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Authors: Raymond E. Feist

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BOOK: Krondor the Assassins
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‘‘My father started off as a kitchen boy.’’

Treggar laughed. ‘‘But he didn’t stay one, did he?’’

William chuckled. ‘‘That’s the truth. If you had your choice, what would you do?’’

‘‘I’d like to meet a woman. She doesn’t have to be someone of rank. Just a nice woman. I’d like a post where I’m in charge.

Where I’m not always looking over my shoulder to see if the swordmaster or knight-marshal, or a duke or anyone else, is watching to see if I’m going to lose my temper and beat some young cadet over the head. I just want to do my job. Even somewhere like that little outpost we refit near Shandon Bay.

Fifty men, a sergeant, chasing smugglers, thumping bandits, home for dinner.’’

William laughed. ‘‘If we get out of here, I’ll be happy to go with you and just be left to do my job. I just found out last week the Prince expects things from me.’’

‘‘That’s a burden. Being royal family, I mean.’’

‘‘So they tell me.’’

They lapsed into silence.

Finally, William said, ‘‘I wonder what James is doing?’’

*

*

*

251

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James was crawling on his stomach, as silently as he could. He had found one route past the perimeter of the closest population of assassins, but he knew William and Treggar would never be able to win past it undetected; it had taxed his considerable skills to avoid being seen. Now he was trying to find another route, and a broken sewer pipe was providing the way, as long as it got no smaller.

The structure was ancient. Kesh had abandoned the fortress centuries ago, for reasons lost in history. A revolt in the interior of the Empire, or down in the subject nations of the Keshian Confederacy. Perhaps a power struggle in the heart of the Empire itself.

In the scant light from the taper he lit from time to time, James had seen enough to wish he had more leisure time in which to investigate fully. He had found a room full of ancient bones, many obviously dumped there recently. James assumed the present occupants of the fortress had moved them there.

He had also found stones from above, weathered and sun-bleached, piled in several larger rooms—one he judged an officer’s mess, and three barracks rooms—which surprised him. He deduced that the assassins had found some remaining structure from the ancient fortress above ground and had labored to remove traces of their lair.

James saw light ahead and moved even more cautiously. He inched his way until he was directly under the light. The upper portion of the pipe was broken below a large hole in the floor.

James was below the level of the floor, lying on his stomach.

He slowly turned over and then sat up even more slowly.

The room was empty. He got up.

He was in a guardroom of some sort, with cell doors in three walls. The guardroom door let out into another long dark 252

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hall. James peered into the nearest cell through a small barred opening in an iron door. A solitary man sat against the far wall, wearing only a white linen breechcloth. ‘‘Hey!’’ James whispered.

The man’s head came up and he blinked as he tried to make out the features of the man whose head blocked the small window. ‘‘Who are you?’’ he whispered in the King’s Tongue.

‘‘James, squire of Krondor.’’

The man scrambled to his feet and came to the window, where James could see his features. ‘‘I’m Edwin of the Pathfinders.’’

James nodded. ‘‘I saw them sacrifice your companion a few hours ago.’’

‘‘That was Benito,’’ he said. ‘‘They killed Arawan the night before. I’m next unless you get me out of here.’’

‘‘Patience,’’ said James. ‘‘If I let you out now and they come and check on you, they’ll know we’re in the stronghold.’’

‘‘How many of you are there?’’

‘‘Three. Myself and two officers. We’re waiting for the Prince to arrive.’’

‘‘So are the assassins,’’ said Edwin. ‘‘I don’t know what they’re planning, but I understand enough of their speech to have some sense they know His Highness is on his way and are preparing a welcome for him.’’

‘‘The demon,’’ said James.

‘‘A demon?’’ whispered Edwin. ‘‘I knew it was some sort of dark magic . . .’’

‘‘I’ll be back,’’ said James. ‘‘If they plan on sacrificing you tonight, that gives me the better part of a day to find a way out of here.’’

‘‘I know a way out! They caught me at the eastern edge of 253

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their fortress. They’ve opened an ancient gate, probably a sally-port. Horsemen could ride through it two abreast.’’

‘‘We found another way, a footpath cut deep into the rock next to the ancient main gate. But I can’t figure out how to open it from inside.’’

‘‘I can’t help you, squire. What do you plan to do?’’

‘‘Tell me first about the entrance you found.’’

‘‘There’s an underground stable where they keep their animals, next to an armory. From there a short but large hall leads to a drop-gate across a small dry moat. There are look-out positions, cleverly disguised, along the eastern face of this es-carpment, and anyone approaching that way will be seen long before he reaches the gate.’’

James considered. The overall layout of the place was coming into focus. ‘‘I’ll be back to get you. How long before the sacrifice will they come for you?’’

‘‘An hour. They feed us—me—once a day. That should be in a couple of hours.’’

‘‘Eat. You’ll need your strength. We’re leaving before they realize you’re missing.’’

With bitter humor, the Pathfinder said, ‘‘I’ll be here, squire.’’

James hurried to the far corridor. He moved quickly along one wall until he came to an intersection, then he vanished into the gloom.

William and Treggar both drew their daggers at the sound of movement. They had been lost in thought, after talking on and off for a time, when the approaching noise startled them.

‘‘Easy,’’ came James’s soft voice in the darkness. A moment later, he lit one of his tapers and said, ‘‘We have a problem.’’

‘‘Only one?’’ asked Treggar.

254

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‘‘Big one. The last of our Pathfinders is going to be sacrificed at midnight if we don’t get him out first.’’

‘‘Can we get him out?’’ asked William.

‘‘Yes.’’

‘‘Then we get him out,’’ said Treggar.

‘‘It’s not going to be easy. We have no food, water, or horses, and it’ll be at least two days before Arutha gets here—if he even knows where to find us. I’m not sure how many assassins are holing up here, but I’d hazard a guess of at least three hundred, maybe more.’’ James handed the taper to William. ‘‘Hold this.’’

He drew with his finger in the dust on the floor. ‘‘This is where we are,’’ he said, ‘‘and directly to the east of us is the main center for the Nighthawks, or whoever they really are.

To the north are some abandoned rooms, storage mostly. I spent a little time crawling around in the sewer—’’

Treggar said, ‘‘You don’t smell like it.’’

James shook his head. ‘‘That part of the sewer hasn’t been used for centuries.’’ He drew a rough rectangle around the areas he had outlined. ‘‘We’re in the southwestern corner of the old dungeon. We saw the armory, which they’re using as a temple.

The barracks seem to have become their commons, probably because the old below-ground kitchens are there. To the north are some empty rooms. To the east is their stable and there’s an old sally-port there they use as their main access.’’

‘‘What about the way we came in?’’ asked William.

‘‘I checked it again on my way back here. It’s a bolt-hole, but one with a hidden trigger. I suspect it was originally in-stalled that way to keep less faithful members of the Guild of Assassins from departing unexpectedly. The triggering mechanism is located behind a false rock at the last intersection you 255

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come to before reaching the door. It’s a tricky one; if you open it from the outside incorrectly, you spring a trap.’’

‘‘What kind?’’ asked Treggar.

‘‘I don’t know, and I wasn’t willing to experiment, but there were cogs and wires connected to the pivots. It’s even rigged to go off if you push the door in the wrong fashion. You push on the bottom, and you’re in trouble.’’

‘‘I thought the way you opened it looked pretty awkward,’’

William observed.

‘‘By design. The least comfortable way is the correct way.’’

‘‘How did you know?’’ asked William.

‘‘Old thieves don’t get that way by being stupid. Smart young thieves listen to them when they reminisce about how brilliant they were at springing traps. I was not a stupid young thief. I listened.’’ He chuckled. ‘‘The door has pivots on both sides, instead of hinges, so it wasn’t designed to be opened like a normal door. After that, I assumed the way you would most wish to open it would be the way most likely to get you killed.’’

‘‘What about the original western entrance?’’ asked Treggar.

James said, ‘‘I couldn’t find a direct route. But I think I found a way up.’’ He pointed to the rubble clogging the western wall of the storage room.

‘‘That’s the way up?’’ asked William.

‘‘Maybe,’’ answered James. ‘‘The main entrance would be a marshaling yard and bailey around a keep, I’m guessing. So the wall and gate would have stood right above us. There would have been a couple of quick routes from the armory back there—’’ he pointed down the corridor ‘‘—to the yard above us.’’

Treggar stood and inspected the fall. Most of the rocks were manageable, with large boulders clogging the bottom of 256

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the room. He picked one and tried to move it. After a few moments’ effort, he got it to move a little. He gave up.

James said, ‘‘I thought of that. The timbers here are weak.

Pull the wrong rock and the ceiling comes down on us. There is another corridor leading to a room even more filled with even more rocks to the north of here. So, unless there’s another way up, farther east, the only way out is through the way we came, or the east gate.’’

‘‘Which?’’

James said, ‘‘The way we came in is easiest, but as soon as they see Edwin the Pathfinder gone, they’ll comb the hills around here. If we take horses from their stable we might be able to steal a march on them. If we reach Arutha before they do . . .’’ He shrugged.

‘‘Have you even seen the stable?’’ asked Treggar. ‘‘Do we know how to open the gate? Is it a windlass and ropes? Is there a portcullis? Counterweights? Is it a drop-bridge over a moat or just flat rock on the other side of the doors?’’

‘‘Your point is taken, captain,’’ said James.

‘‘Besides,’’ said William. ‘‘If we escape and carry word to the Prince, will they still be here when the army arrives?

Wouldn’t it be easier for them to scatter and just set up somewhere else?’’

James looked at William and then said, ‘‘Yes, probably.’’ He sat back. ‘‘I need to think.’’

He extinguished the light and William and Treggar could hear him settle down, his back to the wall. For over an hour the three of them sat in silence.

Then James’s voice cut the darkness. ‘‘I have an idea!’’

*

*

*

257

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James lay motionless in the broken sewer pipe, listening.

When he was sure there was no movement, he climbed up into the guardroom next to Edwin’s cell.

He looked in.

Edwin glanced up and said, ‘‘Now?’’

‘‘Now,’’ said James, examining the lock. It was a simple mechanism, very old, and he could have opened it while blindfolded. He reached into his belt-pouch, pulled out a long metal probe and inserted it into the lock. A moment later he heard a satisfying ‘‘click’’ and turned the probe. The lock opened.

The Pathfinder came through the door immediately and followed James back into the sewer pipe. As they crawled through the darkness, Edwin said, ‘‘They’ll start searching when they find me missing.’’

James spoke softly as he pulled himself along. ‘‘I’m counting on it.’’

They reached the end of the pipe and James flipped forward, gripping the lip of the pipe with both hands and landed easily on the floor below. ‘‘I’m below you,’’ said James in a whisper. ‘‘Hang from the pipe and drop. It’s only three feet.’’

The Pathfinder dropped silently to the stones. James put his hand on his shoulder and whispered, ‘‘From here, silence.

Keep your hand on my shoulder, for we move in darkness.’’

James was relieved to discover Edwin was calm and sure-footed in this awkward situation. He neither hesitated nor hurried but followed at even pace, so James was slowed only a little.

Several times James halted and waited to hear if anyone else was moving nearby. He was pleased that not once did Edwin ask why.

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When they reached Treggar and William, Edwin finally spoke.

‘‘Thank you, James.’’

James lit a flame. ‘‘I’ve only got four more of these things, so we have to make them last.’’

Treggar said, ‘‘How did they catch you?’’

Edwin shrugged. ‘‘They know the land better than we. I took precautions, but there are large areas out there where any movement will be noticed by someone looking for it. Arawan and Benito and I were all caught within a day of one another.’’

Treggar said, ‘‘I thought the Prince sent four of you south.’’

Edwin smiled. ‘‘Bruno. He’s still out there.’’

‘‘Can you find him?’’ asked James.

Edwin nodded. ‘‘I can find him.’’

James said, ‘‘Good. I think I know a way I can get you out, after I steal us some food and water. You wait here.’’ Without another word, James put out the light and vanished.

‘‘I hate it when he does that,’’ muttered William.

Treggar just laughed softly.

James hugged the wall around the corner from the cook’s sleeping pallet. He had known he was hungry and thirsty, especially the latter, but it had hit him like a sledgehammer as he approached the kitchen. The rest of the garrison would be sleeping through the day, but the cooking staff would be up any minute to prepare the first meal of the new day.

BOOK: Krondor the Assassins
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