lord Duko instructs,” admitted Songti as he motioned the patrol forward.

  They rode up a dusty trail, into plateau country, long rolling vistas of dust, tough dry plants, and sun-bleached rock. A dry wind struck, and grit collected in a man’s eyes, nose, and threatened to peel skin from bone. Even water tasted gritty when drunk, as the fine, powdery sand got everywhere.

  They reached a high plateau and Jimmy pointed upward. “The oasis is at the top of that.” He pointed at another plateau, easily a thousand feet higher than the one upon which they stood. Looking backward, they could see the lowlands leading down to Shandon Bay.

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  Songti said, “From here on a clear day you can see the bay, I think.”

  “More,” said Jimmy. “On a very clear day I have been told you can see the peaks of the Calasitius Mountains to the north.” He urged his horse forward and they continued, moving upward.

  Night found them resting in a large pass, sheltered from the wind and sand. They sat on the rocks, their saddles behind them or under their feet. The horses were staked out a short way away. Jimmy ordered a cold camp against the possibilities others were nearby, or that Malar was looking over his shoulder.

  Jimmy knew that he stood a fair chance of overtaking the spy if he didn’t know his way through these hills as well as Jimmy. He might have been a boy in far Rillanon, but his grandfather made sure he and his brother knew every weakness along the border with Kesh: smugglers’ coves, trails, goat paths, creeks, and gaps in the mountains. And Lord James’s knowledge had been encyclopedic, Jimmy remembered; he had made sure his grandsons knew of every potential attack corridor into the Kingdom.

  Chewing jerked beef, Captain Songti said, “Are you certain we’ll catch this spy?”

  “We must. He stole orders to Duko and knows too much about the lack of defenses in Krondor. The orders also detail our plan for dealing with the threat to Land’s End.”

  “We have encountered a few of these Keshians.

  They are determined fighters.”

  “Keshian Dog Soldiers are not known for cow-ardice. Occasionally their leaders are, but if they’re ordered to fight to the last man, they will.”

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  “If we catch this man, we avoid a big fight?”

  “Yes,” said Jimmy.

  “Then we shall have to catch this man.”

  “At first light we leave,” said Jimmy. He gathered his cloak about him and said, “Wake me just before.”

  Akee and his men spread out along the base of the cliff. Erik said, “What’s the best way to proceed?”

  They had carried bundles of weapons and dry clothing wrapped in oil-treated canvas, swimming the route Erik had previously discovered. The plan was to get to the top of the cliff in the darkness, and just before dawn, Subai’s Pathfinders, as well as a few dozen Krondorian regulars, would make as much noise as possible at the far end of the defenders’ wall, hoping to make them think the Kingdom forces were attempting to circle the barricades on the hillside. They would retreat as soon as engaged, with Subai and his Pathfinders climbing the steep hillside and up into the mountains. Once past this barrier, they’d start their jour
ney along the western slopes of the mountains, making their way to Yabon. The Krondorians would retreat with a lot of noise, apparently in disorder.

  The hope was this would allow the Hadati and Erik to slip in behind the defenders and reach the gate. If they could get it open, Greylock promised they only had to hold it for two minutes. He had two companies of cavalry, light bowmen who could cross the gap in less than two minutes, and a company of one hundred heavy lancers, who could sweep behind the line and clear the wall of defenders.

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  shouting as Greylock’s probing attacks were withdrawn. The defenders had been dealing with them since noon, and as the sun set, Owen was quitting the attacks. Erik prayed the attacks had kept the defenders busy enough not to peer over the cliffs. Otherwise there might be a very nasty reception waiting for them at the top.

  Akee looked upward and said, “Pashan is our best climber. He goes first and carries a cord. If he reaches the top, we will tie the cord to a rope and he will pull it up.” With a slight smile, Akee added, “Even you should be able to reach the top of the cliffs with a rope to hang on to, Captain.”

  Erik said, “I am flattered by your confidence in me.”

  The man named Pashan took off his weapons, the long blade most Hadati carried over their backs, and the short blade carried at the belt. He was short, compact, and his arms and legs looked powerful. He stripped off his soft buckskin boots and handed everything to a companion. He took the light cord and carefully coiled it around his chest and shoulder, so he wore it like the plaid most Hadati wore when sporting clan dress. The bulk of it trailed behind him to a coil resting on the sand. Akee had instructed the men to be careful it uncoiled without any hitch, lest Pashan be pulled off balance by unexpected resistance.

  Pashan adjusted his kilt and started to climb. Erik glanced to the west. The sun had set a few minutes earlier, and now they were watching a brave man carefully scale a cliff face in failing light. It would be dark before he safely reached the top.