Читать книгу The Riftwar Legacy: The Complete 4-Book Collection - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 17

THE ABBOT WAVED A GREETING.

They climbed the trail from the dragon statue to the converted inn, and found Abbot Graves waiting for them. ‘You’d better get into town before you leave, James,’ he said.

‘Why?’ asked James, looking for signs of trouble in the Abbot’s manner.

‘About five minutes after you vanished down that trail, a column of riders came past here, heading into the city.’

James squinted towards town, as if trying to see the riders. ‘Something was notable about them, else you wouldn’t be remarking on them. What?’

‘They wore the King’s colours. And unless I don’t remember my days as a thief in Krondor, old Guy du Bas-Tyra himself rode at their head.’

‘That’s something we need to see then,’ said James. He motioned for Gorath and Owyn to follow him and started walking toward town. ‘We’ll be back in a while, Graves.’

The Abbot waved goodbye, and turned back into the building.

They hurried into the town, heading down the main boulevard, and reached the town square. There, a full squad of riders were dismounting and tending to their horses before an inn with a chess piece – a white queen – on its sign. The soldiers were all attired in the livery of the royal house, black trousers and boots, grey tunics over which each wore a scarlet tabard with a white circle and scarlet lion rampant, crowned gold and holding a sword: the King’s coat-of-arms. A line of purple around the edge of the circle and upon the cuffs of the tunic showed these were palace guards, those whose first duty was to the Royal Family. Two guards stood at the door, and one said, ‘Easy now, friend. The Duke of Rillanon is taking his ease in the commons and no one goes in until he’s left or without the Duke’s say-so.’

‘Then get yourself inside, soldier, and tell him Seigneur James of Krondor is here on the Prince’s business.’

The soldier gave James and his companions an appraising look, then went inside.

A moment later a large man, his grey hair flowing to his shoulders and a black patch over his left eye, appeared before them. He stood with his hand upon the door a moment, then waved them in.

Inside the common room, James and the others could see the soldiers of the King’s Royal Guard were efficiently checking out the surroundings.

Guy du Bas-Tyra, Duke of Rillanon and First Counsellor to the King of Isles, waved them to a table where he sat down heavily. ‘Get me something to drink!’ he shouted, and a soldier detailed to be his orderly hurried to where an intimidated-looking barman waited. The man almost hurt himself on the edge of the bar trying to bring out a tray of pewter jacks. He filled them quickly and ran over to place the first one before Bas-Tyra and then served the others at the table. He said, ‘Would m’lord care for something to eat?’

‘Later,’ said Guy, slowly removing his heavy gloves. ‘Something hot for me and my men. Cook up a side of beef.’ The innkeeper bowed and backed away, knocking over a chair at the next table, which he quickly righted. Guy looked at James and nodded.

James’s brow furrowed but he returned the nod. Duke Guy said, ‘So, Arutha is sending you east to snoop around?’

James said, ‘That’s one way of putting it, Your Grace.’

Guy pointed to Gorath. ‘Now, explain to me why I shouldn’t cut his heart out and hang you for being a black-hearted rogue and traitor to the Crown?’

Gorath’s hand tightened slightly on the hilt of his sword, but he didn’t move. Owyn’s face drained of colour, but he saw James smile.

‘Because it would irritate Arutha?’

Guy laughed. ‘You haven’t lost any of that mouth, have you, Jimmy?’

The young man said, ‘I probably never will. We’ve been through too much for you to seriously wonder about where my loyalties lie, so I judged you were taking out your bad temper on me because you couldn’t take it out on Arutha. Why’s he got you so peeved?’

The Duke of Rillanon, most powerful noble in the Kingdom after the Royal Family, leaned back in his plain wooden chair and made an all-encompassing gesture around him. ‘This. Because I’m here in a town whose only excuse for existing is its location between Krondor and Salador, and because Lyam is concerned about reports that have been coming to the court of renegade moredhel –’ he locked his one good eye on Gorath ‘– and some other unsavoury types running loose between here and Romney.’

‘Why you?’

‘A variety of reasons,’ said the Duke. He took a long drink of ale. ‘I usually don’t drink this early in the day, but I’m usually not riding all night, either.’

‘Those other unsavoury types wouldn’t be Nighthawks, would they?’ asked James.

‘They might be,’ said Guy. ‘What’s Arutha hearing?’

‘Nothing until I get back and report,’ said James. ‘But on the way into the city, Locky and these two found a pair of frauds playing the part of the Guild of Death.’

Guy looked off into the distance for a moment, as if weighing his words. ‘If you were trying to revive the Nighthawks,’ he posed to James, ‘and you wanted someone to think that you weren’t, how useful would it be to have a bunch of bunglers found out as false Nighthawks?’

James’s eyes widened. ‘Brilliant! It would take attention off what I was really trying to do, I would have some pawns to offer up as a sacrifice, and the people I’m the most worried about wouldn’t take me seriously.’

‘Look deep, Jimmy,’ said Guy. ‘Find who’s really behind the troubles we’re having. There’s an old axiom: absent any contrary information, assume your enemy will act intelligently. The corollary of that is: act stupid, and your enemy won’t take you seriously.’

James said, ‘You still haven’t said why you’re here.’

Guy nodded. ‘The King wanted me to personally take a hand in this region. It seems some of our local nobles are suspect.’

‘Of treason?’

‘Not that, though it might be a remote possibility.’ Guy finished his ale. ‘Rather, they’re suspected of incompetence. My lord, the Earl of Romney, has a guild war about to break out, and seems unable to do anything about it. I ordered a company of Royal Lancers to head that way to bail him out as I left; they should be arriving some time in the next week.’

‘What sort of war?’ asked James.

‘I don’t know the details, but it seems the Brotherhood of Riverpullers has raised prices to the point where merchants can’t afford to have their goods hauled up or down the river, and the other guilds are lining up in opposition to the Riverpullers. Both sides are hiring swords, and, for all I know, the Earl of Romney has declared martial law by now. Hell, for all I know, the city is in flaming ruin.’ He slapped the table for emphasis, as if he didn’t care whether Romney did go up in flames.

‘And besides this tour to get things in hand, we’re showing the King is personally interested; the banners are waving in front of people who need to see them, and I’m also required by His Majesty to give a lecture tonight.’

‘Lecture?’ asked James, barely able to keep from laughing. ‘On what? And to whom?’

Guy sighed. ‘On the Battle of Armengar, and to anyone who wants to listen.’ He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe his own words. ‘You know that thug, Graves, who the Ishapians sent here to start that new abbey?’

James nodded. ‘I knew Ethan before he heard the call. He was a rough one in those days; one of the better bashers in the Mockers.’

‘I can believe it. In any event, he has decided, or rather the Ishapian Temple in Rillanon has decided, that a school is to be built here, in Malac’s Cross, “the centre of the Kingdom”, and that young nobles are to attend. They call it a collegium.’ He lowered his voice a bit. ‘I think they’re distrustful of what our friend Pug is doing down in Stardock and think they may gain by having a similar venue for influencing the young nobles of the Kingdom. And I think they also want a base near …’ His eyes flickered from Gorath to Owyn, and he let his words lapse.

James knew what he was about to say: near Sethanon and the Lifestone, so all he did was nod slightly. Glancing around the room, James said, ‘I don’t notice a lot of young nobles in the area, Guy.’

Guy reached across the table and attempted to give James a playful slap to the head, which James adroitly avoided. ‘You always were a smart mouth, Jimmy, and you always will be a smart mouth.’ James grinned. ‘Even if you some day get your wish and connive to be named Duke of Krondor, you’ll still be a smart mouth.’

James laughed. ‘Maybe. Now, where are these young nobles?’

Guy sighed. ‘A few will wander in from surrounding estates, no doubt. That’s why I rode all night to get here. Damn weather had my ship reaching Salador two days late, so I’m riding through the night so as not to make a liar out of the King.’ He took another sip of ale. ‘And it’s why I want you to attend the lecture tonight. It’s in a house down near the eastern edge of the town. You won’t be able to miss it; it’ll be the one with all the Royal Guardsmen standing in front of it.’ He stood up, and James did as well, Owyn and Gorath a moment after. ‘Lyam asked me to do this while I was making arrangements along the frontier with the Western Realm, and as a favour to the Ishapian Temple. I, loyal duke that I am, could hardly say no to my king. You, loyal squire that you are, cannot say no to me. You will attend the lecture this evening as my claque, seigneur. Now, I’m going to see to my men, and then I plan on getting some sleep.’

The Duke departed, heading upstairs to the rooms set aside for him. Gorath turned to James and said, ‘What is a claque?’

James laughed. ‘Theatre owners hire them to cheer loudly at performances, to gull the uninformed into thinking the play was brilliant. It gets quite funny sometimes. Five or six people will be cheering wildly, while the rest of the audience is booing and throwing rotten vegetables at the actors.’

Gorath finished his ale and shook his head in dismay. ‘Humans.’

The innkeeper came over and said, ‘Anything else, gentlemen?’

He studied James’s face for a long moment, then said, ‘Sorry. Thought you were someone else.’ Clearing his throat, he repeated, ‘Anything else?’

‘If I don’t get food on top of that ale, I’ll be asleep in an hour,’ said Owyn. ‘I’ve never drunk so early in the day.’

Gorath let out a disapproving grunt, but said nothing.

James said, ‘Whatever food you’re serving, ah …?’

‘Ivan’s the name, sir,’ he said, bowing as he turned to leave.

The door to the tavern opened and three men entered. James, Gorath and Owyn all looked, their mission making them wary. The three men were locals, and one was carrying a chess set. They set it up on a table and two began to play while the third watched.

Ivan returned and served the food: cold meats, cheese, spiced greens and sweetened apples. He put the platter on the table and said, ‘More ale?’

James nodded. Another pair of men came to set up another game of chess and James said, ‘This goes on here a lot?’

Ivan nodded. ‘The Queen’s Row, sir? The chess piece on the sign means something. Old man Bargist, who opened this inn some thirty years ago, was a fair player, and since then, well, travellers and locals alike know that this is where you come to play a match if you want to test your mettle. You play, sir?’

‘Not well,’ said James. ‘My … employer plays very well, and has taught me the basics.’

‘You can always find someone here willing to play,’ he said as he departed to see what the soldiers were ordering.

The door opened and a ragged old woman slipped through, closing it behind her. She came across the room and stood next to James. ‘I thought you gone up to Lyton, Lysle. And where did you get those clothes?’ She felt the fabric of his tunic at the shoulder. ‘Must have snitched them off a baron, from the feel of them.’ She squinted at James as if she had trouble seeing him.

‘I think you have mistaken me for someone else. My name is James –’

‘James, is it?’ she interrupted ‘Well, then, if it’s James, then it’s James.’ She nudged him with her elbow and winked. ‘Like the time you chewed soap and walked around foaming at the mouth, eh, dearie? Taking alms from the gullible? If you say so. Be a love and buy old Petrumh some food, will you?’ She then noticed Gorath and said, ‘What are you doing with an elf, boy? Don’t you know they’re bad luck? They’re the ones killed my old man Jack, and they’re causing all that trouble up at Sethanon. What are you thinking?’

James asked, ‘What trouble in Sethanon?’

She leaned down, and blinked, studying James’s face. ‘You’re not Lysle!’ she said. Slapping him weakly on the shoulder she said, ‘What are you doing with his face?’ Her hands came up to her mouth and she stepped back. ‘Ow!’ she cried. ‘You’re an evil fairy, that’s it! You’ve taken Lysle’s form to trick me!’

James put up his hands. ‘Madam! We are not evil fairies.’

‘And I am not an elf!’ grumbled Gorath under his breath.

The old woman leaned forward again. ‘Well, you don’t look evil, that’s a fact. But you could be Lysle’s twin, and that’s also a fact.’

James waved Ivan over and gave him a coin. ‘See the woman gets some food,’ he instructed. To Petrumh, he said, ‘You say this Lysle has gone to Lyton?’

‘Left a few days ago, he did,’ she agreed. ‘Said he was to meet a gentleman there. I suspect he’ll be in trouble, sorry to say. That’s Lysle. Has a knack for trouble, he does. And I doubt the bloke he’s meeting is a gentleman.’

Ivan took the woman by the elbow and moved her to a corner table and sat her down before food. She dug in without looking up and James turned his attention to his companions.

‘A double?’ said Gorath.

Owyn said, ‘Could someone have put a lookalike on the road to Romney ahead of us?’

James shrugged. ‘Maybe. It’s been done before. I saw a double of the Prince years ago in the sewers of Krondor. If it hadn’t have been for muddy boots, he might have convinced people he was Arutha and played havoc with things for a while.’ He shook his head and said, ‘But I doubt it. From what the old woman said, this fellow Lysle’s been around here a while. It may just be a coincidence. A while back some fellows up in Tannerus kept trying to beat me up for something done by some other fellow until I convinced them I wasn’t that person. Twice, in less than a year, makes me think there’s someone walking around who resembles me, and from what I’ve heard, he’s not doing me any favours with the resemblance.’ He waved the innkeeper over.

‘Have you seen me before?’ asked James.

‘Can’t say as I have,’ said Ivan.

‘But you thought you had, earlier,’ observed James.

‘No, I said I thought you were someone else.’

‘Who?’ asked James.

‘Lysle Riggers,’ said Ivan. ‘Local scoundrel, truth to tell. Has his hands in a lot of … questionable activities. Still, he’s also a good man to know if you need something done, if you know what I mean.’

‘I do,’ said James. ‘Have you known this fellow long?’

‘On and off, off and on, maybe ten years or so,’ said Ivan. ‘He comes and he goes. Sometimes he’s here for a month, then gone a year, other times he’s here a year, then gone a month. Never can say what he’s up to.’ He looked at all three in turn. ‘Can I get you anything else?’

‘No, that will be all,’ said James.

‘What now?’ asked Owyn, yawning from the effects of drinking early in the day.

James said, ‘I’m heading back to chat with my old friend Graves. You might do well with a nap. And tonight we’ll go listen to Duke Guy lecture local youths about the Battle of Armengar.’

Gorath said, ‘I may stay here. I already know about Armengar. I was there.’

James grinned. ‘So was I. But we’ll go. It’s not politic to disappoint a duke, my friend. It can cause troubles if you do.’

Gorath’s answer was an inarticulate snort, but he stood and said, ‘I am going to scout around. From what the old woman said, some of my people may have been nearby. I will look for any signs.’

‘Good,’ said James, standing up. ‘We all have something to do.’

James and Gorath left, and Owyn went to where Ivan stood cleaning glasses behind the bar. ‘Could I rent a room for tonight?’ he asked.

‘Normally I’d be happy to oblige,’ said Ivan. ‘But the King’s men have taken them all.’

Owyn asked, ‘Is there another inn nearby?’

‘There’s one a half day’s ride to the west, though I wouldn’t recommend it. And there’s another a half day’s ride to the east, but I wouldn’t recommend it, either.’

‘Perhaps a spot in your barn?’

‘King’s men won’t allow it, lad. Sorry.’

Owyn turned away and decided to catch up with James. If he couldn’t nap, perhaps he might find something interesting to study at the Ishapian abbey.

Much to James’s surprise, there were a fair number of attendees at Guy’s lecture on the Battle of Armengar. Owyn sat nearby looking sleepy. He had returned to the makeshift abbey and managed to find some books to read. He had become engrossed in one that touched on magic and found several things of interest.

During the talk James had elbowed Owyn twice as the young man was about to drop off to sleep. As the lecture wrapped up, James was forced to admit the old commander of the defences at Armengar had been truly brilliant in his tactics. The mere fact that a fair number of survivors reached Yabon safely while the Teeth of the World had swarmed with goblins and moredhel looking for human refugees had been an accomplishment.

The audience applauded politely when Guy concluded his remarks and several young nobles from the area approached to talk to the Duke. James said, ‘Wait here,’ and went to make his goodbyes to Guy.

When he returned, he said, ‘Let’s go.’

‘Where?’ asked Owyn. ‘There’s nowhere to sleep in town.’

‘We can sleep on the floor at the abbey and get a fresh start in the morning.’

‘Good,’ said Owyn yawning. ‘I’m all in.’

‘You’d better learn to hold your ale, Owyn,’ said Jimmy with a grin.

They moved down the road and James wasn’t surprised to find Gorath suddenly beside them, though Owyn nearly leaped sideways when the dark elf materialized out of the evening gloom.

‘Find anything?’ asked James.

‘Tracks. Moredhel have been through here recently.’

‘What else?’

‘A fair number of people are passing to the north of town, not through it.’

‘We can assume they don’t wish to be seen. Which way were they going, east or west?’

‘Both. A lot of people moving in both directions, but keeping out of sight.’

James shook his head in consternation. ‘Damn, I don’t like any of this.’

They remained silent as they reached the abbey. ‘Well,’ said Graves, as they entered the former common room, ‘how was the lecture?’

‘Could have used a singer,’ said James with a straight face.

‘Duke Armand de Sevigny will be lecturing here next month,’ said Graves, ‘and Baldwin de la Troville the month after.’

James assured him, ‘I’ll try not to miss the lectures. Have you a place we can sleep tonight?’

‘You’re welcome to bed down under the tables here in the commons, Jimmy; but the rooms upstairs are being used by the brothers or for storage.’

‘Under the tables will be fine,’ said Owyn, unrolling his bedding from his travel bundle. Gorath did likewise without comment.

James sat opposite the thief-turned-cleric and, keeping his voice low, said, ‘Why here, Ethan?’

The Abbot shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Jimmy. You know the order wants to be close to Sethanon,’ he said. ‘There’s a rough village forming up a few miles south of the old city but nothing you’d call a proper town. It’s still a decent trading route, though, and some folks seek to profit by caravans and traders passing by. It would be too obvious for us to try to build an abbey there. But here we can be circumspect and still send a brother up there to snoop around from time to time, just to ensure nothing disturbs the status quo.’

‘I noticed the next two lecturers are men Bas-Tyra trusts.’

Graves nodded. ‘There’re too many strange things going on for him to do otherwise. Some of the other nobles …’ he shrugged. ‘They’re not as trustworthy as they could be.’

‘You don’t think treason, do you?’

‘I don’t know what to think,’ said Graves. ‘I’m a former thief who has been handpicked by the temple in Rillanon for a potentially difficult, even critical assignment.’ He looked down as if afraid to look James in the eyes. ‘I don’t know if I’m equal to the task.’

‘I’ve never heard you act the shy role before, Ethan.’

Graves sighed. ‘There’s a lot you don’t know, Jimmy. I have some old … ties, you could say. They aren’t easily broken. You know how it is.’

James laughed. ‘Better than most. I have a death mark on me from the Mockers if I cross their boundaries, yet I do so all the time. And they conveniently ignore my trespass when it suits them. I know what you mean, I think.’

Graves said, ‘I hope when the time comes you do know what I mean.’ He stood up. ‘I must retire. There’s a great deal to be done around here. Have a good night, Jimmy.’

‘You too, Ethan.’

James undid his own bedding and lay down next to Owyn, who was already fast asleep. As he drifted off himself, he wondered just what Graves had meant by ‘when the time comes’.

The north wind cut through the night. James huddled under his cloak as the three stayed close to their fire. The road from Malac’s Cross to Silden was far less travelled than the King’s Highway to Salador, but it was a more direct route. Behind them, the three horses James had purchased, along with tack, were quietly eating the grain he had bought for them.

Owyn said, ‘James, I’m worried about something and I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it since we left Malac’s Cross.’

Gorath said, ‘You have seemed troubled.’

James asked, ‘What is it?’

‘I don’t know exactly, but it’s something I picked up from the Oracle … A sense of foreboding.’

‘Given our circumstances,’ said Gorath, ‘that is not particularly inappropriate.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked James, looking intently at Owyn.

‘It’s like the Oracle was worried.’

James was silent, then said, ‘I’m no expert, and I’ve never seen the Oracle myself, but from what I hear, the Oracle can tell futures, but not her own.’

‘Futures?’ said Gorath.

James paused, then said, ‘Maybe I’m telling it wrong, but the magician Pug once told me that the future is not set in stone, but the result of many acts, and that by changing an act today, the future changes.’

Owyn said, ‘As if you had not come south, Gorath, Delekhan’s plans would be further along.’

‘I understand that,’ said Gorath. ‘But if the future is fluid, what good is an Oracle?’

James shrugged. ‘There is a great deal of wisdom in this Oracle, I have been told.’

Owyn looked at Gorath and said, ‘I think James is right. But I still don’t know about that feeling of worry.’

‘Perhaps the Oracle’s fate is bound up in what we do,’ suggested Gorath. ‘Then it would be difficult for her to see the future, if what James said is correct. Perhaps that is the source of the worry.’

James said nothing. He was one of the few who knew of the existence of the Lifestone under Sethanon. Only a handful of those who had been at the battle knew of the magic relic from the time of the Dragon Lords. Few knew that the Oracle of Aal was the guardian of the Lifestone and resided in a vast chamber below the City of Sethanon.

The statue at Malac’s Cross was designed to mislead those who knew nothing of the dragon Oracle’s existence. Should any come seeking the Oracle, it provided the means for them to contact her without actually being in her presence.

James said, ‘I’m trying to puzzle together some things. We have Tsurani Great Ones getting their riches stolen, so that Tsurani renegades can sell them to moredhel raiders, who swap them for weapons. We have a false Guild of Death, maybe to mask some real Nighthawks who survived the night we burned their headquarters to the ground in Krondor, and a lot of false trails in the west predicting an invasion from the north.’

Gorath said, ‘My people will proceed cautiously. They will want some indication from Delekhan that Murmandamus indeed is alive in Sethanon, being held there against his will, before they will march.’

James said, ‘No offence to your people, but that sort of “proof” is easy to make.’

‘Agreed,’ said Gorath, ‘which is why Delekhan is attempting to remove all of us who were in opposition to him.’

James lay back, wrapping the cloak around him. ‘Well, we may find answers or we may not, but right now I could use some sleep.’

‘You going to look for that double of yours in Lyton?’ asked Owyn.

‘It’s on the way,’ said James. ‘Might as well while we’re passing through town.’

Owyn rolled over, trying to get close enough to the fire to stay warm without burning himself. Gorath just lay silently, until he was asleep.

Sleep was a long time in coming for James as he wrestled with all the fragments and clues he had. Somewhere in all this apparent chaos was a pattern; somehow all the pieces came together and made sense.

The ride to Lyton was uneventful until they reached the outskirts of the town at sundown. Off the side of the road stood a forlorn farm, abandoned by the look of it, with a ramshackle barn, around which skulked black-clad figures.

Gorath saw them first, and James said, ‘I wouldn’t have even noticed them if you hadn’t pointed them out to me.’

‘There are four of them, and they seem very curious as to the contents of that abandoned barn,’ said the dark elf.

James said, ‘My bump of trouble is itching like mad. I think we’ve found our real Nighthawks.’

Owyn said, ‘What do we do?’

Pulling out his sword, James replied, ‘Kill them before they notice us, if we’re lucky.’

He turned his horse off the road and moved forward at a trot. They travelled across an abandoned field overgrown with tall grass which rose to chest height on the horses. It masked their movement for a while, as the dark-clad figures seemed intent on the barn, which allowed James and his companions to reach the edge of the field before being seen.

The assassin who first saw them shouted and two others turned, as James spurred his horse forward to charge. One of the black-clad men carried a sword and readied himself to strike at James, while another leaped out of the way. At the corner of the barn, a third figure easily drew an arrow and nocked it to his bow, pulling back in a fluid draw. Suddenly a dark nimbus of energy splashed the side of the barn, missing him, but distracting him enough that he fell back without shooting.

Gorath upon the second man was leaping from the back of his horse, while James engaged the first. Owyn cursed as he realized that while he had managed to unravel the mystery of the spell Nago had thrown at him and could now duplicate it, he couldn’t control it very well. He hoisted his staff over his head like a war club and rode toward the bowman, trying to strike him before he could loose his arrow.

Gorath crushed his opponent’s throat with the flat of his blade, and rose up to see James having difficulty with his man, while Owyn rode around flailing at the third with his staff. The bowman was so busy trying to keep from having his head stove in by Owyn’s staff he couldn’t stop long enough to shoot. He finally tossed down his bow and tried to draw his sword.

James saw Gorath standing uncertain of which way to move, and shouted, ‘Find the fourth one!’

Gorath was off without another word, moving around the corner to find the door of the barn open. Inside was darkness to confound the human eye, but to the dark elf it was a pattern of darkness and light, greys and darker greys. He saw movement in the rafters above and along one wall to his left. He waited.

A moment later the figure in the rafters slipped, causing some hay to fall, and the figure near the wall let fly with an arrow in the direction of the sound. Gorath charged. Before the Nighthawk could pull and fire again, the dark elf was upon him.

The struggle lasted mere seconds as Gorath quickly killed his man. Outside Jimmy bested his own and turned his attention to the one Owyn harried.

When the fighting was over, James and Owyn entered the barn and James said, ‘What’s here?’

Gorath pointed up to the rafters and announced, ‘Someone hides up there.’

James said, ‘Come down. We mean you no harm.’

A man lowered himself from the rafters, hanging by his hands a moment before releasing his hold and dropping to the dirt floor. He landed nimbly on his toes and looked at his rescuers. ‘Thanks,’ he said.

The man moved toward them and when he stopped a few feet away, Owyn said, ‘Gods!’

James looked at the man, who looked enough like him to be his twin. ‘You must be Lysle,’ said James.

‘Why do you assume that?’ asked the man.

‘Because people keep mistaking me for you,’ said James, moving around so he faced the door and the scant light from outside could strike his features. ‘It got me almost murdered by some unhappy folks up in Tannerus some months back.’

The man laughed. ‘Sorry, but they’re waiting for me to return with some items they sent me to purchase on their behalf. I’ve been distracted and am overdue in getting back there.’ He paused a moment, then said, ‘You do look enough like me to confuse people, it’s true. I’m Lysle Riggers.’

‘I’m James, from Krondor,’ came the reply. ‘These are my friends, Owyn and Gorath. We were on our way to Romney and when we were in Malac’s Cross an old woman thought I was you.’

‘Old Petrumh,’ said Lysle. ‘She’s a little crazy. She’s been that way since her husband died in a fire. Most of the folks in town give her something to eat or let her sleep in their barns. For some reason she’s taken to telling everyone she’s my gran.’ He shook his head.

‘Care to tell us why a bunch of Nighthawks are trying to kill you?’

‘Nighthawks?’ asked Riggers, shrugging. ‘Assassins? Can’t say as I would know why. Maybe they thought I was you.’

Gorath looked at James and said nothing. Owyn said, ‘Maybe –’

James cut him off. ‘No, someone wants you dead, Riggers. Let’s head into town and maybe by the time we get there you’ll remember why.’

The man looked at the three before him as if weighing the possibility of flight or resistance. Obviously discarding either as an option, he nodded. ‘Let’s go. The Wayside is a decent enough inn, and I could use an ale after all this.’

‘Check the bodies,’ said James. Gorath and Owyn went outside to do so. ‘You have anything you need to fetch?’ asked James.

Riggers said, ‘No. I had a sword, but lost it somewhere back in the woods running from those four. It wasn’t a very good one. I’ll take one off the dead outside.’

Moving outside, James said, ‘Fair enough.’

Owyn said, ‘They’re carrying nothing, James. No papers, no money, nothing. Just weapons and those black clothes.’

Gorath came over and said, ‘And these,’ as he held up a medallion with a hawk on it.

James took it, inspected it, and threw it to the ground. ‘These are the real Nighthawks,’ he said. ‘Not those frauds down in Krondor.’

‘Frauds?’ asked Riggers.

‘It’s a long story.’

‘Good,’ said Riggers. ‘That means a second ale. Let’s go.’ He set off toward the distant lights of the town, while the others mounted up.

Owyn rode next to Jimmy and said, ‘For a fellow who was about to be chopped up by assassins, he’s pretty cheerful.’

‘Yes, he is,’ said James.

They followed their new acquaintance into town.