The Mockers?
Everything. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. Ive already dispatched messages to Krondor. Bills boy is to apprentice with the Nightmaster. He is supposed to assume control of the Mockers, become the next Upright Man, when I step down.
I know James well, said Karrick. Hes as cunning as a sewer rat and ambitious: which is why his father wants him on the other side of the Kingdom. But he lacks the skill to manage things. And he has a temper.
Thats useful.
It should keep him from forming quick alliances in the Mockers, said Karrick.
Its immaterial, said Jim. Hell be dead sooner or later. Bill will get a message of condolence saying his boy died during a job gone terribly wrong, slain by the Crushers. Thats assuming, of course, that Bills still alive.
Karrick said, I gather that means Im supposed to decide when its time to remove Bill?
How many know that Bill is the Council?
His three sons, myself, two others. After that its much the same as the Mockers. A message comes through the local gang chief from the Council, delivered by a street boy.
And you control the street boys, still?
Karrick nodded.
One son to Krondor. Arrange with an army sergeant you trust to have one other son arrested and sympathize with Bill when he dies trying to escape. The last son, leave until after Bills death and keep close to him, make yourself indispensable until its time for you to take his place. The two others you decide if they will serve you or need replacing.
Theyll serve, said Karrick. And I know which son to arrest and which to commiserate with for a while.
When Bills son James is on his way to Krondor and after Im gone begin these tasks. Ensure that Anne always knows how to reach you.
Jim was ready to leave and said, Our relationship cuts both ways, Karrick. Not in issues of blood, no matter what they may or may not be, but of this: as close as I may be to being a father to you, so you are to being a son to me. It is not ideal; I have no such illusions, but youve been loyal and reliable, as much as any father would wish to a son to be. When all is said and done, if it is within my means, I shall deliver you to higher standing than a king among thieves.
Karrick laughed. You see me standing in the palace with starched shirt and brocade coat? Dancing with the ladies?
Jim shared the laugh. Whats the matter? You cant dance?
Karrick kept chuckling and said, All will be done as youve instructed. I will wait to hear from you.
Jim thought for a moment. Then he said, If you dont hear from me within the month, send word after this thing is done to the Black Ram in Ran. I believe that is Bills usual place to exchange messages. We might as well continue to use his couriers.
Bill alive or dead, thats the easiest way, agreed Karrick. So that means youre bound to Ran?
Sooner or later, said Jim as he rose.
Ill finish my drink, said the young thief.
Fare well,
Fare well all of us, replied Karrick.
Then Jim was out of the door.
Jim made his way to the docks where a ship was ready to depart for Ran. He had already had his name added to the roster of sailors. Now he purchased a small bottle of evil-smelling distilled spirits and poured it over his head before reaching the royal docks.
He feigned being intoxicated as he hurried along the long pier jutting out into the harbour. He knew that Sir William would have agents watching every ship leaving the harbour, but assumed he might be less vigilant on the Navy Pier, given that it was already crawling with military, any of whom would be quick to seize a suspicious-looking character like Jim in time of war.
But there was one ship on the pier which was not a warship but a transport vessel, and it had a civilian crew. And when he reached the gangway, two bored-looking Royal Marines were flanking the plank up to the ship.
Papers, one demanded as he got there.
Then from above, the bosuns voice cut through the air like a knife. Jax! You drunken whores son! I should leave you there and make you swim after the ship! Get your lazy arse up here!
Jim successfully looked unfocused and unsure. He fumbled in his shirt as if he was trying to find his papers, and the bosun roared, Now, damn your eyes!
The marine shook his head slightly and said, Go on, then.
Jim went up the gangway and received an ungentle slap to the back of the head as he passed the bosun, another of the few agents left in the military he could trust. Jim would no doubt get punishment, and the rest of the crew knew better than to question the presence of a newcomer if the bosun knew him: theyd assumed hed sailed with that man before and was getting a second chance, a story that Jim would relay if asked.
He hurried below, stowed his gear, then headed back on deck. He might reek of spirits, but he was not drunk, so he quickly made his way to the topgallants and made ready to lower sail.
Jim felt an unusual sinking in his stomach and realized that never before in his life had he felt this sense of foreboding. And he felt an unfamiliar pang; he was betraying Bill the Butcher. Usually such treachery would hardly give him a moments pause, but for some reason this time he felt bad about condemning the man to death. He realized that despite what he had said to Bill, he really did want to get out of this business and what he had said to Karrick was the truth. He would quit and find a suitable replacement for both Jim Dasher of Krondor and James Jamison, agent of the King.
For a brief moment, Jim could hang in the yards, his feet supported only by footropes, as he waited for the command to lower sail. He reflected on his decision and knew it was the right one; he was spent. He would die for the Crown, but he would not waste away for it.
He wondered how his counterparts, Kaseem and especially Franciezka, were doing and hoped they were experiencing better fortune than he was at the moment.
Lady Franciezka Sorboz crouched low behind a decorative hedge, one hand resting on a lethal dagger. The blade was coated with a venom that would paralyse whoever was cut within seconds, preventing an alarm being raised. For an instant she was struck by the incongruity of sneaking into the very palace in which she often resided, the defences for which she had helped to fashion. She particularly loved this garden, behind the guest quarters now occupied by Lord John Worthington. She remembered lovely summer nights like this with the air spiced by the scent of jasmine and gardenia.
Franciezka wore tight-fitting travel togs and boots designed to permit quick movement, and minimize snagging on branches or the iron spikes embedded into the wall she had just climbed.
She was desperate to break the stalemate within the palace. The King and Queen were locked up in their apartments, sumptuous surroundings for certain, but no less a prison. All communication with the household staff and the government were being conducted through Lord John Worthingtons most trusted lackeys.
Franciezka was reduced to a handful of agents she could trust, but none were placed close enough to the royal family to help. Her entire organization had been designed to look outward, at Kesh and the Isles and the Eastern Kingdoms, not inward. Kesh might have their secret police, but it was not under Kaseem Hazara-Khans purview. Jim used his Mockers in Krondor and his contacts with other criminal elements to gather information, but given the politics and history of the Kingdom of the Isles, a revolt by the nobility was more likely than any popular uprising, and the last one they had endured was over three hundred years ago.
Roldems population was far more homogenous than either rival nation. The Isles and Kesh were like conquered city-states and regions forged into a single empire or kingdom by centuries of occupation and absorption. But Yabon was different to Rillanon, and the Isalani people were nothing like the Truebloods of the Overn Deep. Roldem had always been one people.
Given Roldems history, a coup detat was unthinkable. And even under Lord Johns offices, it didnt feel like a coup, at least not yet.
But something was underway that was creating disastrous consequences for the Kingdom of Roldem. Trade was at a standstill and the only goods produced on the island were still in abundance, but they were quickly being consumed or bought up by speculators. She reckoned they were less than three months from a scarcity that would have the population demanding an end to the Keshian blockade. A month after that would come food riots in the streets of the capital.
She moved along the wall, alert to any passing patrols or guards, but found this portion of the palace unguarded. She wasnt entirely sure why, as the rest of the complex was ringed with guards.
A loyal servant had mentioned that something was planned for Lord Johns private quarters, as instructions had been given that two hours after sunset his quarters were to be sealed off and he was not to be disturbed until he personally opened the doors. No visitors were scheduled but he had requested that food and wine be provided. Even his son and most trusted aides were being ordered out of his quarters.
His determination for privacy played to her advantage, because he had ordered the guards who might patrol outside his quarters out of this garden. They were now patrolling on the street beyond the wall she had clambered over, their usual routine disrupted and their vigilance compromised. Not that they were ever that vigilant, thought Franciezka as she moved through shadows; the palace guards not detailed to protect the royal family were soldiers of little value used mostly for ceremony. She crossed an open expanse of lawn to reach the wall of the palace, ducking into the shadow of an elm tree that would cut the afternoons glare through the terrace windows of Lord John Worthingtons quarters.
She was determined to discover what it was Lord John was up to. Inching her way to the balcony outside Lord Johns private quarters, she listened.
She could hear mens voices inside, though the words were indistinct. She peered up over the edge of the balcony, between stone risers and then ducked back down. Lord Johns quarters had large glass doors opening on to a broad low balcony, and in the heat of summer he had left them open. But getting up over the railing would prove difficult without being seen.
Glancing up again, she saw that the two men in the room with Lord John had their backs to her, so she moved to the closest point to the wall where the balcony began, just out of Lord Johns line of vision, and nimbly leapt up to the rail, then down, landing silently. Her knees hurt slightly and she realized she was starting to feel her age.