Gently he pushed
upward, peeking through the tiny crack made by the rising door.
Directly before his nose was a pair of boots, crossed at the ankles.
Jimmy froze. When the feet didn’t move, he pushed the trap an
inch higher. The feet in the boots belonged to a nasty-looking
customer who was sound asleep, a half-empty bottle clutched tightly
to his chest. From the cloying odour in the room, Jimmy knew the man
had been drinking paga - a potent brew, heavily spiced and laced with
a perfume-sweet mild narcotic, imported from Kesh.
Jimmy chanced a
quick glance about. Aside from the sleeping sentry the room was
empty, but faintly heard voices came from the single door in the
nearby wall.
Jimmy drew a
silent breath and noiselessly emerged from the trap, avoiding
touching the sleeping guard. He moved with a single step to the door
and listened. The voices were faint. A tiny crack in the wooden door
allowed Jimmy” to peek through.
He could see
only the back of one man and the face of another. From the manner in
which they were speaking, it was clear there were others in the room
as well, and from the sound of movement, some number of them, perhaps
a dozen. Jimmy glanced about and nodded to himself. This was the
headquarters of the Nighthawks. And these men were Nighthawks, beyond
doubt. Even if he hadn’t seen the ebon hawk on the man he had
killed, those in the next room were nothing like the common folk of
Fish Town.
Jimmy wished he
could better scout the building, for there were at least a half-dozen
other rooms, but the restless sounds of the sleeping man alerted the
former thief that time was quickly running out. The false Prince
would be inside the Palace soon, and while Jimmy could run down the
streets whereas the false Arutha had to slog through the sewers, it
would be a close thing who would be at the palace first.
Jimmy quietly
left the door and moved back to the trap. He gently lowered it
overhead. As he reached a point halfway between the trap and the
sewer, he heard voices from directly overhead. “Matthew!”
Jimmy’s
heart leaped as the other voice said, “What!”
“If you’ve
drunk yourself asleep, I’ll have your eyes for dinner.”
The other voice
answered irritably, “I only closed my eyes for a minute, just
as you walked in, and don’t threaten me or the crows will have
your liver.”
Jimmy heard the
trap being lifted, and without hesitation swung himself around to the
side of the ladder. He hung in midair, only one hand and boot on the
small rungs as he flattened himself against the wall, barely holding
on to scant hand- and footholds in the rough stones. He trusted his
black clothing in the gloom - and the fact the eyes of those above
would take time to adjust to the darkness of the sewer - to hide him.
A light was shone from above and Jimmy averted his face, the only
part of him not black, and held his breath. For a long, terror-filled
moment he hung in space, arm and leg burning with fatigue with the
strain of holding himself motionless. Not daring to look upward, he
could only imagine what the two Nighthawks above might be doing. Even
at this moment they could be drawing weapons. A crossbow could be
aiming at his skull and in an instant he could be dead, his life
blotted out without warning. He heard feet scuffling about and
laboured breathing above where he hung and then a voice said, “See?
Nothing. Now, leave it, or you’ll be floating with the other
garbage.”
Jimmy almost
flinched when the trap was slammed close above him. He silently
counted to ten, then quickly scampered down the ladder to the water
and moved off.
With the
bickering voices fading behind, Jimmy headed towards Teech’s
Tannery, and the way back to the palace.
The night was
half over, but the celebration was still in full swing. Jimmy hurried
through the palace, ignoring the startled people he passed. This
apparition in black was a most uncommon sight. He was battered, an
angry lump decorating his visage, and he reeked of the sewer. Twice
Jimmy asked the guards about the Prince’s whereabouts and was
informed the Prince was en route to his private quarters.
Jimmy passed a
startled pair of familiar faces as Gardan and Roald the mercenary
stood speaking. The Knight-Marshal of Krondor looked tired from a
long day yet unfinished and Laurie’s boyhood friend looked
half-drunk. Since returning from Moraelin, Roald had been a guest in
the palace, though he still refused Gardan’s constant offer of
a place in Arutha’s guard. Jimmy said, “You’d
better come along.” Both took the boy at his word and fell into
step. Jimmy said, “You won’t believe what they’re
up to this time.” Neither man had to be told who ‘they’
were. Gardan had just informed Roald of the Upright Man’s
warning. And both men had faced the Nighthawks and Black Slayers of
Murmandamus at Arutha’s side before.
Rounding the
corner, the three found Arutha about to open the door to his
quarters. The Prince halted, waiting for the three to come close, an
expression of open curiosity on his face.
Gardan said,
“Highness, Jimmy’s discovered something.”
Arutha said,
“Come along. I have a few things I must attend to at once, so
you’ll have to be brief.”
The Prince
pushed open the door and led them through the antechamber to his
private council room. As he reached for the door, it opened.
Roald’s
dark eyes widened. Before them stood another Arutha. The Prince in
the door looked at them, saying, “What . . .?” Suddenly
both Aruthas were drawing weapons. Roald and Gardan hesitated; what
their eyes told them was impossible. Jimmy watched as the two Princes
engaged each other in combat, the ‘second’ Arutha, the
one who had come from within, leaping back into the council chamber,
gaining room to fight. Gardan shouted for guards and in a moment a
full dozen were approaching the door.
Jimmy watched
closely. The resemblance was uncanny. He knew Arutha as well as he
knew anyone else in the Palace, but while the two men fought a
furious duel, he couldn’t tell them apart. The impostor even
fought with the same skill with the blade as the Prince. Gardan said,
“Seize them both.”
Jimmy shouted,
“Wait! If you grab the wrong one first, the impostor may kill
him.” Gardan instantly countermanded his own order.
The two
combatants thrust and parried, moving about the room. Each man’s
face was set in a mask of grim determination. Then Jimmy raced across
the room, no hesitation marking his lunge for one of the men.
Striking out with his dirk, Jimmy knocked him backward. Guards
flooded into the room, seizing the other combatant as Gardan ordered.
The Knight-Marshal was uncertain what Jimmy was doing, but he was
taking no chances. Both men would be held until the matter was sorted
out.
Jimmy grappled
on the floor with one of the Aruthas, who struck out with a backhand
blow, stunning Jimmy and knocking him aside. That Arutha began to
rise to his feet, then halted as Roald levelled his sword point at
the man’s throat. The man on the floor shouted, “The
boy’s gone mad. Guards! Seize him!” Then, as he rose, he
clutched at his side. His hand came away covered in blood. The man
looked pale and began to wobble. He appeared on the verge of
fainting. The other Arutha stood quietly, enduring the restraining
hands of the guards.
Jimmy shook his
head, clearing it from the effects of the second serious blow of the
day. Seeing the condition of the wounded man, Jimmy yelled, “
“Ware a
ring!”
As the boy
spoke, the wounded man placed his hand before his mouth, and as Roald
and a guard seized him, he slumped down, unconscious. Roald said,
“His royal signet is false. It’s a poison ring such as
the others wore.”
The guards
released the real Arutha who said, “Did he use it?”
Gardan inspected
the ring. “No, he passed out from his wound.”
Roald said, “The
likeness is unbelievable. Jimmy, how’d you know?”
“I saw him
in the sewers.”
“But how
did you know he was the impostor?” asked Gardan.
“The
boots. They’re covered in muck.”
Gardan looked at
Arutha’s polished black boots and the impostor’s
mud-encrusted pair. Arutha said, “It’s a good thing I
didn’t take a walk through Anita’s newly planted garden
today. You’d have had me in my own dungeon.”
Jimmy studied
the fallen impostor and the real Prince. Both men wore the same cut
and colour of clothing. Jimmy said to Arutha, “When we came
through the door, were you with us or already in the room?”
“I entered
with you. He must have come into the palace with the late celebrants
and simply walked into my quarters.”
Jimmy agreed.
“He hoped to catch you here, kill you, dump your body in one of
the secret passages or down the sewer, and take your place. I don’t
think he could have maintained the charade long, but if only for a
few days he could have bollixed things up around here to a
fare-thee-well.”
“You’ve
done well one more time, Jimmy.” He asked Roald, “Will he
live?”
Roald examined
him. “I don’t know. These lads have a bothersome habit of
dying when they shouldn’t, then not staying dead when they
should.”
“Get
Nathan and the others. Take him to the east tower. Gardan, you know
what to do.”
Jimmy watched
while Father Nathan, a priest of Sung the White and one of Arutha’s
advisers, examined the assassin. Each person who was admitted to the
tower selected to house the prisoner was astonished at the likeness.
Captain Valdis, a broad-shouldered man who had been Gardan’s
chief lieutenant and had succeeded him as head of Arutha’s
guard, shook his head. “No wonder the lads did nothing but
salute when he walked in the palace, Highness. He’s your exact
double.”
The wounded man
lay tied to the bedposts. As before when a Nighthawk had been
captured, he had been stripped of his poison ring and any other
possible means of committing suicide. Nathan stood away from the
prisoner’s side. The stocky priest said, “He’s lost
blood and his breathing’s shallow. It would be touch and go
under normal circumstances.”
The royal
chirurgeon nodded agreement. “I’d say he’d make it,
Highness, if I hadn’t seen their willingness to die before.”
He looked out the window of the room as the morning light began to
pour through. They had worked for hours repairing the damage done by
Jimmy’s dirk.
Arutha
considered. The last attempt at interrogating a Nighthawk had
produced only an animated corpse who had killed several guards and
had almost murdered the High Priestess of Lims-Kragma and the Prince
himself. He said to Nathan, “If he regains consciousness, use
what arts you can to discover what he knows. If he dies, burn the
body at once.” To Gardan, Jimmy, and Roald he said, “Come
with me,” and to Valdis, “Captain, double the guards at
once, quietly.”
Leaving the
heavily guarded room, he led his companions toward his own quarters.
“With Anita and the babies safely on their way to her mother’s,
I need only worry about rooting out these assassins before they find
another way to reach me.”
Gardan said,
“But Her Highness hasn’t left yet.”
Arutha spun.
“What? She bade me goodbye at first light an hour ago.”
“Perhaps,
Sire, but it seems a thousand details are still left. Her baggage was
only loaded a little while ago. The guards have been ready for two
hours, but I don’t think the carriages have left yet.”
“Then
hurry and make sure they’re safe until they’ve gone.”
Gardan ran off
and Arutha, Jimmy, and Roald continued on their way. Arutha said,
“You know what we face. Of all here, only those of us who were
at Moraelin truly know what sort of enemy stands behind this. You
also know it is a war without quarter, until one side or the other
ends in utter defeat.”
Jimmy nodded, a
little surprised at Arutha’s tone. Something in this latest
attack had touched a nerve. Since Jimmy had known the Prince, Arutha
had always been a cautious man, careful to consider all the
information at his disposal in making the best judgments he was able.
The only exception Jimmy had witnessed had been when Anita lay
injured by Laughing Jack’s errant crossbow bolt. Then Arutha
had changed. Now, as when Anita was nearly killed, he again seemed a
man on the edge of possession, a man full of rage at this invasion of
his sanctum. The well-being of his person and his family was in
jeopardy and he showed a barely controlled killing rage toward those
responsible.
“Find
Trevor Hull again,” he told Jimmy. “I want his best men
ready to move after sundown tonight. Have him come with Cook as soon
as possible. I’ll want plans made with Gardan and Valdis.
“Roald,
your task is to keep Laurie busy today. He’s sure to tumble
something’s amiss when I don’t hold court this afternoon.
Keep him preoccupied with something, perhaps with a visit to old
haunts in the city, and keep him away from the east tower.”
Jimmy looked surprised. “Now that he and Carline are married,
I’ll risk only one member of her family. He’s just
foolish enough to want to come along.”
Roald and Jimmy
exchanged glances. Both anticipated what the Prince planned for
tonight. Arutha’s expression became thoughtful. “Go on,
I’ve just remembered something I need to discuss with Nathan.
Send word when Hull’s returned.” Without further
discussion, they headed off to their appointed tasks while Arutha
returned to the room to speak with the priest of Sung.
A
rmed
men stood ready.
Krondor was
still celebrating, for Arutha had proclaimed a second day of
festival, with the weak explanation that as there were two sons,
there should be two days of Presentation. The announcement had been
greeted with enthusiasm by all in the city save the palace staff, but
Master of Ceremonies deLacy had quickly got things under control.
Now, with the celebrants still crowding inns and alehouses, as the
festive mood of the day before seemed to increase, the passing of
many men - seemingly off duty, upon one errand or another, not
acknowledging one another - was scarcely noticed. But by midnight
they had gathered in five locations: the common room of the Rainbow
Parrot Inn, three widely scattered warehouses controlled by the
Mockers, and aboard the
Royal Raven
,