Shards of a Broken Crown (46 page)

Knowing nothing
else, he had found his way to a village outside the city, where he
worked as a servant for a family who fed him and clothed him in
exchange for work. At sixteen, he returned to Krondor and enlisted in
the Prince’s army.

By the time he
was twenty-five, Subai was the leader of the Pathfinders. But now,
ten years later, he still remembered the sound of the slaver’s
whip as it cracked through the air.

There were still
five Pathfinders with him as they reached the area east of Quester’s
View. Two had been dispatched south already, carrying back
intelligence to Marshal Greylock. There had been no fortifications
like the one halfway between Sarth and Quester’s View. There
had been two observation towers, with relay riders ready to carry
word when the Kingdom forces reached a certain point in their journey
north. Subai had drawn detailed maps showing them, and Erik’s
best avenue of approach was to take them out before they could send
warning north. Subai had faith in von Darkmoor, and knew his Crimson
Eagles would take those positions quickly.

Subai had left
four of his Pathfinders high in the hills above where he and his
companion worked their way down steep hillsides to oversee the sounds
coming from the highway. Their horses were far enough above them now
that they didn’t worry about being discovered unless the two
men blundered into a sentry.

Given the
treacherous footing on the hills as they made their way down toward
the coast, Subai doubted there even was a guard up here. Each step
was made slowly, so as not to dislodge stones and send a man rolling
down the mountain to his death.

The trees were
thick enough there were ample handholds, but the going was difficult.

When they
reached the edge of a high ridge, with a veritable cliff below them
to another steep slope fifty feet below, Subai knew the effort had
been worth it. Without speaking he withdrew a roll of fine parchment
from within his tunic and removed a tiny box, along with some writing
sticks. With economy, he sketched what he saw before him and added a
few notes. At the bottom he wrote a short commentary, then he put
away his writing implements. To his companion he said, “Study
what you see below.”

They remained
for a full hour, watching as slave gangs of Kingdom citizens dug deep
trenches along the route Greylock’s army would have to take.
Walls were being built, but unlike the earthen barricade down south,
these were huge constructions of stone and iron. A forge had been
constructed near the front, and its hellish glow cast a reddish light
over hundreds of poor wretches laboring for the invaders. Guards
walked along, many carrying whips which they used to keep the
miserable workers hard at their labor.

The sound of
sawing also reached them, and they saw a lumber mill had also been
constructed near the coast. Riders came down the road and wagons
pulled by oxen slowly made their way toward the construction.

As night fell,
Subai said, “We must be back up the hill, else we’re
stuck here through the night.”

He stood and, as
he took a step, heard his companion say, “Captain, look!”

Subai looked
where the man pointed and swore. Along the road, as far as the eye
could trace, in the evening gloom, other lights burned brightly; more
forges and torches and tantalizing hints that told Subai one cold
fact. The Kingdom could not win this war fighting the way it was. He
started up the hill, knowing that he would have to wait until first
light, then begin a long report to Greylock. Then he would have to
race north and reach Yabon before it fell. With LaMut, Zun, and Ylith
in enemy hands, Subai realized the King and Prince of Krondor did not
realize how close they were to losing Yabon Province forever.

And should Yabon
be lost, it would only be a matter of time before the invaders turned
south again and attempted to retake Krondor and the West.

Wind swept the
beach.

Pug walked hand
in hand with Miranda as the sun rose in the east. They had been
walking and talking all night and were close to agreement about
several critical issues facing them.

“But I
don’t see why you have to do anything now,” said Miranda.
“I thought after relaxing in Elvandar for those weeks and
getting rid of all that anger you had directed at the Prince, well, I
thought you could just ignore Patrick’s stupidity.”

Pug grinned.
“Ignoring stupidity in a merchant or servant is one thing;
ignoring it in a Prince is quite a different thing. It’s not
the simple question of the Saaur. That’s merely a symptom. It’s
the entire issue of who is, at the end, responsible for my power, me
or the crown?”

“I
understand,” she said, “but why rush this decision? Why
not wait until it’s clear that you’re being told to act
against your conscience?”

“Because I
want to avoid a situation where I’m faced with two evils, and
must act to prevent the greater evil by embracing the lesser.”

Miranda said,
“Well, I still think you may be rushing things.”

“I’m
not about to fly to Krondor and explain my stance to Patrick until
I’ve taken care of a few other things,” Pug said.

They climbed
over some rocks and picked their way among some tidal pools. Pug
said, “When I was a boy in Crydee, I used to beg Tomas’s
father to let me go to the pools south of town, where I looked for
rockclaws and crabs; he made the best shellfish stew.”

Miranda said,
“Seems like a long time ago, doesn’t it?”

Pug turned, a
youthful grin on his face, and said, “Sometimes it seems like
ages, but other times it’s as fresh in my mind as yesterday.”

“What
about the Saaur?” asked Miranda. “That problem won’t
go away by dwelling in the past.”

“For
several nights, my love, I have been spending some time with one of
the oldest toys in my collection.”

“That
crystal you inherited from Kulgan?”

“The very
one. Fashioned by Athalfain of Carse. I’ve been scouring the
globe and think I may have found a place to which we can move the
Saaur.”

“Care to
show me?”

Pug extended his
hand and said, “I need to practice that transport spell,
anyway. Put a protective shell around us, please.”

Miranda did so,
and suddenly a bluish, transparent globe surrounded them. “Don’t
materialize us inside a mountain again and we won’t need this.”

Pug said, “I’m
trying.” He put his arm around her waist, and said, “Let’s
try this.”

Instantly the
scene around them swirled, resolving itself into a vast grassy plain.

“Where are
we?” asked Miranda.

“The
Ethel-du-ath, in the local tongue,” said Pug.

The blue globe
vanished, and they were struck by a hot summer wind. “That
sounds like Lower Delkian,” said Miranda.

“The
Duathian Plain,” said Pug. “Come here.”

He walked her a
few hundred yards south and suddenly they were peering down the face
of a towering cliff. Pug said, “Sometime ages ago, this part of
the continent rose up while that down there fell. There’s no
portion of this cliff face less than six hundred feet high. There are
two or three places you might climb, but I wouldn’t recommend
it.”

Miranda stepped
off into the air and continued walking. She turned and looked down.
“That’s quite a drop.”

“Show-off,”
said Pug. “The lower portion of the continent was settled by
refugees from Triasia, during the purging of the Ishapian Temple of
the Heretics of Al-maral.”

“That’s
the same bunch that settled down in Novindus,” said Miranda,
walking back to solid ground. “No people up here?”

“No
people,” said Pug. “Just a million or so square miles of
grassland, rolling hills, rivers, and lakes, with mountains to the
north and west, and cliffs to the south and east.”

“So you
want to put the Saaur here.”

“Until I
come up with a better solution,” said Pug. “This place is
large enough they can live here for several hundred years, if need
be. Eventually, I’ll go back to Shila and rid that place of the
remaining demons. But even then it will take centuries to get enough
life back on the planet to support the Saaur.”

Miranda said,
“What if they don’t want to live here?”

“I may not
be able to afford them the luxury of a choice,” said Pug.

Miranda put her
arms about Pug’s waist. Hugging him, she said, “Just
getting the feel of how much these choices are going to cost, aren’t
you?”

“I never
told you the story about the Imperial Games, did I?” he asked.

“No,”
she said.

He held her, and
suddenly they were back on the beach on Sorcerer’s Island. “Now
who’s being a show-off!” she demanded, halfway between
amusement and anger.

“I think I
have the hang of it now,” he said with a wry smile.

She playfully
punched him in the arm. “You’re not allowed to ‘think’
you have the hang of it. You damn well better know, unless you want
to see how quickly you can erect a protective spell when you’re
materializing inside of rock!”

“Sorry,”
he said, his expression clearly showing he wasn’t. “Let’s
get back to the house.”

“I could
use some sleep,” she said. “We’ve been talking all
night.”

“Lots of
important things to discuss,” he said, putting his arm back
around her waist. They walked quietly for a short distance, up to the
path that led over the hill and back to the villa.

“I was a
new Great One,” Pug began, “and Hochopepa, my mentor in
the Assembly, persuaded me to attend a great festival the Warlord was
orchestrating to honor the Emperor. And to announce a great victory
over the Kingdom.” He fell silent, in remembrance. After a
moment, he continued. “Kingdom soldiers were pitted against
soldiers of the Thruil, my wife’s people. I became enraged.”

“I can
understand that,” said Miranda. They continued to walk the path
upward.

“I used my
power to tear apart the imperial arena. I caused the winds to blow,
fire to fall from the sky, rain, earthquakes, the whole bag of
tricks.”

“Must have
been impressive.”

“It was.
It scared hell out of many thousands of people, Miranda.”

“And you
saved the men condemned to fight and die?”

“Yes,”
replied Pug.

“But
what?”

“But to
save two score of soldiers wrongly condemned, I ended up killing
hundreds of people whose only crime was to be born on Kelewan and
choose to attend a festival for their Emperor.”

Miranda said, “I
think I understand.”

“It was a
temper tantrum,” said Pug. “Nothing more. I could have
found a better way to deal with it had I remained calm, but I let my
anger consume me.”

“It’s
understandable,” she said.

“It may be
understandable,” replied Pug, “but it is no more
forgivable for being understandable.” He paused at the top of
the ridge that separated the beach from the interior of the island
and looked out at the vista. “Look at the sea. It doesn’t
care. It endures. This world endures. Shila will eventually endure.
When the last demon starves to death, something will happen. A bit of
life will fall from the sky, in a meteor or on the winds of magic, or
by means I don’t understand. Maybe it will be a single blade of
grass hidden behind a rock the demons missed, or some other tiny life
that lingers at the bottom of the oceans will emerge and eventually
that world will again see life thrive, even if I never return to it.”

“What are
you saying, my love?”

“It’s
tempting to think of yourself as powerful when those around you are
far less so, but compared to the simple fact of existence, to the
power of life and how it hangs on, we are nothing.” He looked
at his wife. “The Gods are nothing.” He looked toward
their home. “Despite my years, I am nothing more than a child
when it comes to understanding these things. I know now why your
father was always so driven to seek out new knowledge. I know why
Nakor revels in each new thing he encounters. We are die same as
children encountering a tiny bauble.”

He fell quiet,
and Miranda said, “Talking of children makes you sad?”

They walked down
the sloping path, through a glade of trees, and approached the outer
garden of their estate. They could see students gathered around in a
circle, practicing an exercise Pug had given them the day before.

“When I
felt my children die, it took all my willpower to keep from flying to
confront the demon again,” said Pug.

Miranda lowered
her eyes. “I’m glad you didn’t, my love.” She
still blamed herself for goading him into attacking the demon
prematurely and almost losing his life in the process.

“Well,
perhaps my injuries taught me something. Had I challenged Jakan when
he was still in Krondor, I might not have survived to defeat him at
Sedianon.”

“Is that
why you avoid helping remove this General Fadawah from Ylith?”

“Patrick
would be pleased for me to simply show up and burn the entire
province of Yabon to the ground. He’d happily move settlers in
from the East and replant trees, claiming a great victory.

“I doubt
the people living there would agree, and neither would the elves or
the dwarves who live nearby. Besides, most of those men are no more
evil than those serving Patrick. I find matters of politics are of
less interest to me every day.”

“Wise,”
said Miranda. “You are a force, as am I, and between the two of
us we could probably conquer a small nation.”

“Yes,”
said Pug with a grin, his first smile since telling of the arena.
“What would you do with it?”

“Ask
Fadawah,” suggested Miranda. “He obviously has plans.”

Entering the
main building of the estate, Pug said, “I have larger
concerns.”

“I know,”
she replied.