Krondor: The Assassins. Raymond E. Feist

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СКАЧАТЬ or a baker or someone who can expect a fair chance at living to old age. But for a Mocker …’ He let the thought go unfinished.

      Graves said, ‘What’s the clock? We’ve been cut off from sunlight so long I have no sense of it.’

      ‘It’s nearly midnight,’ said Limm. ‘Why?’

      ‘With the Upright Man dead, or even just the rumour of it, things will be happening. Ships that would otherwise have stayed in Krondor will be leaving the docks before the morning tide.’

      Limm fixed Graves with a questioning look. ‘You know something?’

      Graves stood up from the small chair and said, ‘I know lots of things, boy.’

      Limm jumped to his feet. ‘Please take me with you. You’re the only friends I’ve got, and if the Upright Man’s dead, who knows who’ll come to rule in his place. If it’s that Crawler, most of us are dead anyway, and even if it’s one of our own, who’s to say what my life is worth?’

      Graves and Kat understood. The peace within the Mockers was imposed from the top down, and it would never be mistaken for friendship. Old grudges would surface and old scores would be settled. More than one Mocker would die not knowing for which past transgression he was paying the ultimate penalty. Graves sighed in resignation. ‘Very well. Not much for you here, I’ll grant, and another pair of eyes and nimble fingers might prove worthwhile.’ He glanced at Kat, who nodded silently.

      ‘What’s the plan?’

      ‘We need to be at the docks before the dawn. There’s a ship there, a Quegan trader, the Stella Maris. The captain is an old business acquaintance of mine. He was lying low, claiming a refit was needed, against the time when we could smuggle ourselves out of here. He’ll sail for Durbin as soon as we board.’

      Kat said, ‘Lots of ships will be leaving on the morning tide, so another won’t cause too much notice.’

      Limm look excited. ‘When do we head to the docks?’

      ‘An hour before dawn. It’ll still be dark enough for us to stay in shadows, but enough of the town will be awake and about so we won’t attract much attention.’

      Kat smiled. ‘We’ll be a family.’

      Limm’s narrow young face took on a sour expression. ‘Mother?’

      Kat was barely ten years older than Limm, so she said, ‘Big sister.’

      Limm said, ‘We have one problem, though.’

      Graves nodded. ‘Getting to the street.’

      Limm sat back, for he knew that there could be no plan, ruse, or providential miracle that would get them safely to the docks. They would simply have to leave this hideout and risk a short walk through a dark tunnel which might house a dozen murderers or sewer rats. And they wouldn’t know which until they left. Limm was suddenly tired and said, ‘I think I’ll sleep for a bit.’

      ‘Good idea,’ agreed Graves. ‘There’s a pallet over there you can use. We’ll wake you when it’s time to go.’

      Limm moved to the indicated corner and lay down. Kat whispered, ‘What are the odds?’

      ‘Bad,’ admitted her lover. ‘We’ve got to get the boy some clothing. Dirty boys are nothing unusual at the dock. But not that dirty.’ Trying to muster some optimism, he said, ‘Still, if the Upright Man is dead, there may be enough chaos in the city that we can slip out without attracting notice.’

      ‘Any other choice?’

      ‘Only one,’ admitted Graves, ‘but I won’t use it unless we’re caught.’

      ‘What is it?’

      Graves looked at the young girl for whom he had thrown away everything and said, ‘I have one friend left, who gains nothing from my fall. If I must, I’ll send Limm to him begging for help.’

      ‘Who?’ whispered Kat.

      Graves closed his eyes as if admitting he might seek help was hard for one as self-reliant as himself. ‘The only thief who can beg the Prince of Krondor for my life.’

      ‘Jimmy?’

      Graves nodded. ‘Jimmy the Hand.’

       • CHAPTER TWO •

       Krondor

      THE COLUMN RODE TOWARDS THE CITY.

      Krondor was backlit by a late afternoon sun, dark towers rising against a lemon-yellow sky. In the east, distant clouds turned rose and orange against a blue that seemed to shimmer. The column behind the Prince’s vanguard tightened up as they entered the southernmost city gate, the one closest to the palace and barracks. Traffic in the area was normal for this time of day: a few traders drove wagons into the city, while farmers who’d visited the city for the day were leaving, starting their homeward journey.

      James pointed. ‘Not much of a welcome, is it?’

      Locklear saw that a few curious onlookers were turning to watch the approaching company that was escorting Arutha through the palace district. Otherwise they were ignored by the citizenry, as they had been since entering the outer reaches of Krondor. ‘I guess Arutha didn’t send word we would arrive today.’

      ‘No, there’s something else,’ said James, his days of fatigue washing away as curiosity took hold of him.

      Locklear looked at the faces of those on the street who stood aside to let the Prince’s company ride past, and saw anxiety. ‘You’re right, James.’

      The capital city of the Western Realm of the Kingdom of the Isles was never silent. Even at the darkest hours before sunrise, sounds could be heard from all quarters. There was a pulse to any city, and Krondor had one that was as well known to James as his own heartbeat. He could listen to its rhythm and understand what it was saying: Something’s wrong. It was less than an hour before sundown, yet the city was far more subdued than it should be.

      Locklear listened and knew what it was James was hearing, a muted quality, as if everyone was speaking a little more softly than usual. A shout from a teamster to his mules was cut slightly short, lest it hang too long in the air and attract notice. A mother’s command for a child to come home was short and sharp, followed by a low threatening warning rather than a top-of-the-voice shriek.

      ‘What do you think is going on?’ asked Locklear.

      Just ahead, Arutha spoke quietly to the two squires without looking back. ‘We should find out in a moment.’

      The young men looked past their ruler and saw a committee waiting for them at the palace gate. In the forefront was Princess Anita, her smile edged with relief at seeing her husband unharmed before her. Still youthful despite ten years of marriage and motherhood, her red hair was gathered up under a wide white hat, looking more like a sailing ship set atop her head, thought СКАЧАТЬ