A soldier complied and Arutha examined it. ‘‘What dark words are written here someone else will have to say.’’
‘‘Highness, may I?’’ asked William.
Arutha handed over the book. ‘‘I am no practitioner of magic, sire, but I was a student.’’ William gave Arutha a half-smile. ‘‘As you know better than most,’’ he added softly, again embarrassed.
William read only a few lines, then he slammed the book shut. ‘‘I don’t know this language, but even so, these writings speak of power.’’ He said, ‘‘It chilled me even to look at the words. This is a matter for a priest, I think. For safety’s sake, Highness, don’t let anyone read it until wards have been placed around it.’’
Arutha nodded. He handed the book to a soldier and said,
‘‘In the saddle-bag on my horse. Guard it.’’
The soldier saluted and carried the book away. Looking at William, Arutha said, ‘‘This more than anything gives weight to my decision to revive the office of court magician. If our new magician was here, what would she say, do you think?’’
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tures as he considered a response to the Prince’s question. He fought the impulse to say something acid about Jazhara or to feign ignorance of her competence. But at last, as men spread out to search the area, William said, ‘‘I can only guess, Highness. But I know she would be able to tell us much about what has occurred here. She . . .’’ He hesitated, then said, ‘‘She is an exceptional student of the arts and is well-versed in lore.’’
‘‘Then doubly I wish she were here, today,’’ said Arutha.
They traveled through a hallway to what appeared to be sleeping quarters. Men went quickly through the rooms, emerging with several leather-bound books. Arutha ordered these also be carried back to Krondor.
They reached the last room at the end of a short hallway, wherein two soldiers were rifling a wooden chest. Nearby, another chest sat unopened, and as Arutha entered a soldier said,
‘‘There is a seal upon that one, Highness, and I thought it best not to tamper with it.’’
‘‘You did well,’’ said Arutha. ‘‘Bring it to Krondor and we’ll have an expert examine it.’’
From behind them a voice said, ‘‘Why go to Krondor when you have an expert here, Highness?’’
They turned to find James standing at the door, hand upon the jamb. He held up a fine-looking pair of boots. ‘‘I wasn’t leaving without them,’’ he said.
‘‘Are you well enough to be here?’’ asked the Prince.
‘‘I’m here, aren’t I?’’ answered James with a shrug and a weak attempt at bravado. ‘‘You didn’t expect me to sleep with all that noise the demon was making while you were killing it, did you?’’
Arutha smiled and shook his head slightly. ‘‘Tell me what you can about that chest.’’
James dropped to his knees and looked closely at the seal 322
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and lock. After a few moments of inspecting hinges, iron bands and sides, he said, ‘‘I can tell you it is a very good idea to take it back to Krondor. After a priest makes sure nothing particularly nasty will happen when that seal is broken, I’ll pick the lock. My tools are back in my apartment in the palace, sire.’’
One of the soldiers who had been searching the open trunk held out a parchment, and said, ‘‘Sire, I think you should read this.’’
Arutha glanced at the document and said, ‘‘Do you know what this is?’’
The soldier said, ‘‘Highness, I speak and read three Keshian tongues as well as the King’s Tongue. This writing is akin to a desert tribe’s language, yet not close enough that I can read it. But I do recognize a word here, Highness.’’
William restrained his curiosity, but James presumed to read over the Prince’s shoulder. ‘‘What is it, sire?’’
Softly, Arutha said, ‘‘It’s a name: Radswil of Olasko.’’ Turning quickly, he added, ‘‘William, stay and search every room. Ensure that every document you find here is brought back to the palace. James, you’re with me. We leave at once for Krondor.’’
William snapped out orders and men started running.
Despite his calm demeanor and even pace, no man in the room could miss the urgency radiated by the Prince of Krondor.
William watched as Arutha and James vanished down the hall, and then turned to conduct the final search of this foul nest. Already men were returning with firewood and oil, and when it came time to leave, William was glad he would be the one to put the torch to this place.
Coming out of his momentary reverie, William hurried to begin as thorough a search as if Arutha himself were remaining to oversee it.
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m
W IND whipped the standards.
After leaving the fortress, they had pushed hard and ridden the horses to the edge of exhaustion to reach the closest Kingdom garrison, six days’
travel instead of eight. Arutha pointed to the small fortress on the shore of Shandon Bay. Dust blew across the hills and the horses stamped impatiently, sensing that fresh water and food were not too far away.
James said, ‘‘Looks like we’ve got company.’’
He had slowly recovered while riding, and though he was not as hale as he would have been with bed-rest, most of his injuries were healing. He was still sore in more places than he cared to count, but he had sustained no permanent damage.
Arutha said, ‘‘Apparently.’’
When Arutha had sailed from Krondor to this base at the south end of Shandon Bay, he had ordered the ship to wait for the return voyage. Three other ships now sat at anchor off the tiny wharf.
James laughed. ‘‘That’s Amos’s ship, isn’t it?’’
‘‘ The Royal Leopard, yes,’’ answered Arutha. ‘‘And The Royal Adder and The Royal Hind. It’s the better part of his squadron.’’
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As they rode into the fortification, the local garrison had turned out and was waiting at attention. The captain in charge had prepared a reception, but Arutha had no time. He dismounted and walked over to greet the burly man who stood next to the captain.
‘‘Amos,’’ said Arutha, ‘‘by what chance of fate do we find the Admiral of the Western Fleet waiting on our convenience?’’
Amos Trask’s gray-shot black beard split with a grin. His eyes had a merry glint, one that both Arutha and James knew never left him—even in battle—and he answered in his usual booming voice. ‘‘I always make a sweep of this bay when I come south. I find that Keshian smugglers and the odd pirate waiting to ambush traders like to hide in the lees of the north shore if the weather’s nasty. I was making my usual rounds of the area when I spied The Royal Falcon there—’’ he pointed to the ship anchored near the wharf ‘‘—flying the royal household banner. So I asked myself, ‘What’s Arutha doing in this forlorn corner of the Kingdom?’ and I hove to and waited to find out.’’
Arutha said, ‘‘Well, as you have the faster ship, we’ll be transferring my personal belongings to the Leopard.’’
Amos grinned. ‘‘Already done.’’
‘‘How soon can we leave?’’
‘‘Within the hour,’’ said Amos. ‘‘If you wish to rest a bit, in the morning.’’
To the captain of the garrison, Arutha said: ‘‘Thank you for preparing the welcome, captain, but matters of state require my rapid return to Krondor.’’ To Captain Treggar he said: ‘‘Rest the men and horses for a day, then as soon as the baggage train catches up to us—’’
‘‘Again,’’ added James under his breath. Arutha had inter-327
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cepted his own baggage train along the way and had ordered it turned around as he had sped past.
‘‘—b
oard the Falcon.’’
‘‘Understood, Highness,’’ said Treggar.
William and his squad had caught up with Arutha late the second day after leaving the fortress, carrying a large number of documents and a few items believed to have magical properties.
Arutha said, ‘‘Lieutenant, bring along what you’ve found and sail back with me.’’ He turned to Amos. ‘‘We leave now.’’
Amos stepped aside to make way for the Prince. ‘‘I anticipated your order, Arutha, so we weigh anchor as soon as you’re aboard.’’
Arutha signaled and his horse was brought over. He retrieved the saddle-bag containing the books and papers taken from the assassins, and handed them to William, who was carrying a similar bag filled with parchments and books. Arutha then led the way to the water’s edge where a longboat waited to row them out to the admiral’s ship.
Arutha, William, and James boarded, followed by Amos.
Sailors and soldiers shoved the boat out into the calm waters of the bay.
Within an hour they were aboard and the three ships were in full sail, departing on the evening tide. Arutha and James took the admiral’s cabin; Amos bunked in with the First Officer, William with a junior officer. By the time James had unpacked, a knock on the cabin door announced the arrival of the admiral.
Amos sat down at his own table, and said, ‘‘I’ve sent for a little supper.’’ Glancing at James he added, ‘‘Jimmy, me lad, I’ve seen you battered and bruised before, but this looks like a personal best. Good story?’’
James nodded. ‘‘Better than most.’’
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Arutha smiled at his old friend. ‘‘Glad I am to see you, and for more than the fast voyage.’’
Another knock came to the door and William appeared.
‘‘Highness,’’ he said in greeting. ‘‘Admiral.’’
Amos said, ‘‘I know you. You’re Pug’s son. Haven’t seen you in, what? Ten years?’’
William blushed a little and said, ‘‘Something like that, sir.’’
‘‘Well pull up a seat and rest yourself. Supper should—’’ He was interrupted by a knock at the door. ‘‘Enter!’’ he bellowed. The door opened and a pair of sailors appeared with food and drink.
After they had served the meal, they departed. Amos took a long pull on a flagon of wine and said, ‘‘So, then, what’s the story?’’
Arutha outlined all that had happened, from the seemingly unconnected murders in Krondor right up to the raid on the Nighthawks’ lair.
‘‘So we have this document, in a tongue neither William nor I can read, but the Duke of Olasko’s name is on it.’’
‘‘Let me see it,’’ said the former pirate. ‘‘I picked up a number of desert tongues when I . . . sailed along the Keshian coast.’’
James smiled. Trenchard the pirate had raided Keshian ports as often as Kingdom ports in his youth. Amos read the document twice. ‘‘The problem is that not only is this one of the more obscure dialects, the scribe was only semi-literate. Anyway, from what I get out of this, it’s a death order. Someone is paying . . . no, I’m assuming. Someone has ordered the assassins to kill the Duke of Olasko.’’
Arutha said, ‘‘But we think that’s a false trail.’’
‘‘Really?’’ asked Amos. ‘‘Tell me more.’’
‘‘The Crown Prince of Olasko is also in the party and from the reports of the officer in charge of the attack on the duke, it appears it was really him they were after.’’
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Amos sat back. He read the document again and said, ‘‘There are some other names here, Vladic and Kazamir, and Paulina.’’
‘‘Members of the Royal House of Olasko and Roldem,’’
said Arutha.
‘‘Someone wants them dead, too.’’
Amos studied the document a bit, then shoved it aside.
‘‘Well, I’d get another opinion on the translation, Arutha. Have an expert look at it, because I might be wrong.’’ After a moment of reflection, he said, ‘‘But, either way it looks like someone wants to start a war between the Kingdom and Olasko.’’
‘‘Who?’’ asked William.
Amos looked at William and his eyebrows went up. ‘‘Find out why, and that will tell you who.’’
James sat back. Looking out the large sterncastle windows, he saw the little moon rising as he considered what Amos had just said. Softly he wondered aloud, ‘‘Why?’’
The weather was nearly perfect when they sailed into sight of Krondor. Amos had broken out both his personal banner as Admiral of the King’s Fleet in the West and the Prince’s royal pennant, and ships cleared the harbor as he headed for the royal docks.
The always-efficient Master of Ceremonies de Lacy had a formal guard waiting on the dock, along with the Princess and the children. Arutha endured the barest minimum of ceremony and spared a moment to kiss his wife and each child. Then he excused himself, James and Amos to a meeting with his staff.
Anita knew her husband well enough to recognize that the matter was urgent, and she took the children back to the royal apartments. Arutha gave orders for his best translators of Keshian desert languages to attend him by the time he had changed into clean clothing.
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William bid James good-bye and hurried to the bachelor officers’ quarters, where he endured a dozen questions from the other junior officers as he hurried to bathe and don a fresh uniform.
Gordon O’Donald came up the stairs as William was finishing a quick polish of his boots and said, ‘‘William! My best friend, how goes it?’’
William smiled. ‘‘Best friend?’’
‘‘I’m giving you credit for getting Treggar out of here for the last few weeks. I can’t say it’s been heaven, but it’s the closest thing to it I’ve experienced in a while.’’
William fixed him with a skeptical eye. ‘‘I think you judge the captain harshly, Gordon. Take my word: if you’re in a fight, he’s who you want standing next to you.’’
Gordon rubbed his chin. ‘‘Well, if you say so. Certainly the mess has been a great deal calmer.’’
William chuckled, then said, ‘‘How do I look?’’
‘‘Like a freshly-washed lieutenant.’’
‘‘Good. I have to head back to the Prince’s council room.’’
‘‘Ah, I thought perhaps you were going to visit your little friend over at The Rainbow Parrot.’’
William had just started down the stairway, and he almost tripped, he turned around so quickly. ‘‘Talia?’’
O’Donald said, ‘‘I checked up on her a few times while you were away.’’
As William’s expression darkened, Gordon quickly said, ‘‘As a friend, of course.’’
With a grim smile, William echoed, ‘‘Of course.’’
Indulging in a theatrical sigh, O’Donald said, ‘‘Which is a good thing. That girl would have none of me. Or any other lad, I think. Seems you’ve got yourself a sweetheart, Will.’’
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William couldn’t control his grin. ‘‘Really?’’
O’Donald gave him a playful shove. ‘‘Don’t keep the Prince waiting. I’m sure you’ll get some free time later to visit Talia.’’
William was so distracted by Gordon’s comment that he almost fell down the stairs, just catching himself on the next step. Laughing, Gordon said, ‘‘Go on. You can’t keep the Prince waiting.’’
William hurried through the armory and across the marshaling yard to the palace. By the time he arrived, the others were also arriving at the Prince’s council chamber.
William glanced around and James waved him to come sit beside him near the Prince. Between the Prince and James was the chair reserved for the Knight-Marshal of Krondor, empty since Gardan’s retirement. Amos had joined the co
uncil, which also included Captain Guruth, Sheriff Means, and Captain Issacs who commanded the Royal Household Guard.
Arutha said, ‘‘I have a half-dozen of our scribes who are fluent in the more obscure Keshian dialects examining those scrolls. Father Belson of the Temple of Prandur is examining the chest and will be here shortly with his initial impressions.’’
He looked at the two captains and the sheriff, and said, ‘‘For those of you who were not with us, let me sum up our situation.’’
Even after ten years in the Prince’s service, James marveled at how Arutha’s mind worked. He knew exactly how to impart the necessary information without embellishment, yet with enough detail to drive home the relative weight of the various topics.
As Arutha was finishing his background for the two captains and the sheriff, Father Belson entered the room.
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art available to me and as far as I can determine, there is nothing mystic about that seal. It appears to be a simple wax seal designed to show if the chest has been opened or not.’’
Arutha waved him to an empty chair. ‘‘We’ll examine it after we adjourn.’’ To the group, he said, ‘‘I want the guard doubled on the duke and his family until they depart.’’
Captain Issacs looked uncomfortable as he said, ‘‘Sire, His Grace is recovering from his injuries, and is complaining about the guards we have protecting him now. He’s . . . made the acquaintance of a number of ladies who . . . visit him.’’
Arutha looked caught between irritation and amusement.
‘‘Well, the best advice I can offer, captain, is to remind the duke that his wife would certainly want him protected. Perhaps within earshot of those . . . ladies, you mentioned.’’
James grinned and William had to struggle to keep a straight face. Amos laughed out loud and slapped the table. He started to say something, but Arutha cut him off. ‘‘Don’t you dare tell me I take the fun out of life, Amos.’’