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

said Locklear, suddenly getting it. ‘Magic!’

      Rolling his eyes, Patrus said, ‘Right, magic.’ With a playful slap to the back of Locklear’s head, he added, ‘Idiot.’

      James said, ‘I think we have a problem, still.’

      ‘What?’ asked Patrus. ‘You sneak in, get the papers, bring them out, I’ll read them, you sneak in, put them back, and we leave.’

      ‘That’s the problem,’ said James. ‘I should be able to sneak in and out, once, but the second time? And if the plans are removed and found missing, they’ll change them, almost certainly.’

      ‘How many ways can they march down that pass and up to the walls of the keep?’ asked Locklear.

      ‘Several,’ said James, ‘and if we are ready for one, and they come a different way, well, even this rabble could create problems enough to cost us dearly.’ He shook his head in frustration. ‘Damn.’

      They kept walking, not wishing to have anyone see them lingering. While most of the camp in the town was either asleep or drinking in one of the several taverns in Raglam, there were enough soldiers around to view with suspicion anyone loitering.

      Locklear said, ‘What if we could have a reason for being in there looking through the papers?’

      ‘What?’

      Locklear grinned. ‘I have an idea.’

      James said, ‘I usually end up not liking it when you say that.’

      ‘Come on,’ said the younger squire. ‘This is brilliant.’

      ‘Oh, I really don’t like it when you say that.’

      Locklear crossed the largest street along the south end of town, and moved to the open field where the catapult aimed at town sat. A company of engineers lay sleeping at the base of the engine, and Locklear signalled for silence. He tiptoed to where the massive war engine sat and inspected it from a few feet away. Then he looked around on the ground until he found a rock the size of his fist. He pointed to the machine and in a whisper asked, ‘Do you think you could hit that release lever from here?’

      James looked a moment and said, ‘No, but I could hit it from over there.’ He pointed to a location the same distance from the catapult but at a different angle. ‘I think you mean could I hit it and make it release?’

      Showing frustration, Locklear said, ‘Yes, that’s what I mean. Go stand over there, and when I signal you, count to one hundred. Then throw the rock and release the lever.’

      ‘And what about the lashings?’

      ‘I’ll take care of that. Patrus, come with me.’

      Locklear took the old magician and said, ‘Walk around over there –’ he pointed to a location on the other side of where the engineers lay sleeping ‘– and wait for me.’

      Patrus headed off to do as he was bid, and when he saw James hadn’t moved, Locklear shooed him away with a fluttering hand. James shook his head in disbelief, but he went where he was told to go.

      Locklear crept close to the catapult and looked at the large restraining rope across the mighty engine’s arm. If it wasn’t in place, only the lever and gear arrangement kept the huge arm from discharging its deadly missile. As silently as possible, Locklear took his dagger and cut through the rope. It took several tense moments, as he sawed through the huge bundle of fibres, watching to see if any of the engineers stirred.

      When the rope was severed, he moved away and quickly circled around the camp. He went to Patrus, took the old man by the arm and led him off into the dark. Just as he was about to vanish from sight, he signalled to James.

      James, still not knowing what Locklear’s plan was going to accomplish, counted to one hundred. When he reached seventy, he heard voices raised in the distance. When he reached ninety, he heard feet running in his direction. Not waiting to reach one hundred, at ninety-two he threw the rock. With his keen eye and strong arm, he put the stone right where it needed to be, knocking loose the lever. With a loud crash, the huge arm unloaded its stone, slamming hard against the crossbeam at the top of its arc. The sound instantly awoke the engineers who leaped to their feet, shouting. ‘What was that? What? Who did that?’

      Just then Patrus and Locklear arrived with a company of moredhel warriors. ‘There they are!’ shouted Locklear. ‘They tried to kill Kroldech!’

      The warriors rushed forward while the still-stunned engineers milled around in mute astonishment. That lasted but a moment, then suddenly they were yelling at the moredhel guards, who were accusing them of treason.

      Locklear took Patrus by the arm and hurried to James’s side, while shouts and confusion came from the other side of the town.

      ‘What did you tell them, Locky?’

      ‘Just that this concerned old man, out looking for his lost cat, had come across this nest of traitors who were training their catapult on the commander’s house, and he didn’t know who to turn to, so I was bringing him over to that loyal bunch there.’

      ‘Are they loyal?’ asked James with a laugh.

      Locklear returned the laugh. ‘How do I know? Even if they’re part of the faction trying to kill Kroldech, they’re going to be all over those engineers for not waiting to do it when they were told.’

      James spoke in appreciative tones. ‘Damn, but you can be a sneaky bastard at times.’

      ‘I take that as high praise, considering the source,’ said Locklear.

      They reached the area around Kroldech’s headquarters and James said, ‘I think I know what to do.’

      He pushed through confused-looking soldiers and townspeople, saying, ‘Stand away! Let us through.’

      When he got to where he could see the damage he had to stop a moment in amazement. The stone had crashed through the centre of the roof, crushing the upper floor and collapsing it down on the second floor. The main doors were off their hinges. ‘Damn, those guys were good,’ whispered James in appreciation of the engineers’ skill.

      Then he realized he wasn’t moving, and James said, ‘We’ve got to save the commander!’

      He waved at a few warriors nearby and said, ‘Help us find the commander!’

      They followed and James led them into the ruins of the inn. Several stunned warriors lay sprawled on the floor, and James had to duck under cracked and fallen ceiling beams, which were now only five feet above the floor in the commons. ‘Where’s the commander?’ he asked one.

      ‘He was over there, at his place in the rear of the commons,’ said a moredhel warrior with blood running down his face.

      Turning to those moredhel who had followed James inside, he said, ‘Get these warriors outside to safety.’ Pointing at Patrus and Locklear as if they were just two among many, he said, ‘You and you, come with me and help me find the commander.’

      They had to crawl under a beam. After a minute of negotiating their way in the gloom, they came to the room used by the commander. The door was off the hinges, and they had to climb over a fallen beam, but they got inside.

      Two moredhel, killed by flying timber splinters the size of arrows, lay on the floor near the door. But behind a table crouched a moredhel, whimpering in terror, but otherwise uninjured. From the rings on his fingers and the golden amulet around his neck, James deduced he was the commander. He lay curled up and obviously shocked to near mindlessness.

      ‘Not what one expects in a moredhel chieftain,’ observed Locklear.

      ‘Get him outside, Locky,’ said James, ‘but take your time, Patrus and I will see what we can save from the fire.’

      ‘What fire?’ asked Locklear.

      James took paper and handed it to Patrus. ‘Is