Raymond E. Feist

A Darkness at Sethanon


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from the two sides joined the fray.

      Arutha turned to Laurie and said, ‘This could get ugly. Think I should do something?’

      Laurie watched the fight pick up in tempo. ‘If you want a squire left intact for duty tomorrow.’

      Arutha signalled to Gardan, who waved some soldiers onto the field. The seasoned fighting men quickly restored order. Arutha walked across the field and knelt next to where Jimmy sat, cradling Locklear’s head in his lap. ‘The bastard hit him in the back of the head with a piece of horseshoe iron. He’s out cold.’

      Arutha regarded the fallen boy, then said to Gardan, ‘Have him carried to his quarters and have the chirurgeon examine him.’ He said to the timekeeper, ‘This game is over.’ Jimmy seemed on the verge of protesting, then seemed to think better of it.

      The timekeeper called out, ‘The score is tied at four counts apiece. No winners.’

      Jimmy sighed. ‘Nor losers, at least.’

      A pair of guards picked up Locklear and carried him away. Arutha said to Laurie, ‘Still a pretty rough game.’

      The former singer nodded. ‘DeLacy needs a few more rules before they start cracking heads.’

      Jimmy walked back to where his tunic and belt lay while the crowd wandered off. Arutha and Laurie followed. ‘We’ll have another go, sometime,’ remarked the youngster.

      ‘It could be interesting,’ said Arutha. ‘Now that they know about that passing trick of yours, they’ll be ready.’

      ‘So we’ll just have to come up with something else.’

      ‘Well, then I guess it might be worthwhile to make a day of it. Say in a week or two.’ Arutha placed his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. ‘I think I’ll have a look at these rules of deLacy’s. Laurie’s right. If you’re going to be dashing pell-mell up and down the field, we can’t have you tossing irons at each other.’

      Jimmy seemed to lose interest in the game. Something in the crowd caught his eye. ‘See that fellow over there? The one in the blue tunic and grey cap?’

      The Prince glanced in the indicated direction. ‘No.’

      ‘He just ducked away when you looked. But I know him. May I go and investigate?’

      Something in Jimmy’s tone made Arutha certain this was not another ploy to escape duty. ‘Go on. Just don’t be away too long. Laurie and I will be returning to the great hall.’

      Jimmy ran off to where he last saw the fellow. He halted and looked about, then noticed the familiar figure standing near a narrow stairway into a side entrance. The man leaned against the wall, hidden in shadows, eating from a platter. He only glanced up when Jimmy approached. ‘There you are, then, Jimmy the Hand.’

      ‘No longer. Squire James of Krondor, Alvarny the Quick.’

      The old thief chuckled. ‘And that also no longer. Though I was quick in my day.’ Lowering his voice so anyone else was unlikely to overhear, he said, ‘My master sends a message for your master.’ Jimmy knew at once something major was afoot, for Alvarny the Quick was the Daymaster of the Mockers, the Guild of Thieves. He was no common errand runner but one of the most highly placed and trusted aides of the Upright Man. ‘By word only. My master says that birds of prey, thought gone from the city, have returned from the north.’

      A chill visited the pit of Jimmy’s stomach. ‘Those that hunt at night?’

      The old thief nodded as he popped a lightly browned pastry into his mouth. He closed his eyes a moment and made a satisfied sound. Then his eyes were on Jimmy, narrowing as he spoke. ‘Sorry I was to see you leave us, Jimmy the Hand. You had promise. You could have been a power in the Mockers if you’d kept your throat uncut. But that’s water gone, as they say. To the heart of the message. Young Tyburn Reems was found floating in the bay. There are places near where smugglers used to ply their trade; one is a place that smells and is of little importance to the Mockers and, therefore, is neglected. It may be that is where such birds are hiding. Now then, there’s an end to the matter.’ Without further conversation, Alvarny the Quick, Daymaster of the Mockers and former master thief, sauntered off into the crowd, vanishing among the revellers.

      Jimmy did not hesitate. He dashed back to where Arutha had been only a few minutes before and, not finding him, headed for the great hall. The number of people before the palace made it difficult to move quickly. Seeing hundreds of strange faces in the corridors suddenly filled Jimmy with alarm. In the months since Arutha and he had returned from Moraelin with Silverthorn to cure the stricken Anita, they had become lulled by the commonplace, everyday quality of palace life. Suddenly the boy saw an assassin’s dagger in every hand, poison in every wine cup, and a bowman in every shadow. Struggling past celebrants, he hurried on.

      Jimmy darted through the press of nobles and other less distinguished guests in the great hall. Near the dais a clot of people were deep in conversation. Laurie and Carline were speaking with the Keshian Ambassador, while Arutha mounted the steps toward his throne. A band of acrobats was hard at work in the centre of the hall, forcing Jimmy to skirt the clearing made for them, while dozens of citizens looked on in appreciation. As he moved through the press, Jimmy glanced up at the windows of the hall, the deep shadows within each cupola haunting him with memories. He felt anger at himself as much as anyone. He above all others should remember what a menace could lurk in such places.

      Jimmy darted past Laurie and reached Arutha’s side as the Prince sat on his throne. Anita was nowhere in sight. Jimmy glanced at her empty throne and inclined his head. Arutha said, ‘She’s gone to look in on the babies. Why?’

      Jimmy leaned near Arutha. ‘My former master sends a message. Nighthawks have returned to Krondor.’

      Arutha’s expression turned sombre. ‘Is this speculation, or a certainty?’

      ‘First, the Upright Man would not send whom he sent unless he counted the matter critical, needing quick resolution. He exposed one high in the Mockers to public scrutiny. Second, there is – was – a young gambler by name Tyburn Reems who was often seen about in the city. He had some special dispensations from the Mockers. He was permitted things few men not of our guild are permitted. Now I know why. He was a personal agent of my former master. Reems is now dead. My guess is the Upright Man was alerted to the possibility of the Nighthawks’ return and Reems was sent to discover their whereabouts. They are once again hidden somewhere in the city. Where, the Upright Man does not know, but he suspects somewhere near the old smugglers’ warren.’

      Jimmy had been speaking to the Prince while glancing about the hall. Now he turned to look at Arutha and words failed him. Arutha’s face was a hard mask of controlled anger, almost to the point of a grimace. Several nearby had turned to stare at him. In a harsh whisper he said to Jimmy, ‘So it’s to begin again?’

      Jimmy said, ‘So it would seem.’

      Arutha stood. ‘I’ll not become a prisoner in my own palace, with guards at every window.’

      Jimmy’s eyes roamed the hall, past where the Duchess Carline stood charming the Keshian Ambassador. ‘Well and good, but this one day your house is overrun with strangers. Common sense dictates you retire to your suite early, for if ever there was a golden chance to get close to you, it is now.’ His eyes kept passing from face to face, seeking some sign that something was amiss. ‘If the Nighthawks are again in Krondor, then they are in this hall or en route as night approaches. You may find them waiting between here and your own quarters.’

      Suddenly Arutha’s eyes widened. ‘My quarters! Anita and the babies!’

      The Prince was off, ignoring the startled faces about him, Jimmy at his heels. Carline and Laurie saw something was wrong and followed.

      Within moments a dozen people trailed behind the Prince as he hurried down the corridor. Gardan had seen the hasty exit and had fallen in beside Jimmy. ‘What is it?’

      Jimmy said, ‘Nighthawks.’

      The