All his life he had waited for an opportunity like this and he was going to be ruthless in taking advantage of it. None of these men would lift a finger to help Knute, he knew, if his life was at risk, so what did he owe them? Honour among thieves might exist with the Mockers, where the Upright Mans bashers ensured honourable behaviour, but on a ship like Bears, the rule was strictly survival by strength, or by wits.
Knute shouted orders and the ship heeled over as it turned against the waves, striking for a safer course away from the rocks of Widows Point. Soon the ship was clear of the last of the underwater rocks, and the rowers struck a steady pace. The little pilot moved to the stern of the galley and looked over the fantail. In a brief flash, for an instant, he thought he saw something in the water. It was a swimmer, following after the ship with a powerful stroke.
Knutes eyes strained as he peered through the darkness, but nothing more was glimpsed of the swimmer. He rubbed his eyes. It must be the excitement, he thought, the chance to at last be rich and out from under the heel of men like Bear.
Turning his mind to the future, he again grinned. He had made deals before. He would pay off the wagoners, have them killed if necessary, and by the time he reached Krondor, every silver coin, every golden chain, every sparkling gem would be his.
Where are we going? asked a pirate.
Captain, said Knute.
What?
Where are we going, Captain, Knute repeated, coolly.
The pirate shrugged, as if it didnt matter, and said, Where are we going, Captain? How far down the coast are your men?
Knute grinned, knowing that this man like every other man in the crew would happily let him play at command up to the minute theyd cut his throat if they thought he would make them rich. He played along. Were meeting a gang at the beach north of Fishtown, outside of Krondor.
Fishtown it is! said the man, quickly adding, Captain!
Throughout the night the crew rowed, and when dawn was less than two hours away, Knute called one of his most trusted crewmen over. How are things?
Bears men are nervous, but theyre not smart enough to plan anything if they think they might lose out on what weve taken. But theyre still jumpy. You dont cross someone like Bear and sleep soundly.
Knute nodded, then said, If everythings secure, theres some wine and ale below. Break it out.
Aye, Captain, said the man, his grin widening. A celebration, eh? That will take the edge off.
Knute returned the grin, but said nothing.
Within minutes the noise of celebration emanated from below. For hours all Knute had heard was an ominous silence punctuated by the sound of rhythmic rowing, oars groaning in their oarlocks, wood creaking as the hull flexed, and the rattle of tackle and blocks in the rigging. Now the murmur of voices arose, some joking, others surprised, as men made the rounds of the rowing benches with casks and cups.
One of the pirates looked at Knute across the deck and Knute shouted, See that those aloft go below for a quick drink! Ill take the helm!
The pirate nodded, then shouted aloft as Knute made his way to the stern of the ship. He said to the helmsman, Go get something to drink. Ill take her in.
Going to beach her, Captain?
Knute nodded. Were coming in a bit after low tide. Shes heavy as a pregnant sow with all this booty. Once we offload, when high tide comes in, shell lift right off the beach and we can back her out.
The man nodded. He was familiar with the area near Fishtown; the beaches were gentle and Knutes plan made sense.
Knute had chosen a slow-acting poison. As he took the helm, he calculated that hed be coming into the beach by the time the first men began to pass out. With luck, those still alive would assume their companions were insensible from drink. With even more luck, the wagoners he had hired out of Krondor wouldnt have to cut any throats. They were teamsters working for a flat fee, not bully boys.
Knute had piled one lie atop another. The wagoners thought he was working for the Upright Man of Krondor, the leader of the Guild of Thieves. Knute knew that without that lie he would never control them once they saw the wealth he was bringing into the city. If the teamsters didnt believe a dread power stood behind Knute, hed be as dead as the rest of the crew come morning.
The sound of the water changed, and in the distance Knute could hear breakers rolling into the beach. He hardly needed to look to know where he was.
One of the pirates came staggering up the companionway from below and spoke. His speech was slurred. Captain, whats in this ale? The boys are passin Knute smiled at the seaman, a young thug of perhaps eighteen years. The lad pitched forward. A few voices from below shouted up to the deck, but their words were muffled, and quiet soon descended.
The oars had fallen silent and now came the most dangerous part of Knutes plan. He lashed down his tiller, sprang to the ratlines and climbed aloft. Alone he lowered one small sail, shimmied down a sheet, and tied off. That little sail was all he had to keep him from turning broad to the waves and being smashed upon the beach.
As he reached the tiller, a hand descended upon Knutes shoulder, spinning him around. He was confronted by a leering grin of sharpened teeth as dark eyes studied him. Shaskahan dont drink ale, little man.
Knute froze. He let his hand slip to a dagger in his belt but waited to see what the cannibal would do next. The man was motionless. Dont drink ale, he repeated.
Ill give you half the gold, Knute whispered.
I take all of it, said the cannibal, as he drew out his large belt knife. And then I eat you.
Knute leaped backward and drew his own knife. He knew that he was no match for the veteran killer, but he was fighting for his life and the biggest trove of riches he would ever see. He waited, praying for a few more moments.
The cannibal said again, Shaskahan dont drink ale. Knute saw the mans legs begin to shake as he took a step forward. Suddenly the man was on his knees, his eyes going blank. Then he fell face forward. Knute cautiously knelt next to the man and examined him. He sheathed his knife as he leaned close to the cannibals face, sniffed once, then stood.
You dont drink ale, you murdering whores son, but you do drink brandy.
With a laugh Knute unlashed the tiller as the ship swept forward into breakers. He pointed it like an arrow at a long, flat run of beach and as the ship ploughed prow first into the sand, he saw the three large wagons sitting atop the bluffs. Six men whod been sitting on the shore leapt to their feet as the ship ground to a halt in the sand. Knute had ordered the wagons not be brought down to the cove, for once loaded theyd be sunk to their hubs in sand. The teamsters would have to cart all the gold up the small bluff to the wagons. It would be hard, sweaty work.
No sooner had the ship stopped moving than Knute was shouting orders. The six wagoners hurried forward, while Knute pulled his knife. He was going to ensure no one below recovered from too little poison, then he was going to get that treasure to Krondor.
There was one man in the world he knew he could trust and that man would help him hide all these riches. Then Knute would celebrate, get drunk, pick a fight, and get himself thrown into jail. Let Bear come for him, thought Knute, if by some miracle he had survived. Let the crazed animal of a pirate try to reach him in the bowels of the citys stoutest jail, surrounded by the city watch. That would never happen at the very least Bear would be captured by the city guards; more likely hed be killed. Once Knute knew for certain Bears fate, he could bargain for his own life. For he was the only man who knew where the Ishapian ship had gone down. He could lead the Princes men and a representative of the Wreckers Guild to the site, where the Wreckers Guilds mage could raise the ship and they could offload whatever trinket it was that Bear had been after. Then hed be a free man while Bear rotted in the Princes dungeon or hung from the gibbet or rested at the bottom of the sea. And let everyone think the rest of the treasure went down with the pirate ship in the deep water trench just a mile offshore.
No sooner had the ship stopped moving than Knute was shouting orders. The six wagoners hurried forward, while Knute pulled his knife. He was going to ensure no one below recovered from too little poison, then he was going to get that treasure to Krondor.
There was one man in the world he knew he could trust and that man would help him hide all these riches. Then Knute would celebrate, get drunk, pick a fight, and get himself thrown into jail. Let Bear come for him, thought Knute, if by some miracle he had survived. Let the crazed animal of a pirate try to reach him in the bowels of the citys stoutest jail, surrounded by the city watch. That would never happen at the very least Bear would be captured by the city guards; more likely hed be killed. Once Knute knew for certain Bears fate, he could bargain for his own life. For he was the only man who knew where the Ishapian ship had gone down. He could lead the Princes men and a representative of the Wreckers Guild to the site, where the Wreckers Guilds mage could raise the ship and they could offload whatever trinket it was that Bear had been after. Then hed be a free man while Bear rotted in the Princes dungeon or hung from the gibbet or rested at the bottom of the sea. And let everyone think the rest of the treasure went down with the pirate ship in the deep water trench just a mile offshore.
Knute congratulated himself on his masterful plan, and set about his grisly work, as the wagoners from Krondor climbed aboard to offload the Upright Mans treasure.
Miles away as the dawn broke, a solitary figured emerged from the breakers. His massive frame hung with clothing tattered and soaked from hours in the brine. He had tossed aside his weapons to lighten himself for a long swim. One good eye surveyed the rocks and he calculated where he had come ashore. With dry sand under his now bare feet, the huge pirate let out a scream of primal rage.
Knute! he shouted at the sky. By the dark god Ill hunt you down and have your liver on a stick. But first youll tell me where the Tear of the Gods is!
Knowing that he had to find weapons and a new pair of boots, Bear turned northward, towards the secret temple at Widows Peak and the village of Haldons Head. There he would find some men to serve him and with their help they would track down Knute and the others. Every member of his crew who had betrayed him would die a slow, agonizing death. Again Bear let out a bellow of rage. As the echoes died against the windswept rocks, he squared his shoulders and began walking.
CHAPTER ONE
Arrival
JAMES HURRIED THROUGH THE NIGHT.
As he moved purposefully across the courtyard of the Princes palace in Krondor, he still felt the odd ache and twinge, reminders of his recent beating at the hands of the Nighthawks while he had been their captive. For the most part he was nearly back to his usual state of fitness. Despite that, he still felt the need for more sleep than usual, so of course, he had only just settled into a deep slumber when a page came knocking upon his door and informed James that the overdue caravan from Kesh had been sighted approaching the city. James had gotten up and dressed despite every fibre of his being demanding that he roll over in his warm bed and return to slumber.
Silently cursing the need to meet the arriving magician, he reached the outer gate where two guards stood their stations.
Evening, gentlemen. Alls well?
The senior of the two guards, an old veteran named Crewson, saluted. Quiet as the grave, Squire. Wherere you bound at this ungodly hour? He motioned for the other guard to open the gate so that James could leave the precinct of the palace.
Stifling a yawn, James said, The Princes new mage has arrived from Stardock, and Ive the dubious honour of meeting her at the North Gate.
The younger guard smiled in mock sympathy. Ah, youve all the luck, Squire. He swung the gate wide to allow James to depart.
With a wry smile, James passed through the opening. Id rather have a good nights sleep, but duty calls. Fare you well, gentlemen.
James picked up his pace, as he knew the caravan would disband quickly upon arrival. He wasnt worried about the magicians safety, as the city guard would be augmented by caravan guards coming off duty, but he was concerned over the possible lapse in protocol should he not be there to greet her. While she might be only a distant relative of the Ambassador from Great Kesh to the Western Court, she was still a noble by rank, and relations between the Kingdom of the Isles and Great Kesh had never been what one might call tranquil. A good year was one in which there were three or fewer border skirmishes.
James decided to take a shortcut from the palace district to the North Gate, one that would require he pass through a warehouse district behind the Merchants Quarter. He knew the city as well as any living man, and had no concerns about getting lost, but when two figures detached themselves from the shadows as he rounded a corner, he cursed himself for a fool. The out-of-the-way route was unlikely to be host to many citizens abroad on lawful business at this time of night. And these two looked nothing like lawful citizens.
One carried a large billy club and had a long belt knife, while the other rested his hand easily upon a sword. The first wore a red leather vest while his companion wore a simple tunic and trousers. Both had sturdy boots on, and James instantly recognized them for what they were: common street thugs. They were almost certainly freebooters, men not associated with the Mockers, the Guild of Thieves.
James pushed aside his self-recriminations for taking this shortcut, for the matter was now beyond changing.
The first man said, Ah, whats the city coming to?
The second nodded, moving to flank James should he try to run. Its a sad state of affairs. Gentlemen of means, wanderin the streets after midnight. What can they be thinking?
Red-vest pointed his billy club at James and said, He must be thinkin his purse is just too heavy and be hopin for a helpful pair like us to relieve him of it.
James let out a slow breath and calmly said, Actually, I was thinking about the foolishness of men who dont recognize a dangerous mark when they see one. He drew his rapier slowly and moved the point to halfway between the two men, so that he would be able to parry an attack from either man.
The only danger here is tryin to cross us, said the second thug, drawing his sword and lashing out at James.
I really dont have time for this, James said. He parried the blow easily and riposted. The swordsman barely pulled back in time to avoid being skewered like a holiday pig.
Red-vest pulled out his belt knife and swung his billy club, but James ducked aside and kicked out with his right leg, propelling the man into his companion. You still have time to run away, my friends.
Red-vest grunted, recovered his balance, and rushed James, threatening with the billy club while holding his knife in position to do the real damage. James recognized the mans outrage this was no longer a simple mugging; these two men now meant to kill him. He ignored the billy club, dodging towards it rather than away, and sliced at the mans left wrist. The knife fell to the stones with a clatter.
While Red-vest howled in pain and fell back, his companion came rushing in, his sword cocked back over his shoulder. James danced backward for two steps, and as the man let fly with his wide swing designed to decapitate the young squire James leaned forward in a move he had learned from the Prince, his left hand touching the stones to aid his balance and his right hand extending out. The attackers sword passed harmlessly over Jamess head and he ran onto the point of Jamess rapier. The mans eyes widened in shock and he came to an abrupt halt, looked down in disbelief, then collapsed to his knees. James pulled his sword point free and the man toppled over.