Shards of a Broken Crown

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Shards of a Broken Crown Page 48

by Raymond E. Feist


  “I give up,” said Nakor sitting down. “So, what are we to do?”

  All eyes turned toward him, and Pug said, “Why don’t you tell us?”

  Nakor opened his sack and reached in, up to his shoulder, as if feeling around. Everyone in the room had seen him do the trick before, but the effect was still comic. He fished out an orange and said,

  “Anyone want one?”

  Miranda held up her hand and Nakor tossed it to her. He got another one for himself. Nakor began to peel the orange. “Something amazing happened in Krondor last week. A terrible thing and a wonderful thing. Or they were both the same thing. Anyway, one of my students, a very special woman named Aleta, was studying with Sho Pi—meditation, just the basics—when suddenly a light gathered around her. She rose in the air, and below her, trapped, was a very black thing.”

  “A black thing?” asked Miranda. “Could you be a little more specific?”

  “I don’t know what to call it,” said Nakor. “It’s energy, perhaps a spirit of some sort. Maybe by now some of the other clerics from the different temples 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 534

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  have figured out what it is. But it’s something very bad. Maybe it’s left over from the demon. I don’t know, but I think it was in place so that something could happen in Krondor, later.”

  “Later?” asked Miranda, then she looked at Pug, who shrugged.

  Tomas said, “I have just been telling Pug that Captain Subai of the Pathfinders reached Elvandar. It seems Greylock’s army is stalled south of Questor’s View. And from what Subai reported, there is dark power being used again.”

  Nakor said, “Yes, that makes a great deal of sense.” He was about to say something, then hesitated. “A moment.” He made a broad gesture with his hands and waved over his head, then the room crack-led with energy.

  Tomas smiled. “Don’t lower the barrier prematurely this time.”

  Nakor grinned in embarrassment. The last time he had used this mystic shield to protect them, he had lowered it too soon and the demon Jakan had located them. “I put the field around the room. I’ll just leave it up permanently. No agency of Nalar’s will ever be able to spy on this room. Now we can talk without falling under his sway.”

  At the mention of Nalar’s name, Pug felt a prick-ling sensation in his head for a moment, and suddenly barriers to his memory were lowered. Images and voices swam in his consciousness, and things he had placed apart in his mind were now accessible to him.

  “We must assume the Nameless One has more servants.”

  “Obviously,” said Tomas. “The human sacrifices and other slaughter are means for gathering power.”

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  “What fascinates me,” said Nakor, “is what is happening in Krondor.”

  Pug smiled at his occasional companion.

  “Obviously this new faith of yours is having a direct effect.”

  “Yes, but that’s what I find odd and fascinating.”

  He pulled a section from his orange and ate it. “I am no expert on issues of faith, but I had the distinct impression it would take a few centuries or longer for our new temple to have any effect.”

  Miranda said, “Don’t give yourself too much credit, Nakor. It may be the power was already there, and your little temple just happened to be the con-venient conduit.”

  “That makes more sense,” agreed Nakor. “In any event, we have this issue to discuss. When we fought the demon, we mistakenly thought we had defeated the Nameless One’s agents. What we did was destroy their most current weapons, nothing more.”

  Nakor waved out the window past Miranda. “Out there,” he said, “is at least one more evil agency doing very bad things, and it is gathering power.

  “That is who we must defeat.”

  Tomas said, “Subai leads me to think that Elvandar will soon be at risk if we do not stop this army now.”

  Nakor leaped out of his chair. “No! You are not listening.” He stopped, then said, “Or I am not saying this right. We are not trying to save Elvandar, or Krondor, or the Kingdom.” He looked from face to face. “We are trying to save this world.”

  Ryana said, “Very well, Nakor. You now have my undivided attention. These petty human wars are nothing to dragonkind, but we share this world with 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 536

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  you. What is the threat to us all?”

  “This Mad God, this Nalar, whose very name is a danger, he is the threat. When you look at everything that has occurred since the Chaos Wars, remember this. When you once again forget the very conversation we have this hour, when your memories are locked away to prevent you from falling under Nalar’s sway, remember this much: there is always something deeper behind what you see on the surface.”

  “All right,” said Pug. “So what we see on the surface, the invasion and the conquest by Fadawah, they hide a deeper truth.”

  “Yes, Fadawah is a dupe. He was before and he is still. He is just the next to be placed at the head of this murderous army. We must identify whoever it is that stands behind him, in the shadow. There is something evil growing in Krondor. It is there against the time Fadawah’s army arrives. Whoever is behind Fadawah—an advisor, or servant, or a member of his guard—must be destroyed. Somewhere is a being who was there when my old wife, Jorna, became Lady Clovis, when she was controlling Dhakon, and when she sat the Emerald Throne. He was there when the demon ruled, and now when Fadawah is the leader. This creature, man, or spirit, this thing is the agent of Nalar who is orchestrating the war. It is this being who seeks no conquest, but rather destruction. This is the creature who doesn’t wish to see one side or the other win, but rather seeks to let the suffering linger, let innocents die. This is the creature we must find.”

  Tomas said, “Do you suspect another Pantathian?”

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  Nakor said, “I don’t think so. Maybe, but it may also be a man, or a dark elf, or any other manner of creature. It may be a spirit in the body of one such as Fadawah. I just don’t know. But we must seek out this creature and destroy it.”

  Pug said, “This sounds as if we must fly to the heart of the enemy and confront their leader.”

  Nakor said, “Yes, and that is dangerous.”

  Pug winced in memory of the trap the demon had laid for him, the one that in his arrogance he had overlooked, the trap that had almost cost Pug his life.

  “Why don’t we just . . . I don’t know,” said Miranda, “just burn everything within a mile of Fadawah’s headquarters? That should end this creature, shouldn’t it?”

  Pug said, “Probably not. Years ago I faced another of Nalar’s creatures, a mad magician named Sidi.

  A few of the older members of the temples know the story, for we strove to control the Tear of the Gods.”

  Ryana said, “Tear of the Gods?”

  Pug said, “It is a powerful artifact, used by the Ishapians to channel power from the controller gods.” He looked at Miranda. “You could burn this house down around Sidi and he would have been standing there laughing at you when the ashes cooled.”

  “How did you destroy him?” asked Miranda.

  Pug looked at his wife. “I didn’t.”

  Miranda said, “Are you saying this person controlling Fadawah is this Sidi?”

  “It could be. Or it could be one of Sidi’s servants, or another like him.”

  Nakor said, “Nalar has many agents. Most do not know they serve the Mad God. They just do things 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 538

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  because they feel the need.”

  Tomas said, “What must we do?”

  Pug said, “We lure this agent of Nalar into showing itsel
f.”

  “How?” asked Miranda.

  Pug nodded. “Me. I have to be bait. Fadawah’s true master must know that at some point I will act.

  I have in the past. And we can assume there’s some sort of surprise waiting for me if I show up.”

  Miranda said, “No! The last time I goaded you into acting prematurely, you almost got killed. Since then I think I’ve changed my mind about kicking down doors and walking into rooms. Let’s sneak around some first.”

  Nakor said, “I’ve snuck around in the enemy’s camp, back when I went to Novindus with Calis and his friends, and I stood close to the Emerald Queen.

  I couldn’t tell who was running things. Pug is right.

  We must find a way to force this person or creature or spirit or whatever it is to reveal itself to us.”

  Miranda said, “No! And I’m going to keep saying

  ‘no’ until you get it through your head.” She stood up. “I’ve snuck around behind the lines, too. Let Nakor and me do it one more time. We can go to where Greylock’s army is, and I know we can sneak into the camp. Let me get close to Fadawah and see what I can see. If we can’t find anything, I’ll agree to go in and let them throw everything at you. But I don’t want to risk it just yet. All right?” She touched his face.

  “Your temper is going to get you killed,” he warned her.

  “I can keep it under control when I have to.”

  Pug looked at Nakor. “I want you to promise me 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 539

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  you’ll tell her when it’s too dangerous and it’s time to come back here.” He looked at Miranda. “And I want you to promise you’ll listen to him, and when he says so, you’ll transport yourself back to this room.”

  They both agreed. Pug said, “I don’t like this anymore than you like my idea.” He kissed Miranda and said, “It’s better if you go now, while it’s still dark over there.”

  Miranda held out her hand. “Nakor, where do we want to go?”

  “Last I heard, Greylock was somewhere south of Questor’s View.”

  “I know a village on the coast. We’ll transport there, then we can fly up the coast.”

  Ryana said, “I’m going to go sleep. Wake me when you have someone worth fighting.”

  Nakor said, “A moment, please.” Pug and the others felt their memories shut off again, hiding knowledge of Nalar, and then the mystic barrier was lowered.

  Tomas said, “Sleep well, friend.” The dragon in human form left the room.

  Miranda took Nakor’s hand and they vanished from sight, leaving Pug and Tomas alone.

  Tomas removed his golden helm and placed it on Pug’s desk. “Well, old friend, there’s not much for us to do but wait.”

  Pug said, “I’m not very hungry, but we should eat.” He rose and led his friend out of the study, down the hall, and toward the kitchen.

  “You better land soon!” shouted Nakor. “My arms are getting tired.”

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  They were flying to the east of the highway, just above the treetops, with Nakor dangling from his staff, which Miranda held below her as she flew.

  They had appeared at a fishing village near Questor’s View. It had been deserted. Miranda had picked up Nakor and had flown across the highway, some distance away from a few campfires, and then had turned northward. They had flown past the campfires of both sides, past a large static position that had Nakor puzzled. He knew something significant had occurred for Greylock to have halted his northward march.

  Miranda came in for a landing, letting go of Nakor’s staff. He landed with an audible “oof,” as he struck the ground hard. “Sorry,” she said as she landed. “My wrists were starting to hurt.”

  “When you said we could fly together, I thought you had a spell that would carry both of us,” Nakor said as he stood up, brushing himself off. “I almost hurt myself on my staff.”

  “Well, if you’d left the thing behind like I told you to it wouldn’t have happened.” She sounded very unsympathetic.

  Nakor laughed. “You will be an excellent mother someday.”

  She said, “Not until Pug and I feel the world is a safer place than it is right now.”

  “Being alive is being at risk,” said Nakor as he adjusted his garment and recovered his staff. “Now, let us see if we can sneak into the enemy camp.”

  “How do you propose to do it?”

  “Like I always do: act like I belong. Just stay close behind me and, please, one thing.”

  “What?”

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  “Don’t lose your temper.”

  Miranda’s expression clouded and she said, “I don’t have a temper!”

  Nakor grinned. “There, you’re doing it now.”

  “You insufferable little man!” she said, walking off ahead of him.

  “Miranda!”

  “What!” she shouted, looking over her shoulder.

  Nakor hurried to catch up, and said, “For a woman of your experience, you can be very childish.”

  Miranda seemed on the verge of saying something. She stood still for a moment, then finally said,

  “You don’t know me, Nakor. You may have been my mother’s first husband, but you know nothing of me.

  You don’t know what my childhood was like. You don’t know what it was to be raised by imperial agents. If I’m childish, it may be because I had no childhood.”

  “Whatever the reasons, please try to keep from getting us killed,” said Nakor as he walked by her.

  Softly he said, “And for a woman your age, you are very concerned about things that happened a very long time ago.”

  She hurried to stay up with him. “What?”

  Nakor turned to face her, and for the first time since she had met him, there was not one shred of humor in the man’s expression. He gazed at her with an expression that could only be called intimidating.

  And for a moment, she glimpsed the power he had within him. Softly he said, “The past can be a terrible weight bound to you by an unbreakable chain.

  You can drag it with you, forever looking over your shoulder at what holds you back. Or you can let it go 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 542

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  and move forward. It’s your choice. For those who live centuries, it’s a very important choice.”

  He turned and walked away from her.

  Miranda stood a moment, then caught up with him again. This time she said nothing.

  They worked their way down through trees on the western face of the Calastius Mountains. They had passed the battlelines several miles to the south, where Greylock’s army had established a fixed front.

  Nakor said, “Something strange has happened.

  Greylock is dug in down south, at least that’s what it looked like from up there”—he pointed skyward—

  “as you sped along. It looks like he’s digging in, perhaps against a counterattack.”

  Miranda said, “I don’t know. Maybe they’re going to wait for supplies sent up to that fishing village where we landed.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so.” From the battlefield the stench of the dead filled the night air.

  Thousands of bodies littered the field. “This is very bad. To leave the dead unburied is an evil thing.”

  North of the battlefield a structure was being built. It appeared to be a fortress of some type, but as they neared it, they could see it was actually a series of large buildings linked together by huge wooden fences a uniform twenty feet high. Men were camped around fires scattered around the periphery.

  “Look,” said Nakor, “they don’t camp too close.”

  “What is it?” asked Miranda as they came near the edge of the sheltering trees.

>   “Something very bad I think. A temple, maybe.”

  “Temple to what?”

  “Let’s go find out.” He glanced around. “Over there.”

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  He led her through the trees to a place close to a collection of tents of all sizes and colors. They scurried through the heavy boles until they found a gap between two campfires, where they could slip in without attracting undue attention.

  They passed by unchallenged. Nakor led Miranda past a series of campsites, where they were just two people among several walking about on some errand or another. But as they passed a large camp, a man walked toward them. His head was shaved, save for a single fall of hair, tied up to cascade behind him.

  The hair looked to be cinched by a ring of bone. He wore deep scars on each cheek. He was bare chested and wore a vest of what appeared to be human skin.

  His trousers were dyed leather and Nakor didn’t inspect them too closely. He was massively muscled and carried a huge curved blade known as a flasher.

  It was a two-handed weapon, but he looked capable of wielding it with one hand.

  He walked up, weaving slightly, to Miranda, and looked her over in a very frank fashion, then turned to Nakor and said, with a drunken slur, “You sell her to me.”

  Nakor grinned. “No, I can’t.”

  The man’s eyes grew wide and he looked as if he was about to erupt into a rage as he said, “No? You say no to Fustafa!”

  Nakor pointed at the building and said, “She goes there.”

  Instantly the man’s expression changed, and he looked at Nakor and backed away. “I don’t ask,” he said, hurrying away.

  “What was that?” asked Miranda.

  “I don’t know,” said Nakor. He looked at the 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 544

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  building, less than a hundred yards away. “But I think it means we need to be careful in there.”

  “We’re going to walk in?” asked Miranda.

  “You have a better idea?” replied Nakor, walking toward the building.

  “No,” said Miranda, hurrying after him again.

  They both felt a strange energy as they neared it.

 

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