Shards of a Broken Crown
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“As my father said,” returned Roo, “If there’s enough spice on it, it doesn’t matter if the meat’s bad.”
Nakor laughed. They turned the corner and saw a group of men standing before a large wagon being used as makeshift tavern. Two barrels had been set 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 2:37 PM Page 466
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up at each end of the wagon, and a board was set atop them to serve as a bar. Two dozen men idly stood around, drinking and laughing. As Nakor and Roo drew near, they quieted down and watched the two men pass.
After they had moved down the street, Nakor said, “That’s odd.”
“What is?”
He motioned over his shoulder. “Those men.”
“What about them?”
Nakor stopped and said, “Turn around and tell me what you see.”
Roo did as he was asked, and said, “I see a bunch of workmen drinking.”
Nakor said, “Look closer.”
Roo said, “I don’t see . . .”
“What?”
Roo scratched his chin. “There’s something strange, but I can’t quite tell what it is.”
Nakor said, “Come with me,” and led Roo off the way they had been heading. “First of all, those aren’t workers.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re dressed like workers, but they’re not.
They’re soldiers.”
“Soldiers?” said Roo. “I don’t understand.”
“You have more work than you have workers, correct?”
“Yes,” said Roo. “That’s true.”
“So what are workmen doing standing around at this hour of the day drinking ale?”
“I . . .” Roo stopped. After a moment, he said,
“Damn. I thought they were simply having their midday meal.”
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“That’s the second thing, the midday meal isn’t for another hour, Roo. And did you see how they stopped talking when we got too close? And how everyone around them gives them a wide berth?”
Roo said, “Yes, now that you point it out. So the question is, what are soldiers doing standing around dressed like workmen getting drunk in the morning?”
Nakor said, “No, that’s not the question. They’re standing around dressed like workmen getting drunk in the morning so that people will think they’re workmen getting drunk in the morning. The question is why are they trying to make people think they’re workmen—”
“I get the point,” interrupted Roo. “Let’s find Dash.”
It took them only a half hour to spy a band of men wearing the red armbands, and when they overtook them, they found Dash, leading them. Dash told his men to continue their patrol, and said, “Nakor, Roo, what can I do for you?”
Nakor said, “Tell your great-grandfather I need to talk to him. But before that, there are men at a wagon bar over there”—he pointed to the general area where they had passed the wagon—“dressed like workmen, but they aren’t.”
Dash nodded. “I know. They are one of several bands like that throughout the market.”
“Oh?” said Roo. “You know?”
Dash said, “What sort of sheriff would I be if I didn’t?”
“The usual sort,” said Nakor. “Anyway, if you know about those men, we can talk about Pug.”
“What about him?”
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“I need to see him.”
Dash’s eyes narrowed. “And you want me to do what?”
“You’re his great-grandson, how do you contact him?”
Dash shook his head. “I don’t. If Father had means, he never told me. Or Jimmy, else I’d know.
Grandmother merely had to close her eyes.”
Nakor nodded. “I know that. Gamina could talk to him across the world at times.”
Dash said, “I thought you’d have the means.”
Nakor said, “I don’t see him that much, except when we’re both on the island. Maybe he’s there.”
Nakor turned toward Roo. “Can I borrow a ship to go to Sorcerer’s Island?”
Roo said, “If you haven’t noticed, there’s a full-blown war going on out there!” He pointed toward the ocean. “A Free Cities ship might sail out there without being accosted, but a Kingdom ship is either going to run into Quegan pirates, Keshian pirates, or Fadawah’s pirates, unless you have a fleet. I might be tempted to lend you a ship, but I’m not lending you a fleet.”
Nakor said, “I don’t need a fleet. One ship will be fine.”
“And the pirates?”
“Not to worry,” said Nakor with a grin. “I have tricks.”
“Very well,” said Roo, “but what’s the problem?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you?”
“No,” said Roo. He looked at Dash, who shrugged.
“You have to see this,” said Nakor, setting off without bothering to see who was following.
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Roo looked at Dash, who said, “We’d better see what this is all about.”
They hurried after Nakor, so as not to lose sight of him, and the little man walked briskly through the city, all the way to the eastern gate, the one which opened on the King’s Highway.
By the time they got to this destination, Roo was almost out of breath. “We should have ridden.”
“I don’t have a horse,” said Nakor. “I had a horse once, a beautiful black stallion, but he died. That’s when I was Nakor the Blue Rider.”
Dash said, “What did you want to show us?”
“That,” said Nakor, pointing to the statue he had erected a week earlier.
A dozen people were gathered before the statue looking and gesturing.
Dash and Roo left the road and moved to where they could see what the travelers were looking at.
Roo asked, “What is that?”
Down the face of the statue, two red streaks could be seen below the eyes, marring the otherwise perfect face.
Dash pushed his way past the onlookers, and said, “It looks like blood!”
“It is,” said Nakor. “The statue of the Lady is crying blood.”
Roo hurried over and said, “It’s a trick, right?”
“No!” said Nakor. “I wouldn’t stoop to cheap tricks, at least not where the Lady is concerned.
She’s the Goddess of Good, and . . . well, I just wouldn’t.”
“All right,” said Dash. “I’ll take your word for that, but what’s causing this?”
“I don’t know,” said Nakor, “but that’s nothing.
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You’ve got to see the other thing.”
He hurried off again. Dash and Roo exchanged glances, and Dash said, “I can’t wait to see what this other thing is.”
Again they followed the hurrying little man.
Once more they entered the city gates, crossed through the eastern quarter of the city and back across the city toward the market. Only this time, they skirted the market to the south and headed over toward Temple Square.
Roo was laughing as he struggled to keep up with Nakor. “Why couldn’t he have two marvels across the street from one another?”
Dash said, “I have no idea.”
They reached the empty lot between the Temples of Lims-Kragma and Guis-wa. Clerics from several other temples were gathered nearby, peering at the crowd gathered before a tent that was erected there.
Where Nakor had found the tent, Dash had no idea. One day it wasn’t there, the next day it was—a huge pavilion with enough room under it to comfortably accommodate a couple of hundred people.
Dash firmly shoved his way through the crowd.
Som
e people began to object until they saw the red armband. When they got to the entrance, Nakor and Roo a step behind, Dash stopped, and his mouth fell open.
“Gods,” said Roo.
Directly before them, his back toward them, in a meditative position, sat Sho Pi and a half dozen other acolytes of this new temple. In the center of the tent was the young woman, Aleta. Only she was neither standing nor sitting. She was in a position identical to Sho Pi’s: legs crossed, hands in her lap. And she 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 2:37 PM Page 471
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was bathed in a nimbus of pure white light which seemed to emanate from within her, suffusing the tent with light. But she floated six feet above the ground.
Roo put his hand on Nakor’s shoulder, and said,
“I’ll give you a ship.”
Dash whispered, “Why my great-grandfather?
Why not ask the other temple clerics?”
“Because of that,” said Nakor.
Directly below the woman something hovered.
Dash and Roo hadn’t noticed it when they first entered, because of the startling sight of the young woman afloat. But now they could see there was a blackness hanging in the air, a cloud of something vile and terrifying. A clear certainty struck both Dash and Roo at the same time: the light from the young woman was confining that black presence, keeping it penned up.
“What is it?” whispered Dash.
Nakor said, “Something very bad. Something I didn’t think I would see in my lifetime. And it’s something Pug must know about as soon as possible.
The temple clerics will know about it soon enough, and they have an important part, but Pug must know about this.” He looked Dash in the eyes. “He must know soon.”
Roo grabbed Nakor by the arm. “I’ll take you out to Fishtown myself, right now. I’ll put you aboard a ship and you just tell the Captain where you want to go.”
“Thank you.” To Sho Pi, Nakor shouted, “Take care of things. And tell Dominic he’s in charge until I get back.”
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left the tent, Roo said, “I didn’t think you went anywhere without Sho Pi going with you.”
Nakor gave a slight shrug. “That used to be true.
But I am no longer his master.”
Roo dodged along the street. “When did that happen?”
Using his walking stick to point over his shoulder, Nakor said, “When she started floating in the air a couple of hours ago.”
“I see,” said Roo.
“And that’s what I meant.”
“What is what you meant?”
“When you asked me what was I talking about.”
Roo said, “When? I seem to be asking you what are you talking about nearly every time we meet.”
“When I first walked into the coffeehouse, and I said, ‘This won’t do,’ that’s what I was talking about.
That blackness.”
Roo said, “I don’t know what it is, and I don’t think I want to know what it is, but ‘it won’t do’ is a rather mild way of putting things. Just looking at it scares me.”
“We’ll fix it,” said Nakor. “As soon as I reach Pug.”
They got to the docks and Roo only had to wait a few minutes to commandeer one of his boats. He had them row Nakor out to one of his fastest ships.
“What do you do if Pug’s not on the island?”
Nakor said, “Don’t worry. Gathis will find him for me. Someone on the island will.”
Nakor climbed a net ladder, and Roo shouted,
“Captain! Shove off as soon as you can and take him where he wants to go!”
A disbelieving Captain said, “Mr. Avery! We’re 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 2:37 PM Page 473
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only half unloaded.”
“That will have to do, Captain. Have you supplies for two more weeks at sea?”
“Aye, sir, we do.”
“Then you have your orders, Captain.”
“Aye, sir,” said the Captain. He shouted, “Get ready to cast off! Secure the cargo!”
Men started scrambling, and Roo instructed the boat crew to turn around and take him back to shore.
As he reached the docks be saw the sails unfurling on his ship and he bid Nakor a fair voyage. With good winds he’d reach Sorcerer’s Island in a week or less, and knowing Nakor’s “tricks,” he was certain Nakor would see good winds on this voyage.
Reaching the docks, Roo couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was occurring in Krondor, it was now something far beyond his plans for wealth and power. The game that was about to unfold would be beyond the powers of even the, richest man in the Western Realm, and that frightened him. He decided to let the workers leave early tonight and return to his estates. Karli was overseeing the rebuilding there, and Roo had a powerful desire to spend the night with his wife and children.
Jimmy reviewed the reports until his eyes couldn’t focus. He stood up and said, “I have to get some air.”
Duko looked up and said, “I understand. You’ve been reading since dawn.” Duko’s own command of the written King’s Tongue was improving, so he could now read along with Jimmy or someone else reading aloud, but the messages they were getting were too critical for him to trust he wasn’t making a 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 2:37 PM Page 474
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mistake.
The net effect of this was twofold: first, Jimmy didn’t think he could see anything more than two feet away right now and, second, he was starting to develop an overall appreciation of the strategic situation along the Kingdom’s southern frontier.
Kesh had a plan. Jimmy wasn’t sure what it was, but he was almost certain that it required a large commitment of Kingdom forces in two places, in Land’s End and near Shamata to the east. At times he almost felt as if he understood what Kesh was going to do next, but he just couldn’t quite make it come together in his mind.
A rider came galloping toward the headquarters building and reined in his lathered horse. “Sir!” he said. “Messages from Shamata!”
Jimmy stepped off the porch and took the packet.
He brought it inside and Duko said, “That wasn’t much time.”
“Messages from Shamata.”
Duko said, “More messages. You’d better read them.”
“The messenger was in a hurry,” said Jimmy as he unwrapped the package.
He read the single paper that was in the packet and said, “Gods! One of our patrols caught sight of a fast-moving Keshian column moving rapidly northeast through Tahupset Pass.”
“What’s the significance?” asked Duko.
“Damned if I know,” said Jimmy. He motioned for one of the orderlies in the room to bring over a particular map and spread it out before the Duke.
“That’s a pass that runs along the western shore of the Sea of Dreams. It’s part of the old caravan route 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 2:37 PM Page 475
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from Shamata to Landreth.”
“Why would the Keshians threaten Landreth, when we have a garrison in Shamata that can take them from behind?”
Jimmy stared into space and for a moment he didn’t answer, then he said, “Because they’re not going to Landreth. They just want us to think they are.”
“Where are they going?”
Jimmy studied the map. “They’re too far east to support any move at Land’s End.” His finger traced a line, and he said, “If they cut west here, they could come straight at us, but we’re too well defended with all the support units for Land’s End here.”
“Unless they want to draw us off before they push at Land’s End?”
Jimmy rubbed his tired eyes. “Maybe.”
Duko said, “Isolating us from Land’s End would ma
ke sense.”
“If they could, but they’d need more than a single cavalry column. Maybe if they were sneaking other units through . . .” Jimmy said, “I have a hunch, m’lord, and I don’t like it.”
“What?”
His finger traced lines across the map. “What if the column doesn’t go northeast to Landreth, but goes due north instead?”
“That would bring them here,” said Duko. “You said you didn’t think they were trying to draw us off.”
“They aren’t. If they go straight north from here”—his finger marked a spot on the map—
“they’re fifty miles east of our usual patrol route.”
“There’s nothing out there,” observed the Duke.
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Jimmy. “But if they keep moving north, they intercept a trail here that runs through the foothills. It’s part of an old caravan route from the dwarven mines at Dworgin that runs to here.” His finger stabbed at the map.
“Krondor?”
“Yes,” said Jimmy. “What if they’ve been slipping columns and soldiers through there for weeks?
We just caught a glimpse of this one.” He reexamined the communiqué. “No word of banners or markings. The soldiers could be from anywhere within the Empire.”
“They hold us static with units we’re used to facing, then bring up units from farther down in the Empire . . .”
“And they take Krondor in a flash attack.”
Duko was on his feet. He headed to the door of the headquarters and was shouting orders just as the old soldier, Matak, got the door open.
“I want every unit ready to move in an hour!” He turned to Jimmy. “My orders instruct me to defend and protect the Southern Marches. So I’m keeping the garrison intact, but if you’re correct, the Prince will need every soldier we can spare back in Krondor.”
With efficiency born of experience, he had the entire garrison moving within minutes. “Jimmy, you will lead the column, and I hope you’re in time. For if you are correct, Kesh will strike at Krondor any time now, and if they take it . . .”
Jimmy knew probably better than Duko what that would mean. It would leave the Kingdom split in half. Greylock’s army would be locked in struggle south of Ylith, Duko’s army would be forced to hold 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 2:37 PM Page 477