By last count over thirty thousand men had found their way into the south end of the province of Yabon. He had organized them, stationed them, and now controlled all the lands from Ylith south past Questers View, north to the outskirts of Zun, west to the city of Natal, which was now occupied by more of his own men than their own pitiful defenses. He had also captured Hawks Hollow, a small town, but one giving him control of a vital pass through the mountains to the east.
Some of the men dont like the idea of staying, said Nordan. The stocky soldier rubbed his bearded chin, and cleared his throat. Theyre talking of finding a ship and going back across the sea.
To what? asked Fadawah. To a land burned out and overrun by barbarians from the grasslands? Besides the dwarven stronghold in the Ratngari Mountains and some surviving Jehsandi in the North, what is there left of civilization? Did we leave a city standing? Is there anything there to support us? Fadawah scratched his head. He wore a single long fall of hair and shaved the rest of his head, another sign of his devotion to the Emerald Queens dark powers. Tell any of the men who are talking this way that come spring, if they can find a ship and take it, theyre free to leave. He looked off into space, as if seeing something in the air. I want no one here who isnt ready to serve me. Were going to have a serious fight on our hands.
The Kingdom?
Fadawah said, You dont think theyre going to sit idly by and not attempt to regain their lands, do you?
No, but they were terribly mauled at Krondor and Darkmoor. The prisoners tell us they dont have much of an army left to put in the field.
Fadawah said, If they dont bring their Army of the East over from Darkmoor, true. But if they do, we need to be ready.
Well, said Nordan, we wont know until spring.
Thats only another three months, said Fadawah. We need to be prepared.
You have a plan?
Always, said the wily old general. I dont want a two-front war if I can help it. If I was stupid, I could find myself in a four-front war. He indicated a map on the wall of the room. They were currently occupying the estate house of the Earl of Ylith, dead by all reports along with the Duke of Yabon and the Earl of LaMut. If our information is right, we face a boy up in LaMut. He rubbed his chin. We need to take LaMut as soon as the spring thaw begins, and I want Yabon in our grasp by midsummer. He smiled. Send a message to the leader in Natal He turned to Kahil. Whats his title?
The First Councilor, supplied his Captain of Intelligence.
Send the First Councilor our thanks for his hospitality in providing billets for our men this winter, and send him some gold. A thousand pieces should do.
A thousand? asked Nordan.
We have it. And well get more. Then withdraw our men and bring them here. He looked at his old friend. That will at least keep the First Councilor on our good side until we return to Natal, take and keep it.
He pointed to the map. I want Duko and his men down in Krondor by then.
Nordan raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
Fadawah said, Duko makes me uneasy. Hes an ambitious man. He frowned. It was only chance that put you and me first and second on the Pantathians roles, else we could be taking orders from Duko.
Nordan nodded. But hes a good leader, and hes always obeyed without question.
That he is, which is why I want him at the front. I want you down behind him, in Sarth.
But why Krondor? Nordan shook his head. Theres nothing there.
But there will be, said Fadawah. Thats their Western Capital, their Princes City, and they will move back there as quickly as they can. He nodded to himself. If Duko can keep them busy until we seize all of Yabon, then we can tum our sights on the Free Cities, this Far Coast region. He pointed to the western coast of the Kingdom. Well reoccupy Krondor and move back toward the old battle line. Whats that place?
Nightmare Ridge.
Well named. Fadawah sighed. Im not a greedy man. Being King of the Bitter Sea is enough. Well let the Kingdom of the Isles keep their Darkmoor and the lands to the east. Then he smiled. For now.
But first we must retake Krondor.
Fadawah said, No, first we must make them think we want to retake Krondor. These Kingdom nobles are not stupid, they are not self-consumed like those of our homeland. He remembered how shocked the Priest-King of Lananda had been when Fadawah and his army had refused to heed his order to leave his city. These are smart men, duty-bound men; they will come at us, and they will come hard. We must expect that.
No, let them think Krondor is the prize, and when they realize we are firm in Yabon, perhaps they will negotiate, or perhaps not, but either way, once we have control of Yabon, we are here for good. Let Duko get punished lest he become ambitious.
Nordan stood. If you permit, Ill tell the men those who wish to leave in the spring may.
Fadawah waved his permission.
Majesty, said Nordan, leaving Fadawah alone with Kahil.
To Kahil, Fadawah said, Wait, then follow Nordan and see who he speaks with. Mark the men who are the leaders of these dissidents. They will have accidents before the thaw, and then we can put to rest this nonsense about returning to Novindus.
Of course, Majesty, said the Captain of Intelligence. And I applaud your design in putting Nordan down in Sarth.
Fadawah said, Design?
Kahil leaned over, putting his arm around Fadawahs shoulder, and he whispered, Put all your disloyal commanders to the south, to insure that when the enemy exacts their price for our conquest, those we can most afford to lose pay it.
Fadawahs eyes became unfocused, as if he was listening to something in the distance. Yes, that is wise.
Kahil said, You need to surround yourself with those who can be trusted, those who are loyal beyond a doubt. You need to return the Immortals to a place of prominence.
No! said Fadawah. Those madmen served dark powers
Kahil interrupted. Not dark powers, Majesty, but vast powers. Powers that can insure your rule not only in Yabon, but in Krondor, too.
Krondor? asked Fadawah.
Kahil clapped his hands twice, and the door swung open. Two warriors, each with ritual scars on his cheeks that matched Fadawahs, entered, and Kahil said, Guard the King with your lives.
Fadawah repeated, Krondor.
Kahil rose and departed, closing the door behind him. A faint smile passed across his face before he turned and left upon his next task, following Nordan and marking those men for death who displayed even the smallest hint of disloyalty.
Fadawah looked at the two soldiers and motioned for them to stand away from him. The scars on their faces reminded him of the dark and distant time he was caught up in the magic of the Emerald Queen and the lost months when the demon had ruled her army. He hated feeling used and would kill anyone who again attempted to use him as the Emerald Queen had.
He moved to the map on the wall and began to plan his spring campaign.
Chapter One Winter
He moved to the map on the wall and began to plan his spring campaign.
Chapter One Winter
THE WIND HAD died.
Dash waited. The frigid bite of the air still brought tears to his eyes as he scanned the road below. The reconstruction of Darkmoor had been tedious, slowed by continuous snows and rain, as the winter proved a fickle one. If slippery ice wasnt making footing treacherous for those workmen attempting to rebuild the walls around the western portion of the city, then knee-deep mud stalled wagons carrying needed supplies.
Now it was icy again, but at least Dash was thankful there was currently no snow. The sky was clear, the late afternoon sun hinting at warmth that wasnt really there. Dash knew it was his mood as much as the weather, but this particular winter seemed to have lasted longer than any in his young life.
The sounds of the city carried through the still, icy air as the day wound down. With luck the new gate would be finished before sunset, and an extra modicum of security would be added to the sum of things that needed to be done yesterday.
Dash was tired, fatigued beyond anything he could remember in his twenty years of life. Part of it was from the seemingly endless list of things that needed attention, and the rest was from worry; his brother Jimmy was overdue.
Jimmy was acting the part of exploring officer, a scout behind enemy lines. Prince Patrick of Krondor had decided to move hard and fast against a threat of Keshian expansion into the southern flank of the Kingdom in the spring. That meant that the retaking of lands lost during the invasion the previous summer would be left to Owen Greylock, Knight-Marshal of Krondor, and Erik von Darkmoor, Knight-Captain of the Crimson Eagles, an elite mobile force of handpicked men.
Which had meant the Prince needed information on what the invaders were doing between Darkmoor and Krondor. And Jimmy had volunteered to go see what was going on.
He was now three days overdue.
Dash had come to the edge of the patrolled area, a series of burned-out walls that marked the western edge of the foulbourgh of Darkmoor. The Princes army in the city insured that there was little danger within a days ride of the city, but these partial walls and piles of tumbled masonry provided ample cover for ambush and had been refuge to more than one band of scavengers or outlaws.
Dash scanned the horizon, watching for his brother. The sounds of the winter woodlands below were few and infrequent. An occasional rustle as snow fell from tree branches, or the crack of ice some miles away as the thaw began. A bird call or the rustle of some animal in the brush. Sound carried for miles in the winter cold.
Then Dash heard something. A faint sound, coming from far away. It wasnt the sound of hooves striking hard dirt and rock Dash had hoped to hear. Rather it was the rolling crunch of ice underfoot. And whoever made the sound was coming toward him with a methodical step, even and unhurried.
Dash flexed his gloved fingers and slowly pulled his sword from his scabbard. If the previous conflict had taught him nothing else, it was to always be ready. There were no safe positions outside the fortress that was the city of Darkmoor.
In the distance he detected motion, and he focused on it. A single figure trudged along the road. He was moving at a plodding walk, and as Dash watched, he hurried to a slow trot. Dash knew he was walking one hundred paces, then trotting one hundred paces, a practice drilled into Dash and his brother by their arms teachers as boys. For a man without a mount it could cover almost as much distance as a horse could in a day, more over the course of weeks.
Dash watched. The figure resolved itself into a man wrapped, in a heavy grey cloak; clothing designed to make it difficult to see the wearer from any distance in the gloom of winter. Only on the bright days when the sky was clear would the wearer be easy to spot.
As the man on foot came closer, Dash saw he was without a hat, but had his head covered in a thick cloth, a scarf or torn remnant of another piece of clothing. He carried a sword at his side, and his hands were clad in mismatching gloves. His boots were filthy with mud and ice.
The crunching of snow under his tread became louder by the moment, until he stood before Dash. He stopped and looked up, and at last he said, Youre in my way.
Dash moved his mount aside and swung the horses head around toward Darkmoor. He put his sword away, urged the animal forward and walked beside the man on foot. Lose your horse? he asked.
Jimmy, Dashs brother, hiked his thumb over his shoulder. Back there.
That was pretty careless, said the younger brother. That was an expensive horse.
Jimmy said, I know. But I didnt feel like carrying him. He was dead.
Pity. That was a really good horse.
You dont miss him nearly as much as I do, said Jimmy.
Would you like a ride? asked Dash.
Jimmy stopped, turned, and regarded his brother. Neither son of Lord Arutha, Duke of Krondor, resembled the other. James looked like his grandmother, slight, blond, and possessing features that could only be called finely drawn, with sapphire eyes. Dash looked like his grandfather, with tight curls of light brown hair, dark eyes, and a mocking expression. In nature, they were as alike as twins. About time you offered, said Jimmy, reaching up to take Dashs hand.
He swung up behind his brother and they rode slowly toward the city. How bad was it? asked Dash.
Worse, said Jimmy.
Worse than we thought?
Worse than anything we could have imagined.
Dash said nothing more, knowing his brother would report directly to the Prince, and that Dash would hear every detail.
Jimmy took the hot cup of coffee, sweetened with honey and made rich with cream, and nodded his thanks. The servant quickly departed, closing the door behind him. Jimmy sat in the Princes private chamber, while the Prince, the Knight-Marshal Owen Greylock, Duke Arutha of Krondor, and Erik von Darkmoor patiently waited for his report.
Patrick, Prince of Krondor and ruler of the Western Realm of the Kingdom of the Isles, said, Very well. What did you find?
Jimmy finished his first sip of the hot drink, and said, Its far worse than we feared.
Patrick had detailed five men to ride into the West, toward Krondor, his capital city, and only three of them had returned so far. The picture he was having painted for him could be called nothing but bleak. Go on.
Jimmy put his cup down on the table and started removing his heavy cloak as he said, I got to Krondor. It took some doing, but most of the remaining soldiers between here and there are nothing more than bandits. After a couple of months of snow, rain, and sleet, they are dug in, hugging their fires and trying hard to stay alive.
What of Krondor? Patrick asked.
Jimmy said, Its almost deserted. There were a few people around, but no one wanted to talk to me, and frankly, I wasnt anxious to strike up many conversations myself. Most of those I caught a glimpse of were soldiers, foraging for what they could find in the rubble.
Jimmy stretched, as if tired. He took another sip of coffee. Though what they could possibly find is beyond me. He looked at Patrick. Highness, Krondor looks like nothing Ive seen before or could dream of in my worst nightmare. Every stone blackened, and almost no board unburned. The smell of char still lingers in the air and its been months since the fires. Rain and snow have yet to cleanse the city.