Shards of a Broken Crown

by Raymond E. Feist

  “What about our horse?” asked Leland.

  “They hold to each side of the outer diamonds. If we’re lucky they can prevent any flanking, and if the enemy retreats, we can unleash them to harry the enemy.”

  “Then what?” asked Richard.

  “Then we lick our wounds, reorganize, and see if can do something about that mess up the road.”

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  Reports were filtering back from men who had been cut off and lost for a while behind enemy lines, and who returned to fill in gaps in Erik’s knowledge of what was ahead of them. Along with Subai’s reports, carried back by his first two couriers, Erik wasn’t optimistic. The fact that no more Pathfinders had returned from Subai’s journey was also a part of that pessimism. With no firm picture of what lay closer to Ylith, Erik’s cautious nature turned his imagination to the darkest possibilities.

  As best as they could determine, not only was there a vast network of fortifications at the crest of each hill and rise, but tunnels had been dug, so that reinforcements could be rushed from one location to another without being exposed to enemy attack. Erik recognized the trap inherent in the design: to attempt to bypass the fortifications left an unknown number of enemies at his back, and to stop and dig them out one at a time meant no hope of relieving the siege of Yabon.

  Erik shook his head. “I’m too tired to think. At this point it seems possible that our only choice is in the manner of our defeat: either ride home and dig in at Krondor, or get butchered as we continue to push north.”

  “Can we not get support from the sea?” asked Lord Richard.

  Erik said, “Perhaps, up here, if we get past Questor’s View. There’re a number of coves and beaches where we could land men, but we lack enough ships to get the men there, don’t have the proper boats for a landing, and if Fadawah positions men on the bluffs above, none of our men would reach the road.”

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  Leland said, “You make it sound hopeless.”

  Erik said, “Right now, that’s how I feel. Some sleep and a meal, and we’ll see how I feel in the morning, but either way, I’m not going to conclude anything on the basis of my feelings.”

  Richard said, “For one so young, you’ve seen a great deal of war, haven’t you?”

  Erik nodded. “I’m not yet twenty-six years of age, m’lord, yet I feel old in my bones.”

  “Get some rest,” suggested Richard.

  Erik nodded as he left the tent. He saw a soldier in the black tunic of the Crimson Eagles, and said,

  “Sean, where is our camp?”

  “Over there, Captain,” answered the soldier as he hurried past.

  Erik moved in the indicated direction and found a dozen members of his old command setting up their tents. “Bless you, Jadow,” he said when he saw his own tent already up. Erik flung himself down on the bedroll waiting for him and was asleep within seconds.

  “Ring the alarm,” said Dash.

  “What?” asked Patrick, a look of incredulity on his face.

  “I said ring the alarm. Spread word that a Keshian army is advancing on the city, and those soldiers hidden within the city will leap to attack the positions they’re supposed to. Only instead of taking our soldiers from behind, our soldiers will be waiting for them.”

  “Isn’t that extreme?” asked Duke Rufio, recently arrived from Rodez. Dash knew him slightly from his time at the King’s court in Rillanon, and knew 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 491

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  him to be a no-nonsense sort of fellow. He was a competent administrator, an adequate military advisor, and a fair rider and swordsman, exactly the wrong man for Krondor on the brink of a crisis.

  Rufio would prove a fine administrator for a talented monarch served by a brilliant general, thought Dash.

  Unfortunately, he had only Patrick and Dash to depend on, and Dash was now certain he would have to improvise and be dazzling else Krondor would be lost.

  “Yes, Your Grace, it is extreme,” answered Dash,

  “but it’s better to flush them out when we’re ready for them than to have them appear behind us at the height of an attack. I’ve seen enough proof there are weapons and food caches in the sewers so that armed insurrection inside the city can commence with any attack from outside.”

  “If there is any attack,” said Patrick. He remained dubious about the entire possibility. He was convinced that negotiations underway at Stardock would eventually yield a solution. Even the revelation that Malar Enares had been a Keshian spy, and the lack of response to an inquiry about Jimmy’s arrival at Port Vykor, didn’t persuade him there was the risk of a surprise attack against the capital of the Western Realm.

  Dash had never been close to Patrick. More of an age with Jimmy and Francie, Dash had always been the “tag-along” as children, and during the period when Dash and Jimmy had been tossed out of the palace to learn in the rough and tumble of the docks at Rillanon, Patrick had been visiting the eastern courts, learning diplomacy. Even as young men, Dash and Patrick had felt little affinity for one anoth-

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  er; Dash was sure Patrick had redeeming qualities, but at this moment, he couldn’t begin to think what they were.

  “If you know who these men are,” suggested Patrick, “the ones who are secreting all these weapons and food, why don’t you just arrest them?”

  “Because presently I have less than one hundred constables, and I believe there are close to a thousand enemy soldiers scattered throughout the city. As soon as I arrest the first bunch, the rest will go to ground. And I don’t know who all of them are. I think I’ve got some lying low aboard ships off the coast, and there may be some in the caravansary outside the gate, and who knows how many are lurking down in the sewers.

  “But if I ring the alarm bell, and you have the soldiers in the city placed at key locations, between them and my constables, we can eliminate this threat.”

  Duke Rufio said, “I have two hundred soldiers en route from Rodez who should be arriving here within the week. Perhaps when they arrive?”

  Dash tried mightily to hide his aggravation. He almost succeeded. “At least let me employee more men,” Dash pleaded.

  Patrick said, “The treasury is low; you’ll have to make do with what you have.”

  “What about volunteers?” asked Dash.

  “If anyone volunteers to serve, swear them to duty. Do whatever you have to. Perhaps after the war we might pay them.” Patrick looked as if he had run out of patience. “That will be all, Sheriff,” said Patrick.

  Dash bowed and removed himself from the 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 493

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  office. Stalking down the hall, he was lost in thought when he turned a corner and almost ran into Francie.

  “Dash!” she said, sounding pleased to see him. “It’s been so long.”

  “I’ve been busy,” he said, still feeling nettled over Patrick’s dismissal of his idea.

  “Everyone has. Father tells me your job is probably as thankless as anyone’s in the palace, yet he thinks you’re doing it well.”

  “Thanks,” said Dash. “Are you staying here in Krondor, now that Duko Rufio has assumed office?”

  “Father and I leave for Rillanon in a week,” said Francie. “We have to make plans . . .”

  “For the wedding?”

  Francie nodded. “No one is supposed to know; the King will announce it after things calm down . .

  . .” She looked troubled.

  “What is it?”

  Lowering her voice she said, “Have you heard anything from Jimmy?”

  “No,” he said.

  “I’m worri
ed about him,” said Francie. “He left in such a hurry and we really had little chance to talk .

  . . about things.”

  Dash had no time for this. “Francie, he’s fine, and as for talking about things, well, perhaps after the wedding, when Patrick’s returned and you’re Princess of Krondor, you can order him to come to a garden party . . .”

  “Dash!” said Francie, looking hurt. “Why are you being so mean?”

  Dash sighed. “Because I’m tired, angry, frustrated, and because your future husband is being . . .

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  I’m worried about Jimmy, too.”

  Francie nodded. “Is he really upset by my marrying Patrick?”

  Dash shrugged. “I don’t know. I think in a way, yes, but in another way he knows things have to be what they are. He’s . . . confused, like the rest of us.”

  Francie sighed. “I just want him to be my friend.”

  Dash tried to force a smile. “You shouldn’t worry about that Jimmy’s very loyal. He’ll always be your friend.” He bowed slightly. “Well, milady, I must be off. There’s too much to do and I’m already late.”

  “Good-bye, Dash,” she said, and Dash detected a note of sadness in her voice, as if they were parting forever.

  “Good-bye, Francie,” he said as he turned and walked off. Here he was trying to keep the city intact, and she was concerned with hurt feelings.

  Dash knew he was in a bad mood, but he also knew it was well earned. And he knew he was likely to be in a worse one if he didn’t come up with some way to neutralize those forces hostile to the crown already secreted inside the city.

  Subai was astonished, as was every human upon first viewing Elvandar. He had been led through the glades to the large clearing surrounding the heart of the elven forests, and when he had spied the giant trees of luminous colors he had been moved to his most expressive exclamation in years. “Killian!

  What joy!” he had whispered.

  Adelin said, “Of those beings you humans worship, we revere Killian most.”

  He led the tired and hungry Captain to the Queen’s court, and by the time Subai reached it, he 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 495

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  felt far better than he had any reason to expect. He suspected it had something to do with the magic associated with the place, according to legend.

  He bowed before the two beings sitting upon the dais, a woman of stunning if alien beauty, and a tall, powerfully built but young-looking man. “Your Majesty,” he said to the Queen. “My lord,” he said to the man.

  “Welcome,” said the Elf Queen, and her voice was soft and musical. “You have come a great distance, and at great peril. Take your ease and tell us of your message from your Prince.”

  Subai looked around the Queen’s Council. Three elderly-looking, grey-haired elves stood to her right hand, one wearing rich-looking robes, the second an impressive-looking suit of armor with a sword at his side, and the third a simple blue robe with a corded belt.

  Next to Tomas, Prince-Consort of Elvandar, stood a young-looking elf, one who bore a resemblance to the Queen, and Subai deduced this to be her older son, Calin. To his left stood a familiar figure: Calis.

  Next to Calis was a man wearing leathers and a long grey cloak.

  Subai said to the Queen, “The message is this, Fair Queen: an enemy of great evil lies between our realms. Calis as much as any man knows this evil.

  He has faced it more than anyone, and knows it wears many faces.”

  “What would you have of us?” asked the Queen.

  Subai looked from face to face. “I do not know, Great Queen. I had hoped to find the magician Pug here, for it may be we are at the mercy of powers only he might face.”

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  Tomas stood and said, “Should we have need of Pug I can promise you a quick passage to him. He has returned to his island and can be found there.”

  Calis said, “Mother, may I speak?” The Queen nodded, and Calis said, “Subai, the Emerald Queen is dead and so is the demon who destroyed her.

  Surely the Kingdom can deal with the remaining invaders.”

  “I wish that it were so, Calis,” said Subai. “But on my way here I saw things that make me think we have again encountered more than we’ve suspected.

  I’ve seen the return of those men you told us of, the Immortals, and other drinkers of blood. I’ve seen men, women, and children sacrificed up to dark powers. I’ve seen bodies piled in pits, and mystic fires burning in villages. I’ve heard chants and songs that no human should hear. Whatever help you have to give, please, we need it now.”

  The Queen said, “We shall discuss this in council.

  Our son has spoken at length of the invaders from across the sea. They do not trouble us, but they do patrol near our borders.

  “Go now and rest. We shall meet again in the morning.”

  Calis and the man in grey came down to stand before Subai. Calis shook hands with the Captain. “It is good to see you,” said Calis.

  The Pathfinder said, “You can’t imagine how good it is to see you, Calis. And I’m betting that Erik wishes you were back in command of the Eagles.”

  Calis said, “This is Pahaman of Natal.”

  The man in grey put out his hand, and Subai said,

  “Our grandfathers were brothers.”

  “Our grandfathers were brothers,” returned 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 497

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  Pahaman.

  Calis said, “An odd greeting.”

  Subai smiled. “It’s a ritual. The Pathfinders and the Rangers of Natal are of like spirit. Never in the conflicts between the Free Cities and the Kingdom has a Ranger or Pathfinder spilled the other’s blood.”

  Pahaman said, “In ancient times, when Kesh ruled, our ancestors were Imperial Guides. When the Empire retreated, many who were left behind became Rangers, and those who lived near Krondor founded the Pathfinders. All are kin, Pathfinder, Ranger, and Guide.”

  Calis said, “Would that all men knew they were kin. Come, let us feed you, Subai, and find you a place to sleep. While you dine, tell me what you’ve seen.”

  They departed.

  Tomas turned to his wife and said, “More than anytime since the Riftwar I fear we may not be free of involvement.”

  The Queen looked at her eldest counselor and said, “Tathar?”

  “We will wait upon Calis’s return. After he has spoken to the human he will tell us how grave is the risk.”

  Prince Calin said, “I will join my brother and listen, as well.”

  The Queen nodded, and the old warrior, Redtree, said, “What good would it do for us to leave Elvandar? We are few in number and could not tip the balance.”

  Tomas said, “I don’t think that will be the question.” He looked at his wife and said, “The question becomes, should I depart Elvandar?”

  The Queen looked at her husband and said nothing.

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  Twenty-Three

  Decisions

  THE MEN WALKED softly.

  Dash led his detachment through the cellar, each man carrying a large billy club and a dagger. The order was simple. If they resist, subdue them; if they draw weapons, kill them.

  All over the city, raids were being conducted, by constables and members of Patrick’s Royal Household Guard. Patrick would not permit the sounding of the city’s alarm, and the only concession Dash could wring from the Prince was the use of two hundred of his guards for a coordinated raid.

  Seven different hideouts had been discovered, as well as three ships in the harbor. The ships were being left to the Royal Navy, which had enough presence in the area that t
he sudden boarding of the target ships should be unexpected.

  But Dash was unhappy. He knew there were other agents in the city, and that a significant portion of the caravan guards at the caravansary were probably Keshian soldiers. The only comfort he drew from their going uncaught was that they were outside the wall and would remain so. He had established check-498

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  points at the gate, on the pretext of needing a better census with the rebuilding of the city.

  They had reached a cellar in the northeastern portion of the city; the building was still burned-out, but Dash knew the door to the cellar had been restored.

  It had been scorched to look burned.

  He had debated the best way to approach this task with himself all day, and had finally elected to take the shock approach.

  The upper cellar was deserted, but he knew the rear door led to a ramp down to the lower cellar, the one which opened onto the sewers. He tested the door handle and found it unlatched. Gently he lifted it and moved the door open. He whispered to the men behind him, “All right, silently until I say different.”

  He crept down the ramp to a landing opening up on a large cellar, once previously used to house large casks of ale and wine. The building above had been an inn. On the far side of the room a score of men were lying around on bedding on the floor, or sitting on barrels. Dash said to his own men, “Spread out and don’t stop.”

  He walked purposefully toward the nearest man who looked in surprise at the men approaching. Then he saw the red armband and started to stand up. Dash shouted, “In the name of the Prince, surrender!”

  The man lying on the nearest pallet started to rise, but Dash lashed out with his billy club and knocked the man senseless. The other constables hurried forward, and one man who started to pull his sword was struck unconscious by three constables. Others raised hands in surrender, though one tried to run down a passage. One of the constables flung his billy 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 500

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  along the floor, sending it skipping over the stones to strike the man in the back of the legs. He fell hard and before he could rise two other constables were on him.