The Riftwar Legacy: The Complete 4-Book Collection. Raymond E. Feist

exploded inward. An assassin had tied a rope to the roof beam and swung out, so he could crash feet first through the wooden shutters into the room.

      He caught James full in the chest and the squire flew backwards into Gorath. Owyn came up on his knees, then fell back out of the way of a sword blow, while behind him someone was trying to force the door open.

      Owyn had been halfway through constructing the spell in his mind when suddenly letters of fire seemed to burn in his mind’s eye. He raised his hand and pointed it at the assassin who was again raising his sword. An evil purple-grey sphere, black veins of energy dancing across its surface, leaped from his hand, striking the assassin in the face. The man froze as if suddenly transformed into purple stone, blue sparkles of energy dancing across the surface of his body. A faint moan of pain escaped his lips.

      James was up and ran to the window, thrusting his sword through it as another man tried to swing in. The second Nighthawk was impaled on the blade and fell into the stable yard below, striking the stones with a sickening wet thud.

      Gorath regained his footing and threw his weight against the door. He shouted, ‘Do we try to hold the door?’

      James said, ‘When I yell, jump back and pull that last bed with you.’

      Owyn was staring at the entranced assassin in wide eyed wonder. ‘It worked!’ he whispered.

      James struck the ensorcelled man as hard as he could across the back of the head with the flat of his sword and he crumpled to the ground, the energy around him vanishing. ‘Can you do it again?’

      ‘I don’t know!’

      ‘Then get out of the way! Gorath, now!’

      Gorath did as he was told, and Owyn grabbed the bed and pulled it away as well. The other two beds began to slide away from the door.

      ‘If I know my Nighthawks,’ said James. ‘I suggest you duck … now!’

      Both men did so as James fell to the floor. The door burst open and two crossbow bolts flew into the room and vanished out the window. James instantly jumped atop the bed Gorath and Owyn had just moved. He bounced off the bed and crashed into the two men closest to the door, sending them through the railing of the stairs to the floor below. He slid over the edge of the landing, barely avoiding a fall by grabbing a part of a shattered post. His sword went clattering to the floor below, as an astonished and shocked Peter the Grey entered the room from behind the bar. ‘What?’

      James looked up from where he hung to see a Nighthawk standing over him, sword raised high. The assassin’s eyes went round as Gorath ran him through with his sword. The last Nighthawk tumbled over James to the floor below, landing at Peter’s feet.

      ‘Oh, my word!’ said the innkeeper. ‘My word!’

      James hung by one hand and said, ‘If it wouldn’t be too much trouble …’

      Gorath’s powerful hand seized him by the wrist and hauled him up to the landing. James said, ‘Thank you,’ and hurried down the stairs, rubbing his sore shoulder. ‘I’m getting too old for that sort of thing,’ he observed.

      ‘What is going on?’ asked Peter.

      James knelt next to the last assassin and began searching the body. ‘These men tried to kill us,’ he answered calmly. ‘We didn’t let them.’

      ‘Well …’ said the innkeeper. ‘Well … I …’ After a moment, he said, ‘Well,’ one more time.

      James said, ‘Get somebody in here to clean up the mess, Peter. Else your customers may be put off their meals.’

      The innkeeper turned and hurried off to do as he was bid. Instructions like that he understood. To Owyn, James said, ‘You’d better go get your uncle and explain to him that we’ve just removed most of the Nighthawks who were stalking him.’

      Owyn said, ‘I think he might not even object too much to being awakened in the middle of the night for that bit of news.’

      After Owyn left, Gorath said, ‘I noticed you said, “most of the Nighthawks who were stalking him”.’

      James stood up, after having found nothing useful on the bodies. ‘We still have one Nighthawk to go, I think. At least one who matters.’

      ‘The leader?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And how do you propose to find him?’

      ‘I don’t,’ said James with a satisfied smile. ‘He will find us. And I think it will be this weekend when a certain chess player arrives to pay court to Owyn’s cousin.’

      Gorath considered that, then nodded. ‘He’s a logical suspect, but how will you prove it? Accuse him in public?’

      ‘Unlike your people, where I suspect an open challenge of honour carries some weight, this is a man whose honour is non-existent. He is one who lurks in shadows and kills from behind trees. He would only deny an accusation.’

      ‘So then how do you get him to confess? Torture?’

      James laughed. ‘I’ve always considered torture to be of dubious benefit. Fanatics will die with a lie on their lips, and an innocent man will condemn himself to stop the pain.’

      ‘I have found that torture, applied judiciously, can yield interesting results.’

      ‘No doubt,’ said James, with a look of mixed amusement and alarm.

      Peter the Grey returned with his stable man and two workers, all of whom lost their sleepy slowness when they saw the bodies. ‘Take them out back and burn the bodies,’ instructed the innkeeper. As they complied, he looked at the shattered balcony railing and asked, ‘Who will pay for this?’

      James dug out a gold coin and said, ‘I will. If I find the man behind this, I’ll recover my gold from him. No need for you to bear the burden of the cost.’

      ‘Thank you,’ said Peter, greatly relieved.

      Owyn returned with his uncle behind him, dressed in his nightclothes with a large cloak around his shoulders. He was still barefoot. ‘You’ve killed the Nighthawks?’ he asked.

      James said, ‘I’m certain we’ve stamped out most of them in the area.’

      Baron Corvallis was almost beside himself with glee. Then his mood turned darker. ‘Most?’

      ‘There’s some business I think needs to be finished by Sixthday, then I think you’ll be safe from the Guild of Assassins, m’lord.’

      Corvallis said, ‘Owyn, you couldn’t have awakened me for better cause.’ To James he said, ‘I must pen a missive to Arutha, commending you to him for your good works this day.’

      ‘Thank you, sir,’ said James, ‘but I’ll be sending my own report to the Prince.’

      ‘No false modesty, my boy.’ He put a fatherly hand on James’s shoulder. ‘You must take praise where it comes. You might not be a squire all your life. Who knows, with a friend in court, and with recommendations such as mine, why some day you might rise to the rank of baronet or even baron!’

      James grinned. ‘One never knows.’

      ‘Well, then,’ said the Baron, turning toward the door. To Peter he said, ‘Provide these gentlemen with whatever they need.’ To Owyn he said, ‘I can’t tell you how pleased I am. I look forward to your company on Sixthday.’

      He hurried out, and Owyn asked, ‘What now?’

      James looked at the mess and said, ‘I think some sleep is in order.’

      He retrieved his sword from where it had landed, cleaned it off on the tunic of the last dead Nighthawk, and as Peter the Grey returned to the commons, said, ‘Master Grey, there’s another dead one up in our room. Please remove it as well.’

      ‘Oh, my word!’ said the innkeeper.