Roo said he would let the Duke know, and he departed. As he left the palace he considered how his fate was once again linked to that of the Crown, and how no matter how he tried, he could not free himself of the fate dictated for him the moment he and Erik had killed Stefan.
As he reached the gate, he realized he had neither horse nor carriage waiting for him. Then he decided the walk to the office would help set his mind to what he would need to say to Frederick Jacoby when he told him his sons were dead.
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ahead. They had been hearing faint sounds for nearly ten minutes, but the origin of them was unclear.
There were side passages and galleries in profusion, and noises echoed in strange and disorienting fashion.
A few minutes later they returned. “It’s filled with lizards,” whispered one of the scouts. Erik signaled the man to follow him to where Calis and the others waited and the man quickly diagramed how the gallery was laid out.
It was an almost perfect half circle, with a long ramp down from the entrance, running to the right, and a flat ridge running to the left. The swordsmen would charge down the ramp, while the archers would follow, deploying to the left, to rain arrows down upon the serpents.
Calis gave orders, and Erik and de Loungville relayed them. Erik heard Calis tell Boldar to stay with Miranda and guard her, then Calis was moving past, insisting on taking the lead personally.
As was the case before, each man did exactly as he was bidden to do, without hesitation or confusion, but once into the gallery, the battle was joined. And as Erik had learned firsthand, and had read in every book William had given him to read, once the battle was joined, plans were so much chaff on the wind.
These Pantathians were full-sized adults, half again as big as those young warriors they had fought earlier in the day. The tallest measured just short of Erik’s chin, and their best warrior was no match for Calis’s meanest, but they had numbers on their side.
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the Pantathians were battling. He assumed it was with that third player Calis referred to.
Every man in the company knew that surprise only gained them a slight advantage, and that they must quickly press that advantage, killing as many Pantathians as possible. Orders were passed on the other side of the hall, the hissing language of the serpent priests impossible to understand. Erik laid about him with as much efficiency as he could muster; in the first two minutes of battle, a snake man died for each blow he delivered.
Then the defense got organized and began to push the attackers back. Just as the tide of battle seemed to tip, the twenty bowmen took up position on the ridge overlooking the gallery and began to rain arrows down upon the Pantathians.
Erik shouted, “Advance!” and waded into the dying foe-men, and could hear others repeat his order. As before, the Pantathians refused to yield and stood their ground, dying either by arrow or by sword blow.
Then it was silent.
Erik glanced around and could see twitching bodies all around. A few were his own men, but most were greenskinned. He glanced around, taking mental inventory, then after looking twice, turned to find de Loungville, gasping for breath, standing a short distance away. “We have seven down, Sergeant Major.”
De Loungville nodded. Erik directed others to get the wounded and move them back up to the ridge where the archers waited. Erik then joined de Loungville, Calis, and Miranda in inspecting the hall. Scouts were sent into nearby galleries, barely prince.qxd 9/4/02 10:38 AM Page 486
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visible in the light.
The air was humid and hot. Breathing was difficult. A crack in the floor along the far wall bled steam in a steady flow. Several of the Pantathians were still alive, and Calis’s men quickly executed them. The orders had been defined: if it was a Pantathian, kill it. No serpent man, woman, or child was to be spared. Erik had felt little concern for the order, but the men had discussed it.
After a battle in which comrades had fallen, carrying out the orders was easy enough. Then a scout called out, “Sergeant! Over here!”
Erik turned and trotted over. “What is it?”
“Look, sir.”
Erik looked at a gallery and saw a bubbling pool of hot water in the center of the room. It had obviously been hollowed out by the serpent priests, as the marks of tools were visible in the rocks. More than a dozen large eggs were arrayed around the pool, close enough to incubate, but not so close as to cook the young.
One of the eggs was moving.
Erik approached the egg as a fracture appeared along one side, and then with a loud crack, it split.
The tiny body that tumbled out was little larger than a dog. It blinked as if confused and cried in a sound that was eerily like that of a human baby.
Erik raised his sword and hesitated as the tiny creature made its inquisitive crying sounds. Then the baby Pantathian turned its gaze upon Erik.
The baby’s eyes narrowed, and Erik saw hatred in those newborn orbs. With animosity bordering on rage, the tiny creature hissed and hurled itself at Erik.
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Reflexively Erik brought his blade down, severing the tiny creature’s head from its shoulders.
Erik felt his gorge rise, and swallowing hard, shouted, “Break them!”
The scout joined him and they smashed the remaining eggs. Tiny bodies spilled from the eggs and Erik found himself wishing he could have been anywhere else. The stench that quickly rose from the creatures was noxious beyond anything he had endured.
Leaving the chamber after the grisly work was over, Erik saw others repeating his actions in other galleries close by. More than one man left the galleries retching at what they had seen.
After a few minutes, Miranda said, “There is something….”
“What?” said Calis.
“I don’t know . . . but it’s close.”
Calis stood motionless, then said, “I think I know what it is.” He moved to a tunnel leading downward.
“This way.”
De Loungville said, “Two dead, five wounded, only one too badly to keep up.”
Only the briefest flickering of the muscles along Calis’s jaw betrayed his pain at hearing that report.
Calis was starting toward the ramp leading to where the wounded were being cared for when de Loungville said, “I’ll ask him.”
Erik knew that Bobby was going to ask the man if he preferred a quick death at the hands of his comrades, or if he wished to risk being left alone to whatever fate brought him, hoping that Calis’s company would return this way and be able to pick him up.
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least he thought he did, and wondered how de Loungville could volunteer for such a task.
Then, as the other wounded and the archers descended the ramp, Erik realized that he knew exactly why Bobby could do it. He had seen the horrors of the Pantathians and their allies firsthand, and a well-thrust knife blade and a single moment of hot pain was far better for one of your companions than the lingering agony you would suffer if captured.
A strangled grunt of pain told Erik how the man had chosen. De Loungville returned, his face set in an unreadable mask, and he said, “Form up the column.”
Erik gave the order and the men got ready to move on.
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Revelations
Roo sighed.
He had left the palace and walk
ed home, thinking the entire way about the best manner to approach Frederick Jacoby. If the old man was more like the quiet Randolph, an accommodation might be reached. If he was like the volatile Timothy, the feud would almost certainly continue until one house or the other was destroyed.
Roo entered his home. The only noise came from the kitchen, where Rendel and Mary readied fond for the day. The upstairs hallway was still, and he knew he’d find his wife and children still sleeping. He wondered at the hour, and realized he had no idea what time it was. From the light, no later than eight of the clock.
He pushed open the door to the room Karli slept in with the baby, and found her asleep. He now considered waking her, but decided to wait until the baby demanded feeding. Roo walked softly to the bedside and studied his wife and son in the dim light coming through the curtains.
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In the shadows, Karli looked very young. Roo suddenly felt terribly old and sat down in the rocking chair Karli used to soothe the baby when he was fussy. He didn’t sleep as well as his sister had, and cried more often.
Roo ran his hand over his face, feeling fatigue in his bones. His eyes were gritty and his mouth had a bitter taste in it: too much coffee and a hint of bile from killing men.
Roo closed his eyes.
Some time later the baby’s cry woke him. Karli sat up and said, “What is it?” She saw her husband in the chair. “Roo?”
“I must have fallen asleep.”
“Why didn’t you go to bed?” she asked.
“I have something to tell you,” he answered as she began to nurse the hungry child.
“What?”
“The men who killed your father are dead.”
She didn’t react.
After a moment he said, “They attempted to ruin me, and I found out in time. We fought . . . and they’re dead. I just came from the palace and a long discussion of these events with the Duke.”
“Then it’s over,” she said.
“Not quite,” said Roo.
Karli stared at him a moment. “Why not?”
“The two men have a father.” He took a deep breath. “Your father had an old rival, Frederick Jacoby.”
She nodded. “They were boys together, in the Advarian community up in Tannerus.” Her voice softened. “I think they were friends once. Why? Did he have Father killed?”
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“No, his son Timothy ordered it. I think his brother Randolph may have helped, or at least he knew about it and didn’t do anything to prevent it.”
“So those men are dead?”
“Yes.”
“But Frederick is still alive,” observed Karli. She looked sad, as if on the verge of weeping. “So you have to kill him, too?”
Roo said, “I don’t know. I need to make some sort of peace with him if I can.” He stood up. “And I should go do it now. The Duke insists.”
Roo started around the bed, then paused and turned. He leaned over and kissed the back of the baby’s head, then kissed Karli on the cheek. “I probably won’t get home until supper. And what I really need is sleep.”
She reached out with her left hand and gripped his right. “Be careful.”
He squeezed her hand in reply and left the room.
He called down to Mary to have his coach brought around, went to his room, quickly washed up and changed his tunic. Then he went downstairs and out the door. His coach was there, and as he entered, he saw another figure waiting inside for him.
Dash nodded in greeting. “Feeling better?”
“Tired,” said Roo. “What brings you here?”
“Grandfather thought it prudent if I tagged along.
Mr. Jacoby might have servants or other members of his household who are going to take the news of the brothers’ death badly.” He pointed to the sword that lay across his knees.
Roo nodded. “You know how to use that?”
“Better than most,” Dash said without boasting.
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before the Jacoby residence. Dash followed Roo out of the carriage and to the door. Roo hesitated a moment, then knocked. A young woman opened the door a few moments later. She was pretty in an unspectacular way—dark hair and eyes, strong chin and straight nose. “Yes? May I help you?” she asked.
Roo found he could barely bring himself to speak. He didn’t know what to say. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “My name is Rupert Avery.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I know your name, Mr. Avery. It is not one spoken with affection in this house.”
“I can imagine,” Roo said. He took a deep breath.
“I suspect it will be even less so when you discover what brings me here. I would like to speak to Frederick Jacoby.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” said the young woman. “He doesn’t see visitors.”
Roo’s expression betrayed something, for after a moment the woman said, “What is it?”
Dash said, “Pardon me, ma’am. Who are you?”
“I’m Helen. Randolph’s wife.”
Roo closed his eyes and then took a deep breath.
“I fear I have grave tidings for you and for your father-in-law.”
The woman’s knuckles where she gripped the door whitened. “Randy’s dead, isn’t he?”
Roo nodded. “May I come in, please?”
The woman stepped back and it was clear she was close to fainting. Dash moved and took her by the elbow, keeping her upright. Just then two children ran into the entry hall, complaining over a childish inequity. She separated the two of them, a boy and girl, looking to Roo to be about four and six.
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“Children,” she said, “go to your room and play quietly.”
“But, Mother,” said the boy, irritated at his complaint being ignored.
“Go to your room!” she said sharply.
The boy looked injured by the command, but the girl just skipped away, counting their mother’s deafness to the boy’s grievance a victory in the eternal sibling war.
When the children were gone, she looked at Roo and said, “How did Randy die?”
Roo said, “We had cornered Randolph and Timothy at the docks—they were trying to make off with gold they had taken from me—and Timothy tried to attack me. Randolph pushed him aside, and was killed by a crossbow bolt fired at Timothy.”
Trying to think of anything that might lessen the sting the woman felt, he said, “It was over quickly.
He was acting to save his brother.”
Helen’s eyes filled with tears, but her tone was one of anger. “He was always trying to save his brother! Is Tim alive?”
“No,” said Roo softly. He took a deep breath. “I killed him.”
As the woman turned, Dash said, “It was a fair duel, ma’am. Timothy died with weapons in his hand, tryng to kill Mr. Avery.”
“Why are you here?” said the woman. “Are you here to gloat over the fall of the house of Jacoby?”
“No,” said Roo. “I’m here because Duke James asked me to come.” He sighed, feeling more tired than he had ever felt in his life. “I had nothing against your husband, or you or your father, ma’am.
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have my partner—my father-in-law—killed. Tim was trying to ruin me.”
Helen turned her back on them. “I have no doubt of that, Mr. Avery. Please follow me.”
She led them through a large hallway, and Roo saw that the house was much larger than one might think from the st
reet, being very deep in its plan.
Then they entered a garden at the rear of the house, surrounded by a large stone wall. An old man sat alone in a chair, bundled in heavy robes, with a large quilt over his knees. As they approached, Roo saw his eyes were blinded by cataracts, and then that part of his face was motionless. “Yes? Who’s there?” he said, his speech slurred and his voice weak.
Helen raised her voice. “It’s me, Father!” To Roo she said, “He’s hard of hearing. He had a seizure two years ago. He’s been like this ever since.”
She turned to face Roo. “It’s your chance, Mr.
Avery. All that’s left of the once-great trading house of Jacoby is a blind, half-deaf crazy old man, a woman, and two children. You can kill us all now and put an end to this feud.”
Roo put up his hand and his expression was one of total helplessness. “Please. I .. . I have no wish to see any more suffering for either of our families.”
“No suffering?” she said, as again tears came.
“How am I to make do? Who’s to run the business?
Who will care for us? It would be far kinder for you to pull your sword and put us all out of our misery.”
She began to cry in earnest, and Dash stepped forward and let her lean against his shoulder as she sobbed.
“Helen?” said the old man, his speech slurred by the affliction of his seizure. “Is something amiss?”
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Roo went and knelt by the old man. “Mr.
Jacoby?”
“Who is this?” he said, reaching out with his left arm. Roo saw that his right lay motionless in his lap.
Roo took the left hand and said, “My name is Rupert Avery.” He spoke loudly.
“Avery? Do I know you, sir?” asked the old man.
“Knew a Klaus Avery when . . . no, that was Klaus Klamer. What was the Avery boy’s name?”
Roo said, “No, I don’t think I’ve had the honor of meeting you before. But I . . . knew an old friend of yours. Helmut Grindel.”
“Helmut!” said the old man with a grin. Saliva dribbled from the side of his mouth.
Helen composed herself, and with a thank-you pat to Dash’s shoulders, she came and used a hand-kerchief to wipe the old man’s chin.