Erik frowned.
He put the papers on Lord William’s desk and said, ‘That is what I’m to do?’
William and Calis nodded. ‘We’ve had a change of plans since my father appeared,’ said William, looking very tired. ‘He went into council with the Prince, James, and myself, and all I can tell you is he convinced us that Calis is needed elsewhere.’
Erik had been operating on the assumption that he would be up in the mountains to the north and east of the city, awaiting the fall of Krondor to launch raids against the invaders as they moved eastward. Now he was being told the roles were being shuffled, like so many cards in a deck.
William said, ‘I am in charge of the defense of the city. That hasn’t changed. Vykor’s flotilla is hidden down in Shadon Bay and will sally against the raiders as they pass by, to be joined, we hope, by what is left of Nicholas’s fleet after it’s refitted at the Sunsets.
‘Greylock will act as my second with the units up in the mountains.’ He pointed at Erik. ‘That means you will have to fill in for Greylock, where we had planned to use him.’
‘The retreat,’ said Erik flatly.
‘Yes,’ said Calis. ‘By the time we lose this city, we’re going to have a frantic population attempting to flee and a routed army trying to go with them. We can’t allow that.’
‘How are you going to prevent it?’ asked Erik.
William sighed. ‘This is what comes of making assumptions. If we had included you in our command meetings you’d know this already.’ He handed a large sheaf of papers to Erik. ‘Read these; the plan is outlined in detail and I want you to have it down cold by tonight. You and I will have dinner and we can dispose of any questions of yours then.’
Erik turned to Calis. ‘When do you leave?’
‘As soon as my father returns from Stardock,’ answered William for Calis.
Erik assumed it was implicit no one knew when that was. ‘Very well, m’lord.’
Erik turned to leave the room, and as he reached the door, William said, ‘Oh, Erik, there’s one more thing.’
Erik turned and said, ‘What is that, sir?’
‘From this moment on, you’re a Knight-Captain in the Prince’s Army. I don’t have time to waste making you a lieutenant, so you’ll just have to skip a rank.’
Greylock smiled, trying hard not to laugh at Erik’s astonished expression. ‘Me, sir?’
‘What’s the matter, von Darkmoor!’ shouted Calis in a fair imitation of Bobby de Loungville. ‘Are you suddenly hard of hearing?’
Erik blushed. ‘Ah, that means I need a new Sergeant Major, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes. Any recommendations?’
Erik almost said Jadow, because he was the most senior sergeant in the command, but the fact was that Calis had been correct originally when he had given Erik the job. Jadow just didn’t have the command skills for the position; it required far more organizational ability than most of the sergeants possessed. After a while he said, ‘There are two or three men who would serve, but to be honest, the best of the lot is Duga, the mercenary Captain. He’s smart, he’s tough, and he understands exactly what is at stake without our telling him everything. He’s been very useful in persuading those other mercenaries we’ve captured into switching sides.’
‘I don’t like it,’ said William. ‘The man’s a turncoat.’
Erik said, ‘You have to understand how things are across the sea, m’lord. Men there have no strong attachment to a city and there are nothing like the nations here; Duga has been a mercenary all his life, but down there mercenaries live by a strict code of honor. If he swears loyalty – and I can make him understand this isn’t a contract where he can throw down his sword and switch back – he’ll serve.’
William said, ‘Let me think on this. Perhaps we’ll make him a sergeant of auxiliaries, but I need someone else, now.’
‘Then Alfred,’ said Erik. ‘He’s not as sharp when it comes to strategy and tactics as I’d like, but he understands how to get things done in a hurry with a minimum of fuss.’
‘Then he’ll do,’ said William, glancing at Calis.
Calis nodded. ‘I agree. He’s solid, and he’ll do for what we have coming.’
‘Go tell him,’ said William, and Erik left.
After he was gone, Greylock said, ‘You neglected to mention he carries the court rank of Baron.’
Calis smiled. ‘Let’s not get him too upset right now.’
William let out a long, tired sigh. ‘I’m going to have to deal with his upset when he reads the plans and sees what his role is to be.’
Calis nodded. ‘There’s no doubt about that.’ Then he laughed, a rueful, bitter laugh.
‘Darkmoor!’ Erik said. ‘You can’t be serious!’ At William’s expression, he quickly added, ‘M’lord.’
William motioned for Erik to follow him down the hall. ‘We’re dining with my family tonight. We’ll talk over a quiet meal.’
As soon as they reached the dining hall, Erik felt his anger drain away. The ‘quiet’ meal the Knight-Marshal spoke of included Duke James, Lady Gamina, their son, Lord Arutha, and his two sons, Dashel and James.
Erik almost blushed at being included with the Duke’s family, and quickly took a seat to William’s right. As servants began to bring in the food, the magician Pug entered through a door across from Erik’s seat. Erik saw only that his hair and beard had been cut close, until he came to sit between William and Lady Gamina, at which point Erik saw what appeared to be faint burn marks on his neck and face.
Jimmy and Dash stood, as did Arutha, James, and Gamina. William hesitated a moment, and rose, while Erik quickly did as well. ‘Great Grandfather,’ said Dash in greeting.
Pug kissed Gamina’s cheek and shook hands with James and then with William. ‘I’m pleased we’re all together,’ said Pug.
Erik saw, and with sudden clarity realized, why there was a somber mood in the room; this might very well be the last time Pug’s family would gather. And many of those here might not be alive soon.
Erik whispered to William, ‘If you’d prefer, sir, we can talk about my mission tomorrow.’
William shook his head. ‘At first light tomorrow, I want you up in the hills inspecting the first line of fortifications outside the city to the east. Then you need be back here by the day after tomorrow.’ He glanced at his family. ‘We don’t have time, I’m sorry to say.’
Pug said, ‘Before anything else, I have one thing I must say to all of you.’
William turned to look at his father, as did James and Gamina. Pug said, ‘I have been absent from your lives far too long, and for this I must beg your forgiveness.’ He then reached out and placed his hands over William’s and Gamina’s. ‘And I also need to tell you how very proud of you I am.’
William looked as if he didn’t know what to say. Gamina smiled and moisture gathered in her eyes as she leaned over and kissed her father’s cheek. Erik had seen enough strange things in the last four years to find nothing odd in the image of a woman who looked old enough to be Pug’s mother being his daughter.
Gamina said something to her father by mind speech, and he smiled. ‘I wish she were here, too.’
William said, ‘Thank you, Father.’
Pug removed his hand from Gamina’s and put it over the one that still gripped William’s. ‘No, I must thank you, for being who you are, and for holding to your own dream, no matter what I thought you should be doing. I learn slowly at times, I fear.’
William smiled and Erik could see the resemblance between father and son. There was a sheen of moisture in the Knight-Marshal’s eyes, and Erik found his own throat tightening with emotion. This was what this war was about, protecting those we love, he thought. Somewhere in the night his mother and the only man he thought of as a father were sitting over a table in the back of an inn, and somewhere out there the woman he loved was hiding, on her way to join his mother and Nathan.
Erik suddenly felt a presence in his mind, a gentle touch, nothing more, but he knew it was the Lady Gamina. He glanced over and saw she was smiling at him. Then words came into his mind. Your young woman is safe, I am sure.
Without knowing quite how to do it, he tried to say, My wife.
Gamina laughed and William said, ‘What?’
The Duchess said, ‘Our young friend has gotten married since the last time we met.’
Pug, William, Arutha, and Gamina all offered congratulations, while the two younger men glanced at their grandfather. Pug said, ‘James?’
The former boy thief shrugged and grinned, and there was a hint of boyish playfulness in his manner. ‘I knew. So did Dash and Jimmy.’
Arutha said, ‘You knew?’
Duke James laughed. ‘I had to get Erik’s mind back on the days to come, so I let him think he was being terribly clever sneaking his young wife out of the city.’ He pointed an accusatory finger at Erik. ‘Don’t ever disobey me again, Captain.’
At the admonition and use of his new rank, Erik couldn’t help but blush.
‘Captain?’ asked Dash, nodding in approval.
Gamina and Arutha both said, ‘Congratulations.’
William said, ‘We’ll see how much congratulations are in order after this coming battle.’
At mention of the conflict, the mood in the room fell somber again. After a moment of quiet, Pug slapped his hand on the table. ‘Enough! Let us steal a moment of happiness while we can.’ He glanced at his grandson, Arutha. ‘My only regret is that your wife is not with us.’
Arutha smiled, and Erik again saw the echo of both his father and mother in his features. ‘She visits her parents in Roldem.’
Jimmy said, ‘Perhaps we should all go to Roldem for a visit.’
Pug laughed, and the others joined in. The meal passed quickly and pleasantly, as those dining together found reassurance in one another’s company.
Erik was pleased to have the opportunity of seeing this family together, for in this room sat three of the most important men in the Kingdom, Lord James and his father-in-law and brother-in-law. The food was beyond a doubt the best Erik had ever had, and the wine was beyond comparison, wine grown in his own Darkmoor region, but too costly for a commoner like himself to have ever tasted. He and William quietly discussed the plan for the defense of those leaving the city, in the corner, while the other family members chatted about matters of small importance and ignored the darkness coming their way.
After supper they ate sweets and drank Keshian coffee with small glasses of an exquisite fortified wine from Rodez. As Erik felt a warm glow fill him from head to toe, Calis hurried into the dining room. ‘Sorry to intrude,’ he said without greeting, ‘but a message has arrived.’
James stood and held out his hand, and Calis gave him the message. William said, ‘From Land’s End?’
‘Yes, by fast riders. The invaders’ fleet was sighted just after dawn yesterday.’
William said, ‘With a favorable wind, that will put them off the point the day after tomorrow.’
James nodded. ‘It begins.’
Erik squinted, trying to will sight in the gloom. He stood on the outer breakwater, on the forward firing platform. As he had threatened, Greylock had seen that Captain de Beswick was given the dubious honor of being the first officer to face the enemy at Krondor’s wall.
If the formerly hostile captain felt any resentment over Erik’s promotion, placing him above the career officer from Bas-Tyra, he hid it well, and was nothing if not polite when Erik gave him orders.
‘Where are they?’ asked Erik.
De Beswick said nothing, realizing the question was rhetorical. As the sun lit the sky to the east, the western horizon continued to be cloaked in fog and darkness, accommodating the enemy’s advance. De Beswick said, ‘I know little about this sea, Captain, but if the weather is at all like Bas-Tyra, the haze should burn off by midmorning.’
Erik said, ‘By midmorning you may have warships sitting close enough to throw rocks at.’ He looked over the defenses for what seemed to be the hundredth time since he had returned from his inspection of the nearby defenses to the east of the city.
Long minutes dragged on, and Erik kept returning to examining those forward elements. The outer breakwater had been restructured, so that to reach Krondor harbor a ship now had to sail as far south as possible around a large jetty, atop which sat the platform Erik stood on; that was manned by a company of catapult crews, bowmen, and a shoreside detachment, all armed to the teeth. Any ship approaching this end of the jetty would be fired upon. The seawall ran almost due north, separated from the inner wall by a distance of less than a quarter-mile. At the north end of the wall, another company waited, and any ship attempting to come up the channel between the inner and outer walls would be subject to a withering cross fire. Across the water on the inner wall, another company of soldiers manned their war engines. Erik considered that once the enemy saw the new defenses, their only choice would be to attempt to seize all three platforms. If they were foolish enough to send ships into the channel before they cleared away the defenders, they ran the risk of a ship’s being sunk to block the channel. What Erik knew and they didn’t was that a clever set of traps awaited the ships that came through that channel, even if the defenders were swept away from the walls.
Erik looked at the small boat tied off below, less than twenty feet down a rope ladder dropped over the edge of the platform. ‘I’m going to leave you the boat,’ said Erik. He knew that the men on this and the next three stations were likely to be obliterated before they could withdraw.
De Beswick looked at Erik, and raised an eyebrow in question.
‘If you need to send a message in a hurry, it’s faster than running along the top of the wall.’
‘Of course,’ said de Beswick. Then, after a moment, he said, ‘Rather decent of you, actually.’
Erik put his hand on the man’s shoulder and said, ‘Good-bye and good luck.’
He ran along the top of the jetty, along the small path cut atop the mountains of rocks placed there by convict labor so that the ballista and catapult platforms could be installed. For more than three-quarters of a mile he trotted to the second platform, where he accepted the salutes of the officers waiting there. He didn’t stop to speak, but continued along, turning eastward at the top of the inverted U the two walls formed. For a quarter-mile the Knight-Captain of the Prince’s Army hurried along, then turned south. The day was getting warmer, and Erik was perspiring when he reached the third platform. He quickly inspected stores and equipment, then turned back north. The last platform was the most isolated, for as at the first one on the outer wall, the men would have to flee along the exposed path and across the rock jetty to reach the old north jetty, which had traditionally shielded Krondor’s harbor from the Bitter Sea’s south-running tides.
By the time Erik got to the point where the old jetty reached the northmost dock, he found a company of Palace Guards waiting for him. Erik mounted a horse being held for him, and led the patrol through the mass of soldiers on the docks. Every possible barricade had been erected, and the first three blocks into the city were a killing zone. Every upper window of every building housed an archer, and Erik marveled at the defenses planned by William and James. The lower windows were barricaded and the doors locked, and a clever set of easily moved ramps had been constructed so the defenders in the upper stories could withdraw by crawling from building to building, while others covered their retreat. What had surprised Erik wasn’t the number of citizens who had fled the city once the construction of the defenses began but, rather, those who had to be evicted, despite the evidence before their eyes of the coming battle. Many had been carried by main force out of their homes, or marched out at spearpoint.
At the third corner from the docks, Erik and his men reached the first barricade. They were waved through and headed toward the palace.
As they moved away from the dock area, Erik saw the fearful faces of the populace, some peeking out of doorways, and others hurrying off on one errand or another before war came to Krondor. Many carried large bags of their belongings on their backs and were heading toward the east, where they would attempt to leave the city before fighting began.
Erik knew that James would allow refugees to trickle out of the city, in a controlled fashion, until the enemy were ashore and the eastern gates needed to be closed. From reports he had read the night before, Erik knew the foulburg – the portion of the city built beyond the ancient walls – was all but deserted. Local patrols of constables had arrested and hanged a dozen looters over the last week.
A trader with a pushcart hurried past, shouting he had food to sell, and Erik was certain the man would dispose of the last of his wares before noon. As Erik neared the palace, the level of traffic heading to the gate increased, and he ordered his escort to head around back toward the docks and then to the palace, to avoid the press of citizens.
They moved back down toward the docks, and as they rode along, one of the men in a second-story window above shouted, ‘Gods! Look at them!’
Erik lacked the man’s advantage of height, but he knew that the man could see the hostile fleet. ‘What do you see?’
The soldier looked down to see who asked, and, seeing the officer’s mark on Erik’s tunic, said, ‘Ships, sir! Must be a thousand of them.’
Erik didn’t wait. He kicked his horse into a canter and moved as fast as safety permitted toward the palace. He knew there weren’t a thousand enemy ships outside Krondor’s harbor, but he knew there were at least four hundred, by cautious estimation of how much of the fleet had survived.
Nicholas had hit them on one side of the Straits of Darkness while a flotilla from Elarial hit them from the south. At the same time squadrons of warships from Durbin and Queg raided the forward elements. James had reviewed the reports from lookouts who attempted to judge the size of the remaining fleet as it sailed past, then sent word by a series of relay riders, who would change horses every few miles. The raids had reduced the invaders’ fleet by a fourth. Others had celebrated the damage done to the enemy until James had pointed out that left a mere four hundred and fifty warships heading toward Krondor.
So instead of three hundred thousand soldiers coming ashore within the next few days, only two hundred and twenty-five thousand would invade the Kingdom. Erik fought off the desire to surrender to despair.
He entered the palace via the sea gate, and gave his horse’s reins to a lackey. ‘I need a fresh horse,’ he said, and ran off to his last meeting with Lord James and Knight-Marshal William.
He reached the conference room where William and James were overseeing the final briefing for the area commanders before they were dispatched to their respective garrisons. The palace gate out of the city was being held clear so that dispatch riders and those officers leaving could get out of the city before the riots of panic-stricken citizens began.
James stood by while William issued orders. ‘We should have ships beaching to the north of the city within the hour.’ He pointed to two of the commanders who would see to coastal defenses just outside the city. ‘It’s time for you to be there, gentlemen. Good luck.’
Erik saw the Earl of Tilden and a squire whose name was not known to him salute and depart. Erik had studied the deployment of troops for days since William had given him a copy of the battle plan, and he knew that nobles and their detachments would be the first to feel the brunt of the attack. From Sarth down to Krondor, from Krondor to the small villages north of Shadon Bay, every armed soldier that Patrick could squeeze out of the Armies of the West stood ready to repulse the invaders. But sixty thousand troops, most of them untested levies, were going to be overrun by more than three times their numbers in battle-hardened warriors. The only advantage the Kingdom possessed would be in discipline and training, and that wouldn’t come into play until after Krondor fell.
For it was clear to Erik that his first suspicion had been correct: Krondor would fall. He glanced around the room and saw that Greylock was already gone, as was Calis. Greylock was riding for the first detachment directly under his command, a mixed company of Calis’s Crimson Eagles, Hadati warriors, and the Royal Krondorian Pathfinders. Throughout the mountains to the north and east every experienced mountain fighter they could recruit from as far east as the hills above Ran and Pointers Head was waiting.
The general plan was to bleed the enemy, killing as many of the invaders as possible going through Krondor, then to shred them as they made their way through the hills and mountains, where each of Greylock’s mountain fighters would be the worth of five of the invaders. Erik had fought with the Emerald Queen’s army; most of them were satisfactory horse infantry, and a few decent cavalry, but none were mountain men. The only thing Erik worried about was the Saaur riders, for while they might not be mountain fighters, they were warriors unmatched by any force the human defenders of the Kingdom could put in the field. Erik knew they would have lost a number of their horses on the sea journey. The fodder would spoil from the constant moisture, and horses would colic, and some would be useless after six months in the hold of a ship, but enough would be quickly fit to make the Saaur a dangerous foe. And who knew what sort of magic the enemy might employ to keep the horses fresh?
William turned to Erik. ‘Ready?’
‘Ready or not, our forces are in place. As I left the docks, the enemy was sighted.’
William dropped what he was doing and hurried to the large window that overlooked the harbor. ‘Gods!’ he said softly.
Erik and the others followed, and each in his own way was just as stunned. No matter what reports had said, none of them was prepared for the sight that greeted them. From the outer seawall to the distant horizon, clearing by the minute as the morning haze burned off the Bitter Sea, white sails could be seen. Erik craned his neck and looked as far north as he could manage, and could make out sails in the distance.
‘They must have fanned out since yesterday,’ said William, turning away and hurrying back to the table. ‘They’re going to wash over us like a tide.’ To the nobles in the room he said, ‘Gentlemen, you know what to do. May the gods protect us all.’
Erik glanced around the room. ‘The Prince?’
‘He left the palace last night,’ said William. ‘With my sister and her son and grandsons.’ William glanced at Erik and smiled. ‘Can’t lose the Prince, now, can we?’
Erik shook his head. ‘Lord James?’
‘In his office. Seems he felt obliged to stay.’
After the nobles had left in an orderly fashion, Erik said, ‘There’s nothing left for me to do here, sir.’
‘One thing,’ said William, reaching into his tunic. He pulled out a small parchment, rolled and tied with a ribbon, and sealed, the crest of his office pressed into the red wax. ‘When this is over, give this to my father if you can.’
Erik frowned. ‘Sir?’
William smiled. ‘I would never order a man to the wall if I wasn’t willing to go there myself, Erik.’
For a moment, Erik was unable to move. He realized with dread certainty that the Knight-Marshal of the Kingdom did not intend to leave the city. He swallowed hard. While he and William were not close, he had come to admire the man for his honesty, bravery, and clear, cool logic in planning a battle. And for one night, when he had shared supper with the man and his family, he had glimpsed a personal history. He could not help but feel loss.
‘Sir,’ he said at last, ‘good-bye.’
William held out his hand. ‘Good-bye, Captain. Much of what will come rests in your hands. Know one thing: you are capable of far more than you know.’
Erik put the scroll in his tunic and saluted as smartly as he could manage. Then he hurried from the room. He returned quickly to the courtyard where a fresh horse waited, and mounted. Unlike the others, who left through the one gate kept free of citizens, he turned back to the gate that led to the docks. He signaled for a patrol of lancers to accompany him, and the gates were opened as he reached them. Outside the gate a squad of foot soldiers held a small crowd at bay. Panic was beginning to manifest itself in the city as word spread of the approaching fleet. Some of the poor souls living along the waterfront, near the palace, were seeking to gain entrance into the city. Erik paused to shout, ‘There is no refuge for you here! The eastern gate is still open. Either leave the city that way or return to your homes! Now, clear the way.’
He moved his horse forward, and citizens dove out of the way as the squad of riders followed behind him.
Erik moved through the city as quickly as possible. He knew his assignment in theory, but the difference between theory and practice was quickly becoming apparent. His job was to oversee the orderly withdrawal of the city’s defenders to Greylock’s first defensive position to the east, about a half-day’s march beyond the first farms outside the city. But everywhere he looked, Erik saw chaos, and he doubted anything remotely like order could be pulled from the mess. Still, he was sworn to succeed or to die trying. He put heels to horse and moved into the crowd.
Jason grabbed up every book he could and put them into canvas sacks, which he handed to boys who were waiting to take them to nearby wagons. Roo had overestimated the time left before the invaders reached Krondor, and now he watched as his employees evacuated his businesses. Everything he could manage to hoard – gold, letters of credit, and other items of wealth – was safely hidden at his estates. He already had a pair of wagons there waiting to take his wife and children, as well as the Jacobys, to the east. He hoped that Sylvia had listened seriously to his warnings and would join them as they moved to escape the coming onslaught.
Jason said, ‘That’s the last of it, sir!’
Roo, sitting atop a fresh horse, said, ‘Get the wagons out of here!’
Fifteen wagons, carrying everything he could move, started out of the large yard into the street. Shouting people hurried past, some carrying their belongings on their back, while others just ran. Rumors were flying – that the Prince was dead, that the palace had been taken, that all the gates were closed and they were trapped – and Roo knew that eventually he would have to leave behind his wagons and remaining goods if he didn’t get out of the city by sundown.
He had hired the best private guards he could find, and there weren’t many left in Krondor. Just about any man capable of carrying a sword or pulling a bow was now in the King’s service. The squad of ten men he had hired were old men and boys, but the old men were veterans and the boys were strong and enthusiastic.
Whips cracked as the horses moved the heavily burdened wagons, which groaned under the weight. Roo was attempting to salvage everything of worth, inventory, tools, and furnishings. He had faith that eventually the Emerald Queen’s army would be defeated, and he was attempting to ensure that he had as much of a start as possible in rebuilding his wealth after the war was over.
Roo said to Jason, who was now sitting on the first wagon, ‘Where is Luis?’
Jason said, ‘He went looking for Duncan when he didn’t show up. I think he may have gone out of the city.’
‘Why?’
‘Because Duncan said something about going to your estates on an errand for you.’
Roo frowned. He had not seen Duncan for two days, which had put his cousin in the worst possible grace with Roo so far. He had excused a lot of Duncan’s lapses, but with the invaders so close Roo had needed every pair of hands possible, and Duncan’s preoccupation with his own pleasure was inexcusable this time. ‘I’m going on ahead to my estates. Meet me there.’
Roo was going to let his wagoners rest the night at his estates, then send them on to Ravensburg. There Roo had planned to gather his employees and servants together and if the enemy appeared, move on to Salador. He knew what few others knew: that if the invaders made it past Darkmoor, they’d turn toward Sethanon, for the fabled prize Calis had long ago told his men about, whatever it might be. Roo had no doubt that the Kingdom would be equal to the task; he had served with the invaders for a while when Calis had infiltrated their army, and while they had numbers, they lacked the Kingdom’s training.
Then he remembered the Saaur.
Roo said, ‘I’m going to change orders. Continue past my estates and keep going until sundown.’
‘Why?’ asked Jason.
‘Something I just thought of. Head to our inn in Chesterton and wait. If you don’t hear anything from me within a day that says otherwise, start the men toward Darkmoor. Refit there, change horses, whatever you need to do, then continue on to Malac’s Cross. Wait for me to send you word there.’
Jason seemed disturbed by the change of plans, but said nothing. He nodded and told the driver to keep moving.
Roo rode ahead and quickly became enmeshed in the crowd streaming for the eastern gates. He was on the verge of turning back, fearing a riot, when he saw Kingdom troops riding toward him from a street to his left. He saw a familiar figure at their head and shouted, ‘Erik!’
Erik reined in. ‘I thought you went out of the city yesterday.’
‘Too many last-minute things to see to,’ answered Roo. ‘I’ve got wagons coming this way, then we’re for the East.’
Erik nodded. ‘Wise choice. You can ride with us to the gate, but the wagons are on their own, I’m afraid.’
Roo pulled in next to his boyhood friend and asked, ‘When are they closing the gates?’
‘Sundown, or when the first enemy is seen to the east, whichever comes first.’
‘They’re that close?’ said Roo in surprise.
‘They hit the outer seawall an hour ago,’ answered Erik as he slowed his horse because of the press of people. The way was now lined with Kingdom soldiers, keeping the crowd moving in an orderly fashion. Those who heard horses coming from behind tried to move aside, but there was scant room and Erik and his squad were forced to slow to a walk.
Roo asked, ‘Where are you bound for?’
‘Just outside,’ said Erik. ‘When the gates close, I’m going to ride rear guard behind those who are through.’
‘Nasty job,’ said Roo.
‘Not as nasty as staying behind,’ said Erik.
Roo said, ‘I hadn’t thought of it that way.’ He paused, then said, ‘What of Jadow and the others?’
Erik knew he meant the handful of men whom Erik and Roo had served with, across the sea with Captain Calis. ‘They’re already gone, up in the mountains.’
Roo said, ‘What’s going on?’
‘I can’t tell you,’ said Erik.
Roo thought on it a moment; he had dispatched building materials for the Prince to odd destinations throughout the mountains, as well as provisions for men. He considered the fact that the best soldiers the Prince had were up in the hills, then asked, ‘Nightmare Ridge?’
Erik nodded. ‘Don’t say anything, but in about a month you want your family east of Darkmoor.’
‘Understood,’ said Roo as they came in sight of the gate. A wagon had lost a wheel just outside the gate and the driver was arguing with the guards there, who wanted to cut loose the horse and drag the wagon out of the way, while the driver was insisting on waiting to fix the broken wheel.
Erik rode up and said, ‘Sergeant!’
The man turned and, seeing an officer in the black of the Prince’s Special Command, said, ‘Sir!’
‘Quit arguing and get that wagon out of the way.’ People on foot could get out of the gate around it, but a string of wagons and carts was building up quickly behind the broken-down wagon.
The driver was frantic. ‘Sir! Everything I own is in there!’
‘Sorry,’ said Erik, and he waved for a squad of men to move the man away, then drag the wagon off to the side of the road. ‘If you can fix it over there, good luck to you. But you’re keeping people here who don’t wish to linger.’
Erik rode past and said to Roo, ‘Get away, Roo, now.’
Roo said, ‘Why?’
Erik pointed to the north and Roo could see dust. The hair on his neck rose up. ‘Only one thing can raise that much dust in a hurry.’
Erik said, ‘Either the biggest cavalry detachment this side of Kesh, or it’s the Saaur!’
Roo turned his horse down the eastern road and with a shout had the horse cantering away from the city.
Erik turned to one of the soldiers at his side and said, ‘Pass word back into the city we’ve got visitors coming from the north.’ He glanced at the dust rising in the hills and said, ‘They’ll be here in an hour.’
Erik turned to the command at the gate and said, ‘Be ready to close up with no more than one minute’s notice.’
‘Yes, sir!’ came the response.
Erik rode a quarter-mile to the north, where a company of heavy lancers waited, with two squads of bowmen to provide support. ‘Lieutenant!’
‘Sir,’ said the leader of the Royal Krondorian Lancers.
‘In the next hour some damned big lizards on giant horses are going to be coming down that north road. Can your men handle them?’
The lieutenant smiled. ‘Big makes ’em easier to hit, don’t it, sir?’
Erik smiled. The young officer was probably a few years older than he, but Erik felt like an old man looking at his enthusiasm. ‘That’s the spirit,’ he said.
He then turned his small patrol around and rode to the south, where another detachment of lancers waited. He dispatched those to support the group on the north. Whatever was coming from the south would be far less a threat than a full-blown Saaur attack, and those inside the city could deal with any human threat.
Then the sky seemed to open and a howl went up that had Erik and every man nearby covering his ears in pain. It went on while riders attempted to calm frantic horses that screamed and bolted at the sound. Several of the lancers were thrown from their saddles.
After a minute the sound ceased, and Erik could hear a lingering ring in his ears. ‘What was that?’ he heard a soldier nearby ask.
‘I have no idea,’ said Erik.
William and James stood on the palace balcony, overlooking the harbor as the last echoes of the strange howling sound ended. A huge column of dust and steam rose at the mouth of the harbor. A blinding flash had accompanied the noise, and even though they had been inside, both men found themselves blinking away tears. Men below on the walls were wandering blind, crying out for someone to lead them away.
Soldiers raced through the palace shouting orders, for a tremendous sound had accompanied the explosion, and even the most veteran of them were stunned by it. ‘What was that?’ asked William.
‘Look!’ said James, pointing to the harbor mouth.
The churning waters of the outer harbor seemed to be calming, and a great wave of foam and debris rolled in toward the docks. Upon its crest rode great ships, and they all carried invaders.
‘They’re in the harbor!’ shouted William. ‘Damn! I thought we could hold them outside for a week.’
James said, ‘Whatever they used, the two seawalls are gone.’
William swore. ‘I had a thousand men on those walls.’
‘So much for those clever traps you rigged in the channel.’
William nodded. ‘They must have been swept away when the enemy destroyed the defenses. What was it?’
‘I don’t know,’ said James. ‘I saw Guy du Bas-Tyra fire Armengar during the Great Uprising, and when those twenty-five thousand barrels of naphtha went up, the explosion could be seen for miles. This was something different.’
‘A magic of some sort?’ asked William.
Dryly, James said, ‘Given your upbringing, you’d be in a better position to answer than I.’
Turning away, William said, ‘We didn’t encourage students to blow things up at Stardock. It disturbs the tranquillity.’ He hurried to where runners waited to carry orders, and to the first he said, ‘General order five. They are in the city.’
William returned to where James stood, watching alien invaders sail into his city. ‘I will not let this happen,’ said the Duke.
William put his hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder and said, ‘It’s happened.’
‘Remind me, what’s general order five?’
William said, ‘We’re locking the eastern gate, and firing on anything coming from the west. House-to-house for the first three blocks away from the docks.’
‘What about those nasty things you set up down at the docks?’
‘Those are still in place. If the Pantathian magic users don’t blow up the palace the way they did the seawalls, they’ll find a surprise or two when they land on the docks.’
James looked at William. ‘Have you gotten everyone out?’
William knew who the ‘everyone’ was that James spoke of, his sister, her son, and her grandchildren. James had counted on William to see them to safety. ‘They’re out of the city. They left in a special coach last night.’
James said, ‘Then this is good-bye.’
William looked at his brother-in-law and weighed the man in his memory. They had a long history together, back to the days when William was a young lieutenant in the Prince’s Household Guards and James had run roughshod over the wild twins, Borric and Erland, now King and Prince respectively.
James asked, ‘It’s been what, thirty years?’
‘Closer to forty.’ They embraced.
When they separated, James said, ‘I only regret you never found anyone, William.’
William said, ‘I did, once.’
James said nothing, for he remembered the Keshian magician William had loved as a young man, and her untimely death.
William said, ‘I do envy you Arutha and the boys.’
James said, ‘I must go.’
William said, ‘If we do somehow manage to get out of this, I promise I’ll give some thought to finding a good woman and settling down.’
James laughed. He again embraced his brother-in-law and said, ‘See you in Darkmoor or see you in hell.’
‘One is as good as the other,’ said William, giving James a gentle push toward the door.
The Duke turned and hurried as fast as his old legs would permit. Outside, a squad of special soldiers, dressed in black tunics, leggings, and black-painted iron coifs, waited. They wore no markings, and they said nothing as they followed James down to his office. There he stripped off the marks of his rank, the golden chain holding the Duke of Krondor’s seal, used to identify official decrees of the Principality. He removed his ducal ring, and set it next to the seal. After a moment, he turned to one of the soldiers and said, ‘In the Prince’s audience hall, there’s a sword hanging over the fireplace. Fetch it for me.’
The soldier ran off while James removed his clothing and donned garb like that worn by the soldiers. He was dressed when the soldier returned carrying the sword. An old rapier, it bore an odd device, a tiny war hammer, that had been fused into the sword’s forte.
He added this to the bundle and wrapped up the sword, ring, chain and seal, and a letter he had written the night before, and handed it to a soldier wearing the garb of the Prince’s Household Guards. ‘Take this to Lord Vencar, in Darkmoor.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ said the guard and hurried away.
To the soldiers who were remaining, the silent men in black, James said, ‘It’s time.’
They left his office and hurried down into the bowels of the palace, down winding stairs that led to the dungeon. Past the cells, they moved to a seemingly blank wall. James said, ‘Put your hands here, and here’ – he pointed – ‘and push up.’ Two soldiers did as bidden, and the wall slid almost effortlessly upward into the ceiling, revealing a door hidden behind the false wall. James pointed. Two soldiers moved to open the door; it protested at being disturbed after years of peace. But move it did, to reveal an opening, and a flight of stairs leading down. Lanterns were lit, two soldiers entered, and James followed. As the last of the eight guards passed through the door, it was drawn shut behind them, causing the false wall to return to its position.
Down the stairs the men hurried, until at last they came to another closed wooden door. One of the men listened and said, ‘It’s silent, my lord.’
James nodded. ‘Open it.’
The man did so, and the door opened to the sound of lapping water. At a landing beneath the old citadel, the central part of the palace of Krondor, an underground waterway wended from the city into the bay. The stench of the place told every man what they already knew: this was a section of the great sewers of the city, which emptied into the bay a mile or more away.
A new longboat waited, tethered to an iron ring in the stone dock, and the eight soldiers entered, leaving a place in the middle for the Duke. James stepped into the boat. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.
The boat was pushed off from the dock, and the men began to row, but rather than head for the bay, they swung the boat around and headed against the flow of the water, into the sewers of the city.
As they came to the entrance of a large culvert, one twice the height of a man, James whispered to himself, ‘Jimmy the Hand goes home.’