Shards of a Broken Crown

by Raymond E. Feist

  Dash had the prisoners roped together with their hands tied behind them before they could organize a resistance. One of the newly deputized constables said, “That went easily enough, Sheriff.”

  Dash said, “Don’t get too comfortable. The rest of the night won’t be this easy.”

  At dawn Jimmy rose to find a worried-looking Marcel Duval standing over his sleeping roll. “Earl James,” said the Squire from Bas-Tyra.

  “What is it?” asked Jimmy, getting up and trying to stretch at the same time.

  “Some of the horses are footsore, sir, and I was wondering if we might take a day to rest them.”

  Jimmy blinked, not sure he was entirely awake.

  “Rest them?”

  “The pace has been punishing, sir, and some of these animals are going to be lame by the time we reach Krondor.”

  Jimmy came wide awake. “Squire,” said Jimmy in as calm a voice as he could muster. “You may play at being a soldier all you wish back at the court in Bas-Tyra. Here you are a soldier. Now, by the time I get my horse saddled, you and your men had better be ready to ride. Today, your gallant troop rides in the van.”

  “Sir?”

  “That is all!” said Jimmy far too sharply. He closed his eyes a moment, then counted slowly to ten. He took a deep breath, then shouted, “Mount 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 501

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  up!”

  Everywhere men scrambled to get their horses saddled. Part of what made Jimmy irritable was that he knew the horses were being punished. Duval’s pretty bunch wouldn’t be the only ones limping into Krondor, but he knew that by pushing this company, he’d reach the city in three more days. He just hoped that would be soon enough.

  When the column was ready, Jimmy looked back and did a mental calculation. Five hundred cavalry and mounted infantry. The men were eating dried rations in the saddle, and already a few could be seen showing signs of illness. But sick or well, tired or rested, he was going to get them all to Krondor. They could tip the balance if the city was still intact when they got there. Fighting back hunger and fatigue, he shouted, “Get something in your bellies while you can. In ten minutes we pick up the pace.” Turning to the head of the line, he shouted, “Squire Duval, lead the column at the walk!”

  “Sir!” came the reply, and Duval led his fifty lancers out in the van.

  As the sun crept above the horizon in the east and rose and yellow hues bathed the landscape, Jimmy was forced to admit Duval’s company did cut a dashing appearance.

  The attack came at dawn, before the sun had risen over the mountains, at the time when men were the least ready to fight and the most likely to react slowly. Erik was already awake and had eaten, seen to the fortifications he had ordered constructed, and had called for the camp to be made ready.

  Richard stood at the command tent, watching the 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 502

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  advance in the grey of the morning, and said, “They seek to roll over us.”

  “As I would in their place,” said Erik. He held his helmet under his arm and pointed with his right hand. “If we hold the center, we can win the day. If either flank falls, I can plug the flow, but if the center falls, we must retreat.”

  Leland stood beside his father and said, “Then we will make certain the center doesn’t fall.” He donned his own helmet and said, “Father, may I join our men?”

  His father said, “Yes, my boy.” The lad ran off to where a groom held his mount. Leland leaped into the saddle as his father said, “Tith-Onanka guide your blade, and Ruthia smile on you.” The invocation of the War God and Goddess of Luck was appropriate, thought Erik.

  The invaders marched in irregular rhythm, without drummers or the other time-keepers Erik would have expected from Keshian or other Kingdom units.

  He had fought alongside most of the men he now faced, and while he had been a spy in their midst, he felt little kinship for them. Still, he respected their individual bravery, and it was clear that Fadawah had forged them into an army instead of the disorganized bands of mounted infantry and foot soldiers they had been in Novindus. Now he saw heavy infantry, companies of men with pikes advancing, supported by men with shields and swords, bucklers and axes.

  Behind sat men on horseback, cavalry units from the look of them, half with spears, the others armed with sword and buckler. Erik gave a silent prayer of thanks that horse archers had never been common in Novindus.

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  A thought occurred to Erik and he turned to a message runner. “Send word to Akee and the Hadati.

  I want them moving into those trees to the right of our position. Look for flanking bowmen trying to infiltrate the woods.”

  The messenger ran off, and Erik turned to Richard. “Nothing to do now but fight.” He put on his helm and walked to where a groom held his horse. He mounted and rode quickly forward, inspecting the position of the three diamonds. As he had known would be the case, Jadow had the men positioned as well as could be, and they were his hardest troops, with the Crimson Eagles holding the center diamond. Jadow waved from the center of the middle diamond and Erik saluted him. As an officer he could have delegated command to a sergeant and remained with the horse units, but Erik knew that, at heart, Lieutenant Jadow Shati from the Vale of Dreams would always be a sergeant.

  “Tith-Onanka strengthen your arm!” Erik shouted.

  The men in the diamond cheered their commander.

  Then the invaders broke formation and charged, and the battle was on.

  Tomas watched as Acaila meditated. Tathar and another elf sat with him at three points of a triangle.

  Tomas had asked for their wisdom and Acaila had agreed to use his mystic powers to provide guidance.

  At the end of the Riftwar Tomas had vowed to never leave Elvandar unprotected. Now Tomas wondered if that oath would ultimately lead to the destruction of the thing he had sworn to protect.

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  Tomas knew ancient lore, lived through the memories of the being whose powers he had inherited.

  Ashen-Shugar, last of the Valheru, had become for a time one with Tomas, and much of his power resided still in the former kitchen boy from Crydee. With but a few others, Tomas understood the powers behind much of what had shaped his life.

  In days past, beyond numbering, Ashen-Shugar and his brethren had flown the skies on the backs of dragons. They had hunted like the predators they were, both creatures without intelligence, and creatures with. In their arrogance they counted themselves among the mightiest beings in creation and had no concept of their own delusions.

  Tomas had over the years come to understand that what he knew from Ashen-Shugar was truth as Ashen-Shugar knew it. He knew how the ancient Valheru felt, thought, and remembered, but because the Valheru believed it true didn’t make it so.

  Alone of his kind, Ashen-Shugar avoided the influence of Draken-Korin, who Tomas now knew was a pawn of the Nameless One, the god whose name alone invites destruction. The human in Tomas considered it ironic that the Nameless One used Valheru vanity and their own certainty of their omnipotence to destroy them eventually. The Valheru portion of Tomas’s nature felt rage at the thought his race had been nothing more than a tool, and one used and discarded when it was no longer effective.

  Tomas looked at the three elves and knew it would be a while before Acaila had wisdom to share.

  He left the contemplation glade and walked through Elvandar. Across the way he noticed Subai and 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 505

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  Pahaman of Natal talking. Rangers rarely talked to anyone besides other Rangers and occasionally the elves, so Tomas knew that in Subai, Pahaman had found one he considered
kin.

  The laughter of children pulled Tomas like a lodestone. He found a dozen little ones playing a game of tag. Tomas saw his son, Calis, sitting next to the woman from across the sea, Ellia. They sat close, her hand in his, and Tomas felt a warmth toward his son. He knew that he would never father another child, for it was a special magic that gave life to his son. He had played his part in destroying the great threat to all life on Midkemia, the Lifestone, and now his fate was his own. But Calis would never father children, so Tomas’s line ended with his son.

  Yet at play were two elven children, Tilac and Chapac, who seemed family. Yet even the names of the boys, alien on the ears of those born in Elvandar, reminded Tomas that there would never be a place in the world where he entirely belonged. He smiled at Calis. Like his son, he had forged a place for himself, and was content with it.

  Calis waved at his father and said, “Join us.”

  Ellia smiled at Tomas, but it was a smile tempered with uncertainty. Rid of Ashen-Shugar’s Valheru mind during the Riftwar and cleansed of many of the lingering effects of that meld of human and Valheru by the Lifestone, Tomas nevertheless bore the Valheru stamp upon him. To any of the edhel—the elven races—there would almost be an instinctive response, a subservience that bordered on fear. Tomas knelt next to his son. “There is much to be thankful for.”

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  side and she smiled. Tomas was almost certain eventually they would wed. The boys’ father had died during the war in Novindus that had led to the invasion of the Kingdom. With a very low birthrate and a high percentage of marriage by those who under-went the “recognition,” the instinctive knowledge of who their mates were, there was little hope for a widow to find a second husband. As Calis had lived most of his life among humans and was half-human himself, there was no mate for him among his mother’s people. Tomas felt that fate had chosen to deal kindly with his son by bringing this woman and her sons to Elvandar.

  Tomas said, “There is much to concern us with the news Subai brings.”

  Calis looked down. “I know. I feel as if it might be wise for me to return to the Kingdom and to again serve.”

  Tomas put his hand on his son’s shoulder.

  “You’ve done your share. I think it’s time for me to return to the Kingdom.”

  Calis looked at his father. “But you said—”

  “I know, but if this threat is what you and I both know it could be, then if we do not deal with it now, down near Ylith, we will deal with it someday, only we will be fighting here.”

  Ellia said, “This is the same madness that destroyed my village across the sea.” Her accent was odd by elven standards, but she was mastering the tongue of her ancestors. “They are evil beyond measure. They are black of soul and have no hearts.”

  She glanced at her sons playing. “Only a miracle sent Miranda to save us. They had killed all the other children in the village.”

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  Tomas said, “I’m waiting for Acaila’s wisdom on this, but I think I must fly to Sorcerer’s Island and take council with Pug, as well.”

  Calis said, “With the demon destroyed, I thought it but an issue between men.”

  Tomas shook his head. “If I understand a tenth of what I have been told, it will never be merely an issue between men. There will always be far greater powers behind those men, and at each turn those powers must be balanced.”

  Tomas stood up. “I will see you at supper?”

  Calis said, “I dine with Ellia and the boys.”

  Tomas smiled. “I will tell your mother.”

  He wandered through Elvandar, home for most of his life, and as he did every day, he marveled that he was allowed to live here. If there was a more beautiful place in creation to live, he couldn’t imagine it.

  This was part of his reason for vowing to never leave, to always be here to protect it, for he couldn’t imagine the world without Elvandar.

  He continued and found himself returning eventually to the contemplation glade. Acaila had roused himself from his meditation and was walking toward Tomas. His expression was clouded with worry.

  Tomas was surprised, as the ancient leader of the Eldar rarely revealed his thoughts this casually.

  Tomas asked, “You’ve seen something?”

  To Tathar and the other elf, Acaila said, “Thank you for your guidance.” He took Tomas by the elbow and said, “Walk with me, my friend.”

  He led Tomas through a quiet part of the woods, away from the kitchens and shops, near the edge of the inner circle of Elvandar. When he was certain they were alone, Acaila said, “Something dark still 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 508

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  lingers in Krondor.” He looked at Tomas.

  “Something wonderful, too. I cannot explain it, but an old power for good verges upon returning.

  Perhaps the universe is trying to put itself right.”

  Acaila led the Eldar, the ancient line of elves who had been closest to the Valheru. Tomas had come to value his counsel. He had a perspective unique and vast.

  “But whatever force for good there is, the evil unleashed by the demon before it was destroyed is still stronger,” Acaila continued. “That dark agency has servants, and they are building power in Ylith and Z?n and now in LaMut.”

  “What Subai said about human sacrifice?”

  Acaila said, “It is a thing of great evil and great power, and it grows by the day. The servants of such evil often are dupes and have no idea of what they bring upon themselves as well as others. They do not know they destroy their own souls first. As soulless men they feel no remorse, no shame, no regret. They merely act on impulse, seeking what they think they want, glory, power, wealth, the trappings of might.

  They do not realize they have already lost and anything they do serves only waste and destruction.”

  Tomas was silent for a while, then said, “I have Valheru memory, so those impulses are well known to me.”

  “Your Valheru forebears lived in different times, my friend. The universe was ordered differently. The Valheru were natural forces, serving neither good nor evil.

  “But this thing is a thing of evil, apart from any other consideration, and it must be rooted out and destroyed. And to do so, the forces which strive to 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 509

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  endure and survive the onslaught will need help.”

  Tomas said, “So I leave to lend my strength.”

  Acaila said, “Of all of us here, you alone have the means to tip the balance to good.”

  “I will leave and find Pug,” said Tomas.

  “Together we will do what we must to save the Kingdom and prevent the rise of this evil in Krondor.”

  “Go to the Queen,” said Acaila, “and know whatever you do, you do for her and your son.”

  Tomas gripped Acaila’s hand and left.

  Later that night, after dining with his wife and a lingering good-bye, Tomas returned to the clearing north of the center of the forest. He was now dressed in his white-and-gold armor. A legacy of an ancient past, the armor was without blemish or scratch. He had reclaimed his golden sword with the white hilt when his son had unraveled the mystery of the Lifestone. His hand rested on its hilt, and he wore his white shield with the golden dragon emblazoned on it over his shoulder. He looked to the sky and sent forth a call. He waited.

  Men lay dead and dying on all sides. Erik stood exhausted, a mound of dead enemies before him.

  Sometime during the afternoon his horse had gone out from under him courtesy of a stray arrow.

  Twice he had been tempted to order retreat, but on both occasions his men had rallied and the enemy had been thrown back. He vaguely rec
alled a lull during the afternoon in which he had greedily drunk from a waterskin and eaten something; he couldn’t remember what.

  Horns had sounded from the other side a few 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 510

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  minutes before, and the enemy withdrew. The diamonds had held, and a thousand or more men had died trying to take them. Erik couldn’t begin to guess how many defenders had died as well. He knew he’d get a body count in the morning.

  Leland rode up and said, “My father’s compliments, Captain.”

  Erik nodded, trying to get his thoughts organized.

  “I’ll be along presently, Lieutenant.”

  Erik bent and cleaned his sword on the tunic of a dead man before him, then put it in his scabbard and looked over the field. He had ended up in the gap between the center diamond and the one on the right.

  The bodies before him were waist-high. He turned toward Jadow Shati, who yelled, “I hope we don’t have to do that again anytime soon, man!”

  Erik waved. “Not until tomorrow.” He headed toward Earl Richard’s tent. When he got there he found two bodies being dragged out of the tent by guards, and the old Earl sitting at his table, an orderly bandaging his arm.

  “What happened?” asked Erik.

  “Some of the enemy got loose on your left flank, Captain, and actually got here. I finally got to use this sword.”

  “How do you feel?” asked Erik.

  “Like hell, Captain.” He looked at the orderly, who finished tying off the bandage, and waved him away. “Still, I can at last feel like a soldier.

  “You know,” he said, leaning back, “I once rode a patrol, and we saw some Keshians who ran across the border when they saw us, and until today that was as close as I had come to being in an actual battle.” He got a distant look. “That was forty years ago, 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 511

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  Erik.”

  Erik sat. “I envy you.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” said Richard. “What next?”