The Riftwar Saga

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The Riftwar Saga Page 133

by Raymond E. Feist


  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.’

 

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