James suppressed the quip that almost sprang to his lips about it not being a bad way to be used, and said instead, “Well, he wanted . . . I mean . . .”
“Yes, but I was older and should have seen the problems to come. So I broke off our affair. I fear I may have tipped the balance in his decision to leave Stardock and come to Krondor.”
They turned into a street and headed toward an inn displaying a large parrot with rainbow-colored feathers on a sign over the door. “Well, I’ve known Will for a bit now, and I think you can put aside that concern,” James said at last. “He was set on becoming a soldier, one way or another, all his life, from what he’s told me.”
Jazhara was about to reply, but before she knew it, James was drawing his sword and saying, “Guard yourself!”
She brought her staff to the ready and hurried after him. She saw that the door to the inn was partially open and that there was a dead soldier lying before it; and now she could hear the sound of fighting coming from within.
James kicked the door wide and leapt through, Jazhara behind him, staff at the ready. A scene of carnage greeted them. Two armed men lay dead on the ground, mercenaries judging by their dress. Several bar patrons also lay dead amidst the broken furniture. A young woman lay near the fireplace, blood pooling about her head.
In the corner William conDoin, cousin by adoption to the Royal House of Krondor and Lieutenant in the Prince’s Household Guard, stood ready with his large sword held two-handed before him. Three men advanced on him.
William, seeing the newcomers, “James! Jazhara! Help me! Talia’s been hurt!”
One of the men turned to engage the squire. The other two attacked William, who barely had room to deflect both strikes with his larger sword. A devastating weapon in the field, the hand-and-a-half or “bastard” sword was a liability at close quarters.
Jazhara lifted her hand and a nimbus of crimson light erupted around it. She cast it at the closest of William’s opponents and watched as the light harmlessly struck the ground near his feet. “Damn,” she muttered. She hefted her staff and stepped forward, leveling a jab with the iron base at the side of the man’s head.
The intruder sensed or saw with his peripheral vision the attack and ducked aside. Whirling to face his new foe, he made a wicked slashing attack at Jazhara, causing her to fall back.
But she had freed William to concentrate on one foe only, and he quickly killed his man. James also dispatched his opponent, then used his sword hilt to strike Jazhara’s attacker at the base of the skull. Rather than stun the man, it served only to distract him, and he turned as Jazhara lashed out again with her staff. The sound of breaking bones was unmistakable as the iron heel of the staff crushed the back of the man’s head.
James looked around the room and said, “What black murder is this?”
William had thrown down his sword and was kneeling beside Talia, cradling her head in his lap. The girl’s face was pale and her life flowed out by the second. “Oh, William . . .” she whispered, “Help me.”
William looked down despairingly. He glanced at James, who shook his head slightly, regret clearly showing in his expression. William then looked at Jazhara and entreated, “You were one of my father’s finest students. Can you perform a healing?”
Jazhara knelt beside the young soldier and whispered, “I’m sorry, William. Her wounds are too severe. Even if we were to send for a priest. . . it would be too late.”
James knelt on the other side of the girl. “Talia, who did this?”
Talia looked up at James. “They were after Father. I don’t know who they were. The leader was a huge bear of a man.” She coughed and blood trickled from her mouth, staining her lips. “He hurt me, William. He really hurt me.”
Tears streamed down William’s cheeks. “Oh, Talia, I’m sorry . . .”
Suddenly the girl’s distress seemed to ease. James had seen this before in those on the verge of death. For a moment their eyes brightened, as if the pain had vanished, as if the dying stood upon the threshold of entering Lims-Kragma’s Hall. At this moment, they saw clearly in both worlds. Talia whispered, “Don’t worry, William. I swear by Kahooli, I will have my vengeance!”
Then her head lolled to one side.
“No . . . Talia!” William sobbed. For a moment he held her, and then slowly he placed her on the floor, and gently closed her eyes. At last, he rose and declared, “They must pay for this, James. I’m going after them.”
James looked toward the doorway of the inn. If the intruders had been seeking Talia’s father Lucas, that was the way the old man would have bolted. He said, “Wait, William. The Prince will have my head if I let you go off alone. You’ll have your revenge and we’ll be there beside you. Now, tell us what happened.”
William hesitated a moment then said, “Right. Martin and I had just ended our shift. We headed over here for a drink, just like always, and that’s when we saw them run out of the building. Half a dozen of them, with that big bastard leading them. Martin tried to halt them, and they attacked us without so much as a word. If you hadn’t come along, I’d no doubt be lying alongside Martin.” He gestured toward the dead soldier.
James inspected the carnage. In addition to Talia, they had slaughtered everyone else in the inn. The other barmaid, Susan de Bennet, lay sprawled on the floor in the corner, her head severed completely from her body with what looked to have been a single blow. Her red tresses fanned out around her head, which lay a foot away from her body, her blue eyes still wide in shocked amazement. The other patrons were likewise hacked to pieces.
“Why?” asked James. “Why charge in and kill everyone in sight?” He looked at William. “Did the big man go after Lucas?”
“No. Some other men went out through the back. Once those five murderers backed me inside the inn, the big bastard and some others fled down the street.”
“Do you have any idea where they were heading?” asked James.
Before William could answer, the building seemed to rock as the night was torn by the sound of a thunderous explosion. James was first out the door, with William and Jazhara close behind him. To the west, a fountain of green flames rose into the night as rocks shot up into the air. As the sound of the explosion diminished, the rocks began to rain down. James and his companions ducked beneath the overhanging roof eaves, and waited.
When it was clear that the last of the rocks had fallen, William said, “Listen!”
In the distance they could hear the clash of arms and the shouts of men. They hurried toward the noise, and turned the corner that led to the city jail. As they ran toward the jail, another explosion ripped through the night and they were thrown to the ground. A tower of green fire again reached into the darkness, and James shouted, “Get under cover!”
Again they hugged the walls of a building as more stones rained down upon them. William shouted, “What is that? Quegan Fire?”
James shook his head, “No Quegan Fire I’ve ever seen was green.”
Jazhara said, “I think I know what it was.”
“Care to share that intelligence with us?” asked James.
“No,” she answered. “Not yet.”
As the clatter of falling stones quieted, James leapt up and they continued running toward the jail. They reached a junction with two other streets, and sprinted left. A short distance further on they came to another intersection, and it was there they saw what was left of the jail. A gaping hole in the wall stood where the wooden door had once been, a few flames could be seen inside, and smoke rose from the maw. Nearby, an overturned wagon served as cover for two guardsmen and Captain Garruth, commander of the city watch. James, William, and Jazhara approached the wagon in a running crouch, keeping the wagon between them and the opening, for crossbow bolts and arrows were flying from the hole at those behind the wagon.
Glancing back, Captain Garruth motioned for them to stay low. When James came alongside, the captain said, “Astalon rot their black hearts.” He nodded to the two y
oung men he knew and said, “William. Squire James.” Without waiting for an introduction to Jazhara, the guard captain continued. “As you can see, we’ve a bit of a problem.”
“What happened?” asked James.
“Bloody brigands! They’ve blown out the back of the jail, and cut down half my squad.”
“Who are they?” asked William.
“Your guess is as good as mine, lad. The leader’s a giant of a man, bald, with a thick beard. He was wearing some sort of bone amulet, and he swung a mean sword.”
William said, “That’s the one, James.”
“Which one, boy?” asked the captain as another arrow slammed into the underside of the wagon.
James glanced at William. “The one that killed Talia, the barmaid at the Rainbow Parrot.”
Garruth let out a slow breath then said heavily, “Lucas’s girl.
She is . . . was . . . such a sweet thing.“ He glanced at William. ”My sympathies, Will.“
With cold anger, William replied, “I’ll have his heart, Captain. I swear I will.”
Garruth said, “Well, now’s your chance, lad. They’ve got us pinned down, but maybe the two of you can creep back down the way you came and circle behind the jail.”
“Where’s the sheriff?” asked James.
Garruth inclined his head toward the jail. “In there, I expect. I was due to meet with him when everything went to hell.”
James shook his head. He had little affection for Sheriff Wilfred Means, but he was a good and loyal servant of the Prince and his son Jonathan was one of James’s agents. He would discover if the younger Means was still alive later, he supposed.
“If the sheriff and his men were inside when the bastards blew up the jail, we won’t see help here from the palace for another ten or fifteen minutes,” said James.
Garruth said, “Aye, and that gives them time for whatever bloody work they’ve got in mind. Never seen anyone try to break into a jail before, so there must be something in there they want.”
James said, “No, there’s someone they want.”
William said, “You think Lucas went to the jail?”
“Maybe,” said James. “But we won’t know until we get inside.”
Garruth said, “You’d best leave the woman here until the palace guards arrive.”
Jazhara said, in a dry tone, “I appreciate your concern, but I can handle myself.”
The captain shrugged. “As you will.”
They crouched low and returned the way they had come, until they reached the big intersection, safely out of firing range of the jail. All three stood and began to run.
They quickly reached the rear wall of the jail, in which another gaping hole could be seen. “The second explosion?” asked William.
“The first,” said Jazhara. “They blew this one out to catch men eating and sleeping there” - she pointed through the hole to a table and overturned bunks - “then when those in the front of the jail ran back to aid their comrades, they set off the explosion on the other side, through which they almost certainly attacked, catching whoever was inside from the rear.”
James said, “We’ll not find the answer out here.”
He ducked low and ran toward the hole leading into the guardroom, expecting a volley of arrows at any moment. Instead he found only two men looting the corpses on the ground. One died before he could draw his sword and the other turned on James, only to be struck from behind by William. James held up his hand for silence.
From the entrance come the sound of arrows and quarrels being fired, but all was still in the guardroom. James motioned for William to take the left side of the door into the front room, and for Jazhara to stand a few feet behind James. Then he moved to the partially opened door. He glanced through. A half-dozen men, four with bows and two with crossbows, were spread in flank formation, patiently shooting at anything that moved outside the hole in the wall. It was clear they were merely holding Garruth and his men at bay so someone inside could accomplish his mission.
James glanced at William and Jazhara, and then toward an opening in the floor with stone stairs leading down to the underground cells. He knew there was a staircase in the front room leading to offices and the sheriff’s apartment above. Which way had the big man gone? Up or down? James decided that either way they’d need Garruth and his half-dozen guardsmen to deal with the big man and his crew. So the six bowmen ahead must first be neutralized.
James held up three fingers, and Jazhara shook her head emphatically. She tapped her chest, indicating that she wished to make the first move. James glanced at William, who shrugged, so he looked back at Jazhara and nodded.
She stepped forward, raising her right hand high above her head, while grasping her staff in the left. Again the hair on James’s arms stood on end as magic was gathered. A golden light enveloped the woman, accompanied by a faint sizzling sound, then the light coalesced into a sphere in the palm of her hand. She threw it as if it was a large ball and it arced into the room, landing between the center pair of bowmen. Instantly they dropped their weapons and twitched in wild spasms. The two next to them on either side were also afflicted, but held on to their weapons and managed to regain control of their movements almost immediately. The two crossbowmen - one of either side of the flank - were unaffected. Fortunately for William, the man he charged had just fired a bolt and was moving to reload his weapon.
The other man turned and fired wildly, the bolt striking the wall high above James’s head. Suddenly the balance shifted. The archers dropped their bows and drew daggers, for the projectile weapons were useless at close range. James had one man wounded and down before his neighbor had freed his dagger from his belt. William’s large sword was menacing enough that one of the mercenaries threw down his crossbow and attempted to leap over the desk and dash through the gaping hole in the wall.
Seeing the man attempting to flee from within, Captain Garruth and his men sprang forward and the man was down in moments. Inside, the others threw up their hands and knelt, the mercenary’s universal sign of surrender.
Garruth indicated that two of his six men were to guard the prisoners. To James he said, “There are more of them than these six. I’ll take my men to the basement, if you three will check upstairs.”
James nodded. “Who’s supposed to be up there?”
“Just the lads sleeping until their mid-watch shift, and a scribe named Dennison. The sheriff and his men sleep up there.” Glancing at the hacked bodies, he said, “I doubt any of them are alive.” He scratched his beard. “It was a perfect raid. They knew exactly when to hit. The company was at its lowest complement and least able to defend itself, and reinforcements were unlikely to get here quickly.” He started toward the stairs leading down to the cells, and two of his men followed cautiously.
James motioned to William and Jazhara to accompany him and they made their way to the stairs leading to the upper floor of the jail. As they reached the steps, they ducked reflexively as another explosion came from above.
While smoke and stone dust poured down the steps, Captain Garruth shouted, “He’s heading for the North Gate!”
James didn’t hesitate. “Come on!” he bellowed, and ran through the gaping hole just a few feet away.
Looking down the crowded street leading to the North Gate, James could see the head and shoulders of a large man towering above the throng, shoving his way through the curious onlookers who had gathered to see what the commotion at the jail was. James, William, and Jazhara raced after him.
As they neared the crowd, James glanced back and saw that Garruth’s men were engaged in a struggle with about a half-dozen mercenaries. To William and Jazhara, he shouted, “We’re on our own!”
People who had been shoved aside by the big man found themselves being pushed aside once more, this time by James and his companions. “Out of the way! Prince’s business!” he shouted.
In the din of voices he could barely be heard and finally James let William, who was stock
ier and stronger than James, take the lead. People jumped aside as they recognized the garb of the prince’s personal household guards, when he bellowed, “Stand aside in the name of the Prince!”
Still, precious moments had been lost, and the big man was out of sight. As they neared the intersection with the road that emptied out through the North Gate, another mighty explosion could be heard, followed instantly by screams and shouts.
They reached the corner and saw a large, two-story building in flames. Smoke billowed from the lower windows as flames climbed the outside wall.
“Gods,” said James. “He’s fired the orphanage.”
From the main door four women and a man were ushering out children, many of whom looked stunned and disoriented, coughing from the heavy smoke. James ran to the door.
The man turned, saw William’s garb and shouted, “Someone’s burned the orphanage! They threw a bomb through that window.” He pointed with a shaking finger. “Flames erupted and we barely got out alive.”
Jazhara said, “Are all the children out?”
A scream from upstairs answered her.
The man coughed and said, “I tried to go upstairs, but the fire near the stairs is too intense.”
“How many are up there?” asked William.
“Three,” said one of the women, who was crying. “I called the children for supper, but they were taking their time coming down . . .”
“I may be able to help,” said Jazhara.
“How?” asked James.
“I have a spell which will protect you from the heat unless you touch the flame itself. But it lasts only a short time.”
The man said, “Then weave it quickly, woman. Their lives are at stake.”
William started to strip off his armor, but James said, “No, I’m faster than you.” He also had no armor to doff. He handed his sword to William and said, “Ready.”
Jazhara said, “The spell will protect you from the heat, but you must be careful not to breathe the smoke too deeply as it will kill as fast as a flame.” She pulled a handkerchief from the hands of one of the nearby women and handed it to James. “Hold this over your mouth and nose.”
Krondor Tear of the Gods Page 7