Erik ran.
Drums rolled as he dashed through the halls of the old castle at Tannerus. He reached the open doorway at the top of the stairs heading down into the courtyard. In one quick glimpse he saw it all, the assembled soldiers bearing witness to the execution, the four men standing upon wooden supports, the ropes already around their necks. Erik shouted, ‘No!’ as he leaped over the railing to the second landing below, but the sounds of the drums drowned him out. Erik half-flew down the remaining stairs into the courtyard as the drums halted and the supports were kicked out from under the condemned. He ran the twenty yards to where the men stood at attention, and saw that three of the men had died instantly of broken necks, and the fourth had ceased his brief twitching.
Erik stopped. ‘Damn!’ he swore.
The order to dismiss the formation was given, and the troops of the Tannerus garrison broke ranks and hurried back to their duties. No man wanted to linger while another soldier twisted in the wind.
Erik stood nearly breathless as he watched his men swinging below the makeshift gallows. The captain had wasted little time in putting the condemned to death. Had he ordered a half-decent gallows be erected, Erik would have gotten here in time. Erik searched the faces of the dead. He knew them by sight, but not yet by name. Still, they were his men.
Captain Simon de Beswick turned his horse and saw Erik standing there. ‘Is something amiss, Sergeant Major?’
Erik studied the foppish officer, just rotated in from the East. Erik and another company of the Prince’s soldiers had been ordered into the field, and he discovered that de Beswick would ride with them to Tannerus. De Beswick was seconded to the Prince’s court, and assigned garrison duty in the north. The two men had taken an instant dislike to each other. The only person to whom de Beswick was civil was Owen Greylock, because of his rank, senior to de Beswick’s. He refused any conversation with any enlisted man save in the line of duty, and was uniformly rude and abusive to the men. It had been with relief that Erik had taken half the men into the field for a week’s field training, while the other half had remained to be trained in garrison defense. Erik had just returned to be informed at the gate that four of his men were being hanged. Erik balled his right hand into a fist, and said, ‘Why were those men executed?’
‘They pilfered stores,’ said de Beswick, raising his eyebrows as if asking a question.
‘Those were my men,’ Erik said with menace in his voice, almost a growl.
‘Then tend to them better, Sergeant Major, and address me as “sir,” in future.’
The captain made to ride past, and Erik seized the reins of his horse. ‘You had no right to hang my men. We’re not even in your command!’
De Beswick said, ‘I had every right, as commander of the garrison here at Tannerus, and I certainly do not need to explain my actions to you, Sergeant Major.’ Slowly drawing his sword, he said, ‘Now, please be good enough to release my horse, or I shall be forced to kill you for assaulting an officer.’
Owen Greylock caught up with Erik, and said, ‘Put up that sword, de Beswick!’
‘Knight-Captain?’ said the garrison commander.
‘That’s an order,’ said Greylock calmly.
Reluctantly de Beswick put the sword away. Owen put his hand on Erik’s shoulder and said, ‘Sergeant Major, see to your men. I’ll take care of this.’
Owen waited until Erik had left, then turned and grabbed de Beswick by the boot, lifting suddenly. As Owen expected, de Beswick came flying out of his saddle, and as his horse galloped away, the captain from Bas-Tyra landed hard upon the dirt of the courtyard.
Owen grabbed the young man by the collar and hauled him to his feet. Looking into his eyes with an expression that could only be called murderous, he said, ‘We have a war coming and you’re killing our soldiers?’
‘They were thieves!’ said the now-fearful de Beswick.
‘Half the men in this army are thieves, you idiot.’
Owen let him go with a slight shove, and de Beswick landed hard upon his backside again. Leaning over, Greylock pointed to where Erik had gone. ‘That man may be the best soldier I’ve ever known, and I’ve been training them for thirty years. When this war comes, you incompetent lily, he is your best hope for staying alive. If you have the brains the gods give a flea, you will try to learn everything he has to teach you about surviving in these mountains. If you cross him one more time, I will give him permission to call you out, and if you face him with sword in hand, he will kill you. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ said the younger captain, and it was obvious he didn’t like what he was hearing.
‘Now get yourself back to your command, de Beswick, while I decide what I’m going to say to Knight-Marshal William in my next missive.’
As the captain started to leave, Greylock said, ‘One more thing, de Beswick.’
‘Sir?’ asked the captain.
‘If Captain Calis had been here, he would have killed you, and that’s a certainty.’
After the young commander of the garrison had departed, Owen went looking for Erik. He found him in the soldiers’ commons, asking the men of his command what had happened.
‘It was nothing,’ said a man named Gunther. ‘It was a lark, pure and simple, Sergeant Major. We were tired after a long day of parading –’
‘Parading?’ asked Erik.
‘Yes, standing formations, marching up and down, turnin’ right, then left, that sort of business.’
Another man, an old soldier named Johnson, said, ‘It’s that Eastern Army sort of business, Sergeant Major. Not fighting, but marchin’ in lines and the like.’
‘Anyway, those four lads just wanted to nick a little ale from the ale shed, nothing criminal.’
Erik could see the men were in a foul mood, and he didn’t blame them. If caught, the men should have stood extra punishment watches, or at worst a flogging, but to hang them was beyond excuse. He was about to say something when Greylock spoke. ‘Erik, a word with you.’
Erik came over to the former Swordmaster from Darkmoor and said, ‘I know, I shouldn’t have interfered.’
Seeing they were out of hearing range of the soldiers, Owen said, ‘Probably you should have killed him, but that’s not the issue. Give him a wide berth; he may be looking to goad you.’
‘Why?’
‘He’s from a well-connected family in Bas-Tyra. His father is a cousin to the Duke of Ran.’
Comprehension dawned on Erik. ‘Which means his family is probably close to the von Darkmoors.’
‘Maybe. I know they know each other, but close? I don’t really know. He could be one of Mathilda’s agents,’ said Owen. The slender man rubbed his chin in thought. ‘Or some idiot who thinks to curry favor from the Baron’s mother by ridding her of a bothersome threat to her son’s title.’
Erik sighed. ‘How many times do I have to tell the world I have no interest in my father’s title?’
Owen said, ‘No matter how many times you do say it, Mathilda won’t be satisfied until you’re dead.’
‘What should I do?’
‘I’ll send a note to Duke James and let him intercede with William to transfer this idiot to someplace where he may die gloriously for the King. I’m going to recommend he command the catapults on the seawall they’re building in Krondor.’
Erik winced. ‘I thought it was going to be manned by volunteers.’
‘It is. We’ll just see that young de Beswick volunteers.’ Owen smiled. ‘Take your other company out at first light. Don’t linger here. I have to move on to Eggly and see to the defenses there. We’re going to have to put up a convincing fight throughout these hills to force the Emerald Queen’s army where we want it.’
Erik sighed. So much to do and so little time to prepare. He knew the fleet had departed from Novindus; all those who had served with Calis across the sea knew that. ‘What of Krondor?’
Owen shrugged. ‘Rumors. Some timid folks are starting to leave the city. Nothing that’s stirring up real alarm. There’s a lot of movement along the Keshian frontier, so many folks are thinking we may have war in the south again.’
‘It’s going to be difficult to keep the city under control once the fleet clears the Straits,’ said Erik.
‘I know. I expect James and William have come up with a solution.’
Erik said nothing more. The Queen’s fleet would clear the Straits in less than a month’s time, at the Midsummer Festival. He had fears that the city would be the ultimate sacrifice for the good of the Kingdom, but the problem for him was that the girl he loved was in the city. As Erik left Owen, and gave orders that the company in the garrison would be rotated out in the morning, he wondered if he could prevail upon Roo to help get Kitty out of Krondor.
Roo looked at the books and said, ‘I don’t understand.’
Jason took that to mean he was vague on the methods of accounting, and began explaining it again.
‘No,’ interrupted Roo. ‘I know the sums and the calculations. What I mean is I don’t understand why we’re losing money.’
Jason, the former waiter at Barret’s who had become the chief accountant for Roo’s financial empire, said, ‘It’s a problem with too many debts not being paid to us and too many bills we’re paying in timely fashion. We’re borrowing money for things we should have paid for out of our cash reserves.’
‘Which are nonexistent,’ said Roo. He had lent every available golden sovereign to Duke James. ‘Well, I have about as much chance of a loan repayment from the Crown anytime soon as I do of learning how to fly.’ He sighed, stood up from the table in his office and said, ‘What do you recommend?’
Jason, still looking much like the youth who had first befriended Roo three years earlier, said, ‘You could sell off some of our less profitable concerns.’
‘True, but I hate to get rid of capital assets.’ He yawned. ‘I’m tired.’ Glancing out the window, he saw that night had fallen. ‘What of the clock?’
Jason turned and looked down the hall to where the fancy Keshian timepiece had been erected. ‘It’s almost seven of the clock.’
‘Karli will be furious,’ he said. ‘I promised to be home at six.’
‘The family’s in the city?’
‘Yes,’ said Roo, grabbing his cloak and hurrying down the hall.
Fortunately, by the time Roo reached his house, he found Karli lost in conversation with Helen Jacoby. The two women had struck up a guarded friendship after the death of Randolph Jacoby, awkward because Randolph’s brother had been responsible for the death of Karli’s father. But in the main they seemed to enjoy each other’s company, and the four children played well together. And Roo found that he always enjoyed those evenings when both families gathered.
‘There you are,’ said Karli. ‘Supper will be served in a few moments.’
Cries of ‘Daddy!’ and ‘Uncle Rupert!’ filled the hall as the children swarmed over him. Laughing, Roo fought his way through the tangle of legs and grasping hands, and made his way to the stairs.
As Abigail started to follow him up the stairs, he said, ‘I’ll be down shortly, darling.’
‘No!’ she announced imperiously. ‘Go away!’
With a regal turn, she walked to the end of the hall and stood with her arms crossed. From his position on the stairs, Roo glanced at the two women in the parlor, and Helen was laughing while Karli looked astonished.
Helen said, ‘They all go through that.’
Roo nodded and hurried up to his and Karli’s room, where he washed up and changed his shirt. He returned to the dining room, where the children carried on at one end of the long table while Roo and Karli sat with Helen Jacoby at the other end.
Roo noticed Helen had taken to wearing her hair up in the new style, curls set around the forehead, and ringlets falling from an odd-looking comb. Roo wondered if it would be rude to ask what the comb was made of, then realized he had almost no idea what the latest fashions in the Prince’s City were.
He thought Sylvia would know, and then realized he rarely saw Sylvia dressed anymore, and besides somehow it seemed improper to be thinking of her while his wife and Helen were sitting next to him.
‘Why, Roo,’ said Helen, ‘you’re blushing!’
Roo feigned a cough, then said, ‘Something in my throat.’ He made a display of furiously coughing, then dabbing at nonexistent tears in his eyes with his napkin.
Helen laughed again, and Roo was astonished to discover how lovely she was. He had always thought of her as a fine-looking woman – nothing like the beauty Sylvia was, but in her evening finery with her hair done up, she was quite attractive.
Karli said, ‘Helen tells me you are doing well by her in running her company.’
Roo shrugged. ‘It pretty much runs itself. Tim Jacoby’ – he was about to say the man was a swine who knew his business, but given his sister-in-law was sitting there, he changed it to – ‘was very organized.’
‘Yes, he was,’ agreed Helen.
Conversation turned to discussing small items of importance to the children and the landmarks of their growth. The boys were starting to act like boys and the girls were becoming girls, and the mysteries of children still seemed to Roo uncharted territory.
He looked at his own children and realized he knew next to nothing about them. He barely paid them any attention, and suddenly he felt very odd about that. Perhaps when they were older, they’d have something interesting to say to him.
His gaze wandered again to Helen Jacoby, and after a moment she looked his way. Realizing he was staring, he said, ‘Would you care for brandy?’
Karli looked surprised. In their house, he had never offered brandy to anyone but his business associates.
‘No. Thank you,’ she said. ‘By the time we get home it will be the children’s bedtime.’
The Jacoby family departed, riding in one of Roo’s carriages, and Karli put the children to bed. Roo sat alone in his study for a while, drinking a brandy that he could hardly taste. His mind was lost in worry; he knew that the war was coming and that it was time to get his family to the East, or at least out to his estate, ready to flee from there.
Conversations with Erik and Jadow Shati and others who trusted him had revealed the presence of invaders already within the borders of the Kingdom. Most of those had been neutralized, but when the fighting erupted, who knew how dangerous travel to the East would become?
Karli came down the stairs and asked, ‘Are you coming to bed?’
‘Yes,’ said Roo, ‘in a few minutes.’ As his wife started to turn away, he observed, ‘You seem to like Helen and her children.’
Karli said, ‘Yes, I do. Her people and mine came from the same village, and we have a lot in common. And her children are sweet.’
An idea came to Roo. ‘When the Midsummer Festival has passed, what do you say to having the Jacobys out to the estate for a few weeks? The children can swim in the stream, and ride horses.’
‘Roo, they’re too little to ride.’
‘Well then, we’ll get them some pony carts.’ He stood up. ‘The weather will be beastly hot and it will be much nicer out there.’
Karli said in a guarded tone, ‘You’re not trying to get me out of the way, are you, Rupert?’
Alarmed that she might suspect his affair with Sylvia, Roo took her in his arms. ‘Not that. I just think I’d like some quiet time with my family, that’s all.’
‘Having four children in the house instead of just two is hardly my idea of quiet,’ said Karli.
‘You know what I mean,’ he said, playfully swatting her bottom. He kissed her, and she responded. ‘Let’s go to bed.’
While somewhat distracted by worry, he was still able to please Karli, and after their lovemaking she lay asleep in his arms. He found himself visited by an odd confusion, for as was often the case he was thinking of someone else while making love to his wife, but this time he found himself thinking not of Sylvia Esterbrook but rather of Helen Jacoby.
Remembering Gwen, the serving girl back in Ravensburg whom he had lost his virginity to, he silently said to himself, ‘Gwen’s right; we are all pigs.’
Fatigue drove away this moment of lucidity, and Roo fell into a deep sleep.
Erik read the orders and said, ‘We’re recalled to Krondor.’
Corporals Harper and Reed both saluted and moved out briskly, calling out commands to the soldiers spread out in the hills.
Erik wiped his brow and calculated. He knew that most of the men in the hills were among the last to be trained, the last to be considered for the critical task of limiting the ability of the invaders to expand their front anywhere except where Prince Patrick and his advisers permitted. Most of these men would be assigned to the defense of the city, and if Erik judged things rightly, those garrison units slated to defend in the hills would soon be moving along in small groups, patrols ostensibly, so the Emerald Queen’s agents would have little to report.
Erik admired Knight-Marshal William’s plans, for it now looked as if all units scattered throughout the West were being recalled for the defense of the city.
Erik squinted at the sun. Midsummer was less than two weeks away, and he knew the Emerald Queen’s fleet must be nearing the Straits of Darkness. It was hotter than usual for this time of the year, and he knew that meant it was likely to be a miserable summer.
As the men gathered, he considered that even if the weather were perfect, it would be a miserable summer. Still, by the time the invaders reached these mountains, it would be late fall, and if they could hold them until the winter snows, the Kingdom would survive.
Harper returned, saying, ‘Word’s been passed, Sergeant Major, and we’ll be ready to march within the hour.’
‘Very good,’ said Erik. ‘Have you spotted Captain Greylock in the last few hours?’
‘About an hour ago, that way.’ The corporal pointed down the road.
‘When they’re ready, don’t wait for me, start them for Krondor.’ He glanced around the hills. ‘We have four hours of sunlight left, and I want a good ten miles behind us before we think about making camp.’
‘Yes, Sergeant Major.’
Erik mounted his horse and headed down the road to find Greylock by the side of the road, reading a map.
‘Owen,’ said Erik as he rode up.
‘Erik,’ said Owen. ‘Are you ready to march?’
‘In the process,’ said Erik, as he dismounted. ‘The corporals are getting them ordered and they should be under way in the next few minutes.’ Erik sat heavily on the side of the road and said, ‘I guess we’re done up here.’
‘Done with training,’ said Greylock. He let his horse crop grass at the roadside as he sat with Erik. ‘Next time we’re up here, we’ll be doing it for real.’
Erik said, ‘I’ve wished a thousand times for a few more days, a week, anything, to get these men into better shape.’
‘You’ve done wonders,’ said Greylock. ‘Honestly, I can’t imagine anyone could have gotten more from the men than you did, Erik. Not Calis, not Bobby de Loungville.’
‘Thanks for that, Owen.’ Erik sighed. ‘I still worry that it’s not enough.’
‘That hardly makes you unique, my young friend.’
‘Has Lord William told you what we’re going to do?’
‘Yes,’ said Greylock. He nodded back up the road. ‘At least our part of it. I can guess the rest.’
‘We’re going to lose Krondor, aren’t we?’
‘Probably,’ said Greylock. ‘You’ve seen what happens to cities that resist the Queen, but we’ve got to hold her at Krondor long enough so she gets into the mountains late.’
Erik looked up at the high, pale blue sky streaked with faint clouds far above. ‘If this weather holds, it could be a long summer.’
Greylock sighed. ‘I know. Prince Patrick has had some magicians with weather sight trying to gauge that, and they all say a long summer is likely.’
Erik said, ‘I keep wondering about those magicians. The Queen uses them. Why don’t we?’
Owen smiled. ‘I expect we’ll have a few magical surprises in store for them. But do you remember Nakor’s explanation of why you don’t use magicians in warfare? He repeated it often enough.’
Erik laughed. ‘Yes, I remember, “First magician throws spell in battle, then second magician throws counterspell, then third magician tries to help first magician, and fourth magician tries to aid second, then army shows up and chops them all while they’re throwing magic around,”’ he mimicked.
Greylock laughed. ‘You do a terrible impression of Nakor.’
Erik shrugged. ‘But the point is, if we don’t do something to counter her magicians we let them have a terrible advantage.’
Greylock stood. ‘Ah, my bones are getting too old for all this riding over the countryside.’ As he pulled his horse away from the grass at the roadside, he made a display of being old. Erik laughed. Greylock put the reins over the horse’s head, then set foot into stirrup and mounted. Once in the saddle, he said, ‘Erik, the more you talk, the more you sound like a Knight-General instead of a Sergeant Major. So don’t be asking those sorts of questions around the Prince, or he might promote you.’
Erik laughed. ‘In other words, keep my mouth shut.’
‘As I said,’ continued Greylock. ‘The Prince has some surprises up his sleeve, I’m sure.’
Erik mounted. ‘I’ll see you when I get the men back to the city.’
‘Good,’ said Greylock. ‘Oh, and one other thing.’
‘What?’
‘The local commanders are being called in for a last-minute council. The cover story is they’re coming in to celebrate Banapis with the Prince, but we know why. So that means de Beswick will be in Krondor.’
‘I’ll keep my eyes open.’
‘Good. The festival in Krondor is nothing like what you’re used to.’
Erik nodded. Since coming to the Prince’s service, he had managed to be out of the city every Banapis. He had never seen the city celebrate the Midsummer’s festival. ‘I’ll try not to get too distracted.’
Erik rode back toward where his men should be mustering. He hadn’t encountered de Beswick since leading this second company into the mountains. But the suspicion that he could be one of Mathilda von Darkmoor’s agents was not lost on Erik. Besides, Erik had four reasons to keep an eye on the man even if he wasn’t.
Erik stood stiffly at the rear of the room, the only non-titled non-officer in the room. Captains Calis and Greylock, the only men he knew well, were across the room with Knight-Marshal William, the Duke of Krondor, and the Prince, the only other men he recognized.
He was familiar with some of the others, members of the Prince’s Court, officers of the palace, local nobles, though he had spoken to only a few of them, on rare occasions. He knew within an hour or so, he’d be dismissed and he could squeeze out some personal time before having to get back to the orders that were sure to be waiting for him.
Patrick stood. ‘My lords, and gentlemen. I’m pleased to see you all in attendance. You will be given a full briefing in select groups. It’s no secret a hostile army is heading our way, and we’ve spent the last several months in preparation for this coming invasion.
‘Some of you know a great deal more than others, and for reasons of state security, I command you not to speculate among yourselves or share information. Assume that the man next to you is as knowledgeable as you, or more or less, and cannot give you any more information than you already have, so don’t ask questions.’
Some of the nobles seemed a bit taken aback by the order, but no one made a comment. A few glanced around the room, attempting to measure the reactions of others.
‘Now, to the general situation. This is what you must all know before hostilities begin.’ The Prince motioned to two squires, who removed a large cloth hanging from the wall. Behind the hanging was an immense map of the Western Realm, from the Far Coast to Malac’s Cross. The Prince picked up a long pointer and moved at once to the far left edge of the map. ‘Here,’ said Patrick, pointing to the Straits of Darkness, ‘we expect the enemy’s fleet within the next week.’
A few nobles muttered to one another, but the room quickly fell silent. ‘Between then and when they reach here’ – he pointed to a point north of the city of Land’s End – ‘we need to be fully mobilized. Therefore, you will spend the next week before Banapis in meetings, getting orders, and making ready. We shall all celebrate the Midsummer Festival as if nothing were amiss – we can’t alarm the populace, and already rumors are starting to circulate. Lord James?’
The Duke of Krondor said, ‘I have agents in the city right now, adding to those rumors. We’re not trying to deny the possibility that war is coming to Krondor, but we are giving the impression the trouble springs from Great Kesh. As Krondor hasn’t seen a Keshian army in over two hundred years, the population is currently more concerned about rising taxes and the possibility of travel to Shamata and Landreth being curtailed than about any immediate danger.’
James’s expression darkened. ‘That will quickly change. When ships due in from the Free Cities and Far Coast fail to appear because of the invaders’ fleet, word will quickly circulate from the docks to the outlying farms that something is coming from the west. When that happens, we’ll have to lock down Krondor.’
‘Martial law?’ asked one of the local nobles.
‘Yes,’ said Prince Patrick.
Duke James said, ‘Our enemy is dangerous, far more so than many of you can imagine. By the time we’re finished with all our meetings this week, you’ll have a better appreciation of that danger, but until then accept what I say at face: Krondor has never faced a trial such as the one coming.
‘We will impose curfew and, if possible, permit an orderly evacuation of the city before it is encircled. But once the enemy has landed, we will close the gates and Krondor will have to hold.’
‘Hold?’ said another noble. ‘What about help from the East?’
Patrick put up his hand. ‘Silence. As I said before, we will tell you only what you need to know. You will obey.’ His tone indicated there was to be no debate on this matter. If any of the nobles present felt slighted, they hid the fact.
Knight-Marshal William said, ‘So we are clear on the chain of command. First of all, Knight-Marshal William is now commander of the Armies of the West.’ He held up a document. ‘By order of the King.’ A few nobles looked interested, but no one seemed too shocked. By tradition, the Knight-Marshal of Krondor held rank equal to that of a Duke, and occasionally in the past, the Duke of Krondor had held both offices. Patrick then pointed to Calis. ‘Captain Calis has the acting rank of Knight-General of the Kingdom.’ Patrick held up another document. For a moment, the significance of what he had just said did not penetrate; then the jaws of several of the nobles dropped in astonishment, reflecting Erik’s own shock. Knight-General of the West would have placed him second in command of Principality troops. But Knight-General of the Kingdom put him second in command to Knight-Marshal William, and the superior of any Duke in the Kingdom.
Calis said, ‘I prefer to be referred to as “Captain,” in any event.’ Pointing out Erik, he said, ‘My second in command is Sergeant Major Erik von Darkmoor. Despite his modest rank, assume he speaks with my voice when he comes to you with orders.’
This set up a resentful muttering in the room. Patrick wasted no time in ending it: he struck the table with the pointer, letting the loud crack silence the nobles. ‘This special unit will operate independently of the traditional order of the Armies of the West, but if at any time you find yourself in a situation where you must decide if you are required to follow the orders of an officer of that special unit, let me make it clear: you will obey orders from any officer of any rank from that special unit as if they originated with the Crown. Is that abundantly clear?’
That left no room for misunderstanding. ‘Yes, Your Highness,’ said several of the nobles.
‘The units of the Special Command, under Lord Calis, the Royal Krondorian Pathfinders, and other special auxiliaries are all included in those orders. You will be provided with a complete list of those units before you depart for your own commands.’
Erik glanced around the room. Several of the Dukes in attendance were close to enraged at the orders, and hid the fact poorly. Patrick showed the training of his office by slamming the pointer on the table hard enough to break it. ‘My lords!’ he said in a loud but controlled voice.
Then he lowered his voice. ‘When this is over, you will understand why the creation of special units and the operation outside the traditional organization of the Armies of the West are imperative. I needn’t remind any of you what history taught us during the Riftwar: that a unified command is essential. As I have only one Knight-Marshal, I must leave it to him to decide how the troops under his command will be disposed.’
William, as if an actor moving on a cue, said, ‘We’ll organize the defense of the area around Krondor, utilizing most of the soldiers under your command, my lords. Those of you in command of nearby garrisons will return to those the day after Banapis. Those of you who have been called in from distant garrisons can expect to have your troops seconded to the Prince’s Garrison, under my direct command. A few of you will be asked to volunteer for particularly dangerous duty. Now, again I caution you about speaking to anyone outside this room about anything that you are privy to in the next week. Our foe is cunning and has agents everywhere, perhaps in your own commands. Trust no one outside this room. Until we meet with each of you in private, you are given leave to depart.’
Erik watched as the lords of the Western Realm of Krondor departed, many still barely in control of their fury. When the room was empty of all but Patrick, James, William, Calis, Erik, and a handful of court officials, Patrick said, ‘Well, that went better than I expected.’
Erik’s expression was open amazement. Calis said to him, ‘He means we didn’t have open rebellion.’
William laughed. ‘We held off telling them they’d been relegated to a secondary role until the last possible minute, but we could hold off no longer.’
Erik said, ‘I don’t think I fully understand.’
Calis said, ‘That’s as it should be.’ He asked his Prince, ‘Have I your leave to depart?’
‘Yes, you’d better hurry,’ said Patrick.
Erik glanced at William, who said, ‘A special mission.’
Erik had gotten used to Calis’s special missions since becoming his Sergeant Major. He put aside his curiosity and said, ‘Yes, sir.’
‘I’ve got a lot for you to do, Sergeant Major,’ said William. ‘But no need to start until I get through with those nobles who just left in such a foul mood. Take some time off this evening and relax. Starting at noon tomorrow, until Banapis, you’re going to be working from dawn to dusk.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Erik. ‘Is there anything else?’
‘Nothing right now, but start thinking about which of those last batch of trainees might serve in the mountains. Have a list of the fifty best on my desk by noon tomorrow.’
‘Yes, sir.’
William said, ‘I’ve already ordered three hundred of your best out at dawn tomorrow, under Colwin and Jadow Shati. Most of your command is moving out in small groups this week. I’ll bring you up to date at noon tomorrow. Until then, your time’s your own.’
Erik saluted, bade the Prince, the Duke, and the others good day, and departed. He hurried to his own quarters and sat down, going over a list of men with whom he had just returned from the mountains.
For a moment he felt defeat. The names meant nothing to him; how would he pick fifty to give some slightly better chance of survival to? Then a name caught his eye, a man named Reardon. He remembered him because of a particularly funny off-color remark he had made at a difficult moment, when lesser men would have been losing their temper. The men around him had laughed, the tension had lessened, and the men had managed the task Erik had given them.
He saw the man’s face, and then began remembering the men who had been with that group, Reardon and his five team-mates, and the other group. Within moments, Erik recalled a dozen names.
At the end of an hour, Erik had a list of fifty men he judged fit for the extraordinary duty required in the mountains. Feeling better for having that task out of the way, he visited the enlisted baths, finding several off-duty soldiers cleaning up. He overheard the barracks gossip and, by the time he was refreshed, was certain that the entire garrison was abuzz with some sense of impending conflict.
Erik changed into fresh clothing and as fast as he could, found his way to the Inn of the Broken Shield. The inn was fairly crowded, but that didn’t stop Kitty from nearly jumping over the bar as she flew into his arms. Erik laughed, and as the slender girl kissed him, he said, ‘Slow down, woman. Do you want people to think you’ve no morals?’
Kitty said, ‘Who cares what people think?’
Several of the nearby patrons laughed at the remark. One of the whores employed by Duke James said, ‘I certainly don’t, dearie!’
Erik said, ‘How have you been?’
She pinched his cheek playfully and said, ‘Lonely. How long before you have to go back to the palace?’
Erik smiled. ‘I don’t have to be there until noon tomorrow.’
Kitty almost squealed in delight. ‘I opened today, so I get off in two hours. Have something to eat and don’t drink too much with your low-life barracks mates, because I have plans for you.’
Erik blushed, and several of those within hearing range laughed at Kitty’s remarks.
Erik crossed to the corner of the inn, where Sergeant Alfred sat with other men from Erik’s unit. Erik pulled up a chair, and one of the other serving girls came over with a pitcher of ale and a fresh mug for him. She topped off the other mugs and left the men to themselves.
‘Why so somber?’ asked Erik.
‘Orders,’ said Alfred.
Another soldier, a Rodezian corporal named Miguel, said, ‘We leave at sundown tomorrow.’
Erik took a long pull of his ale. ‘So.’
Alfred said, ‘It’s beginning.’
The other soldiers nodded.
Erik, the only man in the room who had served with Calis on his voyages to Novindus, said, ‘No, it began a long time ago.’ He looked off into the distance, then at his companions, and said, ‘But now it’s here.’
Kitty snuggled into the crook of Erik’s shoulder. ‘I hate that you have to leave tomorrow.’
‘I know,’ said Erik.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘What makes you think anything is wrong?’
They lay in the relative solitude of her room. Erik could afford to take a room had he wished, but having spent his childhood in a similar loft he found the odor of hay and animals, leather and iron familiar and reassuring.
Kitty said, ‘I know you, Erik. You’re worried.’
Erik weighed his words. Finally he said, ‘Do you know a way out of the city?’
‘You mean where the gate is?’ she said in a joking fashion.
‘No, I mean if the city was sealed, do you think you could find a way out?’
Kitty raised herself up and leaned on an elbow, looking down at her lover. ‘Why?’
‘Just answer: could you?’
‘Without running into the Mockers, probably not.’
Erik considered his next words, for what he was going to say bordered on treason, and at the very least was a direct circumvention of orders. ‘I have a favor to ask.’
‘Anything.’
‘When the festival winds down next week, just before sundown …’
‘Yes?’ she prompted.
‘Find your way out of the city; leave with some farmers heading back to the nearby villages.’
‘What?’ she asked, her expression one of open surprise.
‘I can’t tell you exactly why, but I don’t want you in Krondor after Banapis.’
‘You mean you won’t tell me. What is this all about?’
‘Duke James has agents at every gate of the city, without question, and besides looking for enemy agents, my guess is they also have orders to stop you, or anyone else he’s forced to serve, from fleeing. Banapis is the best chance you have of getting out of the city without being stopped.’
‘Why do I need to leave Krondor?’ said Kitty.
‘Because if you stay, I don’t know if you’ll survive. I can’t say more.’
‘You’re frightening me,’ she said. Erik had never heard Kitty admit to being afraid of anything, so the words carried weight.
‘Good. You have to fear what I can’t talk about more than Duke James’s long reach. Get out of the city and make your way to Roo’s estate and hide there. I’ll make arrangements for him to get you out of the West. And say nothing to anyone.’
‘Where are you going to be while I’m hiding in the East?’
‘Fighting a war.’
Erik felt her melt into his arms, and her hot tears fell on his chest. ‘We’re not going to see each other again, are we?’
Holding her close, he stroked her hair and kissed her cheek. ‘I don’t know, but it won’t be for the lack of trying, my love.’
She kissed him back. ‘I want to forget what you said.’
‘You can forget until Banapis,’ said Erik.
‘Until Banapis.’