“We lay up and took stock. The ship was in need of some repair, not serious enough to sink her, but enough to make sailing damned inconvenient. I took her up a big river, must have been somewhere east of the Kingdom proper.
“Well, the second night we were at anchor, a damn army of goblins swarmed the ship, killing the sentries and capturing the rest of us. Bastards fired the Swallow and burned her down to the waterline. Then they marched us to a camp in the woods where some Dark Brothers were waiting. They took charge of us and we were all marched north.
“The lads I’d recruited were a crusty lot, but most of them died on the march. Damn goblins didn’t care spit. We got almost nothing to eat, and if a man took sick and couldn’t walk, they killed him on the spot. I got a touch of the belly flux and Guy and Armand half carried me for two days, and believe me that wasn’t pleasant for any of us.
“We moved northwest, heading up into the mountains, then over them. Lucky for us it was late summer, or we’d all have frozen to death. Still, it was touch and go. Then we met with some other Dark Brothers with more prisoners. Most of the prisoners spoke an odd tongue, a lot like Yabonese, but a few others spoke the King’s Tongue, or languages from the eastern kingdoms.
“Twice more we joined with other bands of Brothers with human prisoners, all marching west. I lost track of the time, but we must have traveled for over two months by then. By the time we were ready to cross the plain—which I now know to be the Plain of Isbandia—it was starting to snow. I know where we were headed now, though then I didn’t. Murmandamus was gathering slaves at Sar-Sargoth to pull his siege machines.
“Then one night our guards were hit by a company of horsemen from here. Of the two hundred or so slaves, only twenty survived, for the goblins and Dark Brothers took to killing us as soon as the horsemen struck the camp. Guy strangled one with his chains as it tried to run me through with a sword. I picked up the sword and killed another just after it had clawed the Protector’s eye out. Armand was wounded but not quite enough to kill him. He’s a tough bastard. But we three and two others were the only survivors from the Swallow.
“From there we were brought here.”
Arutha said, “An incredible tale.” He sat back against the wall. “Still, these are incredible times.”
Martin said, “How is it an outlander came to rule here?”
Amos took another drink. “These are a strange folk, Martin. As honest and fine as you’ll find anywhere, in some ways, but they’re as alien as those Tsurani in other ways. They have no hereditary rank here, instead placing great store in ability. Within a few months it was clear Guy was a first-rate general, so they gave him a company to command. Armand and I served under him. Within a few more months it was clear he was by far the best commander they had. They’ve got nothing like the Congress of Lords here, Arutha. When something needs to be decided, they call everyone into a meeting in the great square, where the market’s held. They call the meeting the volksraad, and they all vote. Otherwise, all decisions are left to those elected by the volksraad. They summoned Guy and told him he was now Protector of Armengar. It’s like being named King’s Marshal, but also something like being responsible for the safety of the city as well, a chief sheriff, constable, reeve, and bailiff all rolled up in one.”
Arutha said, “What did the previous Protector think of this?”
“She must have thought it was a good idea; she proposed it.”
“She?” said Jimmy.
Amos said, “That’s another thing around here takes a bit of getting used to. Women. They’re just like men. I mean when it comes to giving and taking orders, voting in the volksraad…other things. You’ll see.” Amos’s expression got distant. “Her name was Gwynnath. She was as fine a woman as I’ve met. I’m not ashamed to admit I was a little in love with her myself though”—his tone turned a little lighter—“I’ll never settle down. But if I ever did, that’s the sort for me.” He looked down into his ale mug. “But she and Guy…I know some things about him, learned slowly over the last two years, Arutha. I can’t betray a trust. If he tells you himself, fine. But let’s say they were something like man and wife there at the end, deeply in love. She was the one to step aside and turn over her city to him. She would have died for him. And he for her. She rode beside him and fought like a lioness.” His voice softened. “She died yesterday.”
Arutha and Martin exchanged looks with the others. Baru and Roald remained silent. Laurie thought of Carline and shivered. Even the boys could sense something of the loss Amos felt. Arutha remembered what Amos had said to Armand just before they had met Guy. “And Guy blames himself.”
“Yes. One-eye’s much like any good captain: if it happened under his command, it’s his responsibility.” Amos sat back, his face a thoughtful mask. “The goblins and the Armengarians used to keep things pretty simple for a long time. Run out, break a few heads, then retreat. The Armengarians were a lot like the Tsurani, fierce warriors, but no real organization. But when Murmandamus showed up, the Brothers got downright organized, even to the company level. Now they can coordinate two, three thousand warriors under a single commander. The Brotherhood was punishing the Armengarians regularly when we showed up. Guy proved a blessing to the Armengarians, knowing modern warcraft. He’s trained them, and now they’re damn good cavalry and fair mounted infantry, though getting an Armengarian off his horse can be a chore. Still, Guy makes progress. They’re back to holding their own with the Brothers. But yesterday…” Nobody spoke for a long while.
Martin said, “We have some serious matters to discuss, Amos. You know we wouldn’t be here unless something of the gravest consequence was happening in the Kingdom.”
“Well, I’ll let you alone for a while. You were good companions, and I know you to be honorable men.” He got to his feet. “But one thing more. The Protector is the most powerful man in the city, but even his power is limited to matters of safety for Armengar. If he said he’d an old debt with you, no one would interfere while you fought a duel, man to man. If you won, you’d be cut loose to make your own way and no one in the city’d raise a hand against you. But all he has to do is call you spies and you’d be dead before you turned around. Arutha, Martin, I know there’s bad blood between you and Guy, because of your father, and because of Erland. And I now know some of what lay behind that. I’ll leave that for Guy to sort out with you in time. But you must know something of how the weather turns up here. You are free to come and go as long as you don’t break a law, or as long as Guy doesn’t order you tossed out, or hung, or whatever. But he takes a responsibility. He guarantees your good behavior, all of you. If you betray the city, his life is forfeit along with your own. As I said, these folk can be fairly strange in their way, and their ways can be harsh. So understand what I say when I tell you this: betray Guy’s trust, even if you think it’s for the good of the Kingdom, and these people will kill you. And I’m not sure I’d even try to stop them.”
“You know we’d not break trust, Amos,” answered Martin.
“I know, but I wanted you to understand how strongly I feel. I’m fond of both you lads and would dislike seeing your throats cut almost as much as you would.” Saying nothing more, Amos left.
Arutha settled back, considering all that Amos had told him, and suddenly realized he was bone-tired. He looked to Martin and his brother nodded. No further discussion was required. Arutha knew he would tell the complete story to Guy in the morning.
—
Arutha and his companions waited as the lift rose, then halted at the floor of the Protector’s council room. It had been late morning, almost noon, before the call to Guy’s council had arrived. They walked a short way down the hall, then stopped. The guard who had come for them waited while they stared out the window in wonder at the vista below. Armengar spread out beyond the moat about the citadel and across the open market, to the huge city wall. But beyond the wall they could see a vast plain stretching northeast into the distant mist. On either side of th
e city mountains rose high into the heavens. From the west white billowing clouds blew through a deep blue sky, as amber-highlighted green grasses stretched away to the limit of their view. It was an incredible view. Jimmy glanced over and saw a strange expression on Locklear’s face. “What?”
“I was just thinking about all that land,” he said, pointing toward the plain.
“What about it?” asked Arutha.
“You could grow a lot on such land.”
Martin let his gaze wander the horizon. “Enough wheat to feed the Western Realm,” he commented.
Jimmy said, “You, a farmer?”
Locklear grinned. “What do you think a baron does in a small place like Land’s End? Mostly he settles squabbles between farmers, or sets fair taxes on crops. You have to know about such things.”
The guard said, “Come, the Protector waits.”
As Arutha and his companions entered, Guy looked up. With him were Amos, Dwyne, Armand de Sevigny, and a woman. Arutha looked at his brother and saw that Martin had halted in his tracks. The Duke of Crydee was staring at the woman in unabashed appreciation. Arutha touched Martin’s arm and he moved to follow his brother. Arutha glanced at the woman again and could appreciate his brother’s distraction. At first blush she seemed a plain-looking woman, but as soon as she moved, her bearing added another dimension to her appearance. She was striking. She wore leather armor, brown tunic and trousers, like most of the others in the city. But the bulky covering couldn’t disguise the fact she was trimly built, and her carriage was erect, even regal. Her hair was deep brown, with a startling streak of grey at the left temple, and was tied back with a rolled green scarf, and her eyes were blue. And from the red-rimmed state of those eyes, it was clear she had been crying.
Guy indicated that Arutha and his companions should sit. Arutha introduced everyone, and Guy in turn said, “You know Amos and Armand. This is Briana”—he indicated the woman—“one of my commanders.” Arutha nodded, but saw the woman had recovered from whatever had caused her to cry and was returning Martin’s look.
Quickly, with economy, Arutha told Guy his story, starting with the return from the long trip with Lyam to the East, then of the first attack by the Nighthawks, through the revelations at the Abbey at Sarth and the quest for Silverthorn, to the false death of the Prince of Krondor. He ended by saying, “To end it, we’ve come to kill Murmandamus.”
At that, Guy shook his head in disbelief. “Cousin, it’s a bold plan, but…” He turned to Armand. “How many infiltrators have we tried to get into his camp?”
“Six?”
“Seven,” said Briana.
“But they weren’t Kingdom men, were they?” answered Jimmy, taking out an ebon hawk on a chain. “And they didn’t carry the Nighthawks’ talisman, did they?”
Guy looked at Jimmy in near-exasperation. “Armand?”
The former Baron of Gyldenholt opened a drawer in a cabinet and took out a pouch. He untied the pouch and poured a half dozen of the talismans on the table. “We’ve tried it, Squire. And yes, some were Kingdom men, for there are always a few among those saved by the Armengarians when they raid the Brothers’ slave coffles. No, there’s something missing. They know who the true brigands are and who are spies.”
Arutha said, “Magic, most likely.”
Guy said, “That’s a problem we’ve faced before. We number no spellcasters, whether magicians or priests, in this city. It seems constant warfare, with everyone expected to fight, does not permit the sort of placidity such study requires—or it kills off all the teachers. But whatever the reason, on those few occasions when Murmandamus or his snake has taken a hand, we’ve paid a dear price.” He added thoughtfully, “Though for some reason he seems reluctant to use his powers against us, thank the gods.”
Guy sat back. “You and I share an interest, cousin. To give you some sense of it, let me tell you about this place. You know that the ancestors of the Armengarians came over the mountains when the Kingdom annexed Yabon. They discovered a rich land, but one already inhabited, and those who were here first tended to look upon the incursion of the Armengarians with disfavor. Briana, who built this city?”
The woman spoke, her voice a soft contralto. “The legend is that the gods ordered a race of giants to build this city, then left it abandoned. We took it as we found it.”
“No one knows who lived here,” said Guy. “There is another city, far to the north, Sar-Sargoth. It is a city twin to this one, and Murmandamus’s capital.”
Arutha said, “So if we are to seek him out, that is where we’ll find him.”
“Seek him out and he’ll see your heads on pikes,” snorted Amos.
Guy indicated agreement. “We have other needs, Arutha. Last year he marshaled an army in excess of twenty thousand—as much might as the Armies of the East at full muster during peaceful times. We braced ourselves for a full-scale onslaught, but nothing materialized. Now, I expect your friend here”—he pointed to Baru—“killing off Murmandamus’s favorite general might have aborted the campaign. But this year he’s back and he’s even stronger. We estimate he may have more than twenty-five thousand goblins and Dark Brothers under his banner, with more arriving every day. I expect upward of thirty thousand when he marches.”
Arutha looked at Guy. “Why hasn’t he marched yet?”
Guy spread his hands, inviting comment from anyone. “He’s waiting for your death, remember?” instructed Jimmy. “It’s a religious thing.”
Arutha said, “He has word by now. That’s what he told that renegade Morgan Crowe.”
Guy’s one good eye narrowed. “What’s this?”
Arutha told of the renegade at the inn on the road to Tyr-Sog, and of the plan to hire Segersen’s engineers.
“That’s what he was waiting for,” said Guy, slapping the table. “He has his magic, but for some reason won’t use it against us. Without Segersen’s engineers he can’t bring down our walls.” When Arutha looked uncertain of Guy’s meaning, Guy said, “If he could bring down Armengar’s walls he wouldn’t be trying to hire Segersen. No one knows who built those walls, Arutha, but whoever it was had some skills beyond any other I’ve knowledge of. I’ve seen fortification of all manner, but none like Armengar. Segersen’s engineers might not be able to breach the walls, but they are the only ones I know of with a half chance to do it.”
“So, with Segersen not coming, you’re in good position to defend.”
“Yes, but there are other matters coming to bear as well.” Guy stood. “We’ve more to discuss, and can continue later; I’ve a meeting with a city council now. For the present, you are free to come and go within Armengar at will.” He took Arutha aside and said, “I need to speak with you in private. Tonight, after the evening meal.”
The meeting broke up, with Briana, Armand, and Guy leaving. Dwyne and Amos lingered behind. Amos approached Arutha and Martin while the Duke watched the woman leave. “Who is she, Amos?” asked Martin.
“One of the city’s better commanders, Martin. Gwynnath’s daughter.”
“Now I understand the look of grief,” said the Duke.
“She just learned of her mother’s death this morning.” Amos pointed toward the city. “Her patrol was to the west, along the line of steadings and kraals, and she just returned hours ago.” Martin’s expression was quizzical. “The farm communities are steadings and the cattle- and sheepherder communities are kraals. No, she’s dealing with Gwynnath’s loss. It’s Guy who has me worried.”
Arutha said, “He hides his grief well.”
Arutha felt conflicting emotions. The dislike for Bas-Tyra he had learned at his father’s knee fought his sympathy at the man’s grief. He had almost lost Anita, and he could feel that terror and pain echoing as he considered Guy’s lot. Yet Guy had ordered Anita’s father imprisoned, which had killed him. And Guy was a traitor. Arutha pushed aside those feelings, for they troubled him. He walked with Amos and Martin while Martin continued asking questions about Briana.
ACCOMMODATION
Jimmy poked Locklear in the ribs.
They were strolling through the market, attempting to see what little of Armengar was worth seeing. Boys their own age were rare, and those few who they did see were armed and armored. What interested Jimmy was the difference between this market and those in Krondor.
“We’ve been here an hour or more, and I’ll swear I’ve not seen a beggar or thief in the lot,” said Jimmy.
“Makes sense,” said Locklear. “From what Amos said, trust is essential to the existence of this city. No thieves, ’cause they all have to hang together, and where would you hide anyway? I don’t know much about cities and such, but it seems to me this place is more a garrison than a city, despite the size.”
“You have that right enough.”
“And there are no beggars because they probably take care of everyone, like in the army.”
“Mess and infirmaries?”
“Yes,” agreed Locklear.
They wandered past booths and Jimmy judged the worth of the items displayed. “Notice any real luxuries?” Locklear indicated he had not. The booths were devoted to foodstuffs, simple cloth and leather goods, and weapons. All prices were low, and there seemed little if any haggling.
After a short time of walking, Jimmy sat on a door stoop at the edge of the market. “This is boring.”
“I see something that’s not boring.”
Jimmy said, “What?”
“Girls.” Locklear pointed. Two girls had emerged from the press of shoppers and were examining goods at a booth near the edge of the market. They appeared about the same age as the boys. Both were similarly attired, leather boots, trousers, tunics, leather overvests, belt knives, and swords. Each wore a rolled scarf to hold her shoulder-length dark hair out of her eyes. The taller girl noticed Jimmy and Locklear watching them and said something to her companion. The second girl regarded the boys while the two whispered, heads together. The first girl put back the items she had been holding, and she and her friend walked over to Jimmy and Locklear.
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