Shards of a Broken Crown. Raymond E. Feist

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      “We have a healing priest here. The Temple of Dala, at Rillanon, sent one to provide advice to the Prince.”

      Dash grinned. “You mean the King bullied them into having one close by in case Patrick was wounded.”

      “Something like that,” admitted Erik as he returned the smile. “Have him look at your feet. It wouldn’t do to have you going toeless.”

      Jimmy chewed, then swallowed. “Why am I suspicious you’re motivated more by my fitness for duty, Captain, than out of any concern for my well-being?”

      Erik shrugged theatrically. “Because you have a reasonable comprehension of how things work in court?”

      Jimmy suddenly looked very tired, as if letting down his mask. “How soon?” he asked.

      Erik looked sympathetic. “The end of this week. Three, four more days.”

      Jimmy nodded. He stood and said, “I’d better find that priest.”

      “Down the hall from the Prince’s quarters, next to my own. His name is Herbert. Tell him who you are; you look like a rag-picker.”

      Dash watched his brother leave and said, “As his feet thawed he could barely walk. I think that priest is going to earn his keep.”

      Erik took a cup of coffee from Milo, said thanks, then turned to Dash. “He already has. I’ve got a score of men fit for duty who would still be laid up if it wasn’t for that priest. And Nakor.”

      “Where is that scrawny lunatic?” asked Dash. “I haven’t seen him in a week.”

      “He’s out in the city, gathering converts for his new faith.”

      “How goes the summoning of the Blessed to spread the word of Good?”

      Erik laughed. “Recruiting those willing to work on behalf of good in the midst of winter, after a war has reduced the population to near starvation, is nearly beyond even Nakor’s conniving ways.”

      “Any takers?”

      “A couple. One or two are earnest, the others looking for a meal.”

      Dash nodded. “Is this next mission something I could do? Jimmy could use a rest.”

      “We all could,” said Erik. Then he shook his head. “But you’re not being spared, my friend, for we’re all going.”

      “Where?” asked Dash.

      “Krondor. Patrick can’t sit here forever. And if what your brother has reported jibes with the other reports we’re getting, the longer we wait, the stronger Fadawah’s forces are going to get in Krondor. We may have to hit them with everything we have sooner than we’d like.

      “With Kesh threatening our southern border, Patrick’s been reluctant to return the Armies of the East. Well, the King has ordered some elements back. Seems some of the Kingdom’s eastern neighbors are getting fractious now there isn’t a large standing army or huge fleet there to keep them in line. So Patrick’s in a hurry to retake Krondor before King Borric orders more soldiers home to the East.”

      Dash said, “So how many of us are going to Krondor?”

      “The Eagles,” said Erik, naming the special command of soldiers that had been gathered and trained by Dash and Jimmy’s grandfather Lord James, the late Duke of Krondor. “We’ll have some auxiliaries, Duga’s crew” – he named a large force of former mercenaries who had come over to the Kingdom’s side during the invasion – “and we’ll be working with Captain Subai’s Pathfinders.”

      “That’s all?” asked Dash.

      “That’s all to start,” said Erik. “We’re not trying to conquer all of the Principality in the first week.” He sipped at his coffee. “We were going to find a likely place to hold so we can stage, then we ride in and secure Krondor.”

      “Sounds easy,” said Dash in a sarcastic tone. “If there wasn’t another army already there.” He studied Erik’s face. “There’s something else going on. Why is Patrick in such a hurry to secure the city? I can think of a half-dozen better places from which to stage a retaking of the West if I didn’t care about Krondor; we could cut it off and starve out whoever’s there, staging from a camp to the east.”

      “I know,” said Erik, “but part of it is pride. It’s Patrick’s city, the capital of his realm. He was Prince of Krondor for only a short while before it was lost. And he followed a legend in that office.”

      Dash nodded. “Growing up in Rillanon, Jimmy and I met Prince Arutha only a few times; when I was old enough to appreciate him, he was getting on in years. But what my father and others said about him made him impressive, even then.” He looked at Erik a moment, then said, “You think Patrick’s of the notion that Arutha would somehow have held the city?”

      “Something like that,” said Erik. “The Prince doesn’t confide in me. But there’s more to it than just wounded pride. The other part of it is logistics. That harbor is going to be useless for years. If we had the manpower and equipment we had before the war in Krondor, all the workers, dredges, and a few cooperative magicians, even, it would still take a year to clear the harbor, maybe more. As it is now, I have no idea if Krondor will ever become the shipping center it once was.

      “But we have a new port south of there, in Shandon Bay, Port Vykor, and for it to be any use to us, we have to insure we have a clear trade route between there and the rest of the West, which means Krondor needs to be secured. We don’t need it, but we certainly can’t have Fadawah’s generals using it as a base to attack us.” He lowered his voice, as if not wishing for a perverse fate to overhear. “If we get cut off from Port Vykor, we may never reunite the Eastern and Western Realms.”

      Dash nodded. “That makes sense.”

      Erik put down his now empty mug and said, “That’s about all that does.”

      Dash nodded in agreement as Erik stood. Looking up at the tall, powerfully built captain, he said, “I haven’t seen my sometime employer about lately. How fares your friend Rupert?”

      Erik smiled. “Roo is hauling some ridiculous amount of goods through mud and ice to be first into Darkmoor with what we need.” Then Erik laughed. “He told me he’s the richest man in the world, according to his accounts, but has almost no gold left, so his only hope for recovery is to insure the Kingdom survives long enough to pay him back.”

      “An odd kind of patriotism, wouldn’t you say?”

      Erik smiled as he nodded. “If you knew Roo as well as I, you’d judge it entirely in keeping with his nature.” Pausing for a moment as if considering a second cup of coffee, Erik looked with a faint show of regret at the empty mug. After a moment of silence, he said, “I’d best get back to see what Owen wants done.”

      He departed. Dash pondered what had been said there, amidst the bustle of the kitchen, then rose to find Jimmy and see how he fared.

      The priest was just departing Jimmy’s quarters when Dash arrived.

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