GATHIS BOWED.
“I am pleased to see you all return and looking well,” he said.
Pug, Miranda, and Nakor had just materialized near the fountain that was the centerpiece of the garden of Pug’s estate on Sorcerer’s Island.
Pug said, “We are equally pleased to see you. How fare things here?”
Gathis smiled his toothy goblinlike grin. “Very well. If you would indulge me, there is something I think you should see before you rest. It should only take a few moments.”
Pug nodded and Gathis led him out through the building and across the meadow toward the hidden cave that was the shrine to the lost God of Magic. The cave stood open to view.
“What is this?” asked Pug.
“You observed, I think, Master Pug,” said Gathis, “that eventually the appropriate person would find this shrine.”
Miranda said, “And that person has arrived?”
“Not as we thought,” said Gathis.
Pug entered the cave, with the others behind him, and looked at the statue that had once resembled Macros the Black. He faltered as he saw his own features upon the statue. “What?”
Miranda stepped around beside her husband and she saw her features upon the statue. “I see myself!”
Nakor said, “Watch a moment.”
The face on the statue shifted and they saw the features of Robert d’Lyse. Then they saw the features of other students on the island.
“What does this mean?” asked Miranda.
“It means,” said Nakor, “that all of you are servants of magic and that there is no one person who shall be the god’s agent on Midkemia. Rather, many people will work on behalf of returning the lost God of Magic to his place in this universe.”
Pug studied the statue as other faces appeared, magicians known to him and those he had never met. After a few minutes Pug saw his own face again. Pug said, “Let’s return to the house.”
As they walked toward the house, Pug said, “Nakor, I didn’t see your face upon the statue.”
Nakor grinned and shrugged. “I know there is no magic.”
Pug laughed. “It is an all or nothing proposition, Nakor. Either everything is magic or nothing is magic.”
Nakor shrugged. “I find either proposition equally probable, but aesthetically I prefer the concept that there is no magic. Just power and the ability to utilize it.”
Miranda said, “This borders on the type of long debate you two enjoy over wine, and I am very hungry.”
Gathis said, “Food and wine wait you in your study, Master Pug.”
“Join us,” said Pug to his servant.
When they returned to the house, they found a sumptuous table set for them. Miranda took a plate and began piling on fruit and cheeses. Pug took a large flagon of wine and filled goblets.
“Gathis,” said Pug, “you are the keeper of that shrine. What is your opinion on what we’ve seen?”
“It is as Master Nakor has observed: no longer will one individual act as an agent on behalf of the lost God of Magic. Perhaps the powers have learned the error of depending too much on one individual. It says that those who practice the arts will aid the return of magic.”
Nakor shrugged. “It means that whatever power seeks to return, the God of Magic has deduced that assigning all that responsibility to one individual is risky. Macros, for all his power, made mistakes.”
Pug said, “I appreciate that fact, having already made quite a few myself.”
Miranda said, “Now that you are no longer a Duke of the Kingdom, what are your plans?”
“I still have many thousands of Saaur to relocate to the Ethel Du-ath. Eventually I will have to return to Shila and destroy whatever demons may linger there, then be about the business of reseeding enough life on that world so that in a few centuries the Saaur may return.” He smiled. “Then there’s the matter of the students here. They need to be taught, and learned from as well. And there’s the problem of finding and destroying Nalar’s agents wherever they may be hiding. Other than that, I think I may take up fishing.”
Nakor laughed. “Fishing teaches patience. That’s why I never took it up.”
“Tens of thousands died during the Riftwar, and more than twice that number during this latest war, this Serpentwar. These catastrophic events must never be allowed to be duplicated again.”
“How are we to insure they don’t?” asked Miranda.
Pug said, “That I need to think on. And it’s something we all need to be involved with. I think I may have some ideas I’ll share with you and the others living on this island. The first thing we must be certain of is that there can be no manipulation of those who serve on our behalf. Those are the tactics of our enemy, and as one who was subjected to such manipulation by your father, my love, I find the idea of continuing that practice distasteful. This is why this island must become our bastion, and those who serve here must do so willingly and with as much knowledge as it is safe for them to possess.”
“What of Stardock?” asked Miranda.
Pug said, “Stardock was begun with good intentions, but I made too many errors. I thought I would give the students more of a voice in the organization of the Academy, and to be frank, I was a product of the Tsurani Assembly. It’s been enough years since then that I think I recognize those errors.
“Stardock will continue and be an asset to us; before I built the community there, magicians were often persecuted by those fearful of their talents. ‘Witches’ were hunted down and their pitiful woodland huts burned to the ground, or ‘wizards’ were walled up in caves to die of starvation and thirst, unless they became powerful enough to keep people away through fear, or they had patrons who were noble or rich. At least now those have a haven if they care to make their way to Stardock.
“And we may find recruits to our cause among those who study at Stardock for a time and leave, seeking something else.”
“How do we insure we don’t make the same mistakes?” asked Miranda.
“There are many things we will do differently; I will be the final authority here. I may seek your wisdom and that of others, but in critical matters I will decide. I erred in thinking that was ignoble and arbitrary at Stardock, and now I know it is the opposite. Without a vision, we become a debating society and a place where habit quickly becomes ‘tradition.’ Tradition often becomes an excuse for repression, bigotry, or reactionary thinking.”
“My Blue Riders will keep them from being too tradition-bound.”
“My friend,” said Pug, “your Blue Riders will become another tradition. And those who survive the fight of the those traditionalists who are now calling themselves ‘The Hand of Korsh’ and “The Wand of Watoom’ will become just as fixed in their ways. Even Korsh and Watoom would be appalled to see what their followers have created.”
“Maybe I should go back there,” offered Nakor, half in jest.
“Maybe not,” replied Pug. “Stardock will endure, and there will be times we will be grateful it does.”
Looking around the room, Pug said, “We here are embarking on a long fight. There are powers moving through the universe, vast terrible powers that we have only glimpsed. The two great wars we have so far endured are but the opening moves in a game of chess.”
Miranda said, “What are the Gods on our side doing about all this?”
Nakor said, “They are helping you.”
“How?” asked Miranda.
“In ways obvious and subtle,” said Nakor.
Pug said, “During the Chaos Wars, the very nature of things changed, and since then the Gods have acted through agents and minions. We are who we are because the gods have chosen us to be their agents.”
“Even Gods need to learn,” said Nakor. “Your father’s relationship with Sarig was not particularly effective, from the God’s point of view, so rather than repeat that mistake, he’s elected to try a different tactic.”
Miranda said, “There seems a great degree of futility in what we attempt.”
“Perhaps,” offered Nakor, “but we have seen wonderful things. The creation of the Temple of Arch-Indar is no mean feat. It will be a tiny, inconsequential sect for centuries, and most who encounter it will not think it equal in importance to the long-established worship of Astalon, Dala, Sung, and the other lesser Gods, but the fact that enough purity of the Goddess exists in the universe to serve us in balking Nalar’s attempts to again create havoc on our world is a miracle. There may not be another such manifestation for centuries, yet we know one may come.”
“What of you?” asked Pug. “What are your plans?”
“My work here is done, for a while,” said Nakor.
“Where will you go?” asked Miranda.
“Here and there … I will seek out Nalar’s minions and send you word should I encounter them. And every so often I will encounter likely candidates for your community and send them to you. And from time to time I will return to eat your food and drink your wine and see what’s new and interesting here.”
“You will always be welcome, Nakor.”
Miranda said, “Who do you serve, Nakor?”
Nakor grinned. “Myself. All of us. Everything.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps someday I will, but for now I am content to wander, learn things, and help out where I may.”
“Well,” said Pug, reaching for another cup of wine, “stay a while longer while I bring about the creation of my new council here, and give me the benefit of your wisdom.”
Nakor said, “If you think it wisdom, then you do need my advice.”
Miranda laughed.
Trumpets sounded and drums beat as the Prince and his fiancée departed the throne room. After six weeks of relative peace since Pug had ended the war, the crown judged it time to make the formal announcement. Patrick had just finished informing the court that he and Francine would depart at the end of the month to return to Rillanon for the royal wedding. The nobles and influential commoners in the room cheered and waited to disperse until Patrick escorted Francine out of the hall.
Jimmy approached Erik von Darkmoor and said, “Captain, I just wanted to tell you how impressed I am by what I read of your actions in Yabon.”
Erik shrugged. “After what Pug, Nakor, and the others did, we had little serious opposition.”
“Those forced marches, though, must have been punishing.”
“They were,” said Erik, “but mostly on our feet, since we had no horses. We had very little problem securing any area we entered, and once we freed prisoners in Ylith and Zun we had enough men to leave behind and act as jailers. By the time we reached LaMut, we were hunting bandits, nothing more. Now that General Nordan has agreed to lead those who want to leave – and a few who don’t – back to Novindus, and the rest are being sent down to serve with Duko, things are getting relatively quiet.”
Jimmy said, “Still, it was an impressive three weeks.”
“I just wish we had more ships,” said Erik. “This business of having to do business with the Quegans to get the invaders back across the sea has me feeling itchy each time I see a Quegan ship anchor off of Fishtown.”
“Blame your old friend,” said Jimmy, pointing at Roo, who stood with his wife talking to a minor noble.
“Roo always could smell an opportunity. I just wish I knew how he got the Quegans to make the deal. They’re usually impossible to deal with.”
Jimmy shrugged. “Probably just found something they really wanted and agreed to get it for them; that’s usually how you do business.”
“I’ll leave business to Roo. Being the Captain of the Crimson Eagles is enough for me.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t accept the promotion,” said Jimmy.
“I’m happy where I am. Being Captain of the Prince’s Household Guard is a lot more ceremony than real soldiering.”
“But it’s one step from there to being Swordmaster for a Duke or the Knight-Marshal’s position here in Krondor.”
Erik smiled. “I’m happy. I like running the Crimson Eagles, and I think the Kingdom needs an army independent of the other nobles. We might have had a different war had we had Kingdom garrisons in Sarth, Ylith, and Zun.”
“You may be right, but the Dukes will resist the idea of garrisons in their Duchies they don’t control.”
“I’ll think about that when I return to Krondor,” said Erik. “Right now I’m going to Ravensburg and to my wife. It’s been months and I wonder if she remembers what I look like.”
Jimmy said, “You’re not easy to forget, Captain. Few men come as large as you.”
Erik laughed and said, “What of you?”
“I am the King’s servant. I’ll return with Patrick to Rillanon and His Majesty will tell me where I serve next. I suspect I’ll be back in Krondor quickly enough. With Rudolfo dead and Brian unable to walk since the poisoning, we’ll need a new Duke in Krondor quickly. Duke Carl survived up in Yabon, but between those two Duchies we have enough work to keep a score of nobles occupied for a century.
“I’ll probably be given a title, and too few resources for too much work. That’s usually the way it works.”
Erik smiled and patted Jimmy on the shoulder. “Well do I know that, Jimmy.”
Roo and Karli joined them and were warmly greeted by both men. Erik said, “When the Keshians were marching across your estate, how did you avoid being captured like the others in your area?”
Roo laughed. “We were sleeping in an outbuilding while we’re rebuilding the estate house. When the cavalry showed up, they went inside the big house, and we snuck off into the woods. I have a tidy little cave set up to lie low in. I stocked it first thing after I returned. Too many armies running around here in the West for my taste.”
Erik said, “We’re trying to solve that problem, Roo.” Karli hid her smile behind her hand.
Roo said, “I haven’t seen your brother around, Jimmy.”
“Dash is off somewhere. With everyone heading off to the wedding, he’s being left behind in charge for a while.”
“I’m sure he’s distressed at missing the wedding,” said Karli.
Jimmy smiled. “Probably not as much as he is at the work to be done putting this city back together again.”
Roo said, “I know. Someone broke into the basement at Barret’s and took every scrap of food and all the coffee! How can I open a coffeehouse without coffee?”
“I guess you’ll have to buy more,” said Erik. He playfully squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “You always manage to find a way to make a deal, my friend.”
Roo smiled. “I have to work a little harder since Jimmy’s grandfather is no longer around, but then I’m getting to keep the money I make rather than pay taxes.”
Jimmy said, “I could speak to the Prince about that if you’d like.”
Roo put up his hands in mock surrender, “No, that’s fine. I’ll pick my own time to bring up the matter of the crown’s debt to the Bitter Sea Company. Let’s get the West back in order before we start that long and boring wrangle.”
Karli said, “There’s your brother, Jimmy. Who’s that he’s talking to?”
Jimmy turned and saw Dash entering the room deep in conversation with another man. “He’s a court functionary, named Talwin. I’m still a bit vague on what he does for Patrick, but I’ve seen him around over the last few years. He’s being named Castle Reeve while everyone else is going to Rillanon for the wedding. I’m sure he and Dash have a great deal to discuss.”
“You can’t have it both ways, Dash,” said Talwin. “You’re either taking care of your duty or you’re not.”
Dash looked at the head of Royal Intelligence and said, “Look, we’re going to be stuck together for over a month while the wedding is going on, so why don’t we agree to work together. You take care of the business of the Principality and the castle itself, and I’ll take care of the city.”
“Because you’re unreliable,” said Talwin.
Dash’s face flushed in anger. “Explain yourself.”
“Twice in the last week I know you have arranged to get minor offenders released without trial.”
“They were hungry people!” said Dash, raising his voice enough that a few lingering members of the court turned to look. Dash lowered his voice. “We’ve got enough trouble dealing with the prisoners we have. I’m not going to throw a child who stole bread into a cell with murderers.” Then he laughed. “And I’m damn well not going to toss him in with those damned Jikanji cannibals we inherited from Fadawah.”
Talwin laughed. “Very well, I’ll concede there may be some sense to your decisions. But since the fighting’s stopped, I’ve noticed that a great deal of street crime is returning to Krondor, and you’re far less vigilant than before.”
“I’m tired,” said Dash. Then he said, “Yes, that’s exactly it.” He smiled. “You just made me see something important. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For seeing something I’ve been ignoring for weeks.” He patted Talwin on the arm. “I’ll have my resignation on your desk tomorrow.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to be Sheriff of Krondor any longer,” said Dash. “Find someone else to do the job for you, Talwin.”
He turned and walked across the hall to where his brother stood with Erik, Roo, and Karli. After he exchanged greetings, he said, “Roo, I could use employment.”
Jimmy said “What?”
“I’ve resigned as Sheriff.”
“Why?” Jimmy persisted.
“We’ll talk about that later,” answered Dash. To Roo he said, “Could you use some help?”
“Someone of your talents, certainly,” said Roo. “But the last time I employed you, it ended up costing me a great deal of money.”
Dash grinned. “Well, then I was really working for my grandfather. This time I’d be working for myself.”
“Meaning?”
“I think I would rather seek my own fortune than continue to trade on my nobility and work for the crown. I think that with the Bitter Sea Company I can find a position from which I can someday start running my own business concerns.”
“We can certainly talk about it,” said Roo. “Come to Barret’s tomorrow and we’ll discuss the matter.” He took Karli’s arm. “Now, if you will excuse us, we need to be on our way home.”
They left and Erik promised to drop by on his way to Ravensberg. He turned to Dash and said, “Are you certain about this resignation? The King might insist you stay.”
“Not if I resign my offices,” said Dash.
Erik said, “I’ll leave you two alone to discuss this. I’m off to Ravensburg to see my wife and family.”
Jimmy grabbed his younger brother by the arm and steered him to a window, away from the others who lingered after court. “Are you mad? Resign your hereditary offices?”
“I may be mad, big brother, but I’m serious. I will have a resignation on Talwin’s desk in the morning for him to pass along to Patrick. Unless the King repeals the Great Freedom, no man can be compelled to hold office against his will. I don’t need a title. I can do fine living by my own wits.”
Jimmy looked appalled. “What about everything we’ve done? What about Grandfather and Father? Are their deaths for nothing?”
Dash grew angry. “Don’t throw those deaths in my face, Jimmy. They died for what they believed in, and my choosing to go another way doesn’t diminish their sacrifice. I am just tired of living their vision of what I should be. Who I should be.”
Jimmy said, “Why don’t you come to Rillanon with me? I’ll get Patrick to name another Sheriff in your place. We’ll go to the wedding, then we’ll take ship to Roldem and visit Mother. A week or two with her and you’ll be aching to get back to your criminals.”
Dash laughed. “No doubt. No, you go. Kiss Mother and Aunt Magda and the others for me. Tell Mother I’ll come to visit someday; I know she’ll never set foot on Kingdom soil again.”
“She might if I’m crowned King,” said Jimmy.
“Maybe for that,” agreed Dash, and they both laughed.
Jimmy put his arm around his younger brother’s shoulder. “Are you going to be all right?”
“Eventually,” said Dash. “Right now I just want to get started on a life of my making. I want to use my wits for something other than getting people killed.”
Remembering the wild charge at the Keshians’ rear elements, the fighting outside the wall before Pug appeared, Jimmy said, “I can’t see much wrong with that. It’s just …”
“What?”
“It’s just that we’re our father’s sons.”
“I know. This isn’t easy, but once I made up my mind, I knew it was the right thing. We have duties to each other that are more important than our duties to a flag or a king. Can you honestly say you can work on Patrick’s behalf without question?”
Jimmy said, “I would never work for Patrick the man; it’s the crown for which I labor.”
Dash lightly poked his brother’s chest. “And that, dear brother, is the difference between us. I saw common men and women die to protect this city, and what reward is there for them?”
“They get to keep their liberty!” said Jimmy. “You know what Keshian rule would bring to Krondor: slavery, press gangs, children being sold to brothels.”
“Are we so noble then?”
“We have problems, certainly, but we have just laws.”
Dash said, “I’ve been administering those laws for a while now, Jimmy. I’m not so sure sending a ten-year-old boy to the labor gang for stealing food is just.”
“That’s just an extreme case,” said Jimmy.
“I wish that were so.”
Jimmy said, “I have to go. We have been invited to dine with Francine and Patrick. Are you coming?”
“No,” said Dash. “I’ll send a note with my regrets. I have a lot of things to do before the morning if I’m going to turn my office over to someone else.”
Jimmy said, “I wish you’d at least wait until Patrick returns from Rillanon. Maybe by then you’ll have changed your mind. It’s not too late, you know.”
Dash was silent for a while, then he said, “If I do, that will give me more time to get my affairs in order. Very well, I’ll wait until the Prince and Princess return from Rillanon and then I’ll resign my offices.”
Jimmy grinned. “I’ll talk you out of it.”
“I’m still not coming to supper. I’ll see you in the morning before you leave.”
They embraced and Dash left the great hall, heading out the main entrance and through the courtyard, toward the New Market Jail.
In the darkest hours of the night, before the sky to the east began to lighten, a single man hid in the shadows near the docks. He kept looking back, as if fearing he was being followed, and at last he ducked into a doorway, waiting to see if anyone was behind him.
Long minutes passed then he stepped out of the door, only to be slammed back against it with a dagger held to his throat. “Going somewhere, Reese?”
The thief’s eyes widened. “Sheriff! I wasn’t on the dodge, honest. I was just heading back to my hole to sleep the day.”
“I need information, and you’re going to give it to me,” said Dash.
“Sure, whatever you want.”
“Who’s the new Daymaster now that Trina’s dead?”
“If I told you, it would be my life,” said Reese.
“If you don’t, it will be your life. I don’t mean hauling you to New Market for a trumped-up trial and a hanging, I mean cutting your throat right now.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Reese. “There isn’t one. There’s barely what you’d call the Mockers since the Upright Man and Trina died.”
“Who’s the Nightmaster?”
“He died during the war. There’s no leadership anymore. Even Mother’s ain’t safe no more. Someone’s setting up a new gang near Fishtown, for boosting goods unloaded off ships. And there’s some bashers setting themselves up down near the old docks. Times ain’t what they used to be, Dash.”
“Tell me where to find the gangs in Fishtown and down by the docks.”
Reese told him what he knew, then Dash said, “Here’s what you need to know. Things are changing in Krondor and we’re going to be the ones making the changes.”
“We?” asked Reese.
“You and me.”
“I get caught working for the Sheriff, I’m a dead man,” said Reese.
“Oh, before we’re done, you’ll wish it was that simple. You’re a bright one, Reese – you were smart enough to hook up with Talwin and me and get out of the work gang.”
“Well, I saw my chance and I took it.”
“Who’s another really smart lad or lass, someone who works well with the children?”
“Jenny’s got a level head and the beggars and pickpockets like her.”
“Good. I want you and Jenny to meet me by the old landing below the north wall reservoir, an hour after sundown tomorrow.” He let go of the man’s shirt and put away his dagger.
“What if I just don’t turn up?”
“Then I’ll find you and kill you,” said Dash. “An hour after sundown. Just the two of you.”
Reese said, “I’ll bring her.” He ran off into the dark.
Dash looked around to make sure he was unobserved, then went the other way.
Jimmy rose to depart, and Francine said, “Jimmy, may I have a word with you?”
Jimmy smiled. “Anytime, Francie.”
She came over and said, “If we still had a garden here, perhaps we could go for a walk.”
“A turn around the marshaling yard?”
She laughed. “That will have to do.”
She turned to her father and Patrick, and said, “We won’t be long.” They went down the long corridor from the Prince’s great hall to the balcony overlooking the marshaling yard. The evening air was warm and the air held a hint of blooms.
“When we return, I shall see the garden is restored as soon as possible.”
Jimmy said, “That will be nice.”
“Are you returning to Krondor in time for Midsummer’s Festival?” Francie asked.
“Probably not. I shall sail to Roldem to visit Mother. With Father dead, she’ll never return to the Kingdom.”
Francine sighed. “They never grew to love one another?”
Jimmy shook his head. “I think at best they enjoyed things about one another. She admired Father’s skills as a diplomat; Roldem’s a nation of courtiers. He was a very fine dancer, did you know?”
“I remember seeing him at a celebration in the King’s court. He cut a very dashing figure. I had a crush on him as a child.”
“He was a very fine father,” said Jimmy, suddenly missing him a great deal. “He always liked Mother’s ability to organize. If there was one guest for dinner or a hundred, she always had everything right by the time the event began. He used to joke that she’d have made a better Duke than he.”
“But they never grew close?”
“No,” said Jimmy sadly. “I know Mother had lovers, though she was always very discreet about it. I don’t know about Father. He always seemed so occupied with whatever Grandfather set him to. He probably was too busy to really care.”
“He cared about you and Dash.”
Jimmy nodded. “I know he did. He was always generous in his affections with us.”
She put her hand on his arm. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Jimmy. I like Patrick well enough; the three of us have always been friends. I used to think I was going to marry you, back when we were children.”
He smiled. “I know. I used to find it irritating, then I found it pleasing.”
She leaned over and kissed him, lightly but lingeringly. Then she said, “Be my dear friend. I don’t know if I’ll become like your mother and ignore Patrick, or if I’ll turn my life over to raising a future King of Isles. I may take up gardening, and if I decide to have a string of lovers, I’ll make you the first one, but most of all, I’m going to need good friends.
“Everyone I know is now trying to be my friend, and I know that what they see is the future Queen of the Isles. You and Dash and a few of our good friends back in Rillanon are all I have.”
Jimmy nodded. “I understand, Francie. I’ll always be your good friend.”
She took his arm in hers and snuggled into his shoulder. “Thank you, Jimmy. Now, let’s go back and rejoin the Prince.”
Jimmy knew at that point that he also would eventually marry for reasons of state. He said a silent prayer to any God who would listen that the woman fate had in store for him was the match of the one holding onto his arm at this moment. And prayed she would also prove as good a friend as Francine.
Two nights later thieves drifted into Mother’s. Many looked around for boltholes, for by general consensus Mother’s wasn’t safe anymore. Still, a few lookouts hung outside, keeping an eye out for the Prince’s men.
Reese stood up on a table and said, “Is everyone here?”
From the back of the room, someone shouted, “Everyone who’s coming!”
That brought some guarded chuckles from a few, but no one felt easy enough to really enjoy the weak humor.
Reese said, “We’ve got new rules.”
“Rules!” shouted a large man in a corner. “Whose rules?”
“Mockers’ Rules!” shouted a young woman entering from a far door. She was solidly built, and plain of features, but she was known for being one of the smarter thieves in the guild. Her name was Jenny.
“Who says there’s a Mockers to make rules for?” asked another man.
“The Upright Man!” shouted Reese. “He says.”
“The Upright Man’s dead!” said a man from the back of the large room. “Everyone knows that.”
From deep within the shadows behind Reese, a deep voice said, “The Upright Man’s died before, and always returns.”
“Who’s that?” said the beefy man in the corner.
“One who knows you, John Tuppin. You run the bashers.”
The man looked pale at the dark figure knowing his name.
A thin man in the rear said, “Everyone knows Tuppins. He’s too big to miss!”
Others laughed, but a few glanced around, worried expressions on their faces.
From the shadows the voice said, “I know you, too, Rat. You’re the best point lookout in the Mockers. I know you all.
“I know every thief, cutpurse, dodger and basher, every toffsman and whore who calls Mother’s home. And you know me.”
“It’s the Upright Man,” whispered someone.
“You can claim to be whoever you want,” said John Tuppin, “but claiming and being ain’t the same. I could claim to be the Bloody Duke of Krondor, but that don’t make it so.”
From out of the shadows the voice said, “The Fishtown gang was run today.”
Suddenly people throughout the room were talking. Reese picked up a large wooden club and slammed it against the wall. “Shut up!”
Silence fell, and the voice from the darkness said, “Tomorrow the Sheriff will run the Old Dock bashers. No one works the streets of Krondor without my permission.”
“If those bashers get run tomorrow,” said Tuppin, “I’ll believe you’re who you say you are.”
“I will too,” shouted the man called Rat.
“Pass the word,” said the voice. “The Keshian renegades who sell drugs out of the caravansary will be run. The swine who grab kids to sell to the Durban slavers will be run. Anyone not doing business with the Mockers will be run.”
A few in the room cheered.
“Reese is Nightmaster, and Jenny is Daymaster. You have a problem, you bring it to them.”
More cheers, then Reese said, “Get out there! Pass the word, the Upright Man is back!”
The thieves dispersed until only three people remained at Mothers.
Dash stepped out of the shadows. “You did well. Tell Tuppin and Rat they did well, too.”
“It’s a hard sell,” said Reese. “You’re going to have to bust a lot of heads before they get it.”
“I’ve a couple of months before the Prince returns and installs a new Sheriff,” said Dash. “Between now and then we’ll get organized.”
The girl said, “I don’t get one thing. Why are you taking on this job? You’re the son of the Duke of Krondor! You’re never going to be as rich on the dodgy path as you could be on the straight. If we get caught, we do time in prison, or the work gang. If you get caught, you get hung for treason. Why are you doing this?”
Dash said, “A promise.” Jenny seemed about to ask another question, but Dash cut her off. “You have a lot of work to do and so do I. You need to get someone into the palace and close to Talwin. You need to get him followed, and that won’t be easy. We have to find his contacts and identify his agents. He’s going to be the worst threat to the Mockers we’ll face.”
“I have just the girl,” said Jenny. “Young, innocent looking, can wash and sew, and will cut your heart out for a copper piece.”
“I’ve got a man I can get into the kitchen,” said Reese.
“I’ll get them inside,” said Dash. “Now, go.”
They left and Dash ducked out the back way. He waited, and when he was satisfied no one had seen him depart the thieves’ headquarters, he knew that his life would never be truly his own.
He knew he’d earn riches as a merchant, and marry some well-thought-of young woman, one whom he would probably love, and father children. It would be, to outward appearances, a good life. Publicly he would be a man of importance, one worthy of envy. But he also knew he would live in two worlds, and that most of his life would not be his own.
More than his duty to the crown, given to him at birth without his consent by his father and grandfather, this duty to a ragged bunch of thieves and thugs was far more binding upon him, for it was a duty he elected, one chosen as a matter of honor, and he knew he would never fail in that duty short of death.
Dash set out through the sewers that would be a second home to him for the rest of his life.