sit up. ‘I’m not sure I’d like that, Nakor. My body has betrayed me and, to put it bluntly, it vexes me to be so dependent on others. It’s hard not to be able to walk to the jakes and take a piss. Nothing humbles a man as much as waking in the morning, sopping wet like a baby. I think I’d rather die than have to spend more days in bed.’
‘Well, you don’t have to do either,’ said Nakor with a grin. ‘The potion will make you stronger, too.’
Erik’s gaze fixed upon Nakor. ‘I can see better; I’ve just realized.’
‘Yes,’ said Nakor. ‘It’s a pretty nice potion.’
‘Is that how you’ve remained unchanged over the last fifty to sixty years?’
‘No. I know some other tricks.’
‘Very well, if you can get me out of this bed so I can protect the Kingdom a while longer, I’ll stay around, but what is your reason for this?’
‘Well, first of all, I like you.’
‘Thank you, Nakor; I like you, too.’
‘You are the last of the Desperate Men who went south with Calis and Bobby.’
‘I was there; I remember. Now, I appreciate nostalgia as much as the next man, Nakor, but what’s the real reason?’
‘We need someone who is close to the Crown to listen and help when the time comes.’
‘We?’ asked the Duke. ‘You mean the Black Sorcerer?’
‘Yes, Pug.’
Erik sat back with a long exhalation of breath, shaking his head slightly. After the Serpentwar, Kesh had moved against and almost destroyed Krondor, seeking to an advantage itself in its seemingly never-ending struggle with its northern neighbour. Pug, who was Duke of Stardock at that time, and vassal to the Crown of the Kingdom of the Isles, had refused to use his powerful magic to destroy the invaders, but rather had ordered the Keshians home, while at the same time publicly humiliating Patrick, who was then the Prince of Krondor, and was now King of the Isles.
Erik said, ‘Pug’s been persona non grata since he defied Prince Patrick, after the Serpentwar. Robbie may be related to Patrick in name only – he’s as thoughtful as Patrick is rash – but the collective royal memory is a long one. Pug pulled Stardock out of the Kingdom and set it up as an independent state; that looks like treason from the throne’s point of view.’
‘That’s why we need you to persuade them otherwise. ‘Something bad is coming, Erik.’
‘How bad?’
‘Very bad,’ said Nakor.
‘As bad as the Emerald Queen?’
‘Worse,’ said the short gambler.
Erik sat motionless for a moment, then said, ‘Go over to that table, Nakor.’ He pointed to a long table set against the wall. ‘Open that box.’
Nakor did as requested and found the simple wooden box with a small brass hasp and ring latch. Inside it he found a black amulet. He pulled it out, letting it hang from the chain. ‘Nighthawks?’
‘We received that from one of our agents in Great Kesh. I suspect you and your companions have as many agents down there as we do.’
Nakor turned to regard the old Duke. Erik’s blue eyes were now alight with energy and his voice was growing stronger by the moment. ‘Oh, I have no problem with your … what do you call it? Your Conclave?’
Nakor said nothing, but smiled slightly.
‘But you’re not the only ones out there paying for information, my old friend,’ said the Duke. ‘I served with you and Calis long enough to have no doubt you only intend good, no matter what the Crown’s official position on your activities may be. Truth to tell, Patrick needed the public spanking that Pug gave him when the Keshian army was outside the city walls. Just as much as the Keshians needed to be sent home with their tails between their legs.
‘But if it ever comes down to choosing between your vision of a larger good and my duty to the Crown, you know what I will do.’
‘I know, Erik.’ Nakor understood if it ever came to a choice, Erik would put his oath and duty to the Crown ahead of anything Pug asked. He put the amulet back. ‘How long have you had it?’
‘A week. Some minor court officials and influential merchants are starting to turn up dead in the City of Kesh. It’s a big place and the dead men are of marginal importance, so the Keshians don’t appear to be taking note of it yet.’
Nakor was thoughtful. ‘Or someone highly placed is ensuring they don’t.’
‘My thought, as well,’ said the Duke. He looked at the window, and said, ‘How long before dawn?’
‘Four hours or so,’ said Nakor.
‘I think I will stick around a while longer, Nakor. If the approaching danger is worse than the Emerald Queen’s army, I want to be fit enough to stand on the wall with my sword in my hand.’
Nakor grinned. ‘You will.’
Erik smiled back and Nakor could see the health returning to his cheeks. When Nakor had seen him sleeping, Erik had looked like an eighty-year-old man, near death’s door. He now seemed more like a vigorous man of seventy or less.
‘I need to go. Drink the rest of that vial now.’ Erik did so and handed the empty bottle back to Nakor. The skinny gambler pulled another and said, ‘Hide this somewhere. Drink half of this one in a week’s time if you don’t feel as strong as you’d like to. And if you want to feel really wonderful, drink the rest a week after that.’ He put in on the pillow next to the Duke. ‘I’d leave more, but it would be difficult for you to explain to the Prince why you suddenly look younger than he does.’ Grinning, he added, ‘It’s a good thing you were born blond, Erik, because people won’t notice your hair isn’t as grey as it used to be.’
The door at the far end of the room began to open. ‘Got to go now, Erik,’ said Nakor and he darted into the shadow behind the large curtain.
Erik knew that the window behind the curtain had stayed closed, but that if he rose and investigated it, Nakor would have vanished.
The Royal Chirurgeon and the Duke’s squire entered the Duke’s chamber and showed open astonishment at seeing the Duke sitting up in bed. ‘Your Grace!’ exclaimed the healer.
‘Rossler,’ said the Duke.
‘Sir?’ asked the squire with a near stammer.
‘What are you two staring at?’
‘Why, Your Grace … you, sir.’
‘Well, you can stop it.’
‘It’s just that, well …’
‘I know,’ said Erik, interrupting the healer. ‘You didn’t think I’d make it through the night. Well, I’ve got better.’
‘Apparently so, Your Grace. May I?’ he indicated his desire to examine the Duke.
Erik patiently allowed the man to proceed, listening to his heart and breathing, and thumping on his back and chest. When he began examining the colour of his eyes, Erik pushed him away. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he said, ‘I need to go to the jakes.’
The squire said, ‘Your Grace, I will fetch the chamber pot.’
‘Not tonight, Samuel. I’m certain I can walk to the garderobe by myself.’
Both stood a moment in silent amazement as Erik stood and walked across the room to the door that led to his private garderobe and opened the door. When it closed behind the now revitalized Duke, the stunned healer and the grinning squire exchanged looks of wonder.