Krondor: The Assassins

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by Raymond E. Feist


  James nodded. ‘‘That will slow us down, Highness.’’

  ‘‘I know, but I’d rather not lose agents down the road for haste at the outset. I would prefer you to be circumspect and find us reliable people.’’

  James said, ‘‘I’ve been thinking about this as well, Highness.

  What if we set up two sets of agents?’’

  ‘‘What’s your meaning?’’

  ‘‘What if I line up some snitches and a couple of dockworkers, the sort of blokes I employed before, as if I were replacing those who were killed or fled, while at the same time I was quietly setting up a real ring of agents?’’

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  ‘‘Sounds plausible, but you realize those you recruit more openly are likely to be punished for the deeds of your real agents, don’t you?’’

  James said, ‘‘I know. But this isn’t a game, Highness. People are dying right now, and those who willingly take the Crown’s gold for being involved in such business should know the risks involved. I don’t want to set up anyone to be a decoy, and if I’m just fumble-fingered enough in setting up my snitches and bully-boys, and they’re just inept enough to make our enemies think them harmless, perhaps they won’t be asked to pay the price for our other work.’’

  Arutha said, ‘‘I don’t like it, but there are many things associated with this crown I don’t like.’’

  William sat silently, and Arutha looked at him. ‘‘Do you understand?’’

  ‘‘Sir?’’

  ‘‘I mean, do you understand about doing distasteful things, even repulsive things, in the name of duty?’’

  William was silent for a long moment, then he answered.

  ‘‘Sire, I’ve learned a lot in the last year about what it means to bear arms. Training was half of it. Killing men was most of the other half. But watching comrades, men whose safety had been entrusted to me . . . I think I understand.’’

  ‘‘Good, because you’re the only junior officer I can trust fully, beyond even the normal oath of loyalty to the Crown.

  Your father never traded on his adoption into the family—he never needed to—but it was a most solemn gift by my father to honor a boy he thought dead, whom he had come to regard as worthy of bearing our family name.

  ‘‘The children call you Cousin Willie, with affection, but it’s more than a simple courtesy: you are a conDoin. If the 182

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  responsibility that comes with that name hasn’t dawned upon you yet, now is the time for it to do so.’’

  William sat back, comprehension dawning on him. ‘‘It hadn’t, Highness. But I think it’s beginning to.’’

  ‘‘Good,’’ said Arutha with a half-smile. ‘‘I have no doubt James will accelerate your understanding if he doesn’t get you killed first.’’

  ‘‘What should I do, Highness?’’ asked William.

  ‘‘Study, learn, listen, train, do your job. But from time to time James will pull you from your regular duties and you’ll aid him in whatever task he requires. As your time here passes, William, I want you to get to know every man in the command, and in your mind mark those who you think can be trusted with special duties. The Household Guard has been a ceremonial command of late. It’s time to change that. I will eventually make it clear that my personal guards are the e´lite of this command, but not quite yet. To do so at this time would send a signal to whoever is behind all the mayhem in my city.’’

  Arutha sat back, formed a tent with his fingers and flexed them for a moment, the only nervous gesture James had ever seen him make. After a moment of reflection, he said, ‘‘We have ample proof of agencies in our realm doing mischief. We do not know if we face one or many foes. The Nighthawks?

  Are they related to those Izmalis? Why would they mount so frantic an attack? Had they moved with more precision, I suspect you would not be here, William.’’

  William nodded in agreement.

  ‘‘And of course,’’ Arutha continued, ‘‘why kill magicians?’’

  James said, ‘‘It would be nice if either Pug or Kulgan was here.’’

  Arutha nodded absently. ‘‘Pug wants to send me a new court 183

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  magician. After that affair with Makala and the Tsurani Great Ones, and now this business of shape-changers and murdering magicians . . .’’ He sighed. ‘‘I think Pug is correct and I will send him word to have this Keshian girl sent here.’’

  William’s eyes widened. ‘‘Jazhara!’’

  Arutha said, ‘‘Yes.’’

  ‘‘But she’s—’’

  Arutha interrupted. ‘‘I know. She’s the great niece of Lord Hazara-Khan.’’ Glancing at James. ‘‘Who is, I suspect, your opposite in the Court of Great Kesh.’’

  James said, ‘‘You flatter me. It will take me a decade to put together agents as cleverly as he has.’’

  To William, Arutha said, ‘‘You object to her coming here?’’

  ‘‘No . . . it’s just that I’m . . . surprised, Highness.’’

  ‘‘Why?’’

  William’s eyes shifted a moment, then he said, ‘‘Well, she’s a Keshian, and connected to the most influential family in the north of the empire. And . . . she’s young.’’

  Arutha had to laugh. ‘‘And you and James are ancient veterans?’’

  William blushed. ‘‘No . . . it’s just that all my life I’ve been surrounded by magicians, many of whom are elderly men of great experience. I’m just . . .’’

  ‘‘Just what?’’ asked the Prince.

  ‘‘Surprised that she’s my father’s choice, that’s all.’’

  Arutha reflected on that. ‘‘Why?’’

  ‘‘There are older, more experienced magicians at Stardock.’’

  ‘‘Who?’’

  ‘‘Who?’’ echoed William.

  ‘‘Who,’’ repeated Arutha, ‘‘would you suggest is a more appropriate choice?’’

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  William said, ‘‘I . . . well . . . there are several.’’ His mind raced and he did a quick inventory of the magicians at Stardock who might serve as an advisor to the Prince of Krondor. He quickly realized that most were either too caught up in their own area of study to perform the required duties with any dedication, or they lacked the social skills necessary to be a harmonious addition to the court. After a moment, he said,

  ‘‘Actually, I can’t think of anyone. Korsh and Watoom are also Keshians, and they are too involved with the conduct of the Academy. Zolan Husbar and Kulgan are too old. There are some others, but Jazhara has both the knowledge of court politics and a firm grasp of the mystic arts.’’

  ‘‘Do you fear treachery?’’

  ‘‘No,’’ William said without hesitation. ‘‘Never that. If she swears an oath of fealty to your crown, Highness, she will serve with her life if need be.’’

  ‘‘I thought as much.’’ Arutha regarded William for a moment.

  ‘‘There’s something else you’re not telling me, but I’ll let that pass for now.’’ To James he said, ‘‘I’ll set up a special account for you to draw upon for whatever you need in establishing this new network of agents. I want a weekly report, even if the report is ‘nothing happened this week.’ And I won’t like hearing that.’’

  James nodded. ‘‘There are three things we must deal with as quickly as possible. First, what is the relationship between the Nighthawks and the Crawler? Second, what is the purpose behind all the seemingly random deaths? And third, what is the significance of magicians being killed?’’

  Arutha rose, and the young men quickly followed suit. ‘‘I must pay a visit to the Duke of Olasko and his family. You 185

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  can add to that list why a visiting lord of a friendly nation was set upon so far from home.’’

  ‘‘Four things,’’ said
James.

  Arutha didn’t wait for James to open the door, but just opened it himself as he said, ‘‘Be in court tomorrow morning, both of you.’’

  After the Prince had set off down the corridor, William turned to James and said, ‘‘Did I make a total fool of myself in there?’’

  ‘‘Not total,’’ replied James with a smile. ‘‘What’s between this girl and you?’’

  William looked down at the ground and said, ‘‘It’s a long story.’’

  ‘‘We have time, so tell me.’’

  ‘‘Time? I have to report in.’’

  ‘‘You already did,’’ said James. ‘‘Treggar and the other officers will have been told you were with Arutha. From now on, when you’re with me or the Prince, the others in the garrison will simply know you’re on special duty. That’s all.’’

  William sighed. ‘‘When I came here, I really thought I’d train and then head off to some frontier outpost.’’

  James laughed. ‘‘You’re the Prince’s cousin, even if only by adoption. You didn’t imagine they’d let any member of the family conDoin rot away at Highcastle or Iron Pass, did you?’’

  ‘‘Well, I just never thought of myself as a royal, that’s all.’’

  ‘‘Living on that island out in the middle of that huge lake, I can see why you wouldn’t.’’

  William yawned. ‘‘Well, even if I don’t have to report in, I could use some sleep.’’

  ‘‘Not yet,’’ said James, throwing his arm around William’s shoulder. ‘‘We have some business to conduct.’’

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  ‘‘Business? Now?’’

  ‘‘Yes,’’ said James. ‘‘And besides, I want to hear all about you and this Jazhara.’’

  William said nothing, but he rolled his eyes heavenward and silently said, Why me?

  James opened the door into the noisy inn. William had been telling him the story of his relationship with the magician summoned from the island.

  ‘‘So, you see, it was really a silly boy thing, and she was very kind about it, but it was very embarrassing to say the least. I’ll hardly know what to say when she arrives.’’

  ‘‘How old were you?’’

  ‘‘Sixteen.’’

  James glanced around the inn. ‘‘I think I understand. You’ll appreciate my view of such things is different. By that age I was very . . . familiar with women, in both the good and bad sense of ‘familiar’.’’ He motioned across the room. ‘‘There’s a table.’’

  William and James had to maneuver their way past several groups of men standing drinking at tall tables along the wall, and between larger round dining tables. Food could be seen here and there, but most of the crowd seemed to be intent on drinking ale, or the occasional goblet of wine.

  As the two of them sat down, William said, ‘‘Why are we here?’’

  James waved his hand around. ‘‘Partially, to see what we can see.’’ William frowned, not having any idea of what James was talking about. ‘‘And partially, sitting in your tiny room with that other young lieutenant . . .’’

  ‘‘Gordon,’’ supplied William.

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  ‘‘Yes, Gordon . . . would probably do nothing to keep you from some black despair or another over your handling of the mission—which was quite good, no matter how you feel. And lastly . . .’’ James waved his hand ‘‘. . . I promised Talia I’d bring you back here.’’

  ‘‘You what—’’ he started to say, as Talia reached them.

  ‘‘James, William, how lovely to see you. What is your pleasure?’’

  ‘‘Two ales, please,’’ said James.

  She turned and gave William an extra little smile as she left to fetch their drinks.

  ‘‘See,’’ said James.

  ‘‘See what?’’

  ‘‘She likes you.’’

  William turned to watch her move through the press of bodies in the room. ‘‘You think?’’

  ‘‘I know.’’ James leaned across the table and gave William’s arm a brotherly squeeze, then sat back. ‘‘Trust me. She thinks you’re a Prince.’’

  ‘‘What?’’ said William, now confused. ‘‘You told her I was a Prince?’’

  James laughed. ‘‘No, you stone-crowned idiot. A ‘Prince of a fellow.’ A nice young man.’’

  ‘‘Oh,’’ said William, sitting back. Then he looked at James.

  ‘‘So you really think she likes me?’’

  James could barely contain himself as Talia returned with two flagons. Setting them down, William admired the pretty girl for a brief instant, then looked away as she said to him,

  ‘‘You’ve not been avoiding me, have you, Will?’’

  William glanced at her and saw that she was smiling, and 188

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  he returned the smile. ‘‘No, I was just on a . . . mission for the Prince.’’

  ‘‘That’s fine,’’ she said cheerfully, scooping up the coins James put on the table for the ale and walking away.

  William sipped his ale, then glanced at James. Before William could speak, James said, ‘‘She likes you.’’

  ‘‘Oh,’’ William replied, turning his attention back to the ale.

  James chuckled. They sat in silence for a few minutes, James appearing to be watching the crowd absently, but William noticed that his eyes were going from one man to the next, as if memorizing them or looking for something in those faces.

  At last, James said, ‘‘We need to leave. Drink up.’’

  ‘‘Why?’’

  James drained his ale and stood. ‘‘Now.’’

  William took another sip, stood and followed James. As they edged through the crowd, Talia saw them leaving and called to them, ‘‘Don’t be strangers!’’

  William waved, but James just hurried through the door.

  Outside the inn, James held up his hand and said, ‘‘Wait.’’

  ‘‘For what?’’

  ‘‘For that fellow there,’’ James said, pointing to a man nearing a distant corner, ‘‘to turn.’’

  The man turned the corner, and James said, ‘‘Now. Hurry.’’

  ‘‘We’re following him?’’

  ‘‘Brilliant.’’

  ‘‘I mean, why?’’

  James said, ‘‘Because a few days back he and a few of his friends were following me. And I need to find out why.’’

  William said nothing, but reflexively his hand fell to the hilt of his sword.

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  REVELATION

  m

  J

  AMES glanced around the corner.

  The man he had seen leave The Rainbow Parrot was just ducking around the far corner of the road. James held up his hand for William to wait. As the squire expected, a moment later the man reappeared for a brief instant, peeping around the corner to see if he was being followed.

  ‘‘It’s a trap,’’ said James.

  William drew his sword. ‘‘Do we walk away, or do we spring it?’’

  ‘‘Neither,’’ said James. ‘‘They know there are two of us, so they’ll be ready for you and that oversized cleaver of yours.’’

  He glanced upward. ‘‘How’re your climbing skills?’’

  ‘‘What?’’ said William glancing upward. ‘‘Here?’’

  ‘‘Where else?’’ replied James as he followed the roof-line with his eye. ‘‘Follow me,’’ he instructed, heading back the way they had come.

  Half a block away was an alley. ‘‘We don’t have much time,’’

  James said. ‘‘They’ll wait another two minutes, then they’ll figure we’ve tumbled to the trap.’’

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  James found what he was looking for, a wooden stairway to an upper floor door. He hurried up the steps, trying not to make any more noise t
han necessary, and William followed close behind. To William the noise of his own heavy boots on the wooden steps was certainly loud enough to wake those inside and warn whoever waited half a block away. Yet James seemed untroubled by it. He reached the door at the top of the stairs and pointed up toward the overhanging roof.

  ‘‘Give me a boost,’’ James whispered.

  William made a stirrup with his hands and lifted James easily upward so he was quickly sitting on the roof. James turned and reached over to help William up. ‘‘Hurry!’’ he whispered.

  William grabbed James’s hand and came up easily. An instant later both were moving, crouched low, toward the far edge. James again lay down and peered over the edge. He held up his hand and showed four fingers, without taking his eyes off the men below.

  William didn’t risk looking over as James retreated.

  ‘‘Ever jump off a roof before?’’

  ‘‘What, twenty feet?’’

  ‘‘Something like that.’’

  ‘‘With something to break my fall, yes.’’

  James grinned. ‘‘There are four possibilities down there.’’

  He pulled out his sword and sat down on the edge of the roof. He slid until he could grab the eaves with his left hand.

  He held himself there for an instant, cutting the distance from his feet to the ground by nearly half, then pushed away and landed feet-first on the shoulders of the rearmost man. The ambusher smashed into the ground, either dead or unconscious, as James tucked and rolled across the hard cobbles of the street.

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  William didn’t consider the bruises that move would leave, or the splinters he would collect, as he attempted to duplicate James’s feat.

  His hand missed the roof, so rather than slowing down, William fell hard upon the next man below, crushing his spine as they slammed into the street. William’s head swam for an instant, but while he gathered his wits, training and reflex took over. He was sitting on a corpse; without thought he got off and rolled over into a fighter’s crouch.

 

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