Читать книгу The Chaoswar Saga: A Kingdom Besieged, A Crown Imperilled, Magician’s End - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 24

HAL THREW A KNIFE ACROSS THE ROOM.

Ty watched with amusement as the blade struck the wall and fell to the floor. ‘If you want it to stick, use a meat knife. The bread knives have dull tips.’

Hal pushed himself away from the midday meal he had been served. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said as he crossed the private dining room upstairs at the River House in Roldem. He picked up the knife and carried it to the table then wiped it with a serving cloth. ‘I’m grateful for your father’s hospitality and your company. The food is wonderful.’ He sighed as he sat down. ‘I can barely fasten my trousers from eating. And the wine! I’ve never had its like in Crydee. But I’m growing mad with boredom.’

The university had all but closed down as students from Kesh, the Kingdom of the Isles and the Eastern Kingdoms had all hurried home on the first available ships when word of Kesh’s fleet sailing north had arrived. Following Swordmaster Phillip’s and Lord James’s advice, Hal had entrusted himself to the care of Ty Hawkins and his father Talwin.

Hal pointed his knife at Ty. ‘You know, I wager I’ve read more books here than I would have had I remained at the university. And it’s a bit of a relief not to have to listen to every droning lecture, though a few of them were interesting. But I need to get outside. I need to hunt, ride a horse, chase down a stag or bear. Go fishing! Take a walk! Anything!’

‘We could practise if you’d like,’ offered Ty.

Half-laughing, Hal shouted, ‘No! I’m tired of almost beating you.’

‘You are getting better,’ grinned Ty. ‘By the next Masters’ Court you will probably be able to beat me. You are a bit faster.’

‘No,’ said Hal, falling back into his chair chuckling. ‘I’m sorry, Ty. I’m just going mad here.’

‘Until we receive word from Lord James or your ambassador that it’s safe for you to travel. . .’ He shrugged. ‘Like it or not you are related to the King of the Isles. That makes you important.’

‘Barely related,’ said Hal, sipping at a light white wine that had been served with the mid-day meal: a lightly-basted roast chicken with steamed vegetables. Before coming to live for the last month at the River House, Hal could not believe such simple fare could be made so delicious by the mere addition of a little savoury oil and some herbs. Letting out another aggravated sound, Hal said, ‘If I ever find a way to steal your cook from you, I will.’

‘You’d get fat,’ said Ty with a laugh. He put his feet up on the table and drank his wine. ‘Francisco is Lucien’s best student – Lucien’s father’s chef in Olasko. I don’t think he’d leave Roldem for a rustic destination like Crydee—’ he held up his hand as Hal began to protest, ‘—as charming as it may be in its own way. Francisco enjoys the abundance of high living in Roldem, which I believe you will concede is the most civilized city in the world.’

Hal nodded. He was not a world traveller by any measure, having never been east of Yabon until his father decided to place him at the university here. He had stopped for a polite visit with Prince Edward in Krondor where they had spent a tedious dinner during which when one spoke the other nodded, because they had nothing in common. The Prince of Krondor had been eager to spread gossip about matters at court in the East, about people of whom Hal had never even heard, and Hal’s topics of hunting, warcraft against goblins and trolls and managing estates all seemed lost on the Prince.

After that it had been an overnight stay in Malac’s Cross, then on to Salador where he had endured two nights of being hosted by a very distant cousin, Duke Louis, then a mandatory visit to the King to pay his fealty in Rillanon.

He had been impressed with both Rillanon and the King’s court. King Gregory had been welcoming and seemed a bright enough man. It was hard to tell, given the amount of deference shown the man at every turn. Even the Prince of Krondor’s court was less formal and Hal’s father’s court was casual by comparison. Everyone bowed when the King entered or left the room. One could not sit in his presence unless he sat first, and one could not speak to His Majesty unless spoken to. The sense of impending doom over a social miscue reduced Hal to reticence bordering on constant silence while he was there.

By the time he reached Roldem he had no idea what to expect, but he quickly embraced the rough and tumble of student life. The one reception with the King and two of his sons, Constantine and Albér, had proven surprisingly relaxed. The King was a happy, welcoming man, and it was obvious he had been blessed with a family he adored, a family who adored him in return.

Then Hal had been thrown in with the other students, from Roldem, the Isles, Kesh, and a few from the Eastern Kingdoms, to study language, arts, music, history, sciences, and a little about magic. Mainly they learned how to be enlightened rulers, or at least that was the opinion of three of his teachers.

The brothers who ran the university were pious men of the Order of La-Timsa the White, the Pursuer of the One Path. Knowledge was power and with power came duty, they taught.

Hal also discovered that as an abstemious and celibate Order they didn’t have patience for what passed as fun with the majority of the students. Discipline was harsh and swift, even for minor infractions of the rules, and the favourite instrument of that discipline was the caning wand. Hal had suffered less than most, for he tended to be less fractious than the other boys: a rugged frontier life had made him grow up a little faster than the other lads his age.

He enjoyed the nights out with the other students, but while most were getting drunk and regaling one another with improbable stories designed to impress the jaded tavern girls, he would sit quietly making one ale last half the night. He had never been punished for not returning on time or for being ill from overindulging in drink or drugs the night before.

He rarely gambled and then cautiously, so he never won or lost significant amounts, and he always gave the common girls a wide path. A particularly difficult experience with a town girl one Midsummer’s festival taught him to be cautious, though the other boys seemed to lose all sense when a pretty girl happened by.

‘What are you thinking about?’ asked Ty. ‘You’ve been lost in thought for the last minute.’

‘Just thinking about the first time I came here.’ Hal sighed and stood up. ‘I must get out of here. Even if just for an hour’s walk.’

Ty was on his feet. With a smile he put his hand on Hal’s chest and said, ‘Wait a minute, my friend—’

Hal grinned, took a step and then spun around and was past him. With a laughing whoop he half-jumped, half-ran down the stairs, barely making the complete turn at the landing half-way between floors as he scampered to stay one step ahead of Ty.

It was just after the midday meal but there had been few patrons, so no one was in the dining room on the main floor to notice when the dark-haired young man raced down the stairs and out of the door with the sandy-haired youth only seconds behind him.

Since Swordmaster Phillip’s and Lord James’s departure the day after the King’s reception, rumours of war had erupted into news one day that Kesh had moved against the Isles and as a result the streets were unusually quiet for this time of day.

Ty caught up with Hal at last. ‘Wait! If you insist on ignoring your swordmaster and my father and Lord James, at least show the good sense to go armed.’ He tossed a sword he had grabbed up on the way and the young Lord of Crydee grabbed it.

‘Thank you.’ Hal belted on the weapon and took a deep breath. ‘Sea air! It’s different here in Roldem from Crydee. More … spices or flowers or … something, but it’s good. I’ve lived near the ocean since I was born and can’t imagine what it must be like to live in the mountains or the desert.’

Ty fell into step beside him. ‘I’ve lived in the mountains a while, but like you lived in a harbour city most of my life.’

‘Crydee is hardly a city. A large town at best. But it’s the capital of the duchy. I suspect every duke before my father considered moving the capital down to Carse – that’s the trading centre – but …’ He shrugged. ‘I’ll probably think about it, too.’ Then he grinned. ‘For a few minutes, anyway’. He glanced around, drinking in the sounds and noises after being locked away in a bedroom above a restaurant for almost a month.

It was very quiet.

A massive Keshian fleet had sailed up from the south and was striking at Kingdom cities and towns up and down the coast. Although neutral, Roldem was historically close to the Isles and their navy was a possible threat. While sending reassuring messages to King Carol, the Emperor’s chancellor had also dispatched a squadron of ships which had taken up station just outside the harbour mouth in Roldem, to discourage the Roldem fleet from sailing out. It was a strategic move, as the Roldem fleet could easily crush the Keshians, but it would be an act of war and right now Roldem was working hard to remain neutral. The King wished to serve as an honest broker between the two warring nations so he ordered his navy to stand down while he sent diplomatic messages to the two capitals.

As a result, people were staying close to home, out of fear of a Keshian assault on the city. Most judged it unlikely that war would come, but fear cared not for likelihood.

Every shop they passed was closed or empty of customers, and every step past a street vendor brought pleas to inspect goods or hungry stares from pedlars too long without sales.

‘Is war coming?’ asked Ty.

‘It’s already come,’ said Hal. ‘At least to my nation. I don’t know if the first arrow has been shot or the first sword blow struck, but if blood hasn’t been spilled it will be soon.’

‘How can you be certain? Isn’t it possible this is some sort of ploy, a means to gain concessions from the King of the Isles?’

Hal said, ‘One day I will be a duke and while I may not be the brightest student the university has seen, I do know how to listen, read, and try to utilise the lessons of wiser men than me.’ He was attempting to be light in tone, but Ty could tell he was serious. ‘Fleets as big as those Kesh has unleashed are not sent into hostile waters as a feint or to spur diplomacy. They are sent out to force concessions or to conquer.’

He stopped, looking around. From their vantage point along the river docks, they could see down into the harbour. ‘You see that clutter of ships?’ he said, pointing.

‘Yes?’

‘Every one of those is owned by a man losing gold. Every hour a ship sits there is an hour that owner is not making profit. Wood rots, rope frays, metal rusts, and men must be paid even if they sit and do nothing; or they must be discharged and leave the owners without crew once business returns, but ships only make money if they are hauling cargo and passengers.

‘There are syndicates across the Sea of Kingdoms and in the Bitter Sea where underwriters of cargo are already losing fortunes, because goods contracted and paid for are not being delivered. Men sitting in Barrett’s Coffee House in Krondor, Rufino’s Tavern in Salador, and Hanson’s Inn in Rillanon, men who were wealthy a month ago, now stand on the edge of poverty. Lives are being ruined. Shop owners will run out of goods to sell and people will go hungry.’ He turned and looked at Ty. ‘At least so far Kesh hasn’t sent any assassins to kill me.’

‘That we know of,’ said Ty. ‘We’ve kept you out of sight … until now!’ He laughed.

‘But now we are just two young men spending a pleasant afternoon out and about, walking, taking in the sights, talking about life, and getting out of your father’s lovely establishment which is currently my gaol!’

Ty laughed. ‘Was there ever so fine a gaol?’

‘True. But I am getting fat,’ Hal said patting his stomach. ‘I could use a hunt, a few days on the trail, some camp cooking, and I’d be able to get back into these trousers.’

‘Or you could eat less?’

‘Of Francisco’s cooking?’ asked Hal, looking as if what Ty had said was sheer madness.

‘Well, he is very good.’ Ty looked around and his eyes narrowed.

‘What?’ Hal’s gaze followed Ty’s.

‘Those men over there. I think they’re watching us. Don’t stare.’

Hal turned his back on them as if he were in conversation about something private with Ty and said, ‘Tall man, black cloak, short fellow, green vest over dirty grey shirt?’

‘Those are the two,’ said Ty glancing off in another direction as if listening to something he didn’t want to hear.

‘Saw them watching us before we came around the corner. I thought they might be following us.’

‘You didn’t think to mention it to me?’

‘I didn’t want to cause needless alarm.’ Hal kept his back to them. ‘What are they doing now?’

‘Not watching us, and working hard at it.’

‘Do you know a disreputable ale house not too far from here?’

Ty grinned. ‘Just the place, around this next corner.’

‘Back door?’

‘On a nice alley. I have had to employ it occasionally.’

‘Fights?’

‘Women.’

As they moved down the street, glancing out of the corner of their eyes at the two men, Ty continued, ‘When we first arrived here, I was new to many things, including the charms of the ladies.’

‘You don’t have ladies in Olasko?’

‘I had a mother in Olasko.’

Hal laughed. ‘I understand.’

They turned the corner. ‘My mother thinks I need to settle down. She’s …’ His voice dropped. ‘My mother went through a great deal … well, let us leave it that she would be happier if I found some nice young woman and started a family.’

‘How does your father feel?’ asked Hal as Ty pushed open the door to the tavern. He glanced up at the sign they passed beneath. It showed a painting of a man in fancy livery being chased by a large black dog which was nipping at his heels.

‘Father thinks I’ll get around to it in my own good time,’ Ty answered. ‘He’s been through a lot as well, but it’s left him with a different perspective.’ He opened his arms expansively. ‘Welcome to the Running Footman.’

It was just what one would expect of a riverside tavern in a port town: crowded, filled with workers, sailors, river men, and no doubt thieves and cheats. ‘Not exactly the River House,’ muttered Hal.

‘True, but for me that’s the charm, don’t you see?’ Ty moved to the bar and shouted, ‘Babette! My love! Miss me?’

The woman behind the bar was at least fifty years of age, possibly more, with sallow skin and a badly applied mask of rouge on her cheeks. She had darkened her eyes with kohl, or kajal as it was sometimes called, and wore the most impossibly red wig Hal had ever seen, including those worn by travelling players and clowns. She smiled. ‘Ty! You wound me with your absence.’ Her voice was so gravelly that for a moment Hal wasn’t certain she wasn’t a man in some horrible mummery; but that might have been the result of the pipe that hung from her lips, or from its smoke, from the very pungent and strong tabac she preferred. ‘Who’s your friend?’

‘By name, Henry.’

‘Hal.’ He extended his hand and she took it and gave the fingers a squeeze.

‘Pleasure.’

‘We’re thirsty,’ said Ty, and Hal nodded.

‘Two blacks!’ she shouted and a young man behind her grabbed two large porcelain mugs and filled them with a very dark brew. He brought them forward and Ty slapped a silver coin down. ‘Let me know when that’s used up.’

He led Hal to a waist-high shelf against the far wall where they could place their drinks and stand, for there were no empty seats at any table. Hal took his first drink and was greeted by a thick, frothy mouthful unlike anything he had tasted before. It was nutty and slightly bitter, yet it had a lingering sweetness. ‘This is remarkable,’ he said. ‘What is it?’

‘Porter,’ answered Ty. ‘It’s been brewed for years for the porters who work up and down the docks and river. It’s unique to Roldem, and what we have here is an example of the best; Black Beauty it’s called.’ Lowering his voice he said, ‘Just sip it. It’s OK to look drunk, just don’t get drunk.’

Hal nodded. ‘How long?’

Ty knew what he meant. ‘If they don’t come in after us …? Maybe an hour, then we leave out the back. If they’re watching the front and waiting for us, we’ll skulk around the corner and see them before they see us.’

‘What if they’re watching the back?’

Ty grinned. ‘I guess we’ll see them at the same time they see us.’

‘Tell me about Olasko.’ The two young men had been constant companions for nearly a month since word of the possibility of war had come, and had got to know each other well enough for Hal to count Ty a friend. Yet there was much about him that remained a mystery.

‘Not much to tell, really,’ said Ty. ‘The original settlers were colonists from Roldem, so the language is much the same, save for an odd word here, or a strange accent there. It’s not much of a task to learn the difference quickly. Among the Eastern Kingdoms it was very influential, as the last ruler before the present Duke Varian, a man named Kaspar, was very powerful and held sway. But that was a long time ago.’ He sighed and his face became a mask for a moment, and suddenly he looked a great deal older. Then his smile returned and he said, ‘But the mountains are magnificent and the hunting remarkable.’

Hal said, ‘I should like to see it, and to go hunting.’

‘Then we shall do so, once this current madness is resolved. What of Crydee? How’s the hunting there?’

‘Very good. It’s mainly forested land from the foothills and up into the Grey Tower Mountains. We have boars that stand man-high at the shoulder.’

‘Certainly not!’

‘We do! The forest boars are big, fast, and mean. You need a boar spear ten feet long with a steel head and bolted cross below it or they’ll run right up the shaft and gore you while you wait for them to die! We have brown bears and lions, though they’ve almost been hunted out, and plenty of wolves and deer, stag, and elk.’ He shrugged. ‘And the occasional wyvern.’

‘Wyvern?’ said Ty, looking askance. ‘I bought the boar, but a wyvern? Dragon-kin?’

‘So they say, though that’s like saying one of those little dogs the ladies at court carry around is wolf-kin.’

‘You’ve seen one?’

‘Ha! My father has the head of one down in the basement. It used to hang in the trophy hall, but Mother made him take it down. Said it disgusted her.’ He grinned. ‘It was pretty disgusting, really. All droopy eyes and fangs, and the man who mounted the head for great-grandfather managed to make a botch of the ears, so they sort of went this way—’ he made a gesture with two fingers one pointing up and the other one pointing to the side.

‘Ladies?’

It was Hal’s turn to laugh. ‘Nothing like you have here, that’s for certain.’

‘There’s nothing like the ladies of Roldem anywhere,’ said Ty. ‘Men who hold riches, power, and rank, it’s a lodestone for beauties of all ranks, noble and common. Now, the ladies of Crydee?’

‘Few,’ said Hal with a shrug, ‘if you mean ladies of noble birth.’

‘Girls, then,’ said Ty impatiently.

‘A few worth spending time with.’ His expression grew wry. ‘Remember that problem you have in Olasko?’

‘Mother?’

‘I have one too, in Crydee.’ He sighed theatrically. ‘And she knows everyone, and I do mean everyone in the town. She cares for the ill and makes sure anyone who’s fallen on hard times has food, and takes charge of all shopping for the Duke’s household …’

‘So, gossip?’

‘Yes. There was one girl, a miller’s daughter, who caught my eye and I swear my mother had me in her room, bending my ear about not using my rank to take advantage … I was thirteen! It was my first kiss!’

Ty roared with laughter. ‘So, not a lot …?’ he shrugged.

‘No, not a lot. A few, mostly when mother was away or I travelled, but nothing like here. In Crydee, I’m … well, I’m the Duke’s son, the next duke, so … it’s not like here.’ He took a deep drink.

‘Easy,’ Ty said.

‘One won’t hurt.’

‘But it’s never just one. Now, what do you mean, it’s not like here?’

‘Your father, is he noble?’

‘In a manner of speaking. He has a patent from the Isles, a knighthood in your part of the Kingdom, from around Ylith or Hawks Hollow, or somewhere. But we’ve lived in Olasko so long that it’s home.’

‘Well, there you have it,’ said Hal. ‘You can’t swing a dead cat in Roldem without hitting a nobleman. So even if you’re nobility, you’re not that noble.’ Ty fixed him with a mocking gaze. ‘You know what I mean. I mean if you carouse and end up in some tavern wench’s bed or she in yours, it’s only something of the moment. If I do it, I’m the Duke’s son. In a day everyone in the town would be gossiping …’

‘And your mother would find out.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Hal.

‘Sympathies, my friend,’ said Ty, feigning a sip at his drink. With a quick glance he looked to see if anyone was watching, and seeing no eyes upon them, he spilled some of his drink on the straw-covered floor.

‘Besides, there’s Bethany.’

‘Who’s Bethany?’

‘The daughter of Lord Robert, Earl of Carse and vassal to my father. Everyone expects us to wed.’ He sighed.

‘Not pretty?’

‘On the contrary. She’s … quite beautiful. Bright, funny, and can shoot a bow better than anyone in the entire duchy, save perhaps for my brother Brendan. Not counting elves, of course.’

‘Of course, not counting elves.’ Ty rolled his eyes. Like most Easterners, he found tales of elves, dwarves, goblins, and trolls problematic, bordering on myth and lore.

Hal went on, ‘She’s probably one of the more attractive girls in the duchy, it’s just …’

‘What? You don’t like her?’

‘I like her well enough, but I’m not in love with her.’

‘Love?’ Ty looked genuinely surprised. ‘You’re a duke’s son. You’ll marry for political reasons, Hal. Love has nothing to do with it.’

‘It’s different out west,’ said Hal. ‘The King hardly cares who we wed, so …’ He fell silent. Then he said, ‘Beth is like my sister. I’ve known her since she was born. She’s the same age as my brother Martin. We used to splash around in the same bath, all three of us.’

‘Well, I’m certain it will be fine. At least it’s not like marrying a stranger, like some of these lot do.’ His gesture indicated the royal part of the island, so Hal knew he was speaking of Roldemish nobility.

‘Yes,’ said Hal. ‘If I must, I must, and probably I can’t do better than Beth, and certainly I could do worse. But …’

‘What?’

‘It’s my brother Martin.’

‘What about him?’

Hal smiled a rueful smile. ‘He’s in love with her.’

‘He’s told you?’

‘No, actually, I think he’s too stupid to admit it to himself, but there’s been something going on between them for the last few years.’ He shrugged. ‘Even that would be less of a problem, for Martin’s as reliable and loyal as you could want a brother to be, but …’

‘What?’ prodded Ty, now very interested.

‘I think Beth loves him back.’

‘Oh,’ said Ty, nodding. ‘A brother who’s loyal being in love with your wife is one thing, but your wife being in love with your brother …’

Just as Hal was about to reply, his eyes widened.

Ty glanced over his shoulder to see two men entering the tavern. One was a red-bearded fellow in a grey jacket with a sailor’s cutlass at his side, and the other was black-haired with a dark green waistcoat and two long dirks in his belt. They were not the same men who had been watching them, but Hal noticed they took a good look around the room, their gaze lingering for just the briefest moment on Hal and Ty before they moved toward the bar.

Looking down at his porter, Ty asked, ‘Did you—?’

‘I saw,’ answered Hal. ‘They recognized us.’

‘Follow me.’

Ty moved with purpose but not with haste toward the bar and through a door to the right. ‘They’ll think we’re going to the jakes to relieve ourselves, but that will be good for less than five minutes.’

From the smell of sour beer and human waste emanating from the corridor, Hal had no doubt they were approaching the jakes, but at the end of the hall there were two doors, and Ty pushed open the rear door, then pulled Hal into the one on the side. It was a large closet containing a bucket, dirty mop, two straw brooms, and barely enough additional room to accommodate both of them.

‘Be silent,’ whispered Ty. He kept his hand on the latch and peered through a tiny crack between the door and the jamb.

Five or so minutes passed, then Hal heard the sound of men passing, then running out of the back door. Ty waited for a moment, then said, ‘Half the wall next to the jakes is down, so it’s no task to jump over the stonework and get out into the alley. They are no doubt running around back there looking for us, so we shall go out the front.’

They hurried out of the hall, through the main room, and left without anyone taking notice. Outside, they turned back towards the River House and Ty said, ‘I think that was enough adventure for the day.’

Hal was about to reply when the first two men they had seen watching them stepped out of a nearby doorway, weapons drawn.

‘Or then again, perhaps not,’ said Ty drawing his own sword.

Hall drew his weapon and stepped to the right, giving himself a little room next to his companion. The street had solid shop fronts on one side, and the river on the other, so the two men would be forced to come straight at them. Both young swordsmen relaxed and stood ready. Softly Ty said, ‘You think these two didn’t hear about the Masters’ Court?’

As the two men suddenly charged, Hal answered, ‘I don’t think they care.’ He knew from experience there was a profound difference between formal duelling and combat.

Ty discovered that in the first instant, when he attempted to beat aside his opponent’s blade and discovered it was a feint not to gain blade position but so that he could bring up a short knife in his left hand and drive it into Ty’s stomach. But Ty was fast enough to recognize the threat. Turning slightly, he let the man go by. ‘So, that’s how it’s going to be?’ He kicked out and left the man sprawling.

Hal knew he faced a brawler from the way the man made one lunge, then retreated into a crouch. Suddenly he realized something. The other two men would be back. ‘We’d best kill them swiftly and be on our way.’

‘I know,’ said Ty. He watched as his man made the fatal mistake of trying to turn while still on the ground and as he stood up he impaled himself on the tip of Ty’s sword.

Ty turned to see Hal’s opponent backing away. His eyes widened, and Ty turned around and saw the two men who had run out of the tavern appear, coming from the other direction at a run. Ty crouched as the two men came close.

But rather than attack, the two men slowed and approached with their palms upraised. ‘Wait!’ shouted one, the red-bearded man.

‘Why?’ demanded Ty, standing over the body of the man he had just killed.

‘That,’ said the second man, pointing behind Ty.

‘Hal, what does he mean by “that”?’ asked Ty, not taking his eyes off the two men from the tavern.

‘Look,’ said Hal. From the other end of the street a half dozen men were coming at a run.

‘Come with us,’ said the red-bearded man.

‘How do we know we can trust you?’ asked Ty.

‘You think you can trust that lot?’ replied the man, pointing again.

Ty looked once more and saw the men who were approaching had their weapons drawn.

‘Fair enough!’ shouted Hal, lashing out with a sudden move that took his close opponent across the ribs. It was not a killing blow but would slow the man down enough to stop him joining in the hunt.

They took off on a mad dash and the red-bearded man motioned for them to turn a corner and race towards the harbour. Hal glanced over his shoulder and saw the men behind them now numbered a full dozen, all looking ready for blood.

Normally the crowded streets of Roldem’s river and harbour district would have been a hindrance, but because business had fallen off, the docks were as empty as if it had been a temple holy day. They charged through one big square, down another street and came to the docks. The red-bearded man turned right and the other three followed. At the end of the docks a ship was tied up and before the gangplank stood a dozen armed men.

Ty began to slow, but the dark-haired man shouted, ‘It’s all right. Come on!’

The men in front of the gangway parted and the four of them ran up to the deck of the ship. They looked back just in time to see the dozen men run up to the men gathered before the ship. They slowed just out of reach and hesitated.

Ty said, ‘If they attack do we go back down?’

‘They won’t attack,’ said the red-bearded man.

‘Why?’ asked Hal.

‘That’s why,’ said his companion, pointing to the far end of the dock.

Where the dozen pursuers had turned, there now came a squad of men in the uniform of the Roldem city guard. Steel helmets gleamed in the day’s sun and half of them carried pikes.

The leader of the pursuers saw them coming, shouted an order and they broke into a run and dashed down an alley, away from the docks.

The leader of the watch came to stand before the dock workers and demanded, ‘What’s all this, then? Got a dead man back around the corner and saw a bunch of men dashing this way.’

One of the dock men said, ‘Jumped one of our lads in the alley and a fight broke out. We came and got them then they got their friends, then they came here, and tried to fetch our lads.’

The watch leader looked dubious then he glanced over and saw which ship he was standing by. ‘Oh, this is …?’

‘Yes,’ said the dock man. ‘I think it was a ruse to get aboard.’

‘Well, we can’t have that,’ the watch commander said. ‘They’re long gone, no doubt, but we’ll have a look after them and see if we can find anything.’ His attitude suggested he wouldn’t look very hard and expected to find nothing. With a wave he gestured for his company to follow and he set off along the alley down which the other gang had fled.

‘Well, that’s done,’ said the red-bearded man. He turned to Ty and Hal. ‘Follow me, please.’

Seeing no alternative, they did and he led them through a door to a cabin at the rear of the ship.

In the room they found two people waiting, a young man in naval uniform and a beautiful young woman. She smiled and said, ‘There you are.’

‘Ma’am,’ said Hal, and Ty touched his forelock in salute.

She sighed theatrically. ‘I am Lady Franciezka Sorboz, a loyal servant to His Majesty the King.’

‘And I am Albér,’ said the young officer. ‘We met at—’

‘You’re the Prince!’ blurted Ty. ‘Highness …’ He bowed.

Hal followed suit. ‘Your highness.’

The young man grinned. ‘Here I am Captain, not Prince.’

‘This is your ship, High— Captain?’ asked Ty.

‘Yes.’ He motioned for the two men to sit opposite Franciezka on a padded seat in front of the large stern windows. Even though these were the captain’s quarters, there wasn’t a lot of room.

‘We were content merely to watch over you from a distance,’ said Lady Franciezka, ‘until you so foolishly decided to go out brawling.’

‘Actually, my lady,’ said Ty, ‘he decided to go out. I went after him to ensure he was safe, and the brawling was not our idea. It just sort of happened.’

‘It’s been a month,’ said Hal, as if that explained everything. ‘So, were those Keshians? They didn’t look like Keshians.’

‘Those were common thugs, though I suspect at least one among them may have been a trained assassin,’ said Lady Franciezka. ‘You would both have been found dead, or you dead, Prince Henry, and you wounded, young Hawkins, and the story would be that it was a dockside brawl among many men, and the witnesses would have conflicting stories. Create enough confusion and the truth is hidden.’

‘And while the city watch was sorting things out,’ added Prince Albér, ‘my father would have the difficult task of informing King Gregory that a distant cousin of his was killed in a brawl.’

Hal realized something. ‘You didn’t answer me. They were Kesh’s agents, right?’

‘No,’ said Lady Franciezka. ‘Despite the fleet looming off the harbour mouth, we’re actually on good terms with Kesh these days, at least relative to what the Kingdom of the Isles is dealing with; no, we have sure knowledge those weren’t Keshian agents trying to kill you.’

‘Who then?’ asked Ty.

‘That’s the question, isn’t it?’ said Albér.

‘Yes. It wasn’t Kesh and it certainly wasn’t Roldem,’ offered Lady Franciezka. ‘That means there’s another, unknown, player taking a hand.’