Shards of a Broken Crown

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Shards of a Broken Crown Page 54

by Raymond E. Feist


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  Jimmy crested a rise and saw a baggage train before him. Most of the baggage handlers were boys, but a few guards stood ready to defend the Keshian supplies. Dash shouted, “Don’t kill the boys!” and then pulled his sword. The baggage boys scattered, but the Keshian Dog Soldiers guarding the baggage train stood firm, and the battle was on.

  Dash raced along the walls as the Keshians began their assault. The Keshian herald had been polite in his contempt, a quality Dash would have found more admirable had he not been in a nearly murderous rage over Trina’s death. It had taken all the self-con-trol he could manage to not grab a bow and take the herald out of his saddle when he came for the third time, demanding the surrender of the city.

  Patrick was back in his castle, under guard against another attack by agents of Kesh. Dash put aside the sinking feeling in his stomach that, if they should somehow survive the assault on the city, it would be a search of tedious proportions to uncover all the agents of Kesh.

  Trumpets sounded and war horns blew, and the Keshian infantry marched forward. In files of ten men, they carried ladders. Dash could hardly believe they’d assault first with scaling ladders, without heavy machines or a turtle to protect the men. Then a hundred bowmen rode into view, and Dash called out, “Get ready to duck!”

  A horn sounded and the men with the ladders broke into a run, while the horse archers spurred their mounts forward, between them. The horsemen, unleashed a barrage of arrows, and Dash hoped all his men had heard the warning to duck. A clattering 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 603

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  of arrows against stones and shields and the absence of more than a few oaths and screams told him most had understood. Then his own bowmen rose up and delivered a withering fire down on those below the wall. Dash crouched down behind a merlon and said,

  “Pass the word: target those with the ladders. Worry about the archers later.”

  The soldiers on both sides passed the word, and Krondorian archers jumped up and fired at the ladder-bearers. They ducked as another round of arrows flew at the walls. Dash duck-walked to the rear of the rampart and called down to one of his constables,

  “Keep the patrols active. They may still be trying to get in through the sewers.”

  The constable ran off and Dash returned to his place on the wall. A palace guardsman ran over and said, “We found the spy, sir.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Another clerk. Man name of Ammes. He just walked into the squad room and told us you’d ordered every man to the gate.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Dead,” said the guardsman. “He was one of those trying to seize the South Palace Gate, and he died during the fighting.”

  Dash nodded, making a mental note to make sure no palace servant or functionary stayed in place without a thorough investigation. The period when the Prince had resided in Darkmoor and Dash had overseen the transition from Duko’s rule to Patrick’s return had been too lax. Malar and other agents had easily insinuated themselves into the palace.

  Which also meant Kesh had plans for this offensive long before the truce at Darkmoor last year.

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  Dash kept his rage bottled up, his frustration and anger at Trina’s death and the assault on the city. He vowed that should Keshians come over the wall, he would personally kill more of the enemy than any man defending the city.

  And should the city endure, he would see that his promise to Trina was not made in vain.

  They landed in a clearing a few miles from the city. Pug staggered as he got off the dragon’s back and sat down on the grass.

  Miranda sat next to her husband and said, “Are you all right?”

  Pug said, “My mind is still swimming.”

  Tomas said, “Where to next?”

  “Many places,” said Nakor. “And not all of us together.” To Tomas he said, “Why don’t you have your friend fly you home to your wife? There is still much work to be done, but you can return home knowing you’ve saved Elvandar and its inhabitants from problems for the near future.”

  “I would like to hear a few things first,” said Tomas.

  “Yes,” said Miranda. “What was that creature?”

  “I have no knowledge of anything like him,” said Tomas. “And the memories I inherited from Ashen-Shugar are extensive.”

  “That’s because no Valheru ever encountered anything like Zaltais,” said Nakor, sitting on the grass next to Pug. “Mostly because he was not a creature.”

  “Not a creature?” asked Miranda. “Could you attempt to just explain without the usual convolution?”

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  Nakor smiled. “Right now you remind me of your mother, the good parts.”

  “There were good parts?” said Miranda with thinly veiled contempt.

  In the most wistful tone anyone had ever heard from him, Nakor said, “Yes, there were, once, a very long time ago.”

  “What about Zaltais?” asked Pug.

  “Fadawah was lured to practicing dark magic by his advisor, Kahil,” Nakor said. “I think Kahil has been behind everything that went on in Novindus from the start. He was a dupe, a tool of the Pantathians, who somehow managed a degree of freedom, and he used that to create a position for himself, one where he could manipulate others . . .”

  He hesitated, then continued, “The same way Jorna became Lady Clovis and controlled the Overlord and Dahakon years ago. Kahil was at Fadawah’s side from the start. He avoided destruction and continued to advise and . . . well, I suspect he convinced Fadawah to turn to the very powers that destroyed the Emerald Queen and the Demon King. He served that power we do not speak of, and like most of the Nameless One’s minions, he did not even know who he served . . . he was just driven.”

  “Zaltais?” prodded Miranda. “What did you mean when you said he wasn’t a creature?”

  “He was not of this reality, more so than the demons or even the dread. He was a thing from the Seventh Circle of Hell.”

  “But what was he?” asked Pug.

  “He was a thought, probably a dream.”

  “A thought?” asked Tomas.

  Pug said, “And when I looked into the rift?”

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  “You saw the mind of a God.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Pug.

  Nakor patted him on the shoulder. “You will in a few hundred years. For now, consider that a God slept and as he slept he dreamed, and in that dream he fancied some tiny creature spoke his name and in doing so became his tool. In that dream that tool created havoc and called to him and he sent his Angel of Despair to answer the call. And the Angel served the tool.”

  “Why couldn’t Zaltais be killed?” asked Miranda.

  Nakor smiled. “You can’t kill a dream, Miranda.

  Even an evil dream. You can only send it back to where it came from.”

  Tomas touched his lip. “That dream seemed con-crete enough to me.”

  “Oh,” said Nakor, “a God’s dream is reality.”

  Pug said, “We should go.”

  “Where?” asked Miranda. “Back to the island?”

  “No,” said Nakor. “We should tell the Prince the leadership of the enemy is dead.”

  “Krondor, then,” said Pug.

  “One thing, though,” said Miranda.

  “What?” asked Nakor.

  “You mentioned some time ago that the demon Jakan replaced Mother at the head of that army, but you never said anything about what happened to her.”

  Nakor said, “Your mother is dead.”

  “Are you
certain?” asked Miranda.

  Nakor nodded. “Very certain.”

  Pug stood up, still feeling shaky. Tomas said,

  “Ryana will bear me back to Elvandar.”

  Pug embraced his old friend and said, “Again, we 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 607

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  say good-bye.”

  “And we’ll meet again,” answered Tomas.

  “Fare you well, old friend,” said Pug.

  “And you three as well,” said Tomas.

  He climbed aboard the dragon’s back and she leaped into the sky. Two beats of her wings and she banked off to the west and started on the journey back to Elvandar.

  Pug said, “Are you up to getting us all to Krondor?”

  Miranda said, “I can manage.” She took them both by the hands and closed her eyes, and reality swam around them.

  They appeared in the great hall of the Prince’s palace in Krondor as the war horns sounded the call for the reserves to come to the main gate.

  Gustaf said, “If you can’t slip inside the gate and unlock it—”

  “Kick it down,” finished Dash.

  They heard the rumble as the ram was rolled down the road toward the main gate. The road into the city from the east was a long incline from a series of rolling hills, and the ram was a huge one, fashioned from five trees lashed together by heavy ropes.

  Horsemen rode on either side with guide ropes, and as they reached the last stretch of road before the gate, they released the ropes and veered off.

  The ram picked up speed and the rumbling grew louder as the ram closed to within fifty yards of the gate. As it bore down, Dash reflexively gripped the stones of the wall as he anticipated the impact.

  Then someone shoved between Gustaf and Dash and stuck his hand over the wall. A sheet of light 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 608

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  extended from the man’s hand, and Dash turned to see his great-grandfather standing next to him.

  “Enough!” Pug shouted, his anger clearly evident on his face as the ram exploded into a thousand flaming splinters.

  Whatever the Keshians expected, this display of magic wasn’t it. Their attack, timed to coincide with the ram smashing the gate, faltered as men on horseback were suddenly greeted by the sight of a very high wall surmounted by archers instead of an open gate for them to charge through.

  They pulled up and milled around in confusion, as the defenders on the wall unleashed a barrage of arrows. Pug shouted, “No!” and with a wave of his hands sent out a curtain of heat that turned the arrows into flaming cinders that fell far short of their mark. Turning to Dash, he said, “I don’t see any other officers. Are you in charge here?”

  Dash said, “For the moment.”

  “Then order your men to stop shooting.”

  Dash did so, and the Keshians retreated to their lines unharmed. Pug said, “Send a herald to the Keshian commander. Tell him I want to meet with the commander of that army in the Prince’s palace in one hour’s time.”

  “In the palace?” asked Dash.

  “Yes, when he gets here, open the gate and let him in.”

  “What if he won’t come?”

  Pug turned his back, motioned to Nakor and Miranda on the rear of the gatehouse, and said,

  “He’ll come, or I’ll destroy his army.”

  “But what do I tell him?” asked Dash.

  “Tell him the war is over.”

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  A pale and weak-looking Patrick stood before his throne as General Asham ibin Al-tuk marched into the throne room, flanked by a guard and a servant.

  He bowed perfunctorily. “I am here, Highness.”

  Patrick said, “I did not call this meeting.”

  Pug stepped forward and said, “I did.”

  “And you are?” asked the General.

  “I am called Pug.”

  The General raised an eyebrow in recognition.

  “The magician at Stardock.”

  “The same.”

  “Why have you, summoned me?”

  “To tell you to take your army and go home.”

  The General said, “If you think that display outside the gate will turn my attention—”

  A guard ran in and said, “Highness, fighting has erupted!”

  The General said, “I am under a flag of truce!”

  Patrick asked the guard, “Where is the fighting?”

  “Outside the wall! It appears as if cavalry from both the north and south has attacked the Keshians.”

  Patrick said, “General, those are units not presently under my command. They are obviously riding to relieve Krondor and do not know of the truce. You are free to rejoin your men.”

  The General bowed and turned to leave, but Pug said, “No!”

  “What?” asked both the Prince and the General simultaneously.

  Pug said, “This will end now!”

  He vanished from sight.

  Nakor, who had been standing in the corner near Miranda, said, “For a tired man he manages to get 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 610

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  around, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, he does,” Miranda agreed with a faint smile.

  Pug appeared over the heart of the battlefield and saw that baggage wagons were afire at the rear of the Keshian position and that a company of horse was attacking along the coast road from the north, catching the Keshians between two attacking columns.

  Pug hovered a hundred feet above the battle and clapped his hands together, and a peal of thunder struck those below, knocking some of the riders directly underneath him out of their saddles.

  Men looked up and saw a man floating in the air, and from that man a brilliant light erupted, a golden glow that was as bright as the sun. His voice carried to every man as if he were standing next to them:

  “This ends now!”

  With a wave of his hand he sent a force through the air, a ripple which visibly distorted the air. The wave hit horses and knocked them down, throwing more men to the ground.

  Men turned and ran.

  Jimmy sat firm on a bucking, frantic horse, trying to bring the animal under control. After two more kicks, the animal set out at a run, and Jimmy let it, turning it and then bringing it to a halt. He turned the animal around and saw more animals running in every direction as Keshians raced back toward their burning wagons.

  Then he glanced up to where Pug hung in the air and again came Pug’s voice: “This ends now.”

  Then Pug vanished.

  Nakor said, “Well, at least you got them to stop 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 611

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  fighting for a while.” The three of them sat in an abandoned room in the palace, after the Prince had retired and the Keshian General returned to his army.

  “I will get them to stop for good,” said Pug.

  “Or what?” asked Miranda.

  Pug said, “I’m sick of killing. I’m sick of destruction. But more than anything, I’m sick of the mindless stupidity I see on every side of me.” Pug thought of the losses to war he had endured, from his childhood friend Roland and Lord Borric to Owen Greylock, a man he had not known well, but one whom he had found himself liking from their winter together at Darkmoor. “Too many good men. And too many innocents. It can’t go on. If I have to . . . I don’t know, put up a wall between both armies, I’ll do it.”

  Nakor said, “You’ll think of something. When the Prince and the General have time to calm down, you can tell them what you want.”

  “When are you meeting again?” asked Miranda.

  “Tomorrow at noon.”

  “Good,” said Nakor. “That gives me time to see if what I think has happened has happened.”

 
“You’re being cryptic again,” said Miranda.

  Nakor smiled. “Come along and see. We’ll get something to eat.”

  He led them out of the room, then out of the palace, past guards who stood an uneasy watch knowing they might have to return to the walls and a terrible fight at a moment’s notice.

  As they left the palace, they saw horsemen riding into the marshaling yard through the southern gate.

  At their head Pug saw his other great-grandson and waved.

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  Jimmy rode over and said, “I saw that display, Pug.” He grinned and Pug’s heart squeezed slightly when for a second he saw Gamina’s smile echoed in it. “You saved a lot of my men’s lives. Thank you.”

  Pug said, “I’m pleased you were among those who benefited.”

  “Is Dash . . . ?”

  “He’s inside, alive, and until Patrick regains his strength, in command of the city.”

  Jimmy laughed. “Somehow I don’t think he enjoys that very much.”

  “Go see him,” said Pug. “We’re going to Nakor’s temple and will be back in the morning. We have a general meeting at noon to end this nonsense.”

  Jimmy said, “I will be more than pleased to see that. Duko’s a marvel, and he’s managed to keep the South under control, despite this Keshian adventure, but we’re sorely tested along both borders, and I haven’t any idea how things go in the North.”

  “That war is finished, too.

  Jimmy said, “I am relieved to hear that, Great-grandfather. I will see you in the morning.”

  Nakor said, “Let’s go. I want to see what’s happened.”

  They hurried through a city cautiously returning to normal activities as people ventured out of their houses. With so few people about, they reached the Temple Quarter of the city quickly.

  No one was visible outside the tent, but once they stepped through, they saw a crowd sitting on the floor. In the center of the room the woman Aleta sat on the floor, rather than floating in the air, and the light about her was gone. So was the ill-aspected 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 613

 

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