“Greylock will act as my second with the units up in the mountains.” He pointed at Erik. “That means you will have to fill in for Greylock, where we had planned to use him.”
“The retreat,” said Erik flatly.
“Yes,” said Calis. “By the time we lose this city, we’re going to have a frantic population attempting to flee and a routed army trying to go with them. We can’t allow that.”
“How are you going to prevent it?” asked Erik.
William sighed. “This is what comes of making assumptions. If we had included you in our command meetings you’d know this already.” He handed a large sheaf of papers to Erik. “Read these; the plan is outlined in detail and I want you to have it down cold by tonight. You and I will have dinner and we can dispose of any questions of yours then.”
Erik turned to Calis. “When do you leave?”
“As soon as my father returns from Stardock,” answered William for Calis.
Erik assumed it was implicit no one knew when that was. “Very well, m’lord.”
Erik turned to leave the room, and as he reached the door, William said, “Oh, Erik, there’s one more thing.”
Erik turned and said, “What is that, sir?”
“From this moment on, you’re a Knight-Captain in the Prince’s army. I don’t have time to waste making you a lieutenant, so you’ll just have to skip a rank.”
Greylock smiled, trying hard not to laugh at Erik’s astonished expression. “Me, sir?”
“What’s the matter, von Darkmoor!” shouted Calis in a fair imitation of Bobby de Loungville. “Are you suddenly hard of hearing?”
Erik blushed. “Ah, that means I need a new sergeant major, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. Any recommendations?”
Erik almost said Jadow, because he was the most senior sergeant in the command, but the fact was that Calis had been correct originally when he had given Erik the job. Jadow just didn’t have the command skills for the position; it required far more organizational ability than most of the sergeants possessed. After a while he said, “There are two or three men who would serve, but to be honest, the best of the lot is Duga, the mercenary captain. He’s smart, he’s tough, and he understands exactly what is at stake without our telling him everything. He’s been very useful in persuading those other mercenaries we’ve captured into switching sides.”
“I don’t like it,” said William. “The man’s a turncoat.”
Erik said, “You have to understand how things are across the sea, m’lord. Men there have no strong attachment to a city and there are nothing like the nations here; Duga has been a mercenary all his life, but down there mercenaries live by a strict code of honor. If he swears loyalty—and I can make him understand this isn’t a contract where he can throw down his sword and switch back—he’ll serve.”
William said, “Let me think on this. Perhaps we’ll make him a sergeant of auxiliaries, but I need someone else, now.”
“Then Alfred,” said Erik. “He’s not as sharp when it comes to strategy and tactics as I’d like, but he understands how to get things done in a hurry with a minimum of fuss.”
“Then he’ll do,” said William, glancing at Calis.
Calis nodded. “I agree. He’s solid, and he’ll do for what we have coming.”
“Go tell him,” said William, and Erik left.
After he was gone, Greylock said, “You neglected to mention he carries the court rank of Baron.”
Calis smiled. “Let’s not get him too upset right now.”
William let out a long, tired sigh. “I’m going to have to deal with his upset when he reads the plans and sees what his role is to be.”
Calis nodded. “There’s no doubt about that.” Then he laughed, a rueful, bitter laugh.
“Darkmoor!” Erik said. “You can’t be serious!” At William’s expression, he quickly added, “M’lord.”
William motioned for Erik to follow him down the hall. “We’re dining with my family tonight. We’ll talk over a quiet meal.”
As soon as they reached the dining hall, Erik felt his anger drain away. The “quiet” meal the Knight-Marshal spoke of included Duke James, Lady Gamina, their son, Lord Arutha, and his two sons, Dashel and James.
Erik almost blushed at being included with the Duke’s family, and quickly took a seat to William’s right. As servants began to bring in the food, the magician Pug entered through a door across from Erik’s seat. Erik saw only that his hair and beard had been cut close, until he came to sit between William and Lady Gamina, at which point Erik saw what appeared to be faint burn marks on his neck and face.
Jimmy and Dash stood, as did Arutha, James, and Gamina. William hesitated a moment, and rose, while Erik quickly did as well. “Great-grandfather,” said Dash in greeting.
Pug kissed Gamina’s cheek and shook hands with James and then with William. “I’m pleased we’re all together,” said Pug.
Erik saw, and with sudden clarity realized, why there was a somber mood in the room; this might very well be the last time Pug’s family would gather. And many of those here might not be alive soon.
Erik whispered to William, “If you’d prefer, sir, we can talk about my mission tomorrow.”
William shook his head. “At first light tomorrow, I want you up in the hills inspecting the first line of fortifications outside the city to the east. Then you need to be back here by the day after tomorrow.” He glanced at his family. “We don’t have time, I’m sorry to say.”
Pug said, “Before anything else, I have one thing I must say to all of you.”
William turned to look at his father, as did James and Gamina. Pug said, “I have been absent from your lives far too long, and for this I must beg your forgiveness.” He then reached out and placed his hands over William’s and Gamina’s. “And I also need to tell you how very proud of you I am.”
William looked as if he didn’t know what to say. Gamina smiled and moisture gathered in her eyes as she leaned over and kissed her father’s cheek. Erik had seen enough strange things in the last four years to find nothing odd in the image of a woman who looked old enough to be Pug’s mother being his daughter.
Gamina said something to her father by mind speech, and he smiled. “I wish she were here, too.”
William said, “Thank you, Father.”
Pug removed his hand from Gamina’s and put it over the one that still gripped William’s. “No, I must thank you, for being who you are, and for holding to your own dream, no matter what I thought you should be doing. I learn slowly at times, I fear.”
William smiled and Erik could see the resemblance between father and son. There was a sheen of moisture in the Knight-Marshal’s eyes, and Erik found his own throat tightening with emotion. This was what this war was about, protecting those we love, he thought. Somewhere in the night his mother and the only man he thought of as a father were sitting over a table in the back of an inn, and somewhere out there the woman he loved was hiding, on her way to join his mother and Nathan.
Erik suddenly felt a presence in his mind, a gentle touch, nothing more, but he knew it was the Lady Gamina. He glanced over and she saw was smiling at him. Then words came into his mind. Your young woman is safe, I am sure.
Without knowing quite how to do it, he tried to say, My wife.
Gamina laughed and William said, “What?”
The Duchess said, “Our young friend has gotten married since the last time we met.”
Pug, William, Arutha, and Gamina all offered congratulations, while the two younger men glanced at their grandfather. Pug said, “James?”
The former boy thief shrugged and grinned, and there was a hint of boyish playfulness in his manner. “I knew. So did Dash and Jimmy.”
Arutha said, “You knew?”
Duke James laughed. “I had to get Erik’s mind back on the days to come, so I let him think he was being terribly clever sneaking his young wife out of the city.” He pointed an accusatory finger at Erik. “Don�
��t ever disobey me again, Captain.”
At the admonition and use of his new rank, Erik couldn’t help but blush.
“Captain?” asked Dash, nodding in approval.
Gamina and Arutha both said, “Congratulations.”
William said, “We’ll see how much congratulations are in order after this coming battle.”
At mention of the conflict, the mood in the room fell somber again. After a moment of quiet, Pug slapped his hand on the table. “Enough! Let us steal a moment of happiness while we can.” He glanced at his grandson, Arutha. “My only regret is that your wife is not with us.”
Arutha smiled, and Erik again saw the echo of both his father and mother in his features. “She visits her parents in Roldem.”
Jimmy said, “Perhaps we should all go to Roldem for a visit.”
Pug laughed, and the others joined in. The meal passed quickly and pleasantly, as those dining together found reassurance in one another’s company.
Erik was pleased to have the opportunity of seeing this family together, for in this room sat three of the most important men in the Kingdom, Lord James and his father-in-law and brother-in-law. The food was beyond a doubt the best Erik had ever had, and the wine was beyond comparison, wine grown in his own Darkmoor region, but too costly for a commoner like himself to have ever tasted. He and William quietly discussed the plan for the defense of those leaving the city, in the corner, while the other family members chatted about matters of small importance and ignored the darkness coming their way.
After supper they ate sweets and drank Keshian coffee with small glasses of an exquisite fortified wine from Rodez. As Erik felt a warm glow fill him from head to toe, Calis hurried into the dining room. “Sorry to intrude,” he said without greeting, “but a message has arrived.”
James stood and held out his hand, and Calis gave him the message. William said, “From Land’s End?”
“Yes, by fast riders. The invaders’ fleet was sighted just after dawn yesterday.”
William said, “With a favorable wind, that will put them off the point the day after tomorrow.”
James nodded. “It begins.”
Erik squinted, trying to will sight in the gloom. He stood on the outer breakwater, on the forward firing platform. As he had threatened, Greylock had seem that Captain de Beswick was given the dubious honor of being the first officer to face the enemy at Krondor’s wall.
If the formerly hostile Captain felt any resentment over Erik’s promotion, placing him above the career officer from Bas-Tyra, he hid it well, and was nothing if not polite when Erik gave him orders.
“Where are they?” asked Erik.
De Beswick said nothing, realizing the question was rhetorical. As the sun lit the sky to the east, the western horizon continued to be cloaked in fog and darkness, accommodating the enemy’s advance. De Beswick said, “I know little about this sea, Captain, but if the weather is at all like Bas-Tyra’s, the haze should burn off by midmorning.”
Erik said, “By midmorning you may have warships sitting close enough to throw rocks at.” He looked over the defenses for what seemed to be the hundredth time since he had returned from his inspection of the nearby defenses to the east of the city.
Long minutes dragged on, and Erik kept returning to examining those forward elements. The outer breakwater had been restructured, so that to reach Krondor harbor a ship now had to sail as far south as possible around a large jetty, atop which sat the platform Erik stood on; that was manned by a company of catapult crews, bowmen, and a shoreside detachment, all armed to the teeth. Any ship approaching this end of the jetty would be fired upon. The seawall ran almost due north, separated from the inner wall by a distance of less than a quarter mile. At the north end of the wall, another company waited, and any ship attempting to come up the channel between the inner and outer walls would be subject to a withering cross fire. Across the water on the inner wall, another company of soldiers manned their war engines. Erik considered that once the enemy saw the new defenses, their only choice would be to attempt to seize all three platforms. If they were foolish enough to send ships into the channel before they cleared away the defenders, they ran the risk of a ship’s being sunk to block the channel. What Erik knew and they didn’t was that a clever set of traps awaited the ships that came through that channel, even if the defenders were swept away from the walls.
Erik looked at the small boat tied off below, less than twenty feet down a rope ladder dropped over the edge of the platform. “I’m going to leave you the boat,” said Erik. He knew that the men on this and the next three stations were likely to be obliterated before they could withdraw.
De Beswick looked at Erik, and raised an eyebrow in question.
“If you need to send a message in a hurry, it’s faster than running along the top of the wall.”
“Of course,” said de Beswick. Then, after a moment, he said, “Rather decent of you, actually.”
Erik put his hand on the man’s shoulder and said, “Goodbye and good luck.”
He ran along the top of the jetty, along the small path cut atop the mountains of rocks placed there by convict labor so that the ballista and catapult platforms could be installed. For more than three quarters of a mile he trotted to the second platform, where he accepted the salutes of the officers waiting there. He didn’t stop to speak, but continued along, turning eastward at the top of the inverted U the two walls formed. For a quarter mile the Knight-Captain of the Prince’s army hurried along, them turned south. The day was getting warmer, and Erik was perspiring when he reached the third platform. He quickly inspected stores and equipment, then turned back north. The last platform was the most isolated, for as at the first one on the outer wall, the men would have to flee along the exposed path and across the rock jetty to reach the old north jetty, which had traditionally shielded Krondor’s harbor from the Bitter Sea’s south-running tides.
By the time Erik got to the point where the old jetty reached the northmost dock, he found a company of Palace Guards waiting for him. Erik mounted a horse being held for him, and led the patrol through the mass of soldiers on the docks. Every possible barricade had been erected, and the first three blocks into the city were a killing zone. Every upper window of every building housed an archer, and Erik marveled at the defenses planned by William and James. The lower windows were barricaded and the doors locked, and a clever set of easily moved ramps had been constructed so the defenders in the upper stories could withdraw by crawling from building to building, while others covered their retreat. What had surprised Erik wasn’t the number of citizens who had fled the city once the construction of the defenses began but, rather, those who had to be evicted, despite the evidence before their eyes of the coming battle. Many had been carried by main force out of their homes, or marched out at spearpoint.
At the third corner from the docks, Erik and his men reached the first barricade. They were waved through and headed toward the palace.
As they moved away from the dock area, Erik saw the fearful faces of the populace, some peeking out of doorways, and others hurrying off on one errand or another before war came to Krondor. Many carried large bags of their belongings on their backs and were heading toward the east, where they would attempt to leave the city before fighting began.
Erik knew that James would allow refugees to trickle out of the city, in a controlled fashion, until the enemies were ashore and the eastern gates needed to be closed. From reports he had read the night before, Erik knew the foulburg—the portion of the city built beyond the ancient walls—was all but deserted. Local patrols of constables had arrested and hanged a dozen looters over the last week.
A trader with a pushcart hurried past, shouting he had food to sell, and Erik was certain the man would dispose of the last of his wares before noon. As Erik neared the palace, the level of traffic heading to the gate increased, and he ordered his escort to head around back toward the docks and then to the palace, to avoid the press of citize
ns.
They moved back down toward the docks, and as they rode along, one of the men in a second-story window above shouted, “Gods! Look at them!”
Erik lacked the man’s advantage of height, but he knew that the man could see the hostile fleet. “What do you see?”
The soldier looked down to see who asked, and, seeing the officer’s mark on Erik’s tunic, said, “Ships, sir! Must be a thousand of them.”
Erik didn’t wait. He kicked his horse into a canter and moved as fast as safety permitted toward the palace. He knew there weren’t a thousand enemy ships outside Krondor’s harbor, but he knew there were at least four hundred, by cautious estimation of how much of the fleet had survived.
Nicholas had hit them on one side of the Straits of Darkness while a flotilla from Elarial hit them from the south. At the same time squadrons of warships from Durbin and Queg raided the forward elements. James had reviewed the reports from lookouts who attempted to judge the size of the remaining fleet as it sailed past, then sent word by a series of relay riders, who would change horses every few miles. The raids had reduced the invader’s fleet by a fourth. Others had celebrated the damage done to the enemy until James had pointed out that left a mere four hundred and fifty warships heading toward Krondor.
So instead of three hundred thousand soldiers coming ashore within the next few days, only two hundred and twenty-five thousand would invade the Kingdom. Erik fought off the desire to surrender to despair.
He entered the palace via the sea gate, and gave his horse’s reins to a lackey. “I need a fresh horse,” he said, and ran off to his last meeting with Lord James and Knight-Marshal William.
He reached the conference room where William and James were overseeing the final briefing for the area commanders before they were dispatched to their respective garrisons. The palace gate out of the city was being held clear so that dispatch riders and those officers leaving could get out of the city before the riots of panic-stricken citizens began.
James stood by while William issued orders. “We should have ships beaching to the north of the city within the hour.” He pointed to two of the commanders who would see to coastal defenses just outside the city. “It’s time for you to be there, gentlemen. Good luck.”
Rage of a Demon King Page 32