Rise of a Merchant Prince (43 page)

“But my threat wasn't hollow; I want you to understand something, and that is, no matter how powerful you become, you are no more above the law than you were when you and Erik killed Stefan von Darkmoor.”

Roo said nothing.

“I'll not attempt to impound your gold, Rupert. Pay off your creditors and continue to prosper, but always remember that you can be put away as quickly now as you were when we first tossed you into the death cell.”

Roo said, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are not done with our service,
young Avery.” James stood and paced as he said, “Reports from across the sea are worse than we thought they'd be; far worse. Your friend Erik may already be dead for all we know. Everyone who went with Calis may be.” He stopped his pacing and looked at Roo. “But even if they reach those goals they set out to achieve, this much you can bank on: the host of the Emerald Queen is coming, and you know almost as well as I that if she lands on these shores, your hard-won riches mean nothing. You and your wife and children will be nothing more than objects to sweep aside as she marches toward
her
goal: the destruction of every living thing on this world.”

Roo said, “What do you want me to do?”

“Do?” said James. “Why do you think I want you to do anything?”

“Because we wouldn't be having this meal if you were only trying to remind me either of your ability to hang me on a whim or about the terrible things I saw when serving with Calis.” Roo's voice rose in anger as he said, “I bloody well know both those facts!” He slammed his fist on the table, causing dishes to jump and clatter. Then he added, “M'lord.”

“I'll tell you what I want,” said Lord James. He leaned over, hands on the back of one chair and the table, and put his face before Roo's, eye to eye. “I need gold.”

Roo blinked. “Gold?”

“More gold than even a greedly little bastard like you can imagine, Rupert.” He stood up. “We've the biggest war in the history of this world about to be unleashed on these shores.” He walked to a window that overlooked the harbor and made a sweeping
motion with his hand. “Unless someone with a great deal more power and intelligence than are possessed by every ruling lord in this Kingdom comes up with an unexpected solution, we will see the biggest fleet in history come sailing into that harbor in less than three years' time. And on that fleet will be the biggest army ever seen.”

He turned to look at Roo. “And everything you see from this window will be ashes. That includes your house, your business, Barret's Coffee House, your docks, your warehouses, your ships, your wife, your children, your mistress.”

At the last, Roo felt his throat almost close. He thought no one knew about his relationship with Sylvia. James spoke calmly, but his manner betrayed a tightly controlled anger. “You will never understand the love I feel for this city, Rupert.” He motioned around the hall. “You will never understand why I hold this palace dear above all other places on this world. A very special man saw something in me that no one else would ever have seen, and he put out his hand and elevated me to a station that no one of my birth could ever have imagined.” Roo saw a slight sheen of moisture in Lord James's eyes. “I gave my own son that man's name, to honor him.” The Duke turned his back to Roo, to look out the window again. “And you have no idea how much I wish we could have that man with us here, now. Of all men, he would be the one I would wish to tell us what to do next as this terrible day approaches.”

Taking a deep breath, the old Duke composed himself. “But he is not here. He is dead, and he would be the first to tell me that dreaming of things that cannot be is a waste of time.” He looked again
into Roo's eyes. “And time is something we have far less of than we had thought. I said that fleet would be here in less than three years. It may be here in less than two. I won't know until a ship from Novindus appears.”

Roo said, “Two, three years?”

“Yes,” said James. “This is why I need gold. I need to finance the biggest war in the history of the Kingdom, a war that dwarfs any we've fought. We have a standing army of fewer than five thousand men in the Principality. When we raise the banners of the Kingdom, both Eastern and Western Realms, we can put perhaps forty thousand men in the field, trained veterans and levies. How many men does the Emerald Queen bring against us?”

Roo sat back, remembering just those forces at the mercenaries' rendezvous. “Two hundred, two hundred fifty thousand if she can get them all across the sea.”

James said, “She has six hundred ships as of our last report. She is producing two new ships a week. She's destroying the entire continent to keep production that high, but she's got her heel on the throat of the entire population down there and the work continues.”

Roo calculated. “Fifty weeks, minimum. She needs at least one hundred more ships to carry provisions for that many men. If she's prudent, she'll build for another one hundred weeks.”

“Have you seen anything to indicate prudence?”

“No,” said Roo, “but on the other hand even someone willing to kill every man in her service must have some idea of what she needs to accomplish her goals.”

James nodded. “Two or three years from now, they will be in that harbor.”

Roo said, “What part do I play?”

James said, “I could tax you until you bleed to finance this war, but even if I sent out the army to grab every coin from the Teeth of the World to Kesh, from the Sunset Islands to Roldem, it wouldn't be enough.” James again leaned over and spoke softly, as if he feared someone might be listening. “But in that two or three years, with the proper help, you might be able to finance that war.”

Roo looked as if he didn't understand. “M'lord?”

James said, “You need to make enough profit in the next two years so that you can loan the Crown what we're going to need to finance this coming war.”

Roo let out a long breath. “Well, that's unexpected. You want me to get rich beyond dreaming, so I can lend it to the Crown, to fight a war that we may not win.”

James said, “Essentially.”

“From what you said, I suspect the Crown may not be in a position to repay me in a timely fashion if we survive this coming ordeal.”

James said, “Consider the alternatives.”

Roo nodded. “There is that.” He rose. “Well, if I'm to become the richest man sitting atop the ash heap in three years, I'd better set about gathering more wealth. To do that, I need to pay off my creditors by sundown.”

“There is one other thing,” said James.

“What, m'lord?”

“The matter with the Jacobys. There is the father.”

“Do I need fear more attacks?”

“Possibly,” said James. “The judicious thing to do would be go see him at once, before he learns that you killed his sons. Forge a peace, Rupert, because you need allies, not enemies, for the coming years, and I cannot help you in all things; even my reach has limits.”

Roo said, “After I settle with Frederick Jacoby, I'll need to tell all this to my partners.”

“I suggest you buy them out,” said James. “Or at least gain control of the Bitter Sea Trading and Holding Company.” Then James grinned, and Roo could see both a reflection of the boy thief who had once run the streets of Krondor and the echo of his grandsons in his face. “You were planning on that eventually, anyway, weren't you?”

Roo laughed. “Eventually.”

“Better sooner than later. If you need a small amount of gold to accomplish that, the Crown can lend it to you; we're certainly going to take that back and a great deal more besides.”

Roo said he would let the Duke know, and he departed. As he left the palace he considered how his fate was once again linked to that of the Crown, and how no matter how he tried, he could not free himself of the fate dictated for him the moment he and Erik had killed Stefan.

As he reached the gate, he realized he had neither horse nor carriage waiting for him. Then he decided the walk to the office would help set his mind to what he would need to say to Frederick Jacoby when he told him his sons were dead.

Erik directed the scouts to check the gallery
ahead. They had been hearing faint sounds for nearly ten minutes, but the origin of them was unclear. There were side passages and galleries in profusion, and noises echoed in strange and disorienting fashion.

A few minutes later they returned. “It's filled with lizards,” whispered one of the scouts. Erik signaled the man to follow him to where Calis and the others waited and the man quickly diagramed how the gallery was laid out.

It was an almost perfect half circle, with a long ramp down from the entrance, running to the right, and a flat ridge running to the left. The swordsmen would charge down the ramp, while the archers would follow, deploying to the left, to rain arrows down upon the serpents.

Calis gave orders, and Erik and de Loungville relayed them. Erik heard Calis tell Boldar to stay with Miranda and guard her, then Calis was moving past, insisting on taking the lead personally.

As was the case before, each man did exactly as he was bidden to do, without hesitation or confusion, but once into the gallery, the battle was joined. And as Erik had learned firsthand, and had read in every book William had given him to read, once the battle was joined, plans were so much chaff on the wind.

These Pantathians were full-sized adults, half again as big as those young warriors they had fought earlier in the day. The tallest measured just short of Erik's chin, and their best warrior was no match for Calis's meanest, but they had numbers on their side.

Two hundred or more had gathered in the gallery, and Erik noted in passing that some showed recent wounds. But he hadn't time to dwell on where else
the Pantathians were battling. He assumed it was with that third player Calis referred to.

Every man in the company knew that surprise only gained them a slight advantage, and that they must quickly press that advantage, killing as many Pantathians as possible. Orders were passed on the other side of the hall, the hissing language of the serpent priests impossible to understand. Erik laid about him with as much efficiency as he could muster; in the first two minutes of battle, a snake man died for each blow he delivered.

Then the defense got organized and began to push the attackers back. Just as the tide of battle seemed to tip, the twenty bowmen took up position on the ridge overlooking the gallery and began to rain arrows down upon the Pantathians.

Erik shouted, “Advance!” and waded into the dying foe-men, and could hear others repeat his order. As before, the Pantathians refused to yield and stood their ground, dying either by arrow or by sword blow.

Then it was silent.

Erik glanced around and could see twitching bodies all around. A few were his own men, but most were greenskinned. He glanced around, taking mental inventory, then after looking twice, turned to find de Loungville, gasping for breath, standing a short distance away. “We have seven down, Sergeant Major.”

De Loungville nodded. Erik directed others to get the wounded and move them back up to the ridge where the archers waited. Erik then joined de Loungville, Calis, and Miranda in inspecting the hall. Scouts were sent into nearby galleries, barely
visible in the light.

The air was humid and hot. Breathing was difficult. A crack in the floor along the far wall bled steam in a steady flow. Several of the Pantathians were still alive, and Calis's men quickly executed them. The orders had been defined: if it was a Pantathian, kill it. No serpent man, woman, or child was to be spared. Erik had felt little concern for the order, but the men had discussed it.

After a battle in which comrades had fallen, carrying out the orders was easy enough. Then a scout called out, “Sergeant! Over here!”

Erik turned and trotted over. “What is it?”

“Look, sir.”

Erik looked at a gallery and saw a bubbling pool of hot water in the center of the room. It had obviously been hollowed out by the serpent priests, as the marks of tools were visible in the rocks. More than a dozen large eggs were arrayed around the pool, close enough to incubate, but not so close as to cook the young.

One of the eggs was moving.

Erik approached the egg as a fracture appeared along one side, and then with a loud crack, it split. The tiny body that tumbled out was little larger than a dog. It blinked as if confused and cried in a sound that was eerily like that of a human baby.

Erik raised his sword and hesitated as the tiny creature made its inquisitive crying sounds. Then the baby Pantathian turned its gaze upon Erik.

The baby's eyes narrowed, and Erik saw hatred in those newborn orbs. With animosity bordering on rage, the tiny creature hissed and hurled itself at Erik.

Reflexively Erik brought his blade down, severing the tiny creature's head from its shoulders.

Erik felt his gorge rise, and swallowing hard, shouted, “Break them!”

The scout joined him and they smashed the remaining eggs. Tiny bodies spilled from the eggs and Erik found himself wishing he could have been anywhere else. The stench that quickly rose from the creatures was noxious beyond anything he had endured.

Leaving the chamber after the grisly work was over, Erik saw others repeating his actions in other galleries close by. More than one man left the galleries retching at what they had seen.

After a few minutes, Miranda said, “There is something. . ..”

“What?” said Calis.

“I don't know . . . but it's close.”

Calis stood motionless, then said, “I think I know what it is.” He moved to a tunnel leading downward. “This way.”

De Loungville said, “Two dead, five wounded, only one too badly to keep up.”

Only the briefest flickering of the muscles along Calis's jaw betrayed his pain at hearing that report. Calis was starting toward the ramp leading to where the wounded were being cared for when de Loungville said, “I'll ask him.”