Читать книгу The Riftwar Legacy: The Complete 4-Book Collection - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 21

WATER THUNDERED DOWN THE MOUNTAINSIDE.

James, Gorath and Owyn sat on their horses near the base of the falls. With a few days to fill in between their discussion with Ugyne and their coming supper with her father on Sixthday, James had decided to scout around. He had made sure the talkative Peter the Grey knew they were heading down the road on business, but as soon as they had cleared the precinct of Cavell Village, they had turned off the road to investigate Cavell Run.

The spray struck James as the wind shifted. ‘You used to play here?’ he asked Owyn.

‘No, not really.’ He pointed up the side of the mountain. ‘We used to play up there, in a pool, near the spot the bolt-hole exits the hillside.’

Gorath said, ‘My people’s children are not allowed to play unsupervised.’ With a note of contempt, he added, ‘But then you humans breed like fieldmice; if a child dies, you just have another.’

James threw him a black look. ‘It’s not quite that simple.’

Gorath asked, ‘So why are we here?’

James asked, ‘If you wanted to use the old run as a base of operations, would you want the Baron and his family up there?’

Owyn’s eyes widened. ‘You think the Nighthawks started the fire?’

James shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But it’s pretty convenient, and by harassing him, they keep the Baron from starting his rebuilding.’

They rode along the banks of the river toward the cliffs, and Gorath said, ‘I have fought these Nighthawks at your side, and you have mentioned them before, but I still do not understand their part in all this.’

James said, ‘It isn’t difficult; they’re a brotherhood of assassins who work for whoever pays their way. Mercenaries. I faced one on the roofs of Krondor when I was a boy and have faced them many times since then.

‘They were pawns of Murmandamus for a while and served with his Black Slayers.’

Gorath almost spat. ‘The Black Slayers were an obscenity! Men of no honour who gave over life and spirit to Murmandamus for promises of eternal power and glory! It is said by our lore keepers that those who did so will never join the Mothers and Fathers in the Life After.’

James turned his horse to follow around a small knoll, and said, ‘I must admit, I know little of you or your elven kin, Gorath, though I’ve fought the moredhel and spent time with the glamredhel and elves.’

Gorath said, ‘We dislike one another enough that we don’t like to talk about one another, it’s true, so I have no doubt you heard little good of us from the eledhel. The glamredhel are the mad ones, those without purpose and without magic. They lived by their wits and held strong in the Edder Woods in the Northlands until they were hunted down and destroyed.’

James shook his head. ‘Destroyed? They’ve gone to Elvandar and now reside there.’

Gorath reined in his horse. ‘Delekhan!’

‘What?’ asked James, turning to look at the dark elf.

‘He let it be known that he had destroyed Earnon and his tribe in the Edder.’

‘Well, Old King Redtree is alive and well, living up in Elvandar. Last I heard they were involved in some sort of discussion as to who was in charge.’

Gorath tilted his head, as if listening to something. ‘In charge? I do not understand.’

‘I don’t pretend I do, either,’ said James as they followed another bend in the road, and began approaching the waterfall. ‘Duke Martin is a regular visitor to Elvandar and sends reports to Krondor. As I understand it, Redtree and his people are trying to decide if they’re going to be part of Aglaranna’s people, or separate, but living among them. Something like that.’

‘It’s passing strange,’ said Gorath. ‘I would assume Aglaranna would enslave them had they come begging for refuge.’

James laughed.

‘You find that funny?’

‘I’ve met old Redtree and he doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to beg or to accept slavery without killing a couple of hundred people first.’

Gorath nodded. ‘He is a warrior of great skill and power.’

They could again feel the spray off the waterfall and James asked, ‘Owyn, where is the entrance?’

Owyn said, ‘We’ll have to tie the horses and walk from here.’

They did so, and as they reached a place beside the waterfall, where the spray was heavy enough to soak them in minutes, James said, ‘How many people knew of this entrance?’

‘A few, in my family, and among the staff. Ugyne and I, along with Neville, used to play there. We got beaten when we were caught, and I don’t think the Baron ever found out that we knew the entire route from the keep to the bolt-hole.’ He pointed to a rock a few feet above his head. ‘This is why no one in the village ever found their way into the keep. I need a leg up.’

James made a cup with his hand and gave Owyn a boost, and the young magician pulled himself to the ledge. He said, ‘Hand me my staff.’ They did, and he said, ‘Now, stand back.’

They stood away, and Owyn used his staff to move a rock. A rumbling caused James to move even farther back. A large rock face moved aside. Owyn jumped down with an ‘oof’ and stood up. ‘Getting out’s easy. There’s a lever just inside. Getting in is impossible if you don’t know the trick.’

James moved just inside the entrance and said, ‘Someone found the trick. Look.’

Dust had coated the entire length of the tunnel, but the middle of the tunnel showed clearly that many feet had trodden the floor recently. Gorath said, ‘As we move along this tunnel, we will soon lose the masking noise of the waterfall. Tread softly.’

James said, ‘We need a torch.’

Owyn said, ‘No, we don’t. I’ll make us some light.’

Owyn closed his eyes, then held out his hand. A sphere of soft light surrounded him, less than would have come from a torch, but enough for them to see by. ‘That’s handy,’ said James.

Owyn shrugged. ‘Until recently I didn’t know if I’d ever use it for anything more significant than finding my way to the jakes in the middle of the night.’

James grinned. ‘Let’s go.’

He pulled out his sword as did Gorath, and without a word they set off down the tunnel.

A soft tread of boot leather on stone was all Gorath needed to warn them. He held up his hand and listened, his more than-human hearing announcing the approach of someone. He turned and held up two fingers.

James nodded and motioned for Owyn to move back down the tunnel, taking his faint light with him, while he and Gorath waited in the gloom for whoever came toward them. A moment later a light could be seen down the hall, approaching rapidly. Voices echoed off the rock.

‘I don’t like it,’ said one.

‘You don’t have to like it. You only have to follow orders.’

‘There used to be a lot more of us, if you remember.’

‘I remember, but the fewer of us, the more gold –’

The two men turned the corner and Gorath and James leaped upon them. Catching them unexpectedly, James and Gorath had them down before they knew they were under attack.

But surprise didn’t mean surrender, and the two assassins fought like cornered animals, forcing Owyn to run forward with his staff and lay one low with a crushing blow to the head.

The other died upon his own knife, as James fell heavily atop the man.

James slowly rose, saying ‘Damn. I wanted a prisoner.’

Gorath said, ‘We are in their nest. It would be wise for us to leave now that we know where they are and return with soldiers.’

‘Wise, perhaps, but my experience with these birds is they will have flown by the time we return. They are never abundant in number, and quite a few have died recently. I doubt there are more than a half-dozen left between here and the Teeth of the World.’ James pointed a finger down the hall from where the two had come. ‘But if we identify or trap their leader, we may finally be done with this bunch.

‘I thought them dead and buried ten years ago, but obviously I was wrong. At the least one or two of them fled to start this murderous brotherhood again. Only fanatics kill themselves like that. I must find out if these are but hired blades working for whoever pays the most, or if they are willing allies of your Delekhan.’

‘What difference does it make when it’s Kingdom throats being cut?’ asked Gorath.

‘Men who work for gold are one thing. Men pledged to dark causes are another. If these are men working for gold, we can deal with them at leisure, for they will know little beyond where to pick up their gold and whom to kill. But if they are involved in these dark plots, perhaps we will learn something –’ he pointed down the hall ‘– down there.’

Gorath and Owyn exchanged glances, and Owyn said, ‘Well, I’d get bored out there waiting for you to come back.’ He held up his glowing ring. ‘Besides, I have the light.’

Gorath gave a grunt that might have passed for a chuckle.

For nearly half an hour they walked through a long tunnel, then Owyn said, ‘There’s a storage room ahead, if I remember.’

They found a large wooden door, still intact and well oiled, behind which was a barracks. A score of beds were lined up, ten against each wall, and racks of weapons occupied the far end of the room. Most of the beds hadn’t been slept in, but four showed recent occupation. Owyn pointed and whispered, ‘Those two we killed may have friends close by.’

‘Or they could already have left,’ said James.

They moved to the racks and saw that the weapons were polished and ready. A variety of lethal-looking blades were stored in orderly fashion, as well as daggers, throwing knives, darts and strangling cords. A shelf full of jars was attached to the wall above the rack. ‘Poisons, I’m willing to bet,’ said James. He looked at Owyn. ‘How much further do these tunnels go?’

‘Miles, if you mean all the levels. This is the lowest gallery, and there are three between this one and the basement of the old keep. Though I don’t think we could get there because of the caved-in wine cellar.’ He pointed to a door at the opposite end of the room. ‘Through there is another room like this one, and then stairs up.’

James went to the door and listened. Hearing nothing, he opened it and found another barracks, with twenty well-made empty beds. ‘No one has been here for a while,’ he observed.

‘Not quite true,’ said Gorath, pointing. ‘One pair of footprints. Heading that way.’ He indicated the far end of the room, where stone stairs rose up the wall to a hole in the ceiling. Next to the stairs was a bed left unmade, apart from the others. A huge wardrobe had been placed next to the bed, incongruous in its setting. It was made of highly polished wood with gilt trim, and when James opened it, clothing of expensive weave and boots of fine leather could be seen.

‘I’m willing to bet the leader of this band of cutthroats is the dandy who uses this bed.’ He looked around. ‘See if there’s anything here that might identify this fashion pate. I’m going to check the next floor.’

James hurried up the steps and discovered a large wooden door barred the way. It was attached to the stones by heavy hinges and a hasp with a lock. Locks had rarely proved a problem to the former thief, but this one was of ingenious design and James had fallen out of the habit of travelling with lockpicks. ‘Owyn, what’s up here?’

Owyn paused, as if searching his memory, then said, ‘It’s another storage room, smaller, but similar to this one, and then there’s a long tunnel leading back into the mountain.’

James came down the stairs. ‘Either our quarry is hiding something up there from his own men, or he’s fearful of someone stumbling into this lair from above.’

‘I doubt the second case,’ said Owyn. ‘Someone would have to get into the old keep, know how to activate the door from the armoury to the first tunnel, and besides, most of the upper passages were buried in the collapse of the old wine cellar.’

‘Then he’s keeping something under lock for his own reasons.’

‘Perhaps gold,’ suggested Gorath. ‘Assassins would have to be paid.’

James said, ‘There is that.’ He came down the stairs. ‘Find anything?’

‘Just this,’ said Owyn. He held out a book.

James took it and read the title on the first page. ‘The Abbot’s Journal,’ he read aloud. He flipped a few pages and said, ‘It’s a collection of stories about your uncle’s family, it seems.’ He handed it back to Owyn. ‘How did it get here?’

Owyn said, ‘I have no idea. It may have been lost when my uncle evacuated the keep after the fire, and someone combing the rubble above might have found it.’

‘Bring it along,’ said James. ‘I think I’ll do some reading before bed tonight.’

James led them back the way they had come.

James moved the beds and Gorath asked, ‘Is this some human custom of which I’m not aware?’

James grinned. ‘Unless there were no other Nighthawks around, someone is going to find it odd that two of their lads went missing. My best guess is Nighthawks don’t usually go absent without permission. So it’s not unlikely that whoever discovers they are gone might decide to come see if we three had something to do with it.’

Once he had the beds crowded against the door, he said, ‘If they act as usual, one or more of them will come through that window while the rest come in that door. They’ll come fast, through the outer door and up the stairs before Peter the Grey can get out of bed to find out what’s causing all the noise. If they work as planned, by the time old Peter gets through the kitchen and up these stairs he’ll find three bodies here and an open window.’

Owyn said, ‘If they come.’

James grinned. ‘Oh, they’ll come. We’re the only newcomers in the area who’ve been hanging around, visiting the Baron, asking questions. I just don’t know if they’ll come tonight or tomorrow night.’ James turned the lamp down low, enough so he could read, sat down next to the lamp on the floor, and opened the book he had had Owyn carry back from Cavell Run.

Owyn produced a second book and said, ‘I might as well put this time to good use, as well. I’ve neglected this too long.’

‘What is it?’ asked Gorath.

‘My book of magic.’

‘You wrote a book?’ asked the dark elf.

‘No, it’s a book each student keeps, recording thoughts, discoveries, and notations of things observed or learned.’ He produced a quill and a tiny vial of ink. ‘When Nago almost hit me with that spell he threw, I sensed something, and, well, it’s hard to explain, but I’m puzzling out how he did it. I think with some more study I can do it.’

James looked up. ‘What does it do?’

‘If I’m right, it should immobilize the person struck, maybe more.’

‘More?’ asked James, now very interested.

‘I think it might eventually kill the victim.’

Gorath, said, ‘If it immobilizes, what does it matter? You just pull out your dagger and walk up and cut his throat.’

Owyn said, ‘I guess. When I was at Stardock, the teachers didn’t delve too deeply into violent applications.’

James yawned. ‘Which is wise. It wouldn’t do to have a bunch of you youngsters wandering around that island tossing off fireballs and blasts of lightning at each other. The tavern brawls would be pretty impressive in the carnage they left behind.’

Owyn laughed. ‘Maybe you’re right. Some of the students were twice my age. I think magic takes a long time to master.’

James said, ‘If one ever does master it.’

‘I heard Pug was a true master,’ said Owyn.

James yawned again. ‘I’ve seen him do some pretty impressive things,’ he admitted through his yawn. ‘Mercy, but this waiting is trying on the nerves.’

‘Then get some sleep,’ said Gorath. ‘I’ll watch.’

Owyn asked, ‘Do you know Pug well?’

‘We met a few times,’ said James. ‘Why? Didn’t you meet him at Stardock?’

‘No, I saw him from time to time, with his family, but he spends most of his time in his tower or off away from Stardock. Most of the teaching is done by others. I met him only that one time in Krondor, briefly, when his daughter was trying to read Gorath’s mind.’

‘I’ve never met the girl, though I hear she’s a nice kid,’ said James, as he thumbed through the book. ‘Her brother Willie’s a good lad. He’s training to be an officer in Arutha’s guard.’

‘Hmmm,’ said Owyn, and James glanced over to see the young magician lost in his notes.

James looked through the book in his lap again for nearly a half hour. ‘This is the most improbable collection of accounts and … outright fabrications I’ve ever encountered.’

Owyn looked up. ‘What do you mean?’

‘There’s lists of births and deaths, as if someone sat down one day and told this Abbot Cafrel the Cavell family history in one sitting, then suddenly we’re talking about missing treasure, swords of incredible magic power, and curses.’

‘Sounds interesting,’ said Gorath, who was trying to be polite.

James laughed. ‘I agree,’ he said, putting aside the book. ‘You watch and I’ll sleep. Wake me in two hours.’

James curled up and Owyn studied, and Gorath watched the window, his hand resting on his sword.

They came the next night. James had again been reading the Cavell family history and Owyn was meditating on the bed, his eyes closed as he was developing a method of casting the spell Nago had used on him. Gorath lay sleeping on the floor, having elected to sit the later watch.

One moment James was reading, and the next he was moving, his sword coming out of his scabbard. Owyn was shot forward by two heavy bodies hitting the other side of the door as the window shutters exploded inward. An assassin had tied a rope to the roof beam and swung out, so he could crash feet first through the wooden shutters into the room.

He caught James full in the chest and the squire flew backwards into Gorath. Owyn came up on his knees, then fell back out of the way of a sword blow, while behind him someone was trying to force the door open.

Owyn had been halfway through constructing the spell in his mind when suddenly letters of fire seemed to burn in his mind’s eye. He raised his hand and pointed it at the assassin who was again raising his sword. An evil purple-grey sphere, black veins of energy dancing across its surface, leaped from his hand, striking the assassin in the face. The man froze as if suddenly transformed into purple stone, blue sparkles of energy dancing across the surface of his body. A faint moan of pain escaped his lips.

James was up and ran to the window, thrusting his sword through it as another man tried to swing in. The second Nighthawk was impaled on the blade and fell into the stable yard below, striking the stones with a sickening wet thud.

Gorath regained his footing and threw his weight against the door. He shouted, ‘Do we try to hold the door?’

James said, ‘When I yell, jump back and pull that last bed with you.’

Owyn was staring at the entranced assassin in wide eyed wonder. ‘It worked!’ he whispered.

James struck the ensorcelled man as hard as he could across the back of the head with the flat of his sword and he crumpled to the ground, the energy around him vanishing. ‘Can you do it again?’

‘I don’t know!’

‘Then get out of the way! Gorath, now!’

Gorath did as he was told, and Owyn grabbed the bed and pulled it away as well. The other two beds began to slide away from the door.

‘If I know my Nighthawks,’ said James. ‘I suggest you duck … now!’

Both men did so as James fell to the floor. The door burst open and two crossbow bolts flew into the room and vanished out the window. James instantly jumped atop the bed Gorath and Owyn had just moved. He bounced off the bed and crashed into the two men closest to the door, sending them through the railing of the stairs to the floor below. He slid over the edge of the landing, barely avoiding a fall by grabbing a part of a shattered post. His sword went clattering to the floor below, as an astonished and shocked Peter the Grey entered the room from behind the bar. ‘What?’

James looked up from where he hung to see a Nighthawk standing over him, sword raised high. The assassin’s eyes went round as Gorath ran him through with his sword. The last Nighthawk tumbled over James to the floor below, landing at Peter’s feet.

‘Oh, my word!’ said the innkeeper. ‘My word!’

James hung by one hand and said, ‘If it wouldn’t be too much trouble …’

Gorath’s powerful hand seized him by the wrist and hauled him up to the landing. James said, ‘Thank you,’ and hurried down the stairs, rubbing his sore shoulder. ‘I’m getting too old for that sort of thing,’ he observed.

‘What is going on?’ asked Peter.

James knelt next to the last assassin and began searching the body. ‘These men tried to kill us,’ he answered calmly. ‘We didn’t let them.’

‘Well …’ said the innkeeper. ‘Well … I …’ After a moment, he said, ‘Well,’ one more time.

James said, ‘Get somebody in here to clean up the mess, Peter. Else your customers may be put off their meals.’

The innkeeper turned and hurried off to do as he was bid. Instructions like that he understood. To Owyn, James said, ‘You’d better go get your uncle and explain to him that we’ve just removed most of the Nighthawks who were stalking him.’

Owyn said, ‘I think he might not even object too much to being awakened in the middle of the night for that bit of news.’

After Owyn left, Gorath said, ‘I noticed you said, “most of the Nighthawks who were stalking him”.’

James stood up, after having found nothing useful on the bodies. ‘We still have one Nighthawk to go, I think. At least one who matters.’

‘The leader?’

‘Yes.’

‘And how do you propose to find him?’

‘I don’t,’ said James with a satisfied smile. ‘He will find us. And I think it will be this weekend when a certain chess player arrives to pay court to Owyn’s cousin.’

Gorath considered that, then nodded. ‘He’s a logical suspect, but how will you prove it? Accuse him in public?’

‘Unlike your people, where I suspect an open challenge of honour carries some weight, this is a man whose honour is non-existent. He is one who lurks in shadows and kills from behind trees. He would only deny an accusation.’

‘So then how do you get him to confess? Torture?’

James laughed. ‘I’ve always considered torture to be of dubious benefit. Fanatics will die with a lie on their lips, and an innocent man will condemn himself to stop the pain.’

‘I have found that torture, applied judiciously, can yield interesting results.’

‘No doubt,’ said James, with a look of mixed amusement and alarm.

Peter the Grey returned with his stable man and two workers, all of whom lost their sleepy slowness when they saw the bodies. ‘Take them out back and burn the bodies,’ instructed the innkeeper. As they complied, he looked at the shattered balcony railing and asked, ‘Who will pay for this?’

James dug out a gold coin and said, ‘I will. If I find the man behind this, I’ll recover my gold from him. No need for you to bear the burden of the cost.’

‘Thank you,’ said Peter, greatly relieved.

Owyn returned with his uncle behind him, dressed in his nightclothes with a large cloak around his shoulders. He was still barefoot. ‘You’ve killed the Nighthawks?’ he asked.

James said, ‘I’m certain we’ve stamped out most of them in the area.’

Baron Corvallis was almost beside himself with glee. Then his mood turned darker. ‘Most?’

‘There’s some business I think needs to be finished by Sixthday, then I think you’ll be safe from the Guild of Assassins, m’lord.’

Corvallis said, ‘Owyn, you couldn’t have awakened me for better cause.’ To James he said, ‘I must pen a missive to Arutha, commending you to him for your good works this day.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said James, ‘but I’ll be sending my own report to the Prince.’

‘No false modesty, my boy.’ He put a fatherly hand on James’s shoulder. ‘You must take praise where it comes. You might not be a squire all your life. Who knows, with a friend in court, and with recommendations such as mine, why some day you might rise to the rank of baronet or even baron!’

James grinned. ‘One never knows.’

‘Well, then,’ said the Baron, turning toward the door. To Peter he said, ‘Provide these gentlemen with whatever they need.’ To Owyn he said, ‘I can’t tell you how pleased I am. I look forward to your company on Sixthday.’

He hurried out, and Owyn asked, ‘What now?’

James looked at the mess and said, ‘I think some sleep is in order.’

He retrieved his sword from where it had landed, cleaned it off on the tunic of the last dead Nighthawk, and as Peter the Grey returned to the commons, said, ‘Master Grey, there’s another dead one up in our room. Please remove it as well.’

‘Oh, my word!’ said the innkeeper.

‘He’s here,’ said Owyn, hurrying into the room. Gorath and James had been resting on their beds, trying to relax after the fury of the night before.

James said, ‘You’re certain it’s him?’

‘Dandy, wearing fine clothing, and Ugyne is riding behind him with her head on his shoulder, just to annoy her father.’

‘That’s our man,’ said James. ‘Let him find us already half drunk.’

They hurried downstairs to an empty commons, and found things ready as James had requested. A chessboard had been set up and James had positioned the men as he wanted. Several empty tankards had been left nearby, and he signalled for Peter to bring over three half-filled.

Owyn sat opposite James and said, ‘I hope you don’t expect me to comment on this game. I have no idea what I’m looking at.’

‘Good,’ said James, ‘because your part is to do nothing but look confused.’

Owyn’s brow furrowed as he said, ‘Well, I can do that with conviction.’

The door opened a short while later and Ugyne came in, almost skipping, leading by the hand a person who could only be Navon du Sandau. He was what James expected: tall, dressed in black with a white scarf around his neck. He wore a neatly trimmed pointed beard, a golden earring with a large diamond, and several golden chains which hung down his chest. He walked easily, with his left hand upon his sword hilt. James noted that while the hilt of the sword was decorative too, it was well worn, and the blade was almost certainly sharp and well-oiled. It was a rapier, and the only other man James knew who preferred the rapier as a weapon of choice was the Prince of Krondor. Light and agile, the rapier was a deadly weapon in the hands of a master, but in the hands of a novice, it was an easy way to get killed.

James had no doubt that Navon was a master. As Ugyne approached she said, ‘Owyn, I have someone I want you to meet.’

Owyn looked up and said, ‘Good. You can save me from humiliation.’

Ugyne introduced Owyn, James and Gorath, and said, ‘This is my friend, Navon du Sandau.’

James nodded, doing his best imitation of a man who had started drinking early. He nodded slightly to Owyn who said, ‘I think I should resign.’

With a smile, du Sandau said, ‘Don’t resign. Your position is difficult, but not hopeless.’

Owyn looked at James who again nodded slightly and Owyn said, ‘Would you care to take over? I’m out of my depth.’

Navon said, ‘If James doesn’t mind?’

James shrugged. ‘By all means. It was simply a friendly game; no stakes.’

Owyn stood up and stepped aside and Navon took his place. He studied the board and said, ‘My move?’

James nodded. ‘It’s black’s move.’

Navon studied the board and moved exactly as James had expected. James knew Navon was almost certainly a far better chess player than he was, but he had positioned the pieces as they had been during a game with the Keshian ambassador, Lord Abdur Rachman Memo Hazara-Khan, only he had been in Navon’s position then. The ambassador had taken great pains to explain James’s mistake to him after the match and the game was etched in James’s memory. Navon had moved exactly as Lord Hazara-Khan had told James he should have moved in that long-ago game.

Ugyne showed Owyn a silver locket with a tiny emerald in it. ‘See what Navon brought me?’

Owyn nodded appreciatively and watched the match. Both men took great pains to consider every option before they moved. After three moves James was convinced that should this game run its course, Navon would eventually win. Only by starting from a position of dominance was he able to appear competent enough to keep Navon’s interest.

Gorath stood up, as if bored, and moved toward the door. ‘I’ll be back shortly,’ he said to no one in particular.

This was Owyn’s cue, and he said, ‘Oh, Ugyne, do you remember that odd book on the family?’

‘Which book?’ asked the girl.

‘The one with all those strange stories in it. You showed it to me when we were little. It was written by some cleric.’

‘Oh!’ she said, her eyes wide. ‘You mean The Abbot’s Journal! Yes, I do. It’s funny, but I lent it to Navon here, a while ago, so he could learn about the family.’

Owyn said, ‘Oh, I was hoping to read something in it I remembered from when I was a boy.’

James studied his opponent. If he was paying attention to the exchange behind him, he was a master of control. Not a twitch or flinch or even the slightest urge to turn and look at Owyn was evident. He was fixed upon the board before him.

Owyn asked, ‘Navon, do you have the book with you?’

‘What?’ he asked, looking over. ‘Book?’

‘The family journal,’ said Ugyne. ‘I lent it to you a month ago.’

‘Oh, that,’ he said offhandedly. ‘I left it at home. I’ll return it next week.’

James nodded slightly, and Owyn returned the nod. He went to his backpack, which was on the floor behind Navon and withdrew the journal from the pack. He put the book upon the table next to the board.

Suddenly Navon rose, overturning the table as he did so, knocking James on his back. He threw an elbow at Owyn’s chin, stunning the young magician.

Ugyne shrieked in alarm, and said, ‘Navon! What is it?’

The man grabbed her by the wrist and turned her arm behind her back. He held her before him as he began backing toward the door. James came to his feet with his sword drawn, and saw Navon retreating. ‘Stand back or I’ll kill her,’ he shouted, drawing his sword.

Ugyne shouted, ‘You bastard!’ and stepped down as hard as she could on his instep. While he hopped backward, she twisted away.

James reached out as quickly as possible and yanked the girl free, sending her sprawling toward Owyn, who caught her.

Navon glanced backward and said, ‘I suppose your elf friend is standing outside the door.’ He circled away from the door, putting his back to the wall.

James advanced, sword at the ready. ‘Put that down and we’ll have a chat. There are some questions that must be answered.’

Navon said, ‘The instant I set eyes on you, I knew you were trouble. You look like that bastard Lysle Riggers down in Malac’s Cross.’

James grinned. ‘I’ve been told that before.’

Navon said, ‘I assume you are the bunch who killed my men.’

‘Sorry we couldn’t accommodate them in their mission,’ said James, ‘but I have work yet unfinished.’

Navon leaped forward and lashed out with his blade and James parried. He knew he faced a master swordsman. The only comfort he took was that he had spent ten years practising with the best swordsman in the Kingdom. The exchange was quick: parry, counter, thrust and parry, and both men moved back.

‘Well done,’ said Navon, a note of honest appreciation in his voice. ‘I don’t suppose you could see your way clear to just backing away and letting me get to my horse.’

‘Too many secrets, Navon. Or should I say Neville.’

Ugyne screeched, ‘Neville!’

Navon’s eyes widened slightly and a look of concern crossed his face. ‘Say what you will, James of Krondor. Soon it won’t matter.’ He launched another attack: a low, high, low combination that drove James back and almost got him killed as he tried to counter and Navon changed his line of attack.

James managed to avoid a lunge, getting inside Navon’s extension and almost cutting him in return. After the two furious exchanges, both men stood dripping with perspiration, and knew they faced an accomplished opponent.

Owyn moved Ugyne away from the struggle, toward the kitchen, and said, ‘Stay out of the way.’

‘But your friend called him Neville. What is he saying?’

‘What he’s saying, dear sister,’ said James’s opponent, ‘is you have been gulled into thinking I was dead.’

‘Sister!’ shrieked Ugyne, resisting Owyn’s attempts to get her out of the way. ‘My brother’s dead!’

‘I’ll explain everything, after I kill your friend here.’

The fight continued. Every move was met by a counter, and every riposte was parried. The two men fell into a rhythm and each waited for the other to make a mistake. After another two minutes, James knew that’s what it would come down to: whoever made the first mistake would die.

Back and forth they fenced, as fine a display of swordsmanship as had ever been seen in Cavell. Owyn tried to move to a place he might help James, but the movement of the two men was so precise and fluid, so quick and deadly, he hesitated lest he inadvertently cause his companion’s death.

James’s hair hung limply, drenched with sweat. He crouched low, sword ready, awaiting the next attack. The man known as Navon said, ‘You’re very good. Both chess and swordsmanship. A rare combination.’

‘I had good teachers,’ said James, using the pause to catch his breath. He studied every move of his opponent, waiting for some hint of what was to come next.

Navon stood motionless, also catching his breath. James was tempted to press the attack, then realized that was his opponent’s tactic. As if to demonstrate the point, Navon let his sword point lower slightly, as if fatigue was making him sloppy. James calculated the odds of using this to his advantage. He said, ‘I learned chess from the ambassador from Great Kesh.’

Navon smiled. ‘Hazara-Khan! I would love to play him. I have heard he may be the best in the world.’

‘Put down your sword, and I’ll see if I can arrange a match. Of course, you’ll have to play in the dungeon in Krondor,’ and with that last word, James launched an intentionally poor attack, and as he suspected, Navon’s response was fast and deadly. Only James’s swift reflexes saved him.

Navon grinned. ‘Close.’

‘I’ve had closer,’ said James, now sure of his opponent’s abilities.

‘Who taught you the sword?’

James started another bad attack, a high line with his sword hilt higher than the point, so that it appeared he was attempting to stab downward. Navon responded exactly as James had expected, and had James leaped back as most men would in that position, Navon would have skewered him. Instead, James leaned forward, his left hand touching the floor, allowing Navon’s blade to pass over his back, actually cutting through the cloth of his tunic from shoulder down to mid-back. James rolled his wrist, bringing the point of his sword under, then up and Navon ran onto the point.

As the leader of the Nighthawks stood stunned in astonished silence, James said, ‘I learned the sword from Prince Arutha.’

James pulled free the point of his sword and Navon collapsed to his knees. For a moment he stared at James with his eyes full of questions, but then life fled from them and he fell forward to strike the floor.

James put up his sword and knelt to examine Navon. ‘He’s dead,’ said the squire.

Ugyne stood behind the bar, next to Peter the Grey, and demanded shrilly, ‘What is going on?’

James stood up and said, ‘We’ll explain everything, but right now I need Owyn to go get your father. There’s a mystery still to be unravelled.’

As Owyn ran to the door, James shouted, ‘And watch out –’

Owyn opened the door, and Gorath unloaded a blow to the face that sent the young magician flying back into the room.

‘– for Gorath,’ finished James. He rose and crossed to where Owyn lay unconscious. Shaking his head, James turned to Ugyne and said, ‘Could you please get your father, miss?’

The girl ran off to do as bid, and Peter the Grey came over and said, ‘Pardon me, sir, but … well, I don’t know any other way to say this: I really must ask you to leave.’

James looked at the mild-mannered innkeeper and laughed. ‘I understand.’

A pale-faced Baron Corvallis arrived as they were hauling away the body of the man named Navon. James said, ‘M’lord, we have a mystery to unravel.’

The Baron said, ‘What is all this?’

Ugyne said, ‘He called Navon “Neville”, Father.’

If the Baron had looked wan when he arrived, what remaining colour had been in his face drained and he looked as if he might faint. ‘Neville?’

James indicated the Baron should sit, and said, ‘My lord, there’s been murder done, not just recently, but years ago. Tell me about du Sandau and the wine cellar.’

The Baron put his hand over his eyes and leaned forward, and for a moment James thought he was weeping, but when he pulled his hand away at last, James saw mostly relief in his eyes. ‘He was your brother, Ugyne. That is why I was so adamant about your not seeing him. He was courting you to enrage me.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said the girl.

James said, ‘Neville was your brother.’ He looked at the Baron. ‘But he was not your father’s son.’

The Baron’s colour rose and he nodded, looking as if he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

James said to the girl, ‘I did some snooping around. There are always those willing to gossip. It seems the man your father hired, Sandau, was a sculptor as well as a mason. He was reputed to have a way with the ladies. According to one of the old women I talked with, he was a big, handsome man, with a flamboyant nature, the type who appeals to some women.’

The Baron’s face flushed.

Ugyne said, ‘My mother was unfaithful?’

James said, ‘It has been known to happen.’

She looked at her father as if he was a stranger. ‘You had Sandau killed?’

‘I arranged for an accident,’ he said weakly. ‘I didn’t know it would get so out of hand. The cave-in killed a half-dozen men. And, I thought, Neville.’ Looking as if he was growing angry, the Baron said, ‘I didn’t know the boy was going to be down there!’ He slapped the table. ‘I tried to treat him fairly.’ Looking at Ugyne, he said, ‘Your mother and I never talked about it after I found out. I tried to raise the boy as my own.’

She stood up and said, ‘I don’t know you.’ She backed away a few steps. ‘I don’t know you at all.’ She turned and ran from the inn.

James said, ‘Baron, we have pressing business, but this will all be mentioned in my report to the Prince of Krondor. I suggest you take a trip to see your liege lord in Romney, and perhaps the King as well. To both of them you owe a complete confession and I think you need to put your affairs in order. I doubt the King will permit you back as Baron. I might also suggest you send Ugyne to stay with Owyn’s family for a while.’

Owyn regained consciousness and said, ‘What happened?’

Gorath helped him to his feet. ‘I was expecting someone else. Sorry.’ The last actually sounded sincere.

Owyn rubbed his swelling jaw. ‘I’ll be all right.’ He looked around. ‘What happened?’

‘I’ll tell you on the way.’

‘On the way where?’ asked Owyn.

James produced a key he had taken off of Navon. ‘Back to Cavell Run.’

When the door was again open, James said, ‘I knew that only a family member would be able to know how to trigger that door from the outside,’ as Owyn jumped down from the ledge. ‘If the other children in the village couldn’t find it, Navon du Sandau from Kenting Rush wasn’t going to blunder up here and find his way into the run.

‘So, I asked a few questions and got the clues I needed,’ he said as they walked back into the dark tunnel. Owyn produced another light with his magic and James continued. ‘We’ve met the Baron. It doesn’t take much imagination to see the Baroness attracted to a flamboyant, handsome man, even if he’s a common mason. So Neville is conceived.

‘The Baron finds out he’s not the father, and he and his wife agree not to discuss it, but every day he sees the boy and is reminded of the betrayal.

‘So, after a decade of daily insult to his manhood, he decides to lure the betrayer up to the run, rig an accident, and extract his revenge. Unfortunately, the boy was watching the work being done when the accident happened.’

Owyn said, ‘And I wasn’t here, and Ugyne couldn’t open the entrance by herself from outside.’

‘And perhaps the Baron himself didn’t realize there was an outside trigger. I don’t know and mostly I don’t care. He killed at least four men and will have to be tried for that.’

They reached the barracks and headed for the stairs to the door with the lock. ‘Neville somehow found his way out of the run. I suspect he was either injured, terrified, or both. We will never know how or why, but somehow he got out and lived. Someone found him and he survived. It might have been the Nighthawks, or he might have come to them later. It may be that a bright young and talented lad like Neville might have seized the opportunity to take control of the Nighthawks when Arutha all but stamped them out in Krondor, ten years ago. It would have been the right time for survivors of that destruction to have been seeking sanctuary in an out-of-the-way place like the run.

‘They changed his appearance enough so it wasn’t apparent to those who knew the boy that he was the same person. Some people change dramatically between eleven summers and twenty-two. Or maybe they used some magic. As I’ve said, we’ll never know. But we do know there were relationships that Neville inherited, between the Nighthawks, the moredhel and the Pantathians.’

Gorath almost spat at the last. ‘Damn snakes and their hot land magic. I can’t abide them.’

‘But Murmandamus counted them useful,’ said James, not knowing that Murmandamus had actually been a Pantathian in disguise, magically altered to look like a moredhel.

He reached the lock and used the key he had taken from Navon. The key turned and the lock opened, and James pushed up on the trap door. It swung away and he mounted the steps and found himself in private quarters. He quickly glanced through the single door and found another barracks, empty and unused for years. But the small room contained chests with gold, gems and documents.

James ignored the gems and gold, and quickly read through documents.

After a moment, he said, ‘Damn me!’

‘What?’ asked Owyn.

‘Northwarden. Delekhan is attacking through Northwarden.’

Gorath said, ‘Why?’

James was silent for a moment, holding up his hand to fend off questions while he thought. ‘It makes sense. That’s why all this murderous insanity has been under way.

‘If Delekhan overruns Northwarden, he can come down the River Vosna; it runs along the northern foothills of the Calara Mountains, and runs through Mastak Gorge. From there it’s only a short portage to the headwaters of the River Rom. After that, he’s only days from Romney. Romney!’ He looked at Owyn and Gorath. ‘That’s why all the troubles in Romney. He needs a city in chaos so it can’t mount resistance.’

‘Why Romney?’ asked Owyn.

‘Because from there he takes the River Rom south and where it turns back toward the southeast he lands and marches overland to Sethanon. There’s nothing but open plain and light woodlands by that route.’

Owyn said, ‘And by burning the keep at Cavell and occupying the run –’

‘– he prevents anyone from occupying a strong position behind his lines,’ finished James.

He stood up and hurried down the steps. ‘We must leave now.’

Gorath and Owyn hurried after. ‘Where are we going?’

‘I’m heading for Northwarden,’ answered James, ‘to warn Baron Gabot of the attack. You need to take these documents to Arutha.’ He handed three rolled-up parchments to Owyn.

‘Arutha?’ Owyn shook his head. ‘Unless we use your Tsurani orb, it’ll take us weeks to return to Krondor.’

‘He’s not in Krondor, so the orb is of no use,’ said James as they reached the waterfall exit. ‘He’s encamped within the northern edge of the Dimwood with a large portion of his army, waiting for word on where the attack is staging, so he can rush to support. He can be within sight of Tyr-Sog, Highcastle, or Northwarden within a week of getting word.’

‘So you want us to tell him to come to Northwarden.’

‘Yes,’ said James, as he scrambled down wet rocks to where the horses were tied.

‘What if he doesn’t believe us?’ asked Gorath. ‘He seemed dubious about my claims when last we met.’

‘Far less dubious than he appeared,’ said James. ‘Let me advise you never to play cards with the Prince. In any event, if he expresses doubts, tell him, “There’s a Party at Mother’s”. That way he’ll know the message is from me.’

Owyn said, ‘Odd, but we will.’

‘James,’ said Gorath, ‘if the Prince is in the Dimwood, so will be the advanced elements of Delekhan’s forces. If the final goal is Sethanon, many of my people will have filtered down through the small gullies and passes in the Teeth of the World and will be readying things for the advancing army next spring.’

‘Well do I know,’ said James. ‘I remember when we evacuated Highcastle and rode across the High Wold and down through the Dimwood.’

‘What if we’re captured or killed?’

Mounting his horse, James said, ‘I have one thing to say to that.’

‘What?’ asked Owyn.

‘Don’t be,’ said James, turning his horse and riding off.

Owyn mounted and said, ‘Let’s stop so I can see Ugyne safely on her way to my parents, and we’ll get some food.’

Gorath said, ‘That would be wise.’

Owyn said, ‘Then that’s about the only wise thing about this plan.’