Crossing the courtyard, James considered that William was a tough enough lad. He could handle himself. James suspected that Gordon might turn out to be as tough in his own way, too. Besides, Treggar had been a bachelor officer a long time and knew precisely what he could and couldn't get away with in the bachelor officers' mess. Being Head of Mess had privileges, but it had responsibilities as well, and had Treggar been truly abusive Gardan would have removed him a long time ago. One thing James knew about Arutha and his knight-marshal: there was no detail so trivial that it escaped their notice for too long. Problems were quickly uncovered and dealt with.

Pa.s.sing through the gate, James considered his first stop as a guard waved a casual salute to him. Then James stopped. He had left by the western gate of the palace, once the main entrance, but now used mostly for ceremonial arrivals, processions from the city, holy day rites, and the like, while most of the commerce of the palace now was conducted via the harbor gate and the eastern gate.

A great house sat on the opposite side of the square that marked the western boundary of the palace grounds. Between the house and the gate stood a fountain, modest in size, but ancient and considered something of a landmark, for it had been the first in the city constructed by the order of one of the early princes. James studied the house. It was a large building, the ma.s.sive exterior promising many interior rooms. And to the best of his knowledge, it had been abandoned for years. James corrected himself; it wasn't abandoned, but unoccupied. From time to time some activity could be detected around the building, a fresh coat of paint on wood trim or the iron gate, or repairs to stones in the outer wall. But now it was clear someone was preparing the building to be occupied.

"What's going on?" he asked a guard at the gate, nodding toward the house.

"Don't know. Been wagons coming and going since yesterday, squire."

'That house has been closed up as long as I can remember," said the guard standing on the other side of the gate. "Don't know even who owns it."

James said, "It's owned by the Temple of Ishap."

Both cast him a glance, but neither asked how he knew. James made a habit of knowing things about the city and neither guard doubted his word.

"They usually keep to themselves," James half muttered. "I wonder what this is about?"

Both guards knew the question was rhetorical and kept silent, as James turned his attention from the new arrival across the street to an old problem: the Nighthawks.

James emerged from between two buildings, his clothing far less fashionable than what he had worn when he had left the palace. He had several stashes around the city where he had secreted clothing, weapons, and money, against a mult.i.tude of possible needs. Blending into the common rabble was common necessity for the Prince's squire.

James moved through the midday press in the merchants' section of the city, near where it unofficially turned into the Poor Quarter. No one could point to any map or charter that defined the city's districts in such a fashion, but all who lived in Krondor knew where the market section ended and the dockside began, where Harborside became Fishtown and how the other unofficial precincts were arrayed. And knowing where one district ended and another began was vital to one's health and safety, James knew.

He crossed the nondescript street that separated the merchants' and Poor quarters, and as he entered the latter, the streets seemed to shrink, to narrow, to confine. Buildings rose up on both sides, leaving barely enough room for a cart to pa.s.s between, keeping them in gloom except when the sun was at its zenith.

James's posture and walk didn't change as he moved into his old haunts, but his awareness did. The streets of the poor quarter in the daytime were almost as busy as the other sections of the city, but they were far more dangerous. The dangers were less obvious than at night, but they were potentially more lethal for their subtlety. Within moments James sensed the disquiet that permeated the district. Glances were more furtive than usual, people moved just a bit more hurriedly than was the norm. Voice were hushed and strangers were watched closely. The killings were making a suspicious population even less trusting.

James turned into an even narrower path, an alley with an occasional door or a wooden stairway to a second story entrance above. Near the end of the alley he saw a hunched-over figure securing items to a two-wheeled pony cart. The door that had been his intended destination was open.

James drew his dagger and held it so it was hidden behind his wrist. A quick flip would bring it into play if needed.

Reaching striking distance to the figure he stopped and said, "Sophia?"

The figure turned and drew herself to her full height and James relaxed. The woman was gray-haired with just enough dark brown to show the original color of her youth. She held one hand in what James knew was a warding position. A moment later, she relaxed and said, "Jimmy. You just about scared what few years I have left out of me."

James walked over to the pony cart and then glanced at the open door. "Leaving?"

"As soon as I tie down this last bundle."

"Where are you bound?"

"I don't know, and I'm not sure I want anyone in Krondor knowing where I land, Jimmy."

James studied the woman's face. Never a pretty woman-her features had rightly been called horsey in her youth-Sophia possessed a strength in her bearing and a strong body that made her striking, and had won her a fair share of lovers over the years, men of wealth as often as not. But Sophia's trade in spells, charms and magic potions had gained her a life that was ultimately solitary, save for a few trusted friends, like James.

James nodded at her remark. "If you want to vanish, I understand, but I would like to know why if I may?"

"You've heard of the killings; I don't have to ask. You wouldn't be the Prince's man and not know."

"You're fearful of joining that departed company?"

She nodded. Adjusting her blue dress and fetching a black shawl off the top of the cart, she moved to close the door to her small room. "What may not have caught your attention is that most of those who are not members of the Mockers, removed for reasons you're no doubt more familiar with than I, were pract.i.tioners of the art."

"Magicians?" asked James, suddenly keenly interested in what the woman had to say.

"Five to the best of my knowledge. Most of their names would be unknown to you, for they practiced in private. We're not as public a bunch as those down in Stardock, Jimmy. Some of us prefer a quiet livelihood."

"And others?"

"Practice crafts which might not be looked upon with favor by those in power."

"Black arts?"

"Nothing so sinister, but let's say a merchant wants a compet.i.tor's cargo of grain to rot before shipment, or a gambler needs an edge in a big game. There are those who practice such arts as will provide what is needed."

"For a price," observed James.

Sophia nodded. "Someone is eliminating magicians in Krondor, James."

James glanced around. "How many others are there?"

Sophia said, "Help me turn this around. I should have pointed it that way before I loaded it."

James helped the woman turn the cart around, and watched as she knelt between the twin stalls of the wagon and picked them up. He knew better than to offer to help; Sophia was as independent-minded a woman as he had ever encountered, and he had known several. "You ought to get a small horse or pony to pull that thing."

"I can't afford one," she answered as she started to pull all her worldly possessions out of the alley.

"I can . . . loan you the funds for a horse, Sophia. You were always kind to a rude street boy."

She smiled and years fell away from her face. "You were never rude. Obnoxious, yes, but never rude." Then her smile vanished. "I'd just have to feed the beast, but thanks for the offer."

As they reached the corner Sophia halted and said, "But I should be asking you what brought you to my door."

James laughed. "Actually, it was a minor magical problem." He explained about the Princess Paulina's amulet and its effect, and finished by saying, "If my young friend is to be spending time in her company, I think it would be to his benefit if he had some means of resisting her charms."

Sophia chuckled at the play on words. "Charms. I like that. Well, I have something that may help your friend." She put down the stalls and went to the rear of the cart. She pulled up the tie-down cover she had just fastened and said, "Wish you said something before I did this," and reached in. She pulled out a small bag and rummaged through it. "I have an effective potion, but that will only last for a few hours." She held up a small ring. "But this this might do." It was simply fashioned, of a gray-silver metal and was adorned with a single dull red semi-precious stone. might do." It was simply fashioned, of a gray-silver metal and was adorned with a single dull red semi-precious stone.

She handed it to James. "It protects the wearer from a variety of minor enchantments and spells. Likely the sort of thing the young lady employs. It's useless against anything of substance, but at the least it will keep the girl's effects confined to what nature gave her."

James took the ring. "Thanks. What do I owe you?"

"For you," she said, "nothing." She refastened her tie-downs.

James said, "Why the sudden generosity?"

"You've done me a favor or two in the past, Jimmy. Let's call it a parting gift." She picked up the stalls again and pulled her cart out of the alley and into the street that would eventually lead them out of the Poor Quarter.

James dodged aside as two boys hurried past. For a moment he wondered if it had been a slash and grab, with one cutting his purse and the other trying to grab it, then he realized they were just city boys running for the pure joy of it.

James patted his purse to ensure it was indeed where he had left it, and then he untied it from his belt. Tucking the bag under the cover on the wagon, he said, "Then let me return a parting gift. You'll need some coins to set yourself up wherever you land."

She smiled, her blue eyes bright. "You're a friend, Jimmy."

"When you think it's safe, let me know where you've landed, Sophia."

She said, "I will," and, leaving him, took the major road that led to the eastern gate.

James watched her vanish into the press of the city and then turned back toward the palace. Whatever else he did this afternoon, he needed to return for a short chat with the Prince.

He still had little idea what was behind the seemingly random murders of citizens in Krondor, but the fact that many of them were pract.i.tioners of magic was too important not to bring to Arutha's attention at once. The afternoon sun burned hot, yet James felt a chill creeping into his bones.

SEVEN - Ambush

The horses whinnied.

William glanced around. He was already tense from having the responsibility of his first command, even though he was accompanied by a well-seasoned sergeant and twenty veteran soldiers. Captain Treggar, even though a bully in the young officers' mess, had taken William aside and said, "If you want to look stupid in front of the men, give orders. If you want to look like you know what you're doing, just tell Sergeant Matthews what you want."

Despite his dislike for the man, William had taken the advice to heart and so far had looked like he knew what he was doing. The sun was near the mid-heaven, so William said, "Sergeant!"

"Sir!" came the prompt reply.

"Find us a likely place to take the midday meal."

They were traveling along a road that was wending its way up into the forested foothills north of Krondor. William was alert, but not overly worried, as this area was considered relatively pacified. An occasional gang of robbers might hara.s.s travelers, but no group of sufficient size to attack a score of mounted soldiers had been reported in the region for months. There were areas farther up the coast that were difficult to keep under control, but this area had been selected as much for the safety of the Prince's guests as for the abundance of game.

The sergeant, a weatherbeaten old veteran named Matthews with surprisingly vivid blue eyes and nearly white hair, said, "There's an inn around that bend, sir. I wouldn't suggest n.o.bility spend the night in such a place, but for a midday meal, it should do."

"Send word ahead we're coming," said William.

"Aye, sir."

A soldier spurred his horse on Matthews' command and by the time the procession reached the inn, all was ready for them. It was a modest two-story building with a chimney producing a healthy amount of smoke. The sign over the door showed a large tree under which slept a man with a travel bag. Matthews turned to William and said, "It's called The Tree and Traveler, sir."

The innkeeper was waiting for them. The soldier had obviously told the man that visitors of rank were approaching, for without knowing who they were, the man was bowing and sc.r.a.ping to everyone as they stopped before his door.

The Duke of Olasko dismounted from his horse and a servant quickly had his hand out to help Princess Paulina dismount from her horse. She had insisted on wearing breeches and riding astride, and she ignored the helping hand, jumping nimbly to the ground. "I'm starving!" she announced to everyone. To the innkeeper she said, "What is todays fare?"

The man bowed, "Milady, we have a side of venison on the spit, cooked to a turn. I have game hens roasting and they will be finished within the half-hour. I have a hard cheese and fresh bread, apples and other fresh fruits, as well as dried. I have freshly-caught fish in the kitchen, but it is not yet cooked. If you wish, I can have it-"

The duke interrupted. "The venison will do, as will the hens. But first, ale. I am thirsty as well as famished."

William gave orders for the soldiers to secure the baggage horses, and instructed Matthews to have the men water the horses, before taking their own ease. As he turned to join the guests inside, he said, "I'll have some fresh fruit and ale sent out for the men."

Matthews nodded. "Thank you, lieutenant."

William knew the men had eaten well enough that morning and this was far from a campaign march supplied with dried meats and hardtack, but it was a gesture that would be appreciated. He followed the n.o.bles into the inn. It was a simple establishment, with two large rectangular tables in the center of the room, two small round tables in the corners on the right, a flight of stairs along the left wall leading to the second story, and a modest bar along the back wall, next to what was obviously a kitchen door. A large hearth dominated the right wall. Most of the cooking was done there, it appeared, since a woman came hurrying from the kitchen to add something to the large kettle that sat simmering near the fire. A side of venison was being turned by a boy who sat in wide-eyed amazement at the rare sight of the n.o.bles.

William glanced around the room and saw two men sitting at one of the round tables. Neither appeared armed, so William's first judgment was that they were no threat. One was an older man, his hair nearly gone from his pate, leaving him with a long fringe of gray hair that hung to his shoulders. His nose was a huge hawk's beak, but it was hardly noticeable because of his eyes. There was something compelling about them.

William thought his clothing to be of fine weave, if less than fashionable. His companion wore a simple gray robe, with a hood thrown back. He was either a monk, priest, or a magician of some kind, William thought. Most people would not come to that conclusion, but then most people hadn't spent their boyhood growing up on an island full of magicians. He decided he needed to re-evaluate their threat potential.

He looked over to see the innkeeper fawning over the duke and his party, so rather than take his seat at the foot of the table, William crossed to the two men and said, "Your business here?"

The robed man glanced up and seeing that it was an officer of the Prince's guard who spoke, simply said, "We're just travelers, sir."

William sensed something pa.s.s between the men and for a moment suspected mindspeech. William could speak with animals, a talent he had possessed since birth, though he found it of marginal use. Only Fantus, his father's pet firedrake, had the intelligence to discuss anything beyond food and other basic concepts. When it came to human magic, William was an observer, but he had observed enough to be sensitive to it. "My prince has important guests in the realm, and it is my duty to see to their well-being. From where are you traveling and what is your destination?"

The man with the compelling eyes said, "I am traveling to the coast, a village called Halden Head. I am coming from the east."

The other man said, "I am bound to Krondor, sir. I come from Eggley."

"So you just happened to decide to share a meal?"

The robed man said, "A chance meeting. We are exchanging gossip about the places to which each of us is bound."

"Your names?"

"I am Jaquin Medosa," answered the man William thought might be a magician.

"My name is Sidi," said the other.

William looked at him for a long moment. There was something vaguely troubling about him. Yet the two men were eating peacefully and bothering no one. "Thank you for your cooperation," he said. Without further comment he returned to the duke's table.

Food and ale were being placed before the guests, and William signaled the innkeeper and asked that ale and fresh fruit be sent out to the soldiers. When that was done, he set about enjoying his own lunch. But throughout the meal he couldn't help but glance from time to time to the corner table, where the two men sat lost in deep conversation. He was sure that on at least two occasions the man called Sidi had glanced his way.

The Princess asked William a question and he turned to answer. After a little banter, he said a silent thanks to James for providing him with his ring, for he found the girl mildly attractive and occasionally irritating now, as opposed to the overwhelming desire he had felt upon first meeting her. Paulina appeared to be unaware of his lack of ardor and she continued to chatter as if he was under her spell. When he had finished answering her question, William looked in the corner and saw that the two men were gone.

It was near evening when they arrived at the camp. Trackers from Krondor had gone ahead and had scouted the area for a likely campsite as well as the location of nearby game. The servants quickly unloaded the baggage train and erected tents for the duke and his family.

William and his men would sleep under the sky, with small service tents available should the weather turn inclement. As the sun sank in the west, servants hurriedly prepared the evening meal while William sent the trackers out for a quick sweep of the area and posted sentries. There was little danger in this area, but even a newly commissioned knight-lieutenant wouldn't risk the lives of visiting dignitaries by not taking every precaution.

Matthews oversaw the watches and made sure those not standing watch ate and tended their equipment. In the field it was the rule that each man was responsible for his mount, so even though lackeys had accompanied the hunting expedition, each soldier inspected his own horse before turning in.

William joined the duke's family in his quarters-more a pavilion than a tent-in which a table large enough to accommodate six people had been set out with food and wine. The duke invited him to join them for supper with a wave of his hand.