JIMMY HALTED.
The escort stopped behind him. The Captain of the company of Patrick’s Royal Household Guards said, “This is as far as we’re supposed to go, m’lord.” He glanced around. “Leave it to those—”
“Captain?”
“I mean no disrespect to Lord Duko, m’lord, but after all, we were fighting him and those miserable bastards he calls soldiers just last year.” He noted Jimmy’s disapproving expression and said, “Anyway, they should be here, making a camp, before they start back to their patrol.”
“Maybe they ran into some trouble.”
“Possible, my lord.”
They were at a fork in the road, the agreed-upon southern limit of Krondorian patrols – everything to the south was Duko’s responsibility. The southwest fork in the road led to Port Vykor, while the southeast fork would start around the edge of Shandon Bay, eventually leading toward Land’s End.
Jimmy said, “We’ll be fine, Captain. We’re halfway to Port Vykor and should be running into Lord Duko’s patrols any time now. If they’re not here today, they’ll be here tomorrow, I’m sure.”
“I’d still feel better if you’d wait here until one shows up, m’lord. We could linger here for another half-day or so.”
“Thanks, but no, Captain. The sooner I get to Port Vykor, the sooner I can be about the Prince’s business. We’ll continue along the southwest road until sundown, then we’ll camp. If Duko’s patrol doesn’t show up to escort us tomorrow, we’ll find our way to Port Vykor alone.”
“Very well, m’lord. May the gods watch over you.”
“And you, too, Captain.”
They parted company with the Krondorian patrol, who turned northward, while Jimmy and Malar continued southwest. They rode through quiet countryside, scrub grass, and what once might have been farmland, but which had known the tread of the conqueror’s boot too often. Keshians on their way to the Kingdom, and Kingdom soldiers on their way to Kesh, had turned these rolling hills and sparse woodlands into a no-man’s-land in the last hundred years. The rich lands of the Vale of Dreams to the east kept farmers and their families struggling despite the constant threat of war between two nations rolling over them. The lands through which Jimmy and Malar rode offered no such bounty. They might be the only two men for fifty miles in any direction.
As the sun sank low in the western sky, Malar asked, “What shall we do now, my lord?”
Jimmy looked around and pointed to a small dell near a clear-running stream. “Make camp for the night. Tomorrow we’ll continue toward Port Vykor.”
Malar had unsaddled the horses and brushed them down. Jimmy had discovered he was a competent enough groom along with his other talents. Jimmy said, “You feed the horses and I’ll gather some firewood.”
Malar said, “Yes, m’lord.”
Jimmy moved around the campsite, finding enough small branches and sticks to make a reasonable fire.
After the fire was ready, Malar set about making an acceptable meal: hot trail biscuits, a mix of dried beef and vegetables chopped and mixed into a pot of rice, to which he added spices which made it quite flavorful. Malar produced a ceramic bottle of wine from Darkmoor. He even had a pair of cups.
As they ate, Jimmy said, “Port Vykor is a bit out of the way for you. If you’re up to the risk, you may have that horse and ride on to the east. You’re still north of the frontier and should be able to reach the vale safely.”
Malar shrugged. “I will reach the vale eventually, my lord. My master is almost certainly dead, but perhaps his family has conspired to keep his business afloat and I can be of use to them. But I would rather spend a little more time in your company – the fierceness of your blade makes me more comfortable on the road than I would be alone.”
“You managed well enough for those winter months you wandered in the wilderness.”
“Of necessity, but not by choice. And most of that time was spent starving and hiding.”
Jimmy nodded. He ate his meal and sipped his wine. “Is this off?” he asked.
Malar sipped his wine. “Not that I can tell, young lord.”
Jimmy shrugged. “It’s odd for this type of wine. Something metallic.”
Malar took another sip. “Not that I can notice, sir. Perhaps you are just getting an odd aftertaste from the food. Maybe with the next drink it will taste differently.”
Jimmy sipped again and swallowed. “No, it’s definitely off.” He set the cup aside. “I think some water would be better.” Malar started to stand, and Jimmy said, “I’ll get it.” He started walking toward the creek and suddenly felt a wave of dizziness. He turned and looked to where the horses were tied. The horse seemed to be moving away from him, and then he felt as if he stepped into a hole, for he was now a great deal closer to the ground than before. He looked down and saw that he was on his knees, and as he tried to stand, his head swam. He fell hard to the ground and rolled over on his back. The face of Malar Enares moved into his view, and from a great distance, said, “I believe the wine was off, young Lord James.”
The features of the man moved out of view and Jimmy tried to follow him. Jimmy rolled over and, lying with his head on his arm, he could see Malar move to Jimmy’s horse, and open the pouches with all his messages to Duke Duko. He glanced at several of them, nodded, and put them back into the pouch.
Jimmy felt his legs getting cold and felt a distant stab of panic. His thinking was growing foggy and he couldn’t remember what it was he was supposed to do. His throat was tightening and his breathing was growing labored. Jimmy tried to force open his mouth with his left hand, which now felt as if he were wearing huge gloves. Dull sensations reached his brain, and suddenly he gagged on his own fingers, vomit rushing up through his mouth and nose. He gasped and choked, spat, and groaned aloud. His body wracked with pain as he felt his stomach heave again.
Malar’s voice came from a great distance away. “It’s a pity such a fair young lord has to come to such a messy and undignified end, but such are the necessities of war.”
Somewhere in a dim evening, Jimmy heard a horse riding away, and then he was hit by another agonizing cramp and everything faded from view.
Dash looked across the faces of the men who had been recruited. Some were ex-soldiers, grey-haired men who remembered how to handle a sword. Others were street toughs, men who were just as likely to be brawling in a tavern as trying to keep the peace in the city. A few were mercenaries, looking for steady work, men who were clearly Kingdom citizens and who were not known criminals.
“We’re presently under martial law in Krondor, which means just about any violation of the law is a hanging offense.”
The men looked at one another, some nodding.
Dash continued, “This will start to change as of today. You are the first company of the new City Watch. You will be instructed in what that means in greater detail as we go, but unfortunately, we have no time to educate you before we begin. So, I will make a few things clear to you all.” He held up a red armband, upon which a rough coat of arms, which looked like the Prince’s, had been sewn. “You’ll wear this at all times when on duty. It’s what marks you as the Prince’s men. You break a head while wearing this, you’re restoring order; you break a head without it, and you’re another thug I’ll see behind bars. Is that clear?”
The men nodded and grunted agreement.
“I’ll make this simple. This armband doesn’t give you the right to bully, to settle old grudges, or to annoy the women in the town. Any man here who is convicted of assault, rape, or theft while wearing this will be hanged. Is that clear?”
The men were silent a moment, and a few nodded they understood. “Is that clear?” Dash repeated, and the men were more vocal in acknowledging the question.
“Now, until we can recruit a full-blown City Watch, the routine will be a half-day on, then a half-day off. One day in five, you’ll work round the clock while the other half will get the day to themselves. If you know any men of arms-bearing age who can be recruited and can be trusted, send them to see me.”
Using a chopping motion, he split the forty men in the room in half. “You,” he said to the men on his right, “are the day watch. You,” he said to the men on his left, “are the night watch. Get me another twenty good men and we’ll go to three watches.”
The men nodded.
Dash said, “Now, headquarters will be here in the palace until we can get the city courts and jail rebuilt. The prison here is the only one we have. We don’t have a lot of room, so I don’t want it filled with drunks and brawlers. If you have to break up a fight, send them home with a kick in the butt, but if you have to bring them in, don’t be shy. I’ll assume that if someone is stupid enough to not take a chance to get off with a warning, they need to talk to a judge.
“We’re going to lift curfew at the Old Town Market; people are using it to trade now as the rest of the city rebuilds, and it’s starting to be a trouble spot, but if we’re going to have trouble, I want it in one place, not all over the city. So, pass the word, the market is open from sunset to midnight now. The rest of the city is still under curfew unless the person is on their way home from the market. And they better have the goods or gold to show they’ve been trading.
“Anyone causes you trouble, deal with it. We don’t have enough swords to get you out of trouble if you get in over your head.” He looked around the room at the faces of the men he now commanded and said, “If you’re killed, I promise we’ll avenge you.”
One of the men said, “That’s comforting,” and the others laughed.
“I’ll lead the first of you down to the market. You lot on the night shift, turn in. You’re going to patrol the entire city, and if you see anyone outside the market after dark, bring them in for questioning.
“For today, anyone asks, you tell them you’re the Prince’s Law. Let’s get the word out that order is returning to Krondor. Now, let’s go.”
The twenty men on the day shift rose and followed Dash outside the room. He moved through the large courtyard of the palace to the newly restored drawbridge over the still-dry moat. Some of the water system was still under repair and the palace wouldn’t be isolated from the city by the moat again for a few more weeks. As they crossed the drawbridge, Dash said, “If no one causes any trouble and forces you to haul them back to the jail, I want you to keep moving. I want you everyplace you can reasonably reach. I want the citizens seeing lots of those red armbands … let them think we’ve got a dozen men for each one of you. If anyone asks, you don’t know how many watchmen there are, just lots of them.”
The men nodded, and as they walked toward the market square, Dash began splitting off pairs of constables and sending them along different routes, directing their activities for the first day of his new responsibility. More than once he silently cursed Patrick for his choice.
Dash was down to four men when he reached the market square of Krondor. Shortly after the original keep of the castle had been built, when the first Prince of Krondor had declared this city the capital of the Western Realm of the Kingdom of the Isles, the traders and local fishermen and farmers who lived in the region began regularly gathering in this market to trade, barter, and sell their wares. Over the years the city had grown, developed, and evolved to the point where the vast majority of trade was conducted by businessmen in all quarters of the city, but the ancient market square endured, and it was the first place for the reviving city to find its financial soul. It was thronging with men and women of all stations: merchants, nobles, fishermen, farmers, traders, peddlers, whores, beggars, thieves, and vagabonds.
Several people cast a wary eye at the five men, for while there were swordsmen here or there, the majority of soldiers had departed the city with Duko heading south, or with the Armies of the West, heading north. Only the Prince’s Royal Household Guard remained, and they remained in the palace.
A short distance from where they had entered, Dash spied a familiar face. Luis de Savona was unloading a wagon, helped by a woman who turned out, to a surprised Dash, to be Roo Avery’s wife Karli. Dash turned to his men and said, “Start wandering through the crowd, but unless you see a murder in progress, just keep looking.”
The men spread out, and Dash crossed to where Luis and Karli were unloading the wagon. A local trader was watching closely as Luis handed down boxes of freight to the trader’s boy.
Dash said, “Mrs. Avery! Luis! How are you?”
Luis looked over and smiled. “Dash! It’s good to see you.”
“When did you arrive in Krondor?”
“Very early this morning,” replied Luis.
They shook hands, and Karli said, “I was very sorry to hear about your father. I still remember the day I first met him, at our house.” She glanced over in the general direction of where their townhouse had once stood, across the street from Barret’s Coffee House, now a burned-out husk of a building. “He was very kind to Roo and me.”
Dash said, “Thank you. It’s very difficult, but … well, you’ve lost your father, so you know.”
She nodded.
Luis fingered the armband and said, “What is this?”
“I’m the new Sheriff of Krondor, and it falls to me to uphold the Prince’s peace in the city.”
Luis smiled. “You’d be better off coming back to work for Roo. You’d lose your noble office, but you’d make a great deal more money with far less work.”
Dash laughed. “Probably you’re right, but as it is, we’re very short-handed and Prince Patrick needs all of us pulling our weight.” He glanced at the freight. “Goods from Darkmoor?”
“No,” said Luis. “We unloaded our cargo from Darkmoor when we got in early this morning. These are from the Far Coast, actually. The ships still can’t get into the harbor, but they’re anchoring off of Fishtown and we’re ferrying the goods ashore with fishing boats.”
Karli asked, “How is your brother?”
“He’s fine; he’s running an errand for Patrick. He should be halfway to Port Vykor about now.”
Luis finished unloading the cargo, and said, “Give us a minute, then I’ll buy us an ale.”
“That would be welcome, Luis.”
Karli counted out the gold the merchant gave him, under the watchful eye of the merchant’s bodyguard, and then said, “Luis, we can’t get young Dash drunk, so maybe we should get him to share a bite.” She looked at Dash. “Hungry?”
Dash said, “Actually, I am.”
They walked across the market to an open-air kitchen, where hot meat pies were being sold. Karli purchased three, then they moved to an ale wagon, where Luis got three jacks of cold brew for them. Like most of those eating in the market, they stood and made do with keeping out of the way of those walking through the aisle.
Luis said, “I was only partly joking; I could use someone of your talents. Things are beginning to turn around and men of talent are going to get rich.” He motioned with his bad hand while juggling the hot pie with his good one. “Since Helen and I married, Roo has made me manager of all Avery and Jacoby business while he’s gone.”
Karli said, “It’s Avery and de Savon, now. Helen insisted.”
Luis smiled slightly. “It wasn’t my idea.” He put down the pie and picked up the pewter jack of ale. After he took a drink, he said, “I’m so busy I don’t know what I need to do next. The wagon builders in Darkmoor are getting our freight business back to where it was before the destruction of the city, and the orders for cargo are starting to come in.”
“What about the other businesses that Roo held?”
Luis shrugged. “I’m in charge of the Avery and de Savon business. Most of the other was Bitter Sea Company. Roo hasn’t said much. I get the feeling most of that is gone with the destruction of the city. I know he had some holdings in the East, but I think he’s borrowed a great deal to get this enterprise underway. I know much about his business, but there is more that I don’t know.” He looked at Karli.
“Roo has told me most everything about his business interests,” said Karli. “Except some things to do with the crown. I think the Kingdom owes Roo a large debt.”
“No doubt,” said Dash. “My grandfather got several very sizable loans from the Bitter Sea Company.” Dash looked around. “While I suspect they will eventually be paid, as you can see, the Kingdom has a great deal to repair here before debts are settled.” He finished his pie. With a long pull he drained the jack of ale, and said, “I thank you for the meal—”
Before he could say more, a shout from the next aisle caused him to turn. “Thief!”
Dash was off, hurrying toward the source of the disturbance. He rounded a corner and saw a man running right at him, looking over his shoulder to see who was behind. Dash braced himself, and as the man turned to look ahead, Dash struck him hard across the chest with an extended arm. As Dash expected, the man’s feet went right out from under him and he fell hard upon the ground.
Dash knelt, his sword across the man’s throat before he could regain his wits, and said, “In a hurry?”
The man started to move, but at the gentle pressure of the blade against his neck he relaxed. “Not anymore,” he said with a grimace.
Two of Dash’s constables appeared, and Dash said, “Take him to the palace.”
Dash stood as they hoisted the thief to his feet and took him away. Dash moved to where Luis and Karli were finishing their meal, and said, “I’m going to borrow your wagon a moment.” He moved to where the Avery and de Savon wagon was tied and mounted it. He stood up on the driver’s seat and shouted, “My name is Dashel Jamison! I am the new Sheriff of Krondor! The men you see wearing red armbands like mine are my constables. Pass the word that the law is returning to Krondor!”
Several merchants gave a weak cheer, but the majority of those gathered in the quarter seemed indifferent or openly contemptuous. Dash returned to where Karli and Luis stood. “Well, I think that went rather well, don’t you?”
Karli laughed, and Luis said, “There are many here in the square who would just as soon not see any return of law to the city.”
Dash said, “And I think I just spotted another of them. Excuse me,” he said, darting into the crowd after a youngster he saw stealing a trinket from a distracted merchant.
Karli and Luis watched him until after he vanished into the press, and Karli said, “I always liked that young man.”
Luis said, “There’s a great deal of his grandfather in him. He’s a charming rogue.”
Karli said, “Don’t call him that. He has far too deep a sense of duty to be a rogue.”
Luis said, “I stand corrected. You are, of course, right.”
Karli laughed. “Helen has you trained well, doesn’t she?”
Luis laughed in return. “It was easy. I would never wish to make her unhappy.”
“Scant chance of that,” said Karli. “Well, we have another load waiting at the docks. Let’s go get it.”
As Luis mounted the wagon, Karli put her hand on her lower back and stretched. “I won’t be doing this much longer. I hope Roo finished up his business to the north and gets back soon.”
Luis nodded agreement as she climbed the wagon, then he flicked the reins, getting the horses headed toward the harbor.
Lord Vasarius glanced to his left and said, “Have you come to mock me, Avery?”
“Not in the least, my Lord Vasarius. I came out to enjoy the night air, as did you.”
The defeated Quegan noble looked at his former business associate and current enemy. “Your Captain has been almost gracious in allowing me some liberty from that cabin.”
“As is befitting your rank. Had our positions been reversed, I suspect I would be belowdecks on a Quegan ship, pulling against an oar.”
“As is befitting your rank,” replied Vasarius.
Roo laughed. “You haven’t entirely lost your sense of humor, I see.”
“I wasn’t joking,” Vasarius answered flatly.
Roo’s smile faded. “Well, as fate would have it, you will enjoy a far less dire fate than I would have, it seems.”
“I would have had you killed,” said Vasarius.
“No doubt.” Roo was silent a moment, then said, “My Prince is almost certain to return you to Queg by the first Free Cities ship heading there, as he has no desire to further antagonize your Emperor. It seems to me we have this opportunity to reach an accommodation.”
Vasarius turned to face Roo. “Accommodation? To what purpose? You’ve won. I am close to ruin. My last copper piece was tied up in those ships and the cargo we sold to Fadawah. It’s now at the bottom of the sea, and I can’t see how you can be of any help to me, considering you were the one who sank my treasure!”
Roo shrugged. “Strictly speaking, you sank the treasure. I was merely trying to steal it.
“In any event, that wealth was stripped from the citizens of the Kingdom, and perhaps some from those living across the sea. I can’t feel much sympathy for you losing that fortune, if you can see my point.”
“Barely. But it’s entirely academic, now, isn’t it?”
“Not necessarily,” said Roo.
“If you’re proposing something, propose.”
“I had nothing to do with your greed, Vasarius. If you had been anything near cautious, you wouldn’t have dispatched your entire fleet to the Straits of Darkness on the strength of a rumor.”
Vasarius laughed. “Of course, it was a rumor you spread.”
“Of course,” said Roo, “but any decent investigation might have made you reconsider the plan.”
“Your Lord James was far too clever, by half. I’m sure, had I checked, I would have found more rumors to support the story of a vast treasure fleet coming from across the Endless Sea.”
Roo said, “There is that. James had the most facile mind I’ve ever encountered. But that’s not the point. The point is you have something to gain as do I, and we need to agree to that before we reach Krondor.”
“What is that?”
“The price of my life.”
Vasarius studied Roo for a long moment, then said, “Say on.”
“I was taking that treasure ship of yours to Krondor. I would have sent the ship back to you, for I would not be counted a pirate, but the gold was taken from the Kingdom and was to be returned to the Kingdom.” He smiled. “As it happens, the crown is in debt to me, considerable debt, and I suspect I would have accounted much of that treasure to that debt, so in a sense, it was more my treasure than yours.”
Vasarius said, “Avery, your logic astonishes me.”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment. Besides, the treasure resides below a great deal of ocean at the moment.”
“Ah, but I know how to get it,” said Roo.
Vasarius’s eyes narrowed. He said, “And you need me to get it?”
“No, actually, I don’t need you at all. In fact, unless you have access to certain magicians, you’re of no use to me. I can locate members of the Wreckers Guild of Krondor. They’re actively clearing the harbor right now, but the Prince will let me borrow some for a small commission.”
“So then, why tell me this?”
“Because here’s my offer. I will take what I raise from the ocean’s floor. I will need to give one part in ten to the crown for interrupting their clearing of the harbor. And I will be forced to account the rest toward the debt of the crown, I am certain. And I will have to pay the guild’s fee. But I am willing to divide what remains equally, and ship that half to Queg.”
“In exchange for what?”
“For you not engaging the services of a highly trained assassin as soon as you return to Queg.”
“That is all?”
“More, a vow that you will never attempt to harm me or my family, nor will you idly allow anyone over whom you have influence in Queg to trouble us.”
Vasarius was silent for a very long time, and Roo resisted the impulse to speak.
Finally the Quegan noble said, “If you can do this and account to me half the money you raise less the Prince’s cut and the guild’s fee, then I will agree to seek no further reprisals against you or your family.”
The night air was cooling, and Roo hugged himself. “That takes a great load off my mind.”
“Is there anything else?” asked Vasarius.
“One suggestion,” said Roo.
“What?”
“Consider that when this war with Fadawah’s invaders is over, there will be many opportunities for profit. But not if a war erupts between Queg and the Kingdom. Both sides have suffered from the invaders’ intrusion into the Bitter Sea, and more war would bleed us all white.”
“Agreed,” said Vasarius. “We are not ready to fight a war.”
“That’s not the point. The point is when you’re ready to fight one, it still does neither side any good.”
“That is for us to decide,” said the Quegan.
“Well, if you don’t see it my way, at least consider this: there is going to be a great deal of profit in rebuilding the entire Bitter Sea after the war with Fadawah is finished, and those who aren’t fighting are going to be able to reap most of it. I could use associates in many of the undertakings I’ll be contemplating.”
“You have the effrontery to suggest an association, after I made that terrible mistake once already?”
“No, but if you should someday choose to make it, I will listen.”
Vasarius said, “I have heard enough. I will return to my cabin.”
“Think on this, then, my lord,” said Roo as the Quegan walked away. “There will be a great many men needing transport across the sea to Novindus, and there are few ships able to carry them. The fees for such transport will not be trivial.”
Vasarius paused the briefest instant, then continued walking, until he disappeared down the ladder to the main deck and the cabins below.
Roo turned and looked out at the star-filled night, watching the whitecaps on the water. “I’ve got him!” he whispered to himself.
Jimmy felt as if someone had kicked in his ribs. It hurt to breathe and someone was tugging at his collar. A distant voice said, “Drink this.”
Something wet touched his lips and he felt cool water fill his mouth and he drank reflexively. Suddenly his stomach knotted and he spewed forth the water, convulsing as strong hands held him.
His eyes were stuck shut. His head rang and his back felt as if his spine had been hammered by a mace; his trousers were fouled with his own excrement. Again water was forced between his lips and a voice in his ear said, “Sip slowly.”
Jimmy let the water trickle slowly down his throat, a few drops at a time, and this time his stomach accepted the bounty. Other hands picked him up and moved him.
He passed out.
Sometime later, he woke up again, and found that a half-dozen armed men had set up a camp. One sat near by and said, “Do you feel up to drinking some more water?”
Jimmy nodded and the man brought him a cup of water. Jimmy drank and suddenly was terribly thirsty. He drank more, and after the third cup, the man took away the waterskin, saying, “No more. For a while at least.”
Jimmy said, “Who are you?” His voice sounded dry and distant, as if it was being used by a stranger.
“My name is Captain Songti. I recognize you. You’re the one called Baron James.”
Jimmy sat up and said, “It’s Earl James now. I got a new office.” He glanced around and saw the sun was rising in the east. “How long?”
“We found you an hour after sunset. We had been preparing to make camp a short distance from here, and as is my practice, I had a rider sweep the perimeter. He saw your campfire. When we rode over to investigate, we found you lying there. There was no blood, so we thought you might have sickened on food.”
“I was poisoned,” said Jimmy. “In wine. I drank little.”
The Captain, a round-faced man with a short beard, said, “A fine palate. It saved your life.”
“Malar wasn’t trying very hard to kill me. He could have cut my throat easily enough.”
“Perhaps,” said the Captain. “Or he could have fled against our arrival. He may have been gone only minutes before we arrived. He could have heard us before we saw him. I don’t know.”
James nodded, then wished he hadn’t. His head swam. “My horse?”
“There are no horses here. You, your bedroll, a low burning fire, and that empty cup you held, that was all that was here.”
Jimmy held out his hand. “Get me to my feet.”
“You should rest.”
“Captain,” Jimmy ordered. “Help me stand.”
The Captain did as he was bid, and when Jimmy stood, he asked, “Have you some extra clothing you can spare?”
“Alas, no,” said the Captain. “We are but three days from Port Vykor and ready to return.”
“Three days …” Jimmy said. He said nothing a moment, then said, “Help me walk to the creek.”
“May I enquire why?” asked the Captain.
“Because I need to bathe. And wash my clothing.”
The Captain said, “I understand, but we would do well to return to Port Vykor as quickly as possible, so you may recover in comfort.”
“No, because after I bathe I have other business.”
“Sir?”
“I need to find someone,” said Jimmy as he looked down the southeastern road, “and then I need to kill him.”