Читать книгу A Darkness at Sethanon - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 11

JIMMY RACED DOWN THE HALL.

The last few months had been a time of growth for Jimmy. He would be counted sixteen years old the next Midsummer’s Day, though no one knew his real age. Sixteen seemed a likely guess, although he might be closer to seventeen or even eighteen years old. Always athletic, he had begun to broaden in the shoulders and had gained nearly a head of height since coming to court. He now looked more the man than the boy.

But some things never changed, and Jimmy’s sense of responsibility remained one of them. While he could be counted upon for important tasks, his disregard of the trivial once again threatened to turn the Prince of Kondor’s Court into chaos. Duty prescribed that he, as Senior Squire of the Prince’s court, be first at assembly, and as usual, he was likely to be last. Somehow punctuality seemed to elude him. He arrived either late or early, but rarely on time.

Squire Locklear stood at the door to the minor hall used as the squires’ assembly point, waving frantically for Jimmy to hurry. Of all the squires, only Locklear had become a friend to the Prince’s squire since Jimmy returned with Arutha from the quest for Silverthorn. Despite Jimmy’s first, accurate judgment that Locklear was a child in many ways, the youngest son of the Baron of Land’s End had displayed a certain taste for the reckless that had both surprised and pleased his friend. No matter how chancy a scheme Jimmy plotted, Locklear usually agreed. When delivered up to trouble as a result of Jimmy’s gambles with the patience of the court officials, Locklear took his punishment with good grace, counting it the fair price of being caught.

Jimmy sped into the room, sliding across the smooth marble floor as he sought to halt himself. Two dozen green-and-brown-clad squires formed a neat pair of lines in the hall. He looked around, noting everyone was where they were supposed to be. He assumed his own appointed place at the instant that Master of Ceremonies Brian deLacy entered.

When given the rank of Senior Squire, Jimmy had thought it would be all privilege and no responsibility. He had been quickly disabused of that notion. An integral part of the court, albeit a minor one, he was, when he failed his duty, confronted by the single most important fact known to all bureaucrats of any nation or epoch: those above were not interested in excuses, only in results. Jimmy lived and died with every mistake made by the squires. So far, it had not been a good year for Jimmy.

With measured steps and rustling red and black robes of office, the tall, dignified Master of Ceremonies crossed to stand behind Jimmy, technically his first assistant after the Steward of the Royal Household, but most often his biggest problem. Flanking Master deLacy were two purple-and-yellow-uniformed court pages, commoners’ sons who would grow up to be servants in the palace, unlike the squires who would some day be among the rulers of the Western Realm. Master deLacy absently tapped his iron-shod staff of office on the floor and said, ‘Just beat me in again, did you, Squire James?’

Keeping a straight face, despite the stifled laughter coming from some of the boys in the back ranks, Jimmy said, ‘Everyone is accounted for, Master deLacy. Squire Jerome is in his quarters, excused for injury.’

With weary resignation in his voice, deLacy said, ‘Yes, I heard of your little disagreement on the playing field yesterday. I think we’ll not dwell on your constant difficulties with Jerome. I’ve had another note from his father. I think in future I’ll simply pass these notes to you.’ Jimmy tried to look innocent and failed. ‘Now, before I go over the day’s assignments, I feel it appropriate to point out one fact: you are expected, at all times, to behave as young gentlemen. Toward this cause, I think it also appropriate to discourage a newly emerging trend, namely, wagering upon the outcome of barrel-ball matches played on Sixthday. Do I make myself clear?’ The question seemed to be addressed to the assembled squires, but deLacy’s hand fell upon Jimmy’s shoulder at that moment. ‘From this day forward, no more wagering, unless it’s something honourable, such as horses, of course. Make no mistake, that is an order.’

All the squires muttered acknowledgement. Jimmy nodded solemnly, secretly relieved he had already placed the bet on that afternoon’s match. So much interest among the staff and minor nobility had arisen over this game that Jimmy had been frantically trying to discover a way he could charge admission. There might be a high price to pay should Master deLacy discover Jimmy had already bet on the match, but Jimmy felt honour had been satisfied. DeLacy had said nothing about existing wagers.

Master deLacy quickly went over the schedule prepared the night before by Jimmy. Whatever complaint the Master of Ceremonies might have with his Senior Squire, he had none with the boy’s work. Whatever task Jimmy undertook he did well; getting him to undertake the task was usually the problem. When the morning duty was assigned, deLacy said, ‘At fifteen minutes before the second hour after noon, assemble on the palace steps, for at two hours after noon, Prince Arutha and his court will arrive for the Presentation. As soon as the ceremony is complete you are excused duty for the rest of the day, so those of you with families here will be free to stay with them. However, two of you will be required to stand ready with the Prince’s family and guests. I’ve selected Squires Locklear and James to serve that duty. You two will go at once to Earl Volney’s office and put yourselves at his disposal. That will be all.’

Jimmy stood frozen in chagrined silence for a long moment while deLacy left and the company of Squires broke up. Locklear ambled over to stand before Jimmy and said with a shrug, ‘Well, aren’t we the lucky ones? Everyone else gets to run around and eat, drink, and’ – he threw a sidelong glance at Jimmy and grinned – ‘kiss girls. And we’ve got to stick close to Their Highnesses.’

‘I’ll kill him,’ said Jimmy, venting his displeasure.

Locklear shook his head. ‘Jerome?’

‘Who else?’ Jimmy motioned for his friend to fall in as he walked away from the hall. ‘He told deLacy about the betting. He’s paying me back for that black eye I gave him yesterday.’

Locklear sighed in resignation. ‘We don’t stand a chance of beating Thom and Jason and the other apprentices today, with us both not playing.’ Locklear and Jimmy were the two best athletes in the company of squires. Nearly as quick as Jimmy, Locklear was second only to him among the squires in swordsmanship. Together they were the two best ball handlers in the palace, and with both out of the match, it was a near certain victory for the apprentices. ‘How much did you bet?’

‘All of it,’ answered Jimmy. Locklear winced. The squires had been pooling their silver and gold for months in anticipation of this match. ‘Well, how was I to know deLacy would pull this business? Besides, with all those losses we’ve had, I got five-to-two odds in favour of the apprentices.’ He had spent months developing a losing trend in the squires’ game, setting up this big wager. He considered. ‘We may not be out of it yet. I’ll think of something.’

Changing the subject, Locklear said, ‘You just cut it a little fine today. What held you up this time?’

Jimmy grinned, his features losing their dark aspect. ‘I was talking to Marianna.’ Then his features returned to an expression of disgust. ‘She was going to meet me after the game, but now we’ll be with the Prince and Princess.’ Accompanying his growth since last summer, another change in Jimmy had been his discovery of girls. Suddenly their company and good opinion of him were vital. Given his upbringing and knowledge, especially compared to those of the other squires in court, Jimmy was worldly beyond his years. The former thief had been making his presence known among the younger serving girls of the palace for several months. Marianna was simply the most recent to catch his fancy and be swept off her feet by the clever, witty and handsome young squire. Jimmy’s curly brown hair, ready grin, and flashing dark eyes had caused him to become an object of concern for more than one girl’s parents among the palace staff.

Locklear attempted to look uninterested, a pose that was quickly eroding as he himself became more often the focus of the palace girls’ attention. He was getting taller by the week, it seemed, almost as tall as Jimmy now. His wavy, blond-streaked brown hair and cornflower-blue eyes framed by almost feminine lashes, his handsome smile, and his friendly, easy manner had all made him popular with the younger girls of the palace. He hadn’t grown quite comfortable with the idea of girls yet, as at home he had only brothers, but being around Jimmy had already convinced him there was more to girls than he had thought back at Land’s End. ‘Well,’ Locklear said, picking up the pace of their walking, ‘if deLacy doesn’t find a reason to chuck you out of service, or Jerome doesn’t have you beaten by town roughs, some jealous kitchen boy or angry father’s likely to comb your hair with a cleaver. But none of them will have a prayer if we’re late to the chancery – because Earl Volney will have our heads on pikes. Come on.’

With a laugh and an elbow to the ribs, Locklear was off, with Jimmy a step behind as they ran down the halls. One old servant looked up from his dusting to watch the boys racing along and for a moment reflected on the magic of youth. Then, resigned to the effects of time’s passage, he returned to the duties at hand.

The crowd cheered as the heralds began their march down the steps of the palace. They cheered, in part, because they would now be addressed by their Prince who, while somewhat aloof, was well respected and counted evenhanded with justice. They cheered, in part, because they would see the Princess whom they loved. She was a symbol of continuation of an old line, a link from the past to the future. But most of all they cheered because they were among the lucky citizens not of the nobility who would be allowed to eat from the Prince’s larder and to drink from his wine cellar.

The Festival of Presentation was conducted thirty days following the birth of any member of the royal family. How it began remained a mystery, but it was commonly held that the ancient rulers of the city-state of Rillanon were required to show the people, of every rank and station, that the heirs to the throne were born without flaw. Now it was a welcome holiday to the people, for it was as if an extra Midsummer’s festival had been granted.

Those guilty of misdemeanours were pardoned; matters of honour were considered resolved and duelling was forbidden for a week and a day following the Presentation; all debts owing since the last Presentation – Princess Anita’s nineteen years ago – were forgiven; and for the afternoon and evening, rank was put aside as commoner and noble ate from the same table.

As Jimmy took his place behind the heralds, he realized that someone always had to work. Someone had to prepare all the food being served today, and someone had to clean up tonight. And he had to stand ready to serve Arutha and Anita should they require it. Sighing to himself, he considered again the responsibilities that seemed to find him no matter where he hid.

Locklear hummed softly to himself while the heralds continued to take up position, followed by members of Arutha’s Household Guard. The arrival of Gardan, Knight-Marshal of Krondor, and Earl Volney, acting Principate Chancellor, indicated the ceremonies were about to begin.

The grey-haired soldier, his black face set in an amused expression, nodded to the portly Chancellor, then signalled to Master deLacy to begin. The Master of Ceremonies’ staff struck the ground and the trumpeters and drummers sounded ruffles and flourishes. The crowd hushed as the Master of Ceremonies struck the ground again, and a herald cried, ‘Hearken to me! Hearken to me! His Highness, Arutha conDoin, Prince of Krondor, Lord of the Western Realm, Heir to the throne of Rillanon.’ The crowd cheered, though it was more for form than out of any genuine enthusiasm. Arutha was the sort of man who inspired deep respect and admiration, not affection, in the populace.

A tall, rangy, dark-haired man entered, dressed in muted brown clothing of fine weave, his shoulders covered with the red mantle of his office. He paused, his brown eyes narrow, while the herald announced the Princess. When the slender, red-headed Princess of Krondor joined her husband, the merry glint in her green eyes caused him to smile, and the crowd began to cheer in earnest. Here was their beloved Anita, daughter of Arutha’s predecessor, Erland.

While the actual ceremony would be quickly over, the introduction of nobles took a great deal longer. A cadre of palace nobles and guests was entitled to public presentation. The first pair of these was announced. ‘Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Salador.’

A handsome, blond man offered his arm to a dark-haired woman. Laurie, former minstrel and traveller, now Duke of Salador and husband to Princess Carline, escorted his beautiful wife to her brother’s side. They had arrived in Krondor a week before, to see their nephews, and would stay another week.

On and on droned the herald as other members of the nobility were introduced and, finally, visiting dignitaries, including the Keshian Ambassador. Lord Hazara-Khan entered with only four bodyguards, forgoing the usual Keshian pomp. The Ambassador was dressed in the style of the desert men of the Jal-Pur: cloth head cover that left only the eyes exposed, long robe of indigo over white tunic and trousers tucked into calf-high black boots. The bodyguards were garbed from head to toe in black.

Then deLacy stepped forward and called, ‘Let the populace approach.’ Several hundred men and women of varying rank, from the poorest beggar to the richest commoner, gathered below the steps of the palace.

Arutha spoke the ritual words of the Presentation. ‘Today is the three hundred tenth day of the second year of the reign of our Lord King, Lyam the First. Today we present our sons.’

DeLacy struck his staff upon the ground and the herald cried out, ‘Their Royal Highnesses, the Princes Borric and Erland.’ The crowd erupted into a near-frenzy of shouts and cheers as the twin sons of Arutha and Anita, born a month before, were publicly presented for the first time. The nurse selected to care for the boys came forward and gave her charges over to their mother and father. Arutha took Borric, named for his father, while Anita took her own father’s namesake. Both babies endured the public showing with good grace, though Erland showed signs of becoming fussy. The crowd continued to cheer, even after Arutha and Anita had returned their sons to the care of the nurse. Arutha graced those gathered below the steps with another rare smile. ‘My sons are well and strong, they are born without flaw. They are fit to rule. Do you accept them as sons of the royal house?’ The crowd shouted its approbation. Anita reflected her husband’s smile. Arutha waved to the crowd. ‘Our thanks, good people. Until the feasting, I bid you all good day.’

The ceremony was over. Jimmy hurried to Arutha’s side, as was his duty, while Locklear moved to Anita’s side. Locklear was formally a junior squire, but he was so often given duty with the Princess that he was commonly considered her personal squire. Jimmy suspected deLacy of wanting to keep himself and Locklear together so watching them would be that much easier. The Prince threw Jimmy a distracted half-smile as he watched his wife and sister fuss over the twins. The Keshian Ambassador had removed his traditional face covering and was smiling at the sight. His four bodyguards hovered close.

‘Your Highnesses,’ said the Keshian, ‘are thrice blessed. Healthy babies are a gift of the gods. And they are sons. And two of them.’

Arutha basked in the glow of his wife, who looked radiant as she regarded her sons in the nurse’s arms. ‘I thank you, my Lord Hazara-Khan. It is an unexpected benefit having you with us this year.’

‘The weather in Durbin is beastly this year,’ he said absently as he began to make faces at little Borric. He suddenly remembered his station and more formally said, ‘Besides, your Highness, we have a minor matter to finish discussing regarding the new border here in the West.’

Arutha laughed. ‘With you, my dear Abdur, minor details become major concerns. I have little love for the prospect of facing you across the negotiating table again. Still, I’ll pass along any suggestions you make to His Majesty.’

The Keshian bowed and said, ‘I wait upon Your Highness’s pleasure.’

Arutha seemed to notice the guards. ‘I don’t see your sons or Lord Daoud-Khan in attendance.’

‘They conduct the business I would normally oversee among my people in the Jal-Pur.’

‘These?’ said Arutha, indicating the four bodyguards. Each was dressed entirely in jet, even to the scabbards of their scimitars, and while their costuming was similar to that of the desert men, it was different from anything Arutha had seen of Keshians.

‘These are izmalis, Highness. They serve as personal protection, nothing more.’

Arutha chose to say nothing as the knot of people around the babies seemed about to break up. The izmalis were famous as bodyguards, the finest protection available to the nobility of the Empire of Great Kesh, but rumour had it they were also highly trained spies and, occasionally, assassins. Their abilities were nearly legendary. They were reputed to be everything just short of ghosts in their ability to come and go undetected. Arutha disliked having men only one step away from assassins within his walls, but Abdur was entitled to his personal retinue, and Arutha judged it unlikely the Keshian Ambassador would bring anyone into Krondor who might be dangerous to the Kingdom. Besides himself, Arutha added silently.

‘We shall also need to speak of the latest request from Queg regarding docking rights in Kingdom ports,’ said Lord Hazara-Khan.

Arutha looked openly amazed. Then his expression changed to one of irritation. ‘I suppose a passing fisherman or sailor just mentioned it to you as you disembarked at the harbour?’

‘Highness, Kesh has friends in many places,’ answered the Ambassador with an ingratiating smile.

‘Well, it will certainly do no good to comment on Kesh’s Imperial Intelligence Corps, for we both know that’ – Hazara-Khan joined in and they both spoke in unison – ‘no such group exists.’

Abdur Rachman Memo Hazara-Khan bowed and said, ‘With Your Highness’s kind permission?’

Arutha bowed slightly as the Keshian made his farewell, then turned to Jimmy. ‘What? You two scoundrels drew duty today?’

Jimmy shrugged, indicating it wasn’t his idea. Arutha noticed his wife instructing the nurse to return the twins to their nursery. ‘Well, you must have done something to warrant deLacy’s displeasure. Still, we can’t have you missing all the fun. I understand there’s supposed to be a particularly good barrel-ball game later this afternoon.’

Jimmy feigned surprise, while Locklear’s face lit up. ‘I think so,’ said Jimmy noncommittally.

Motioning the boys to follow as the Prince’s party began to head inside, Arutha said, ‘Well then, we’ll have to drop in and see how it goes, won’t we?’

Jimmy winked at Locklear. Then Arutha said, ‘Besides, if you boys lose that bet, your skins won’t be worth a tanner’s trouble by the time the other squires get through with you.’

Jimmy said nothing while they moved toward the great hall and the reception for the nobles before the commoners were admitted to the feast in the courtyard. Then he whispered to Locklear, ‘That man has an irritating habit of always knowing what’s going on around here.’

The celebration was in full swing, nobles mingling with those commoners granted admission to the palace courtyard. Long tables stood heavily laden with food and drink, and for many in attendance this was the finest meal they would eat this year. While formality was forgotten, the commoners were still deferential to Arutha and his party, bowing slightly and using formal address. Jimmy and Locklear hovered nearby, in case they were needed.

Carline and Laurie walked arm in arm behind Arutha and Anita. Since their own wedding, the new Duke and Duchess of Salador had settled down somewhat, in contrast to their well-reported and stormy romance at the King’s court. Anita turned toward her sister-in-law and said, ‘I’m pleased you could stay this long. It’s so much a man’s palace here in Krondor. And now with two boys …’

‘It’s going to get worse,’ finished Carline. ‘Being raised by a father and two brothers, I know what you mean.’

Arutha glanced over his shoulder at Laurie and said, ‘It means she was spoiled shamelessly.’

Laurie laughed, but thought better of comment as his wife’s blue eyes narrowed. Anita said, ‘Next time, a daughter.’

‘Then she can be shamelessly spoiled,’ said Laurie.

‘When are you going to have children?’ asked Anita.

Arutha turned from the table with a pitcher of ale, filling both his own and Laurie’s mugs. A servant hastened to present wine cups to the ladies. Carline answered Anita by saying, ‘We’ll have them when we have them. Believe me, it isn’t for lack of trying.’

Anita stifled a laugh behind her hand, while Arutha and Laurie exchanged glances. Carline looked from face to face and said, ‘Don’t tell me you two are blushing?’ To Anita she said, ‘Men.’

‘Lyam’s last missive said Queen Magda might be with child. I expect we’ll know for certain when he sends his next bundle of dispatches.’

Carline said, ‘Poor Lyam, always such a one for the ladies, having to marry for reasons of state. Still, she’s a decent sort, if a little dull, and he seems happy enough.’

Arutha said, ‘The Queen isn’t dull. Compared to you a fleet of Quegan raiders is dull.’ Laurie said nothing, but his blue eyes echoed Arutha’s comment. ‘I just hope they have a son.’

Anita smiled. ‘Arutha’s anxious for another to become Prince of Krondor.’

Carline looked at her brother knowingly. ‘Still, you’ll not be done with matters of state. With Caldric dead, Lyam will rely more upon you and Martin than before.’ Lord Caldric of Rillanon had died shortly after the King’s marriage to Princess Magda of Roldem, leaving the office of Duke of Rillanon, Royal Chancellor – First Adviser to the King – vacant.

Arutha shrugged as he sampled food from his plate. ‘I think he’ll find no end of applicants for Caldric’s office.’

Laurie said, ‘That’s exactly the problem. Too many nobles are seeking advantage over their neighbours. We’ve had three sizeable border skirmishes between barons in the East – not anything to have Lyam send out his own army, but enough to make everyone east of Malac’s Cross nervous. That’s why Bas-Tyra is still without a duke. It’s too powerful a duchy for Lyam to hand over to just anyone. If you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself named Duke of Krondor or Bas-Tyra should Magda give birth to a boy.’

Carline said, ‘Enough. This is a holiday. I’ll have no more politics tonight.’

Anita took Arutha’s arm. ‘Come along. We’ve had a good meal, there’s a festival underway, and the babies are blessedly asleep. Besides,’ she added with a laugh, ‘tomorrow we have to start worrying over how we pay for this festival and the Festival of Banapis next month. Tonight we enjoy what we have.’

Jimmy managed to insinuate himself next to the Prince and said, ‘Would your Highness be interested in viewing a contest?’ Locklear and he exchanged worried glances, for the time for the game to begin was past.

Anita threw her husband a questioning glance. Arutha said, ‘I promised Jimmy we’d go and see the barrel-ball match he’s conspired to have played today.’

Laurie said, ‘That might be more entertaining than another round of jugglers and actors.’

‘That’s only because most of your life has been spent around jugglers and actors,’ said Carline. ‘When I was a girl, it was considered the thing to sit and watch the boys beat each other to death in a barrel-ball game every Sixthday, while pretending not to watch. I’ll take the actors and jugglers.’

Anita said, ‘Why don’t you two go along with the boys? We’re all informal today. We’ll join you later in the great hall for the evening entertainment.’

Laurie and Arutha agreed and followed the boys through the throng. They left the central courtyard of the palace and passed along a series of halls connecting the central palace complex with outer buildings. Behind the palace stood a large marshalling yard, near the stables, where the palace guards drilled. A large crowd had gathered and was cheering lustily when Arutha, Laurie, Jimmy and Locklear arrived. They worked their way toward the front, jostling spectators. A few turned to complain to those shoving past but, seeing the Prince, said nothing.

A place was made for them behind those squires not playing. Arutha waved to Gardan, who stood on the other side of the field with a squad of off-duty soldiers. Laurie watched the play a moment and said, ‘This is a lot more organized than I remember.’

Arutha said, ‘It’s deLacy’s doing. He wrote up rules for the game, after complaining to me about the number of boys too beat up to work after a match.’ He pointed. ‘See that fellow with the sandglass? He times the contest. The game lasts an hour now. Only a dozen boys to a side at a time, and they must play between those chalk lines on the ground. Jimmy, what are the other rules?’

Jimmy was stripping off his belt and dagger in preparation. He said, ‘No hands, like always. When one side scores, it falls back past the midpoint line and the other side gets to bring the ball up. No biting, grabbing an opponent, or weapons allowed.’

Laurie said, ‘No weapons? Sounds too tame for me.’

Locklear had already rid himself of his overtunic and belt and tapped another squire on the shoulder. ‘What’s the score?’

The squire never took his eyes from play. A stableboy, driving the ball before him with his feet, was tripped by one of Jimmy’s teammates, but the ball was intercepted by a baker’s apprentice, who deftly kicked it into one of the two barrels situated at each end of the compound. The squire groaned. ‘That puts them ahead four counts to two. And we’ve less than a quarter hour to play.’

Jimmy and Locklear both looked to Arutha, who nodded. They dashed onto the field, replacing two dirty, bloody squires.

Jimmy took the ball from one of the two judges, another of deLacy’s innovations, and kicked the ball toward the mid-line. Locklear, who had stationed himself there, quickly kicked it back to Jimmy, to the surprise of the several apprentices who bore down upon him. Lightning-fast, Jimmy passed them before they could recover, ducking an elbow aimed at his head. He loosed a kick at the barrel’s mouth. The ball struck the edge and bounced out, but Locklear broke free of the pack and kicked the rebound in. The squires and a large number of minor nobles were on their feet cheering. Now the apprentices led by only one count.

A minor scuffle broke out and the judges quickly intervened. With no serious damage having been done, play resumed. The apprentices brought the ball up; Locklear and Jimmy fell back. One of the larger squires threw a vicious block, knocking a kitchen boy into the one with the ball. Jimmy pounced like a cat, kicking the ball toward Locklear. The smaller squire deftly moved it upfield, passing it on to another squire who immediately kicked it back as several apprentices swarmed over him. A large stableboy rushed Locklear. He simply lowered his head and took Locklear, himself, and the ball across the field boundary rather than trying to tackle the ball. At once a fight broke out and, after the judges had separated the combatants, they helped Locklear to his feet. The boy was too shaken to continue, so another squire took his place. As both players had been beyond bounds, the judge ruled the ball free and tossed it into the centre of the field. Both sides attempted to recover the ball as elbows, knees and fists flew.

‘Now this is how barrel-ball should be played,’ commented Laurie.

Suddenly a stableboy broke free, no one between himself and the squires’ barrel. Jimmy took off after him and seeing no hope of intercepting the ball, launched himself at the boy, repeating the technique used against Locklear. Again the judge ruled the ball free and another riot ensued at midfield.

Then a squire named Paul had the ball and began to move it toward the apprentices’ goal with unexpected skill. Two large baker’s apprentices intercepted him, but he managed to pass the ball seconds before being levelled. The ball bounced to Squire Friedric, who passed it to Jimmy. Jimmy expected another rush from the apprentices, but was surprised as they fell back. This was a new tactic, employed against the lightning passing Jimmy and Locklear had brought to the game.

The squires on the sidelines shouted encouragement. One yelled, ‘There’s only a few minutes left.’

Jimmy motioned Squire Friedric to his side, shouted quick instructions, and then was off. Jimmy swept to the left and then dropped the ball back to Friedric, who moved back toward midfield. Jimmy cut to his right, then took a well-aimed pass from Friedric toward the barrel. He dodged a sliding tackle and kicked the ball into the barrel.

The crowd shouted in appreciation, for this match was bringing something new to barrel-ball: tactics and skill. In what was always a rough game, an element of precision was being introduced.

Then another fight broke out. The judges rushed to break it up, but the apprentices were unbending in their reluctance to end the scuffle. Locklear, whose head had stopped ringing, said to Laurie and Arutha, ‘They’re trying to hold up the game until time runs out. They know we’ll win if we get another crack at the ball.’

Finally order was restored. Locklear judged himself fit enough to return and replaced a boy injured in the scuffle. Jimmy waved his squires back, quickly whispering instructions to Locklear as the apprentices slowly brought the ball up. They attempted the passing demonstrated by Jimmy, Friedric, and Locklear, but with little skill. They nearly kicked the ball out of bounds twice before regaining control of errant passes. Then Jimmy and Locklear struck. Locklear feigned a tackle toward the ball handler, forcing him to pass, then darted toward the barrel. Jimmy came sweeping in behind, the others acting as a screen, and picked up the badly passed ball, kicking it toward Locklear. The smaller boy took the ball and broke toward the barrel. One defender attempted to overtake him, but couldn’t catch the swifter squire. Then the apprentice took something from his shirt and threw it at Locklear.

To the surprised onlookers, it seemed the boy simply fell face down and the ball went out of bounds. Jimmy rushed to the side of his comrade, then suddenly was up and after the boy who was attempting to bring the ball onto the field. With no pretence of playing a game, Jimmy struck the apprentice in the face, knocking him back. Again a fight erupted, but this time several apprentices and squires from the two sides joined the fray.

Arutha turned to Laurie and said, ‘This could get ugly. Think I should do something?’

Laurie watched the fight pick up in tempo. ‘If you want a squire left intact for duty tomorrow.’

Arutha signalled to Gardan, who waved some soldiers onto the field. The seasoned fighting men quickly restored order. Arutha walked across the field and knelt next to where Jimmy sat, cradling Locklear’s head in his lap. ‘The bastard hit him in the back of the head with a piece of horseshoe iron. He’s out cold.’

Arutha regarded the fallen boy, then said to Gardan, ‘Have him carried to his quarters and have the chirurgeon examine him.’ He said to the timekeeper, ‘This game is over.’ Jimmy seemed on the verge of protesting, then seemed to think better of it.

The timekeeper called out, ‘The score is tied at four counts apiece. No winners.’

Jimmy sighed. ‘Nor losers, at least.’

A pair of guards picked up Locklear and carried him away. Arutha said to Laurie, ‘Still a pretty rough game.’

The former singer nodded. ‘DeLacy needs a few more rules before they start cracking heads.’

Jimmy walked back to where his tunic and belt lay while the crowd wandered off. Arutha and Laurie followed. ‘We’ll have another go, sometime,’ remarked the youngster.

‘It could be interesting,’ said Arutha. ‘Now that they know about that passing trick of yours, they’ll be ready.’

‘So we’ll just have to come up with something else.’

‘Well, then I guess it might be worthwhile to make a day of it. Say in a week or two.’ Arutha placed his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. ‘I think I’ll have a look at these rules of deLacy’s. Laurie’s right. If you’re going to be dashing pell-mell up and down the field, we can’t have you tossing irons at each other.’

Jimmy seemed to lose interest in the game. Something in the crowd caught his eye. ‘See that fellow over there? The one in the blue tunic and grey cap?’

The Prince glanced in the indicated direction. ‘No.’

‘He just ducked away when you looked. But I know him. May I go and investigate?’

Something in Jimmy’s tone made Arutha certain this was not another ploy to escape duty. ‘Go on. Just don’t be away too long. Laurie and I will be returning to the great hall.’

Jimmy ran off to where he last saw the fellow. He halted and looked about, then noticed the familiar figure standing near a narrow stairway into a side entrance. The man leaned against the wall, hidden in shadows, eating from a platter. He only glanced up when Jimmy approached. ‘There you are, then, Jimmy the Hand.’

‘No longer. Squire James of Krondor, Alvarny the Quick.’

The old thief chuckled. ‘And that also no longer. Though I was quick in my day.’ Lowering his voice so anyone else was unlikely to overhear, he said, ‘My master sends a message for your master.’ Jimmy knew at once something major was afoot, for Alvarny the Quick was the Daymaster of the Mockers, the Guild of Thieves. He was no common errand runner but one of the most highly placed and trusted aides of the Upright Man. ‘By word only. My master says that birds of prey, thought gone from the city, have returned from the north.’

A chill visited the pit of Jimmy’s stomach. ‘Those that hunt at night?’

The old thief nodded as he popped a lightly browned pastry into his mouth. He closed his eyes a moment and made a satisfied sound. Then his eyes were on Jimmy, narrowing as he spoke. ‘Sorry I was to see you leave us, Jimmy the Hand. You had promise. You could have been a power in the Mockers if you’d kept your throat uncut. But that’s water gone, as they say. To the heart of the message. Young Tyburn Reems was found floating in the bay. There are places near where smugglers used to ply their trade; one is a place that smells and is of little importance to the Mockers and, therefore, is neglected. It may be that is where such birds are hiding. Now then, there’s an end to the matter.’ Without further conversation, Alvarny the Quick, Daymaster of the Mockers and former master thief, sauntered off into the crowd, vanishing among the revellers.

Jimmy did not hesitate. He dashed back to where Arutha had been only a few minutes before and, not finding him, headed for the great hall. The number of people before the palace made it difficult to move quickly. Seeing hundreds of strange faces in the corridors suddenly filled Jimmy with alarm. In the months since Arutha and he had returned from Moraelin with Silverthorn to cure the stricken Anita, they had become lulled by the commonplace, everyday quality of palace life. Suddenly the boy saw an assassin’s dagger in every hand, poison in every wine cup, and a bowman in every shadow. Struggling past celebrants, he hurried on.

Jimmy darted through the press of nobles and other less distinguished guests in the great hall. Near the dais a clot of people were deep in conversation. Laurie and Carline were speaking with the Keshian Ambassador, while Arutha mounted the steps toward his throne. A band of acrobats was hard at work in the centre of the hall, forcing Jimmy to skirt the clearing made for them, while dozens of citizens looked on in appreciation. As he moved through the press, Jimmy glanced up at the windows of the hall, the deep shadows within each cupola haunting him with memories. He felt anger at himself as much as anyone. He above all others should remember what a menace could lurk in such places.

Jimmy darted past Laurie and reached Arutha’s side as the Prince sat on his throne. Anita was nowhere in sight. Jimmy glanced at her empty throne and inclined his head. Arutha said, ‘She’s gone to look in on the babies. Why?’

Jimmy leaned near Arutha. ‘My former master sends a message. Nighthawks have returned to Krondor.’

Arutha’s expression turned sombre. ‘Is this speculation, or a certainty?’

‘First, the Upright Man would not send whom he sent unless he counted the matter critical, needing quick resolution. He exposed one high in the Mockers to public scrutiny. Second, there is – was – a young gambler by name Tyburn Reems who was often seen about in the city. He had some special dispensations from the Mockers. He was permitted things few men not of our guild are permitted. Now I know why. He was a personal agent of my former master. Reems is now dead. My guess is the Upright Man was alerted to the possibility of the Nighthawks’ return and Reems was sent to discover their whereabouts. They are once again hidden somewhere in the city. Where, the Upright Man does not know, but he suspects somewhere near the old smugglers’ warren.’

Jimmy had been speaking to the Prince while glancing about the hall. Now he turned to look at Arutha and words failed him. Arutha’s face was a hard mask of controlled anger, almost to the point of a grimace. Several nearby had turned to stare at him. In a harsh whisper he said to Jimmy, ‘So it’s to begin again?’

Jimmy said, ‘So it would seem.’

Arutha stood. ‘I’ll not become a prisoner in my own palace, with guards at every window.’

Jimmy’s eyes roamed the hall, past where the Duchess Carline stood charming the Keshian Ambassador. ‘Well and good, but this one day your house is overrun with strangers. Common sense dictates you retire to your suite early, for if ever there was a golden chance to get close to you, it is now.’ His eyes kept passing from face to face, seeking some sign that something was amiss. ‘If the Nighthawks are again in Krondor, then they are in this hall or en route as night approaches. You may find them waiting between here and your own quarters.’

Suddenly Arutha’s eyes widened. ‘My quarters! Anita and the babies!’

The Prince was off, ignoring the startled faces about him, Jimmy at his heels. Carline and Laurie saw something was wrong and followed.

Within moments a dozen people trailed behind the Prince as he hurried down the corridor. Gardan had seen the hasty exit and had fallen in beside Jimmy. ‘What is it?’

Jimmy said, ‘Nighthawks.’

The Knight-Marshal of Krondor needed no further warning. He grabbed at the sleeve of the first guard he met in the hall, motioning for another to follow. To the first he said, ‘Send for Captain Valdis and have him join me.’

The soldier said, ‘Where will you be, sir?’

Gardan sent the man off with a shove. ‘Tell him to find us.’

As they hurried along, Gardan gathered nearly a dozen soldiers to him. When Arutha reached the door to his quarters, he hesitated a moment, as if fearful to open the door.

Pushing open the door, he discovered Anita sitting next to the cribs wherein their sons slept. She looked up and at once an expression of alarm crossed her features. Coming to her husband, she said, ‘What is it?’

Arutha closed the door behind him, motioning for Carline and the others to wait without. ‘Nothing, yet.’ He paused a moment. ‘I want you to take the babies and visit your mother.’

Anita said, ‘She would welcome that,’ but her tone left no doubt she understood there was more here than she was being told. ‘Her illness is past, though she still doesn’t feel up to travel. It will be a treat for her.’ Then she fixed Arutha with a questioning look. ‘And we shall be more easily protected in her small estate than here.’

Arutha knew better than to attempt to hide anything from Anita. ‘Yes. We again have Nighthawks to worry about.’

Anita came to her husband and rested her head against his chest. The last assassination attempt had nearly cost her life. ‘I have no fear for myself, but the babies …’

‘You leave tomorrow.’

‘I’ll make ready.’

Arutha kissed her and moved toward the door. ‘I’ll return shortly. Jimmy advises I keep in quarters until the palace is free of strangers. Good advice, but I must remain on public view a while longer. The Nighthawks think us ignorant of their return. We cannot let them think otherwise, yet.’

Finding humour amid the terror, Anita said, ‘Jimmy still seeks to be First Adviser to the Prince?’

Arutha smiled at that. ‘He’s not spoken of being named Duke of Krondor for nearly a year. Sometimes I think he’d be better suited than many others likely to come to that office.’

Arutha opened the door and found Gardan, Jimmy, Laurie, and Carline waiting. Others had been moved away by a company of the Royal Household Guard. Next to Gardan, Captain Valdis waited. Arutha told him, ‘I want a full company of lancers ready to ride in the morning, Captain. The Princess and the Princes will be travelling to the Princess Mother’s estates. Guard them well.’

Captain Valdis saluted and turned to issue orders. To Gardan, Arutha said, ‘Begin to slowly place men back at post throughout the palace and have every possible hiding place searched. Should any inquire, say Her Highness is feeling poorly and I am staying with her for a while. I’ll return to the great hall shortly.’ Gardan nodded and left. Then Arutha added to Jimmy, ‘I have an errand for you.’

Jimmy said, ‘I’ll leave at once.’

Arutha said, ‘What do you think you’re going to do?’

‘Go to the docks,’ said the boy with a grim smile.

Arutha nodded, again both pleased and surprised at the boy’s grasp of things. ‘Yes. If you must, search all night. But as soon as you can, find Trevor Hull and bring him here.’