ARUTHA POINTED.
Captain Subai motioned and the man behind him signaled. Another man pointed and nodded. He then started searching in the indicated area. The progress over the mountains had been slow, as the men on foot could cover only between ten and fifteen miles a day. But they were now in sight of the base of the mountain atop which perched the former Abbey of Sarth.
Three scouts were moving along the difficult trail, moving up tiny gullies worn by rainwater, small game tracks, anything that might lead to the entrance. They were looking for a large extrusion of rock that overlapped the face of the mountain, yet behind which was a long narrow passage, leading to the entrance to the tunnel under the abbey. Arutha remembered his father telling him that unless you were looking right at the entrance, end-on to the extrusion, you would only see what looked like mountainside.
They had been searching for days and had twice almost come into contact with Nordan’s patrols. Only the fact that Arutha and Dominic were accompanied by the best woodsmen and trail scouts in the Kingdom kept them undetected. There were only six of them in this party. The one hundred and twenty Pathfinders and Crimson Eagles who were given the responsibility for taking the abbey waited miles away, in a tiny valley, just beyond the range of invader patrols.
Arutha took a drink of water from the skin he carried. The summer heat was oppressive, yet they could not tarry. His father had mentioned several other landmarks, but nothing in the area remotely looked like those features. The large oak may have burned in a fire, or been harvested for lumber. The three rocks piled one atop the other may have fallen, due to rain or an earthquake. After all, it had been over fifty years ago. Then a whistle alerted Arutha that someone had found something. He hurried to where Subai stood and saw a man below the Captain. He had jumped down into a depression where all but his head was hidden by brush; he would be invisible from the trail. Arutha glanced around and his eyes caught sight of a large oak tree, masked by other, younger trees, but directly opposite his position. He turned and saw a large boulder, the size of a wagon, and at the base were two others – instantly he knew. “We’ve found it!” he said quietly to Subai.
Arutha motioned to where Dominic stood and jumped down to stand behind the soldier. “There’s something on the other side of this brush, Your Grace,” said the soldier.
Without saying anything, Arutha took out his sword and started hacking away the brush. The soldier hesitated a moment, then pulled out his own. By the time Dominic arrived, they had cleared away a significant portion of the undergrowth. Behind the cleared brush was a passage. Arutha knew it was the place his father had described, because from end-on, it did indeed look like a hallway, between the face of the cliff and a wall of rock. To Captain Subai, he said, “Wait here until Dominic and I find the entrance.”
The cleric and the Duke entered the narrow passage, which ran a full hundred yards along the face of the mountain. At the end, to their left, a cave large enough for one man to enter could be seen. Arutha said, “If this was discovered, it is as easy to defend as the access above.”
Dominic looked into the darkness. “It is natural, but it has been ‘improved’ by the Brothers of Ishap. Notice, it’s wide enough that a monk carrying books or pulling a hand cart can negotiate the turn, but there’s not enough room to turn a ram to break down the door.”
“What door?”
Dominic closed his eyes, chanted almost silently, then held up his hand. A nimbus of pale yellow light grew from his hand, casting enough illumination that Arutha could see a large oak door ten feet inside the entrance of the cave. It was without latch or lock. Across it three large iron bands showed it was heavily reinforced. Arutha said, “You’re right. You’d need a heavy ram to knock that down, and there’s no room here to swing it.”
Dominic said, “The latch—”
Arutha said, “Indulge me a moment.”
He inspected the area, running his hand above a ledge, and then below another, and over the surface of the door. Finally he said, “My father told me stories of his days as a thief. Often I imagined myself in his shoes, doing just this sort of thing, attempting to enter somewhere I was not welcome. I wondered if I would be equal to the task.” He knelt and inspected the ground before the door. Off to one side, a small rock lay nestled against the overhanging stone wall. Arutha reached for the rock.
“I wouldn’t do that,” said Dominic.
Arutha’s hand hesitated. He then said, “I must concede I lack my father’s gifts.” Smiling, he stood and said, “My grandfather tells me I have more of my mother in me than my father. Perhaps he’s correct.”
“That’s a trap, almost concealed. Over there is the true release.” He moved to a small recess and put his hand inside. Feeling around he grasped a small latch, then moved it. “Now pull that rock.”
Arutha did as he was bid and discovered the rock was attached to a steel cable, by a large bolt at the back. The rock traveled only a few inches, but as soon as he pulled it a deep rumble could be heard from the other side of the door. The door moved, ponderously, but it moved. Slowly it retracted to the left, leaving a narrow dark passage leading upward into the mountain.
Arutha turned and said to Captain Subai, “It’s open. Send a messenger and bring up the men!”
He followed Dominic into the passage. The cleric pointed to a lever. “Don’t touch that. It will close the door behind us.” He continued walking up the passage. After nearly a hundred yards, the passage widened into a large gallery, where footprints and signs of recent passage could clearly be seen. Arutha inspected them and said, “These aren’t boot marks. These look like sandals.”
Dominic said, “We kept books, scrolls, and other tomes stored throughout the mountain, even this close to the escape route.” He pointed upward. “But nothing was taken out that way. My brothers quit the abbey in good order, so whatever was kept here was hauled up the mountain, put aboard wagons, and taken to our new abbey, That Which Was Sarth.”
“Where is the new abbey?” asked Arutha.
Dominic smiled. “For reasons that you may understand more than most, my order has decided that the information contained within that particular abbey is too dangerous in the wrong hands. Therefore, only those within our order know the exact location of That Which Was Sarth. All I may tell you is that while it is in Yabon, it is safe from Fadawah.”
Arutha said, “As an officer of the Royal Court, I am not pleased to hear of this. As the grandson of Pug, I understand.”
Boots upon the stone heralded the approach of the first band of Subai’s raiders. The man in the van carried a torch and behind him came others holding bundles of supplies.
The timetable was critical. Greylock would begin his approach to Krondor in a week’s time, but just before the city gates, he would wheel to the north and launch a flying attack up the road to Sarth, striking the first two defensive positions without stopping. They were relatively light positions, from Duko’s information, and would provide scant resistance. It was at the southern border of Sarth they would meet the first major resistance.
From there the fight into the town would be difficult, but if Nordan’s forces up in the abbey were to sally forth, Greylock’s army would suddenly be caught between a stout defensive position and an army charging down a mountainside. If Greylock turned up the mountain road to attempt to seize the abbey, he would be fighting up a road that at several places narrowed so that only a single wagon or two men on horse could pass, with the town garrison at his back.
The Kingdom’s only hope was for Subai’s force inside the mountain to seize the abbey, or at least tie up the forces within long enough for Owen to take the town. Once the town was in Kingdom hands, the abbey could be isolated and its garrison starved out, or it would have already fallen to Arutha’s forces.
Arutha considered this as the men started to filter into the chamber. It was possible they would be facing odds as high as four to one. No one knew how many men were billeted within. Nordan had not seen fit to share that information with Duko. Their only advantage was surprise.
The night before Greylock’s assault from the south, the Kingdom forces below the abbey would launch their attack. Arutha knew he had the Kingdom’s best men for the job, handpicked by Subai. The Pathfinders were trained for resourcefulness. To a man they were tough, resilient, and efficient. The Crimson Eagles were veterans of a series of brutal campaigns, men who would do exactly as needed and without hesitation.
At an hour past dawn in three days’ time, they must either be in control of the abbey, or creating enough trouble the garrison would be unable to respond to any call for help from the town below. Arutha found a spot near the next tunnel leading up and sat down, conserving his energy until it was time to move. The balance of Subai’s forces would be hours in reaching the cave, so there was nothing to do but rest, and wait.
Erik grunted and made some notes. John Vinci said loudly, “I’ll need a larger storage room back here, and probably want to widen the gates so I can get bigger wagons in and out!”
Softly, Erik said, “Keep it down, John. We’ve been doing this for three days and no one has questioned us so far. Unless they’re starting to think you’re getting hard of hearing.”
With a pained grin, Vinci said, “Just trying to be convincing.”
“We’re done,” said Erik. “Let’s get back to your shop.”
They walked through the surprisingly bustling streets of Sarth. The town was always a fairly busy one, with many fishing villages bringing their catch to market. It was also an important secondary port between Ylith and Krondor, one which many traders and not a few smugglers from the Free Cities or Queg visited. Kingdom customs had been more lax there, and as a result the city had quite a large population of people who were enterprising, irrespective of who was governing, Kingdom or some recent invader.
Armed men were everywhere, yet the mood was relaxed. The mercenaries from Novindus who were billeted in Sarth obviously felt they were far enough behind the lines to not be taken unawares.
Erik and John hurried back to John’s business, and moved through the front, then into the rear storage room, where a very bored Roo sat in a comer, half dozing. Without preamble, he said, “Are we leaving?”
Erik nodded. “Tonight.”
John said, “I’ll have a boat down at the smugglers’ cove. You’ll carry cargo, and the two men who we left down there will be happy to get back home.”
Erik said, “Roo, look at this.”
Roo stood and came to where Erik opened up his sketches. He moved them around until they formed a map of the region around the town of Sarth. “You’ll need to memorize this, so if you get back and I don’t, you can redraw it.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Roo.
“I can’t risk carrying these.” He looked at Roo and John. “If we get stopped, and we’re carrying these maps, we’re going to be dead before anyone blinks. If we don’t have them, we might be able to bluff our way out.” He looked at John. “If you hear we are caught, John, you’re going to have to try tomorrow night to get down to Krondor.”
“Me?” said Vinci.
Roo said, “That’s all right, John. It’s not going to happen.”
“But if it does,” said Erik, “you’re going to have to carry word to Duke Duko and Owen Greylock.” He pointed to the assembled pieces of paper. “Look at this, and remember everything.
“Natural terrain is the enemy,” said Erik. His finger showed a point where the checkpoint had been erected. “This is a bottleneck, this gap where the road runs atop the cliffs above the ocean and hard against the steep hillside.”
Sarth was built north of that gap, where the road swung suddenly westward and through the town. The southern edge of the town was hard against a cliff face, dropping down into a rocky beach where, even at low tide, there was no decent footing. The coast turned northwest after a while, and there Sarth’s harbor could be found, with a long sandy beach and several fishing villages to the north.
“Even if we landed support troops at the smuggler’s cove, we are still south of that gap,” said Erik.
His finger indicated the harbor. “They’ve only got one ship in the harbor, but look where it is.”
Roo said, “So if anyone sees a Kingdom fleet rounding the point south of town, they can move the ship to the mouth of the harbor and sink it.”
Erik said, “I’m no sailor, but I don’t think any ship we have can come from the south and make it through the harbor before they can move that ship and scuttle her.”
Roo said, “Unless we take her first.”
“We?” asked Erik.
“Figure of speech,” said Roo with a grin.
Erik shook his head. “We can’t get a message down to Krondor and return with a squad to take that ship. Owen will reach Krondor in three days’ time. We need to be down there in two, so we can give him the latest intelligence.”
Roo said, “If you stay and use that band of thugs John hired, you could take that ship.”
Erik said, “No. Orders. I’ve got to be back day after tomorrow.”
Roo looked at Vinci. “John?”
John held up his hands. “Not me!” He patted his ample gut and said, “I’m an old fat man, Roo, and I never was a fighter on my best day.”
Then Erik looked at Roo and said, “Would you care to volunteer for one last mission for King and Country?”
Roo frowned. “To what good?”
“You might save the lives of a lot of good men, shorten the war, and regain your lost wealth that much faster.” Erik pointed to the northeast end of town. “If we can chase Nordan’s soldiers up the coast and get ships up from Port Vykor into that harbor, we can resupply and move north that much faster.”
Roo said, “How many men do they keep on that ship, John?”
“A light crew, from what we can see. It’s been sitting there since winter. Every once in a while someone rows back and forth between the ship and the town, and we think they’ve loaded some ballast on it, but we’ve never seen any significant cargo; just a box of provisions now and again. So maybe it is a blockade ship.”
Roo scratched his head. “I’m an idiot for this, but I’ll take that ship for you, Erik. When is Greylock supposed to get here?”
“If he turns northward at sundown in three days, he’ll be here by dawn of the fourth.”
“Three more days in that shed?”
“We’ve slept in worse,” said Erik.
Roo nodded. “Don’t remind me.” He sighed. “Four days from now, just before dawn, I’ll row out and take that ship.”
Erik said, “Good. Now, John, you’ve got to memorize this map, because you’re coming with me.”
“Me?” said Vinci.
Erik smiled, and it was a smile filled with menace. “Your choice: come with me, or take the ship.”
Vinci swallowed hard. “I’ll visit Krondor.”
“Wise choice,” said Erik.
Roo said to John, “I need at least a dozen reliable men, twenty would be better.”
John shrugged. “I can get a dozen. Twenty? I’ll see.”
“I’ll need two large skiffs hidden nearby until it’s time to leave.”
“I have a warehouse near there. I’ll have the boats taken there tonight.”
Roo said, “Well, then, I guess it’s decided. At least it will be over in five more days.”
“With luck,” said Erik.
His finger stabbed at the road leading from the town to the abbey. “If Arutha and his company can neutralize Nordan’s forces up there. From the lack of troops down here I must assume he’s got at least three or four hundred soldiers up there. If they come down that road and hit Owen from behind as he’s trying to get into the city, they could throw us back south of the gap, and that would cost us dearly.”
Roo sighed. “We can only hope. That’s all we ever could do, even when we were running for our lives across Novindus: do our best and hope.”
Erik was forced to agree. “A prayer might be in order, too.”
Roo fell silent.
Arutha listened at the door. On the other side he heard voices. For the last day they had scouted out the lower basements of the abandoned library at Sarth. Dominic had estimated that as many as a thousand men could be housed at the abbey if they filled every empty chamber, even though the dormitory in the abbey itself was built for only forty monks.
They had calculated that stabling of horses dictated that the majority of soldiers in the abbey be foot soldiers, as no more than forty or fifty horses could be crowded into the courtyard of the abbey. The problem of providing fodder for the horses, and wagons full of hay or grain every week, probably kept the number down to a couple of dozen animals.
They had reached the second level of halls below the abbey proper before encountering any soldiers. Through the door at which Arutha listened they heard voices in casual conversation. Arutha moved back to where Dominic waited, and whispered, “Is there any way around this room?”
Dominic shook his head and quietly replied, “If we go back down two levels and return up the other side, we’ll still come into that room, but through a different door. There are three doors, the third being to a stairway to the level above.”
Arutha nodded. He had memorized the drawing Dominic had made. “We’ll wait here, then storm the room when it’s time to take the abbey.”
He glanced at one of Subai’s soldiers, who carried a timing glass, filled with sand. At sundown the day before, he had turned it, starting the time-keeping. Within the dark confines of the basement under the abbey, there was no natural way to mark the passing of time. And timing was critical.
“I wish I could get a look and see how many soldiers were there.”
Dominic said, “We could chance one late at night, when they’re all asleep.”
Arutha turned to a soldier and said, “Tell Captain Subai I want him to send half the men back down two levels, and up the other side, to the second door into this chamber ahead.” The soldier saluted and hurried off to carry out his orders. To Dominic, Arutha said, “It occurs to me we’ve encountered no barriers to the lower chambers, but this door or the other may be blocked. I’d not want this raid to fail because someone moved a bunk in front of this door. Whoever gets in first can insure the other door is quickly opened.”
Dominic nodded. He glanced over at the soldier holding the sand clock. “Another day and a half.”
Roo waited impatiently. The last two days had dragged, moment by moment, second by second, until he thought he would lose his mind. Then suddenly it was time to leave.
He looked at the men John had rounded up. There were sixteen of them. All looked disreputable, but none looked particularly fearsome. Still, he had seen enough harmless-looking men who turned out to be killers in his days to judge too much on appearances. He said, “Do any of you know how to work aboard ship?”
Five of them held up their hands. Roo shook his head. Pointing to the first one, he said, “You, if you hear me shout, cut loose the anchor.” To the second, he said, “If you hear me shout, raise whatever sail you can reach.” To the last he said, “And you, head for the tiller and steer us for open water.” Glancing at the other men, he said, “The rest of you, do whatever those three tell you. If we take that ship, I want to be able to get underway if anyone on shore tries to help.” To himself he silently added, and get the hell away from Sarth if the attack fails.
“Ready?” he asked, and the men nodded. “Once we start moving, don’t stop for anything unless I tell you or we’re attacked.” He opened the door to Vinci’s store, and said, “Let’s go.”
The men followed Roo into the predawn gloom, down the street where Vinci’s store sat, then around a corner that put them on the main street through the town, part of the King’s Highway. They followed it, moving quickly without running, and when the road turned north again, they followed a smaller street that led down to the southern end of the docks. To Roo’s mind, Sarth looked like nothing so much as a right hand slapped down on an otherwise northwest-running shoreline. The thumb was where the road turned west for a while, and the bulk of the town rested between, until the road turned north up the index finger. The docks started at the crook of the thumb and followed the highway for a distance, with several blocks of houses between the highway and the bay.
As they reached the docks, Roo found Vinci had instructed other men to leave the warehouse unbolted. It was the last one on the lower dock, the westernmost part of the thumb in Roo’s imagination, and inside were two boats. Each boat was lifted by six men and quickly moved down a boat ramp, set in the water, and pushed off with eight men climbing into the first, and Roo and the other eight climbing into the second. They almost held their breath trying to be silent, but everything around them remained quiet.
Two men in each boat put oars into the water and rowed lightly, moving across the water to the ship, a dark silhouette against the grey of sky and water. As they neared, Roo felt a cold chill in his stomach. Softly he said, “Damn.”
“What?” asked a man nearby.
“It’s a Quegan trader.”
“So?” asked a second man.
“Nothing,” said Roo. “I’m in enough trouble with Queg that a little more won’t make me any more dead if they catch me.”
A low cackle from a third man answered the remark, then the man said, “No, but it might make your dying a little nastier.”
“Thanks,” said Roo. “That makes me feel so much better.”
The first boat reached the stern of the ship, a two-masted trading vessel. A man in the bow of the first boat leaped to a rear anchor line and nimbly climbed to the gunwale. He peeked over, turned, and nodded down to those in the boats below.
Silently, men started climbing aboard.
Up on deck, the sailor assigned the night watch sat against the rail sleeping. Roo motioned, and one of the men struck the sleeping sentry hard on the head with the hilt of a sword. The man slumped over, unconscious.
Roo motioned for the men to move fore and aft, and down into the ship they went. Things were quiet, then suddenly a shout from the bow of the ship sounded, answered quickly by the sound of blows. Other voices were raised, then it was quiet again. A minute later a group of downcast-looking sailors emerged from the fore hatch, followed a moment later by men coming up the aft. There were only twenty-two men aboard, including the Captain and mate. All had been asleep and had been easily roused from their berths to find themselves facing armed men.
Roo breathed a sigh of relief. The ship was his.
Roo looked at one of the men, who didn’t look like a sailor. “Where did you find him?” he asked one of the smugglers.
The smuggler said, “In a little cabin next to the Captain’s.”
Roo came to stand before the man and said, “There’s something familiar about you. Who are you?”
The man remained silent. Roo said, “Light a lantern.”
One of the smugglers did so and brought it over. Roo held it close. “I know you! You’re one of Vasarius’s men. Your name is Velari.”
The man politely said, “Mr. Avery.”
Roo laughed. “Don’t tell me this is one of Lord Vasarius’s ships?”
“It is,” said the high-placed servant. He had been the first Quegan to meet Roo on his first visit to that island.
“Isn’t that something,” said Roo. “Well, I’m sure Vasarius is holding me personally responsible for every injury done him since I last saw him, so this additional offense won’t surprise him.”
Velari said, “He’ll eventually find out, Avery.”
“You can tell him,” said Roo.
“Me? Aren’t you going to kill us?”
“No reason to,” said Roo. “In fact, we’re doing you a favor. Sometime in the next few hours a full-scale war is about to erupt around here, and by that time I plan on being safely out of this harbor and on my way south.”
“War?” said Valari.
“Yes, the very one you were told was the signal for you to sink this ship in the harbor.”
“Sink this ship?” said Valari. “Why would we do that?”
“To keep Kingdom ships out of the harbor.” answered Roo.
“We have no such orders,” said Vinci.
“Then what are you waiting here for?”
The question was answered by silence.
Roo looked as if he was turning away, then he rounded hard and slammed his fist into Valari’s stomach. The man collapsed to the deck, unable to breathe for a moment, then he crawled to his knees and vomited on the deck. Roo knelt and grabbed him by the hair, pulling his face up and saying, “Now, what are you waiting for?”
Again the man looked at Roo but said nothing. Roo pulled his dagger and held it before Valari’s eyes. “Would you speak better if parts of you were missing?”
“We’re waiting for another ship.”
“What ship?”
The man was silent until Roo put the point of the dagger in the meat of Valari’s shoulder and started to push, slowly increasing the pressure so that it became painful quickly, without doing serious damage.
Valari winced, then his eyes watered, then he cried out. “Stop it!” he begged.
“What ship?” asked Roo, letting the point dig deeper. He knew it was a light wound, but he also sensed that Valari wasn’t a man who knew that and was not used to enduring pain.
Valari sobbed, “My Lord Vasarius comes to Sarth.”
“Vasarius! Here?” said Roo, wiping his blade and putting it away. “Why?”
“To escort us back to Queg.”
Roo stood up, eyes wide. Turning to the leader of the smugglers, he said, “Get ready to raise sail. If I shout to get underway, I want to be moving by the time I’m back up on deck.”
Roo hurried to a hatchway and half-jumped down the companionway to the lower deck. He ducked through a low door into the main cargo hold and saw crates and sacks lashed down along both sides of the hold. He grabbed a large sack and tried to lift it. It was too heavy to move. He used his knife to cut loose a small cord tied around the top of the sack, and gold spilled out onto the deck.
As loud as he could, Roo shouted, “Get underway.”
Men shouted up on the deck, and the sound of a fist striking a jaw informed Roo the smugglers were insuring the captive sailors were obeying orders. He heard an ax fall and knew they had cut away the anchor and chain.
Roo found a pry bar and opened a crate. Inside, in the gloom, he had no trouble recognizing riches. Gems, coins, jewelry, a bolt of expensive silk, all had been haphazardly dumped into the chest and it had been nailed shut.
Roo knew what he had stumbled across; it was the booty of Krondor and Sarth, boxed and stored aboard this ship to send to Queg. As he made his way back up to the deck, Roo began to wonder. Why would General Fadawah be sending riches to Lord Vasarius?
He saw sails falling from the yards and his appointed man on the tiller as the ship slowly began to move forward, toward the mouth of the harbor. Roo moved to stand before Valari and said, “What is Fadawah buying from Queg?”
If Valari had any inclination to refuse to answer, it fled when Roo produced the dagger and showed it to him. “Weapons! He buys weapons.”
“What weapons?”
“Swords, shields, pikes, and bows. Arrows, crossbows, and bolts. Catapults and ballistae. And fire oil.”
“And it’s being shipped here?”
“No, it is already delivered, to Ylith. But the gold was here and Fadawah arranged for it to be secretly stored on this ship.”
“Why wasn’t it guarded better?” asked one of the smugglers nearby. “I mean, if we had known, we’d have taken this ship ourselves, days ago!”
“Because guards would have called attention,” said Roo. “They circulated a rumor it was a blockade ship, to be sunk in the harbor mouth.” He grinned. “Lads, you’re going farther than we thought. We’re not going down the coast to the cove and then ashore to meet the army. We’re heading down to Krondor itself.”
“Why?” asked one of the smugglers.
“Because I’m claiming this gold for the crown, and the crown owes me gold beyond imagining, so I’m taking this cargo in partial payment of my debt, and because all of you will be paid a month’s wages for each day we’re at sea.”
One of the men got a calculating look and said, “Why shouldn’t we just split it up? We don’t work for you, Avery.”
Suddenly Roo’s sword was out of its scabbard before the man could react. The point touched the man in the throat and Roo said, “Because I’m the only real soldier on this ship, and you copper-grubbing thugs are getting a chance for some real gold. Why die so a few of you can share this, when you can live and get enough to keep you drunk for the rest of your life?”
“Just asking,” said the man, backing away.
“Besides,” said Roo, “Vinci knows each of you, and if I don’t make it alive back to Krondor and you show up anywhere in the West with gold, he’ll know to send assassins after you.”
That was a bluff, but Roo didn’t think any of these smugglers were smart enough to suspect it was. He turned and shouted, “Get as much sail on as you can once we’re out of the harbor! And find a Kingdom banner if there’s one in the Captain’s cabin and hoist it aloft! I don’t want to get sunk by one of Reeve’s attack ships before we can explain we’re on their side.”
As they exited the harbor, the lookout shouted, “Galley off the starboard bow!”
Roo raced to the fore of the ship and looked where the lookout indicated. Sure enough, heaving out of the morning mist came a Quegan war galley. Roo didn’t hesitate, but dashed back to where the Captain of the ship still stood under guard. “How tight to the southern headland can you turn this ship without killing us all?”
The Captain said, “At this speed, not very.”
“So we either slow down and get overtaken, or we turn south and shoal out.”
“Yes,” said the Captain with a smile.
Roo looked toward the canvas and saw the luff of the sail. He was not a true sailor, but he had served aboard ship on two long voyages down to Novindus. To those sailors aloft, he said, “I’ll give every man here a thousand pieces of gold if we get away from that galley!”
Quegan sailors were often pressed into service, and none were known particularly for deep loyalty to their Emperor. Suddenly the activity above increased to a frenzied pace as Roo shouted orders. The Captain realized he was in the presence of a man who knew his way around a ship and said, “We can heel hard to port in a few moments and if we hold tight into the wind, make it clear of rocks, Mr. Avery.”
Roo looked at the Captain and said, “Switching sides?”
“For twelve years I’ve sailed for my Lord Vasarius, and if I’ve made a thousand gold pieces in that time, it was barely.”
“Good,” said Roo. “For the Captain, two thousand. Now get us out of here.”
The Captain shouted orders, and turned to take the tiller away from the man Roo had assigned to the job. Valari said, “What about me?”
Roo said, “Can you swim?”
“Yes, but—”
Roo nodded to the powerful-looking smuggler who had just released the tiller, and the man grabbed Valari by the collar and the seat of the pants, and with two steps pitched him over the side of the ship. As the man came to the surface, Roo called down, “Perhaps your employer will stop and pick you up!”
The galley bore down on them, and Roo stood on the quarterdeck, watching as it came straight at them, then to the side, and then to the stern, as the Captain turned southward. The men on the bow of the galley could be clearly seen, astonished expressions on their faces as the ship they were sent to escort seemed to be turning in the wrong direction.
A few moments later, the galley turned to pursue. “Can we lose her?” asked Roo.
The Captain said, “If we run out of wind before they run out of slaves, no. If they run out of slaves first, yes.”
Roo said, “I hate to do it to the slaves, but let’s pray for wind.”
The Captain nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“Nardini,” said the Captain.
“Well, Captain Nardini, I used to have a fleet, and I expect to have one again. If we live through this, not only will you get your gold, I’ll give you a job.”
“That would be nice,” said the Captain, a balding man of middle years. “I’ve never been farther into Krondor than the docks. I was last there about three years ago.”
“It’s changed since you were there,” said Roo.
“So I hear,” replied the Captain.
Roo looked rearward and saw the galley was holding steady about two hundred yards off their stern. They had come around the thumb, as Roo thought of it, and the coast fell away to the east, leaving them in relatively open water.
Roo knew that a support fleet was due to hit Sarth at noon, and hoped they reached it before Vasarius’s war galley reached them.
Arutha whispered, “Try the latch.”
The soldier nearest him quietly moved the latch up and the door opened. There was a faint squeak, but no one inside the room seemed to notice. He followed the first man into the room and glanced around in the dim light. A single candle burned on a table halfway across the long wall, opposite the stairway leading upward to the next level. The floor was littered with a dozen empty sleeping pallets, while another six were occupied. With a hand signal, Captain Subai indicated they were to be subdued and they were. Solders entered from the second door and Arutha smiled as he whispered, “Well, it seems I owe those soldiers an apology; that was a lot of stair climbing for no good reason.”
Subai said, “They understand.”
Arutha turned to locate Brother Dominic. The cleric wore a helm and breastplate, but carried no sword. He only sported a dull cudgel. He had said that his order would not permit him to spill blood. Breaking heads, Arutha had observed dryly, was permitted, however.
“What now?”
Dominic said, “There is something …”
“What?”
“I don’t know. A presence …”
Arutha said, “A presence?”
“It’s something I’ve felt before, but fainter, more distant.”
“What?” urged Arutha.
“I don’t know,” whispered the cleric. “But whatever it is, it is not good. I should lead the soldiers up the stairs. If it is magical or mystic, I may be able to protect us.”
Arutha nodded, frowning. Since the death of the Pantathian Serpent Priests and Pug’s destruction of the demon Jakan, there had been no reports of any magical activity among the enemy. The possibility that some agency of darkness had hidden among them and was now about to manifest itself bothered him. But there was no turning back.
Dominic mounted the stairs and Arutha, Subai, and the soldiers followed. They entered a long hallway with doorways on either side, each leading into a large storage room, used to house books just a year earlier. Each doorway was open, and through the portals they could see more sleeping men. Arutha did a quick estimation and judged a hundred men between the two rooms. He signaled, and Subai placed archers at each end of the hall.
He then set about waking the invaders, quietly and one at a time, so that each man awoke to the sight of a naked blade before his face and archers behind drawing a bead. In less than a half hour, all one hundred mercenaries were herded down to the lowest chamber, to join the first six men captured.
“This can’t last,” said Subai quietly.
As if his words were prophetic, at the top of the next flight of stairs they were spied by two men walking down the corridor. As soon as they saw the black uniforms, the mercenaries knew there were Kingdom soldiers in the building. They raised alarm, and Arutha shouted, “Every man to his position!”
Each man knew his assignment. There were a dozen key positions throughout the abbey, and if the Kingdom forces could secure them, the invaders would be isolated from the town below. While Arutha and his men might be forced to eventually withdraw back down the stairs into the lower chambers of the abbey, they could keep the garrison up here from mounting a counterattack down the mountain to relieve the garrison at Sarth.
Sleepy mercenaries came stumbling through doors on both sides of the hall, and Arutha found himself fighting for his life. He had never fought in combat before, and until this moment had harbored a deep fear he would not be up to the task. He anticipated shame that he could not serve his King the way his father and sons already had. Yet now, without hesitation, he was coolly engaging a man intent on killing him. He had no time to think about his previous doubts, and without conscious effort, years of practice and drill took over and he began laying about him, using the sword once carried by his namesake, Prince Arutha.
Slowly they moved along the corridor, driving the forces of General Nordan before them. At the end of the corridor, another flight of stairs led upward. By the time Arutha reached them, the hall was littered with bodies, most of them invaders, and a trio of men stood at the bottom of the stairs. Fighting up the stairs would be difficult, as the advantage of height would make this a difficult contest.
From behind a voice shouted, “Down!”
Without hesitation, Arutha fell to the floor, ignoring the pool of blood in which he lay. A flight of arrows sped by overhead, and the three men upon the first step of the stairway fell. Before Arutha could rise to his feet, men were racing past him, their boots pounding on the stones of the steps as they hurried up to engage the enemy on the next level.
Arutha knew he was one flight below ground level. Above them stood the abbey, the stable, the outbuilding, and the walls. If they could get to the tower above the abbey, and command positions atop the walls, they could win the day.
Arutha took a deep breath and charged after the soldiers in front of him.