Silverthorn. Raymond E. Feist

leaned across the table. ‘Less than myself? Remember, Volney, it appeared I was the intended target.’

      Laurie nodded. ‘It couldn’t have been me they were after.’

      ‘Perhaps a music lover?’ countered Arutha dryly.

      Volney sighed. ‘I am sorry if I am acting poorly in all this. I have wished upon more than one occasion to be done with this business of administering the Principality.’

      ‘Nonsense, Volney,’ said Arutha. ‘You’ve done a capital job here. When Lyam insisted I make the eastern tour with him, I objected on the grounds that the Western Realm would suffer under any hand but my own – which was because of the effects of Bas-Tyra’s rule and no comment upon your abilities. But I am pleased to see this was not the case. I doubt that any could have done better in running the daily affairs of the realm than you have, Earl.’

      ‘I thank His Highness,’ said Volney, somewhat less agitated for the compliment.

      ‘In fact, I was going to ask you to stay on. With Dulanic mysteriously gone, we’ve no Duke of Krondor to act on behalf of the city. Lyam cannot announce the office vacant – without dishonouring Dulanic’s memory by stripping him of the title – for another two years, but we can all assume he is dead at Guy’s or Radburn’s hands. So for the time being, I think we’ll plan on your acting the part of Chancellor.’

      Volney seemed less than pleased with this news, but took the pronouncement with good grace. He simply said, ‘I thank His Highness for the trust.’

      Further conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Gardan, Father Nathan and Jimmy. Nathan’s bull neck bulged as he half carried Jimmy to a chair. The boy’s face was drained of colour and he was sweating. Ignoring formality, Arutha pointed to a chair and the priest deposited Jimmy there.

      ‘What is this?’ asked Arutha.

      Gardan half smiled, half looked disapproving. ‘This young bravo has been running around since last night with a nasty cut in his side. He bandaged it himself and botched the job.’

      ‘It had begun to fester,’ added Nathan, ‘so I was forced to clean and dress it. I insisted on treating it before we came to see you, as the boy was turning feverish. It takes no magic to keep a wound from putrefaction, but every street boy thinks he is a chirurgeon. So the wound sours.’ He looked down at Jimmy. ‘He’s a little pale from the lancing, but he’ll be fine in a few hours – as long as he doesn’t reopen the wound,’ he added pointedly to Jimmy.

      Jimmy looked abashed. ‘Sorry to put you to the trouble, father, but under other circumstances, I would have had the wound tended.’

      Arutha looked at the boy thief. ‘What have you discovered?’

      ‘This business of catching assassins may be even more difficult than we thought, Highness. There is a way to make contact, but it is varied and roundabout.’ Arutha nodded for him to continue. ‘I had to cadge a lot with the street people, but here is what I have gleaned. Should you wish to employ the services of the Guild of Death, you must take yourself away to the Temple of Lims-Kragma.’ Nathan made a sign of protection at mention of the Death Goddess. ‘A devotion is said and a votive offering placed in the urn marked for such, but with the gold sewn into a parchment, giving your name. You will be contacted at their convenience within one day’s time. You name the victim; they name the price. You pay or you don’t. If you do, they tell you when and where to drop the gold. If you don’t, they vanish and you can’t reach them again.’

      ‘Simple,’ said Laurie. ‘They dictate when and where, so laying a trap will not be easy.’

      ‘Impossible, I should think,’ said Gardan.

      ‘Nothing is impossible,’ said Arutha, his expression showing he was deep in thought.

      After a long moment Laurie said, ‘I have it!’

      Arutha and the others looked at the singer. ‘Jimmy, you said they will contact whoever leaves the gold within the day.’ Jimmy nodded. ‘Then what we need to do is have whoever leaves the gold stay in one place. A place we control.’

      Arutha said, ‘A simple enough idea, once it’s thought of, Laurie. But where?’

      Jimmy said, ‘There are a few places we might take over for a time, Highness, but those who own them are unreliable.’

      ‘I know a place,’ said Laurie, ‘if friend Jimmy the Hand is willing to say devotions, so the Nighthawks will be less likely to think it a trap.’

      ‘I don’t know,’ said Jimmy. ‘Things are funny in Krondor. If I’m under suspicion, we might never get another opportunity.’ He reminded them of Jack’s attack, and of his unknown companion with the crossbow. ‘It may have been a grudge thing; I’ve known men to get crazy over something even more trivial than a nickname, but if it wasn’t … If Jack was somehow involved with that assassin …’

      ‘Then,’ said Laurie, ‘the Nighthawks have turned an officer of the Mockers to their cause.’

      Jimmy looked upset, as he suddenly dropped his mask of bravado. ‘That thought has troubled me as much as the thought of someone sticking his Highness with a crossbow bolt. I’ve been neglecting my oath to the Mockers. I should have told all last night, and certainly I must now.’ He seemed ready to rise.

      Volney placed a firm hand upon Jimmy’s shoulder. ‘Presumptuous boy! Are you saying some league of cut-throats merits even a moment’s consideration in light of the danger to your Prince and possibly your King?’

      Jimmy seemed on the verge of a retort when Arutha said, ‘I think that’s exactly what the boy said, Volney. He has given oath.’

      Laurie quickly stepped over to where the boy sat. Moving Volney to one side, he leaned down so his face was level with Jimmy’s. ‘You have your concerns, we know, lad, but things seem to be moving rapidly. If the Mockers have been infiltrated, then speaking too soon could make those who have been placed there cover tracks. If we can get one of these Nighthawks …’ He left the thought unfinished.

      Jimmy nodded. ‘If the Upright Man will only follow your logic, I may survive, singer. I come close to past the time when I may cover my actions with a facile story. Soon I will be at an accounting. Very well, I’ll take a note to the Drawer of Nets’ temple. And I will play no mummery when I ask her to make a place for me should it be my time.’

      ‘And,’ said Laurie, ‘I must be off to see an old friend about the loan of an inn.’

      ‘Good,’ said Arutha. ‘We will spring the snare tomorrow.’

      While Volney, Nathan, and Gardan watched, Laurie and Jimmy departed, deep in conversation as they made plans. Arutha followed their departure as well, his dark eyes masking the quietly burning rage he felt. After so many years of strife during the Riftwar he had returned to Krondor hoping for a long, peaceful life with Anita. Now someone dared to threaten that peaceful life. And that someone would pay dearly.

      The Rainbow Parrot Inn was quiet. The storm windows had been closed against a sudden squall off the Bitter Sea, so the taproom lay blanketed in haze, blue smoke from the fireplace and a dozen patron’s pipes. To any casual observer the inn looked much as it would have on other rainy nights. The owner, Lucas, and his two sons stood behind the long bar, one of them occasionally moving through the door to the kitchen to get meals and carry them to the tables. In the corner near the fireplace, opposite the stairs to the second floor, a blond minstrel sang softly of a sailor who is far from home.

      Close inspection would have revealed that the men at the tables barely touched their ale. While rough in appearance, they didn’t have the air of workers from the docks and sailors fresh in from sea voyages. They all possessed a certain hard-eyed look, and their scars were earned in past battles rather than tavern brawls. All were members of Gardan’s company of Household Guard, some of the most seasoned veterans of the Armies of the West during the Riftwar. In the kitchen five new cooks and apprentices worked. Upstairs, in the room closest