“What!” said Arutha.
“A rumor, nothing more.”
Amos spoke quietly and quickly. “Before finding Martin, I was
nosing around a local joy house, not too far from the garrison
barracks. I overheard some soldiers at their ease saying they were to
leave at first light for a campaign. When the object of one soldier’s
momentary ardor asked when she would see him again, he said, ‘As
long as it takes to march to the vale and back, should luck be with
us,’ at which point he invoked Ruthia’s name, so that the
Lady of Luck would not view his discussion of her province
disfavorably.”
“The vale?” said Arutha.
“That can only mean a campaign down into the Vale of Dreams.
Kesh must have hit the garrison at Shamata with an expeditionary
force of dog-soldiers. Guy’s no fool. He’ll know the only
answer’s a quick, unhesitating strike from Krondor, to show
Great Kesh’s Empress we can still defend our borders. Once the
dog soldiers have been driven south of the vale, we’ll have
another round of useless treaty talks over who has the right to it.
That means even should Guy wish to aid Crydee, which I doubt, he
could not. There’s no time to deal with Kesh, return, and reach
Crydee by spring, or even early summer.” Arutha swore. “This
is bitter news, Amos.”
“There is still more. Earlier
today I took the trouble to visit the ship, just to ensure Vasco had
everything in hand, and that the men weren’t chafing too much
at being kept aboard. Our ship is being watched.”
“Are you sure?”
“Certain. There’s a couple
of boys who stand around, playing at net mending, but they do no real
work. They watched closely as I rowed out and back.”
“Who do you think they are?”
“I can’t begin to guess.
They could be Guy’s men, or men still loyal to Erland. They
could be agents of Great Kesh, smugglers, even Mockers.”
“Mockers?” asked Martin.
“The Guild of Thieves,”
said Arutha. “Little goes on in Krondor without notice by their
leader, the Upright Man.”
Amos said, “That mysterious
personage runs the Mockers with tighter control than a captain has
over his crew. There are places in the city where even the Prince
cannot reach, but no place in Krondor is beyond the Upright Man. If
he’s taken an interest in us, for whatever reason, we have much
to fear.”
The conversation was interrupted by the
serving boy’s return. He set down a chilled pewter pitcher of
wine and three cups. Amos said, “Fetch yourself to the nearest
incense vendor, boy. This place stinks. Buy something sweet to toss
upon the fire.”
The boy regarded them a little warily,
then shrugged as Amos tossed him another coin. He ran from the room,
and Amos said, “He’ll be back soon, and I’ve run
out of reasons to send him away. In any event this place will soon be
thick with merchants taking an afternoon steam.
“When the boy comes back, sip
some wine, try to relax, and don’t leave too soon. Now, in all
this bleak mess, there is one small glimmer of light.”
“Then I would hear what it is,”
said Arutha.
“Guy will soon be gone from the
city.”
Arutha’s eyes narrowed. “Still,
his men will be left in charge. But what you say does have some
aspect of comfort. There are few in Krondor likely to mark me by
sight, for it’s nearly nine years since I was last here, and
most of those have likely disappeared with the Prince. Also, there is
a plan I’ve been considering. With Guy out of Krondor, I would
have an even better chance of success.”
“What plan?” asked Amos.
“I’ll tell you when I’ve
had more time to dwell upon it. Where could we safely meet?”
Amos considered. “Brothels, drug
houses, and gambling halls are all as bad as inns. Either the Mockers
control them and note everyone coming and going, or there are others
about looking for information to sell. If someone overheard you
speaking the wrong phrase, the Mockers or the city guards could be
down on you in minutes.” He was quiet for a moment. Then he
smiled. “I have the very place! When the town watch rings the
hour bell, two hours after sunset, meet me at the east end of Temple
Square.”
The boy returned and tossed a small
bundle of incense upon the fire, cutting off conversation. Arutha
settled back and drank the chilled wine, rapidly warming in the heat
of the steam room. He closed his eyes, but was not relaxing, as he
considered the situation. After a while he began to feel his plan
might work if he could reach Dulanic. Running out of patience, he was
the first to rise, rinse off, dress, and leave.
Arutha waited as Martin and Amos
approached from different parts of the city, crossing Temple Square.
On all sides the temples of the greater and lesser gods rose up.
Several were busy with pilgrims and worshipers entering and leaving,
while others were nearly deserted.
Reaching the Prince, Amos said, “How
fared you this afternoon?”
Arutha spoke softly. “I occupied
my time in a tavern, keeping to myself. I did overhear some
conversation about Erland, but when I tried to get closer, the
speakers moved off. Otherwise I considered the plan I spoke of.”
Martin glanced about, then said, “An
ill-omened place you picked, Amos. Gathered at this end of the square
are all the gods and goddesses of darkness and chaos.”
Amos shrugged. “Which means few
travelers nearby after night fall. And a clear view of anyone
approaching.” To Arutha he said, “Now, what is this
plan?”
Quietly and quickly, Arutha said, “I
noticed two things this morning: Erland’s personal guards still
patrol the palace grounds, so there must be limits to Guy’s
control. Second, several of Erland’s courtiers entered and left
freely enough, so some large portion of the daily business of
governing the Western Realm must remain unchanged.”
Amos stroked his chin, thinking “That
would seem logical Guy brought his army with him, not his
administrators. They’re still back running Bas-Tyra.”
“Which means Lord Dulanic and
others not entirely sympathetic to Guy might still be able to aid us.
If Dulanic will help, I can still succeed with my mission.”
“How?” asked Amos.
“As Erland’s
Knight-Marshal, Dulanic has control of vassal garrisons to Krondor.
Upon his signature alone he could call up the garrisons at Durrony’s
Vale and Malac’s Cross. If he ordered them to march to Sarth,
they could join the garrison there and take ship for Crydee. It would
be a hard march, but we could still bring them to Crydee by spring.”
“And no hardship to your father,
either. I was going to tell you: I have heard Guy has sent soldiers
from the Krondonan garrison to your father.”
Arutha said, “That seems strange.
I can’t imagine Guy wishing to aid Father.”
Amos shook his head. “Not so
strange. To your father it will seem as if Guy has been sent by the
King only to aid Erland, for I suspect the rumors of Erland’s
being a prisoner in his own palace are not as yet widespread. Also,
it is a fine pretext to rid the city of officers and men loyal to the
Prince.
“Still, it is no small boon to
your father. From all accounts nearly four thousand men have left or
are leaving for the north. That might be enough to deal with the
Tsurani should they come against the Duke.”
Martin said, “But should they
come against Crydee?”
“For that we must seek aid. We
must get inside the palace and find Dulanic.”
“How?” Amos asked.
“It was my hope you might have a
suggestion.”
Amos looked down, then said, “Is
there anyone in the palace you know to be trustworthy?”
“Before, I could have named a
dozen, but this business makes me doubt everyone. Who stands with the
Viceroy and who with the Prince I can’t begin to guess.”
“Then we’ll have to nose
about some more. And we’ll have to listen for news of likely
ships for transport. Once we’ve hired a few, we’ll slip
them out of Krondor one or two at a time, every few days. We’ll
need at least a score to carry the men of three garrisons. Assuming
you get Dulanic’s support, which brings us back to gaining
entrance to the palace.” Amos swore softly. “Are you sure
you wouldn’t care to chuck this business and become a
privateer?” Arutha’s expression clearly showed he was
unamused. Amos sighed. “I thought not.”
Arutha said, “You seem to know
the underside of the city well, Amos. Use your experience to find us
a way into the palace, even if through the sewer. I’ll keep my
eyes open for any of Erland’s men who might wander through the
great square. Martin, you’ll have to simply keep your ears
open.”
With a long sigh of resignation, Amos
said, “Getting into the palace is a risky plan, and I don’t
mind telling you I don’t care for the odds.” He hiked his
thumb at a nearby temple. “I may even bounce into Ruthia’s
temple and ask the Lady of Luck to smile upon us.”
Arutha dug a gold coin from his purse
and tossed it to Amos. “Say a prayer to the Lady for me as well
I’ll see you back at the tavern later.”
Arutha strode off into the gloom, and
Amos inclined his head toward the temple of the Goddess of Luck.
“Care to make a votive offering, Martin?”
The night’s silence was ruptured
by trumpets calling men to arms Arutha was the first to the window,
thrusting aside the wooden shutters and peering through. With most of
the city asleep, there were few lights to mask the glow in the east.
Amos reached Arutha’s side, Martin a step behind.
Martin said, “Campfires, hundreds
of them.” The Huntmaster glanced heavenward, marking the stars’
positions in the clear sky, and said, “Two hours to dawn.”
“Guy’s readying his army
for the march,” said Arutha quietly.
Amos leaned far out the window. By
craning his neck, he could catch a glimpse of the harbor. In the
distance men were calling aboard ships “Sounds like they’re
readying ships as well.”
Arutha leaned with both hands upon the
table by the window. “Guy will send his foot soldiers by ship
down the coast, into the Sea of Dreams, to Shamata, while his cavalry
rides to the south. His foot will reach the city fresh enough to help
bolster the defense, and when his horses arrive, they aren’t
sick from traveling by ship. And they’ll arrive within days of
one another.”
As if to prove his words, from the east
came the sounds of marching men. Then a few minutes later the first
company of Bas-Tyra’s foot soldiers came into view. Arutha and
his companions watched them march past the open gate of the inn’s
courtyard. Lanterns gave the soldiers a strange, otherworld
appearance as they marched in columns down the street. They stepped
in cadence, their golden-eagle banners snapping above their heads
Martin said, “They are well-schooled troops.”
Arutha said, “Guy is many things,
most of them unpleasant, but one thing cannot be argued: he is the
finest general in the Kingdom. Even Father is forced to admit that,
though he’ll say nothing else good about the man. Were I the
King, I would send the Armies of the East under his command to fight
the Tsurani. Three times Guy has marched against Kesh, and three
times he has thrashed them. If the Keshians do not know he’s
come west, the very sight of his banner in the field may drive them
to the peace table, for they fear and respect him.” Arutha’s
voice became thoughtful in tone. “There is one thing. When Guy
first came to be Duke of Bas-Tyra, he suffered some sort of personal
dishonor—Father never told what that shame was—and took
to wearing only black as a badge of sorts, earning him the name Black
Guy. That type of thing takes a strange brand of personal courage.
Whatever else can be said of Black Guy du Bas-Tyra, none will call
him craven.”
While the soldiers continued to pass
below, Arutha and his companions watched in silence. Then, with the
sun rising in the east, the last soldiers disappeared along the
streets to the harbour.
The morning after Guy’s army had
marched, it was announced the city was sealed, the gates closed to
all travelers and the harbor blockaded. Arutha judged it a normal
practice, to prevent Keshian agents from leaving the city by fast
sloop or fast horse to carry word of Guy’s march. Amos used a
visit to the Wind of Dawn to view the harbor blockade and discovered
it was a light one, for Guy had ordered most of the fleet to stand
off the coast at sea ambush, watching for any Keshian flotillas
should Kesh learn the city was stripped of her garrison. The city was
now policed by city guards in Guy’s livery, as the last
Krondorian soldiers departed for the north Rumor had it Guy would
also send the garrison at Shamata to the front once the fighting with
Kesh had been settled, leaving every garrison in the Principality
manned by soldiers loyal to Bas-Tyra.
Arutha spent most of his time in
taverns, places of business, and the open markets most likely to be
frequented by those from the palace. Amos prowled near the docks or
in the city’s seedier sections, especially the infamous Poor
Quarter, and began making discreet inquiries about the availability
of ships. Martin used his guise as a simple woodsman to blunder into
any place that looked promising.
Nearly a week went by this way, with
little new information being unearthed. Then, late the sixth day
after Guy had quit the city, Arutha found himself being hailed in the
middle of the busy square by Martin.
“Arthur!” shouted the
hunter as he ran up to Arutha. “Best come quickly.” He
set off toward the waterfront and the Sailor’s Ease.
Back at the inn they found Amos already
in the room, resting upon his pallet before his nightly sojourn into
the Poor Quarter. Once the door was closed, Martin said, “I
think they may know Arutha’s in Krondor.”
Amos bolted upright as Arutha said,
“What? How . . . ?”
“I wandered into a tavern near
the barracks, just before the midday meal. With the army gone from
the city, there was little business. One man did enter, just as I was
readying to leave. A scribe with the city’s Quartermaster, he
was fit to burst with a rumor and in need of someone to tell it to.
So, with the aid of some wine, I obliged him by playing the simple
woodsy, and by showing respect for so important a personage.