Jimmy and the Crawler

by Raymond E. Feist

  He tried to turn and felt agony rip up his left side. A soft hand pushed gently on his shoulder, firmly forcing him back down. A fog seemed to lift from his mind and at last he recognized the face above him. ‘Jazhara?’

  The Prince of Krondor’s magic-advisor smiled. ‘Welcome back. We were worried.’

  She was a woman of medium height and solid build, though her figure tended to curves and her legs were elegantly tapered. By any measure she was attractive, and she had a no-nonsense attitude that discouraged James’s usual tendency to try to disarm ladies with practised flirtation.

  The voice behind James said, ‘If Sheriff Means hadn’t fetched you here quickly, Squire, I think you might finally have left us.’

  The disapproving tone brought recognition even though the speaker was still out of James’s line of sight. ‘Ah, Master Reynolds, again I am in your debt.’

  The face of an older man moved into view, hovering over Jazhara’s shoulder. It was William, lieutenant of the prince’s household guard and son of the magician Pug.

  ‘Help me sit up,’ begged James, and Jazhara piled some pillows up behind him so that he could look around the room. As the last effects of the sleeping draught the chirurgeon had given him before sewing him up wore off, pain returned. He winced as he settled into the pillows.

  ‘I’ve sent for the prince,’ said William, walking into view. The young soldier had matured greatly since entering the prince’s service and had become James’s unofficial partner in crime. James’s best friend, Squire Locklear, had been banished to the northern frontier of Yabon as punishment for a transgression involving the wife of an influential man at court. James had thought more than once that women would be the death of Locklear.

  William was a different sort, something of a romantic idealist. Taller by half a head than his father Pug, he looked like the icon of the loyal prince’s soldier: broad shoulders, resolute expression, brown eyes that gazed unflinchingly upon danger. James often tried to get his goat with a barbed remark, but William would have none of it. He was as stalwart a man as James had ever met, and the former thief actually enjoyed that fact about William.

  James sighed as he shifted position, glancing from Jazhara to William. William had obviously been in love with Jazhara before arriving in Krondor, from when they had been students together at Stardock. His attempt to get over her had led to a romance with a local innkeeper’s daughter, who had come to grief. He had suffered greatly over Talia’s death. In James’s judgment Cousin Willy, as he was known to Arutha’s family, had succumbed to Talia’s charms more because she was crazily in love with him rather than he with her. She had been beautiful, vivacious and a flirt, but once she met Willy, all other boys and men had been forgotten. For most men it would have been difficult to resist. But once Jazhara appeared in the city . . .

  James understood the story. He hid it well, but William still cared deeply for Jazhara, or James knew nothing at all.

  For his part, James avoided romance. He didn’t trust women. More to the point, he didn’t trust men. He trusted individuals, and after Chirurgeon Reynolds had departed, it occurred to him that the two remaining in the room were second only to Prince Arutha in earning his trust. Jazhara was new to the court and a Keshian by ancestry, but she had been a staunch ally who had faced deadly danger without flinching. Without her participation in the affair with the pirate Bear and the recovery of the Tear of the Gods, James and William might now both be dead and the hidden enemies behind that artefact’s theft might even now be planning to unleash chaos upon every man, woman, and child in the Kingdom.

  For a moment the wry thought passed through James’s mind that despite their efforts to remain platonic, William and Jazhara were not done with each other. He just hoped, with some apprehension, that things didn’t get too awkward or interfere with more pressing concerns.

  Now Prince Arutha arrived. He too bore that expression James had come to know so well: the one that was set halfway between concern and wry amusement. ‘Almost got yourself killed, again, I see.’

  He had changed since James had first met him as a boy, back when he had foiled the Nighthawks’ first of many attempts on the prince’s life. The youthful whipcord body had broadened a little, and palace life had put a few more pounds on Arutha, but he was still a man of slender frame and as fast an opponent with a sword as James had ever encountered.

  ‘Occupational hazard,’ James said, sitting up a little straighter. ‘I do recall, Highness, more than one occasion when you were less than prudent when it came to staying out of harm’s way.’

  With a grimace, Arutha echoed James’s last statement. ‘Occupational hazard, indeed. However,’ he added, ‘I find myself bleeding considerably less frequently than you do, James.’

  James’s grin expanded. ‘Well, in fairness, you don’t get out as much as you used to. A few days of bed rest and I should be good as new, Highness.’

  ‘We can’t afford the time, I’m afraid. I’m sending to the Temple of Sung to fetch in a healing priest. You get one day to sleep off whatever horrible concoction you’re forced to drink, then you’re back out there the next day.’ His expression darkened as he said, ‘I do read the reports coming in from Jonathan Means and Captain Garruth, Jimmy. Along with what you’ve told me, it looks as if we may have something far more sinister going on here in Krondor than a simple struggle for supremacy between rival criminal gangs.’

  He turned to leave, then paused. ‘You three did well – very well, actually – with that situation up the coast, so I’m inclined to grant you latitude if you think you need it.’ Pointing his finger at James, he added, ‘As long as you don’t get yourself killed.’

  James noticed he avoided mentioning the Tear of the Gods directly.

  Arutha continued, ‘I think it’s time to put the three of you back together. Willy, I’ll inform Duke Gardan you’re on detached duties for a while, so you’d best go do whatever you need to do until James is well enough to wreak havoc in your life. Jazhara, do your best to keep the boys out of trouble, please?’

  She couldn’t hide her smile as the prince departed for his private apartment.

  ‘Great,’ said James, lying back on the pile of pillows. ‘A magic healing draught.’

  Jazhara smiled. ‘I know little about clerical magic: the temples are very guarded about their craft.’

  James shifted a little, trying not to groan or wince as he sought a slightly more comfortable position. ‘They have their secrets, it’s true. Some of the temples are downright hostile if you intrude into what they see as their territory, but I’ve come across a few clerics who are decent company on a long ride. I think the prince is trying to make a point, as if suffering these injuries isn’t enough of a reminder of the danger of some of my choices . . .’ his voice rose a little in annoyance, ‘. . . so I need to choke down a foul concoction to drive the point home.’

  ‘The point being?’ asked Jazhara.

  ‘To be more bloody careful in the future,’ said James with a wince. He sighed a little dramatically. ‘It’s not like the prince can’t afford the magic. He just wants me to suffer.’

  William couldn’t help himself from bursting out laughing, which brought a black look from James. ‘Some of the temples have magic that will heal you up and leave no scar, even yank you back from the verge of death.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Some are rumoured to be able to yank you back from the other side of the verge, if the gold is right. There are stories of wealthy men who have made generous contributions to the temple of Sung the Pure, and they have mysteriously returned to health and vigour after a terrible illness or otherwise mortal wounds in battle.’

  William smiled, knowing that James was embellishing his tale for dramatic effect. ‘Then why,’ he asked, feigning ignorance, ‘didn’t His Highness simply ask a priest to pop over in the first place and wave away your wounds, rather than putting good Chirurgeon Reynolds through such toil?’

  ‘To save gold,’ said James with a straight face
. ‘Our master is a thrifty man, Willy. And he has an evil sense of humour. The healing draught is the most foul-smelling concoction known to man, and this from a fellow who grew up living in the sewers!’

  Jazhara put her hand over her mouth and tried not to laugh, but failed. ‘I thought you said he was making a point.’

  ‘Well, that too,’ replied James.

  ‘Really? You’re serious? To save gold?’

  ‘Really,’ said James. ‘Now, you two go off and let me sleep until the good father arrives. Even with the draught I’ll be useless unless I get a good night’s sleep.’

  William and Jazhara glanced at one another and then made to leave. At the door William turned. ‘If you need anything—’

  James was already fast asleep.

  ‘How do you feel this morning?’

  ‘I might be a fair match for a three-day-old kitten, Willy,’ said James, his eyes surrounded by dark circles.

  Jazhara made a face and William said, ‘What?’

  ‘Only James here and the prince call you “Willy”.’

  ‘It’s the boys,’ said James. ‘Borric and Erland grew up calling him “Cousin Willy”, and Squire Locklear and I picked it up.’

  ‘No one else,’ said William. He shrugged as if it was of no importance.

  ‘I find it less than respectful. “Willy” sounds like a kitchen knave’s name!’ She shook her head slightly. ‘You will never hear me call you that.’

  James laughed, then winced. He moved his arm on his injured side as if trying to stretch out the muscle.

  ‘Did the healing draught not work as intended?’ asked Jazhara.

  James stifled a yawn. ‘My side is fair, if a bit tender to the touch, but otherwise as good as new. No, it’s the other effect of the draught . . . suffice to say I was back and forth to the garderobe many times last night. Sleep came in bits less than an hour long.’ Finally the yawn escaped. ‘Sorry,’ he said, covering his mouth with his hand. ‘A good night’s sleep and I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Then you’ll get one tonight,’ said a voice from behind. The three turned to see Prince Arutha entering the office from the door that led to the royal family’s apartment. He waved them to sit down as he pulled out the chair from behind his own desk. ‘I have been reconsidering reports from various sources around the Western Realm, and I think we may have discovered a thing or two . . .’ He raised his eyes to James and added, ‘. . . despite your incapacity. We do manage to muddle along without you.’

  James could feel his colour rising while Jazhara and William worked hard to contain their amusement. James was not shy about voicing his opinions on how the business of the Western Realm was conducted, most of which was far outside his area of responsibility or expertise. Yet Arutha indulged him more often than not, and both knew to some degree it was due to the affection in which he held his squire, as well as the fact that James had proved his value well and often. His life had hung in the balance more than once, and he had been an effective agent for the Kingdom since coming to Krondor. Moreover, James possessed a uniquely keen intelligence. Arutha was grooming him for greater responsibility in the future.

  The prince was silent for a moment, framing his next remark. James was used to these silences: Arutha was always precise in what he chose to say. Finally the prince said, ‘James, I’m releasing you from your office. Find another lad to do those things you leave for other lads to do, anyway. I’m giving up on the notion that you’re anyone’s idea of a squire. You’ll have a new letter of marque tomorrow. You’re a knight of the court as of this morning.’

  He turned to William. ‘I’ve already told Gardan I’m going to need you away from the garrison, so you’ll be holding your rank of lieutenant in the royal household guard, but reporting directly to me only. Is that understood?’

  Unable to hide his surprise, William replied, ‘Yes, Highness.’

  ‘You three work well together, and I think I’m going to need your full combined attention on this Crawler business. So, beginning tomorrow, your task is to discover this miscreant’s identity and bring him to justice. Everything else is secondary. Understood?’

  All three of them nodded. ‘Good,’ said Arutha. ‘James, go get some sleep.’

  James hesitated, then realizing he was dismissed, stood and said, ‘Thank you, Highness.’

  ‘Don’t thank me yet, Jimmy,’ said Arutha. ‘With greater rank comes greater responsibility.’ As James turned, Arutha added, ‘And more chances to get yourself killed.’

  James hesitated for a bare moment, then continued out of the door.

  Arutha looked from Jazhara to William and back. ‘I don’t know what went on between you at Stardock and I prefer to keep it that way. I don’t intrude into the lives of my court officers unless their behaviour reflects poorly on my court, or hampers their service. I expect you both to deal with whatever difficulties may lie between you.’ He sat back, steepling his fingers. ‘James is a young man of prodigious talent, and he has ambition. If I don’t keep him on a short leash he’ll get himself killed, but too short a leash makes him ineffective; so you two will be my leash when you’re gone from the city.’

  ‘Gone, Highness?’ asked William.

  ‘It is almost certain, given what we already know, that you three will soon be on your way to Kesh.’

  Jazhara nodded. ‘Since the night of my arrival, much of what I have seen involving criminal activity in Krondor has involved Keshians.’

  ‘Not all your countrymen in my city can be your great uncle’s agents, Jazhara.’ Then Arutha revealed one of his rare smiles. ‘Though on occasion I’m inclined to think they all may be. Abdur may be the cleverest man I’ve ever encountered.’ He stood up, and they rose a moment after. ‘I must return to my other duties. You two keep a close watch on James. He may end up running this nation some day, and I suspect he’ll do a masterful job, so don’t let him get killed before that. Understood?’

  Then without another word, he turned and left them standing in his office.

  They exchanged glances and then, silently, departed.

  Jazhara waited until they were halfway between the prince’s private rooms and the great hall before she said, ‘What is it he has heard?’

  William shrugged. ‘Gossip, no doubt. His Highness keeps a close watch on everything. Rarely is anything undertaken in Krondor or the principality without his being aware of it. Your arrival was anticipated by many, for you are a novelty.’ He studied her face, one he knew in every detail from their short-lived romance.

  Being a few years older than William, Jazhara had still been young enough not to understand the difference between their feelings for one another until it was too late. She loved him after a fashion, and had enjoyed the intimacy while it had lasted, but he had been completely overtaken by a deep and abiding love. Their break-up had been bitter and he, being young, had not handled it well.

  That had been one of the many reasons why William had decided to leave Stardock and take service with Arutha. The other reasons involved disputes with his father over his role in the Academy. William had what could only be described as a ‘magical gift’: the ability to hear what animals were thinking. His father had assumed that meant William would take up magic as his calling, but other than the one odd ability, he felt no calling for, nor displayed much talent in, other areas of magic. He wished to be a soldier, a dream of his since childhood, and on several occasions after his fourteenth birthday his mother had had to end a heated exchange between William and Pug.

  William stopped and Jazhara turned a half-step later and said, ‘What is it?’

  William paused, framing his thoughts. ‘It doesn’t have to be difficult. We’ve already weathered one . . . adventure,’ he said with a pained grin, ‘and no doubt we’ll face other challenges for the prince. It seems Arutha is putting us in Squire James’s – excuse me, Sir James’s – charge, and we both know that means a lot more danger and a lot less comfort.’

  Jazhara nodded. ‘James does attrac
t trouble.’

  ‘Attract? No, he’s rather keen to ferret it out,’ corrected William. ‘That’s why Arutha treasures him so much.’ He glanced around. ‘James expects to be running this castle some day, and I expect he probably will. But what I mean is, we don’t have to make this any more difficult than it already is. That’s what I think the prince was hinting at.’

  ‘His Highness doesn’t strike me as the type of man to hint, William.’

  ‘Mostly you’re right,’ said William. He walked on. ‘But sometimes he lets the other person puzzle things out for himself—’ he inclined his head, ‘—or herself, because it makes the message much more . . . personal, I guess.’

  ‘So what you’re saying is, you’re willing to put the past behind us?’

  William stopped in mid-stride as if to think about the question, then started walking again. ‘I’m never going to forget anything, Jazhara,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m just not going to let it get in my way, is all.’

  ‘I can accept that,’ she said, studying his face.

  ‘What?’ he asked after a moment.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said with a half-smile. ‘It’s just . . . you’ve grown up since Stardock.’

  ‘Being around James ages you . . . rapidly.’

  She laughed and they let silence overtake them.

  The next morning James, William, and Jazhara were summoned to Prince Arutha’s private apartment as he was finishing his morning meal with his wife and children. The twins jumped down from the table and ran over, shouting, ‘Uncle Jimmy! Cousin Willy!’ and hugged both in turn. They were polite in greeting Jazhara, as she was relatively new to the court and hadn’t achieved ‘auntie’ status just yet. Baby Elena grinned and laughed at the sight of the two ‘uncles’, then shrieked delightedly.

  Princess Anita took a moment to greet both young men, who bowed; and Jazhara, who curtseyed despite wearing trousers instead of a skirt. ‘It’s good to see you again, boys, and you as well, Jazhara.’ She squeezed the young woman’s hands. ‘You must find time to visit us so that we can get to know each other better.’