‘Isalani,’ corrected Sho Pi. ‘We live in the Empire, but we are not Keshian.’
‘Whatever,’ said Biggo. ‘What he said about this being a lesson is right. That’s why we still have these on.’ He flipped the length of rope that still hung from around his neck. ‘To remind us we’re officially dead. So that whatever happens next, we know that we’re living on sufferance.’
Billy Goodwin said, ‘I don’t think they’ll have to remind me anytime soon.’ He shook his head. ‘Gods, I can’t remember what I was thinking when they kicked the box from under me. I was a baby again and waiting for my mum to come fetch me from some difficulty. I don’t think I can tell what I felt like.’
The others nodded. Erik felt tears start to gather as he remembered his own feelings as he fell. Pushing that aside, he turned to Roo. ‘How are you doing?’
Roo said nothing, only nodded as he ate.
Erik knew he was looking at something powerful changing in his friend, something was marking him and making him different from what he had known all his life in Ravensburg. He wondered if he was changing as much as his friend.
Guards arrived later to remove the trays and pitchers, and no one spoke. Soon the cells fell into darkness, and the single torch that illuminated the hall outside remained unlit.
‘I think it’s de Loungville’s way of telling us to sleep as soon as we can,’ said Biggo.
Sho Pi nodded. ‘We will get an early start on whatever it is we do tomorrow, then.’ He curled up on the stone shelf and closed his eyes.
Erik said, ‘I’m not sleeping in my own filth.’ He removed his boots and trousers, then took them to the slops bucket and did his best to shake loose the dirt there, using a bit of the drinking water to clean them as best he could. It was a gesture, nothing more, and the pants were still dirty and again wet when he put them back on, but he felt better for trying.
Some others followed his example, as Erik nodded at Roo, who sank back into a corner with his arms wrapped around him, despite the fact it wasn’t at all cold that night. But Erik knew his friend felt a chill inside that no fire would ever drive out.
Erik lay back, and to his astonishment felt a warm fatigue sink into his bones, and before he could ponder the amazing events of the day he was asleep.
‘Get up, you scum!’ shouted de Loungville, and the prisoners stirred. Suddenly the cell erupted in a cacophony of sound as guards slammed shields against the iron bars and began to shout.
‘Get up!’
‘On your feet!’
Erik was standing before he was fully awake. He looked at Roo, who blinked like an owl caught in a lantern’s light.
The door to the cell was opened and the men ordered out. They came to stand in the same order they had marched to the gibbet in, and waited without comment.
‘When I give you the command to right turn, you will all turn as one and face that door. Understand?’ The last word wasn’t a question but a harsh command.
‘Right turn!’
The men turned, feet shuffling, the shackles making any quick movement difficult. The door at the end of the cell block opened, and de Loungville said, ‘When I give the order, you will start forward, with your left foot, and you will march behind that soldier there.’ He pointed to a guardsman with the chevron of a corporal on his helm. ‘You will follow him in order, and any man who fails to keep his place will be back on the gallows within one minute. Are we clear on that?’
The men shouted, ‘Yes, Sergeant de Loungville!’
‘March!’
The first man in line, Billy Goodwin, moved out, but it was obvious that Biggo and Luis didn’t know their left from their right, and it was a ragged group that set out after the corporal. They followed through a long corridor, away from the courtyard where they had endured the false hanging the day before. They climbed a long flight of stairs and were taken into what appeared to be the palace proper. Their chains clanked as they moved quickly, and suddenly Erik was self-conscious, as they were hurried past some court officials who glanced at them and returned to whatever discussion they were having.
Erik realized he was still filthy, as were all the other five men, though Sho Pi was only in need of a bath. The rest had soiled their clothing and had infused it with the reek of terror. The bit of cleaning the night before had done nothing to rid the clothing of the stink. Usually untroubled by the smell of honest sweat, a constant companion to a blacksmith, Erik was now repulsed by the stench that intruded on his nose.
‘In there,’ said de Loungville, and Erik realized it was the first time he had spoken in a calm voice in two days.
They entered a large chamber, with six steaming tubs of water, each as high as a man. The door was closed and Erik heard it bolted from outside. Guards came and unlocked the manacles and shackles. ‘Strip off those rags!’ said the corporal.
Biggo started to remove the rope from around his neck, but de Loungville shouted, ‘Leave that there, swine! You’re dead men and that’s to remind you. Strip off the rest!’
The men removed their clothing. Erik put his boots in a corner, and watched as a serving boy gathered up the ragged, stinking clothing.
‘You’re going to meet someone very important,’ said de Loungville. ‘We can’t have you stinking the place to high heaven. I don’t mind, but I’m lowborn like you swine and have no tender ways; others aren’t so tolerant.’ He motioned, and other boys, dressed in the livery of palace squires, carried buckets of soapy water. Without warning, they lifted the hot soapy water and poured it over Biggo and Billy Goodwin, and then returned to the tubs for more. ‘Wash down!’ shouted de Loungville. ‘I want you as clean as you’ve ever been in your life!’
The men began to clean away weeks of grime, body filth, and stench. Harsh salves were brought to rub into their hair to rid them of any lice, and Erik thought he’d have no hair left, yet by the time they were done, he stood shivering but revived. He hadn’t felt this clean since the night before he and Roo had killed Stefan.
He looked at Roo, who nodded and gave a pale imitation of his former smile. He hugged himself as water dripped off the only thing he wore, the noose around his neck. He had scant body hair, and Erik was astonished how much he looked like a little boy.
Clothing was produced, plain grey tunic and trousers, and Erik was allowed to reclaim his boots, as the others with footgear were. Biggo and Billy went barefoot.
They were lined up and inspected by Robert de Loungville, who said, ‘You will be allowed to go without chains for a while; the noise and sight of them might be offputting to some of the more tender-natured of those we are about to meet. But first you will follow me.’
The corporal ordered them to return to line and they did so, falling in raggedly in the same order they had entered the bathing room.
They were marched to a small courtyard and there brought to a halt. Along the top of the wall, guards with crossbows were stationed, while every fifth man held a longbow. ‘Those fellows up there with the big bows are Pathfinders,’ said de Loungville. ‘They can hit a sparrow at a hundred yards. They’re up there to keep any of you from becoming inspired during our next little demonstration.’
He motioned and a guard handed him a sword. ‘Any one of you scum think they know how to use this?’
The prisoners looked at one another, saying nothing.
‘Do you!’ bellowed de Loungville into the face of Luis de Savona.
‘I’m a fair hand with the sword. Sergeant,’ he said softly.
De Loungville reversed the sword and handed it to de Savona. ‘Then here’s the deal. Run me through with this and you can walk out of the palace a free man.’
De Savona looked around and, after a long moment, shook his head, throwing the sword to the ground.
‘Pick that up!’ raged de Loungville. ‘I’ll tell you when to put something down! You pick up that sword and run me through with it, or I’ll have that man up there’ – he pointed to one of the Pathfinders – ‘put a clothyard shaft through your thick skull. Is that clear?’
De Savona said, ‘Either way I’m a dead man.’
De Loungville came up to the taller Rodezian and shouted into his face, ‘Do you doubt my word? I said if you killed me you would be a free man! Are you saying I would lie to you?’
When de Savona said nothing, Robert de Loungville struck him across the face. ‘Are you calling me a liar?’
Luis bent, grabbed the sword, and as he came up, he moved forward. Lunging, he abruptly found de Loungville had easily sidestepped the sword, and suddenly he was on his knees, with de Loungville behind him, the noose now pulled tightly around his neck. As he struggled for air, de Loungville said, ‘I want you all to listen.
‘Every man you meet from now on is your better. Each of them can take any weapon you have away from you like you were a baby. Each of them has proved himself a hundred times over to me, and I will grant any and all of them permission to cut your throat, strangle you, bludgeon you with a club, kick you to death, or whatever else they feel like if you so much as fart without my permission. Is that clear?’
The men mumbled something and he yelled, ‘I can’t hear you!’ De Savona was beginning to turn crimson from lack of air. ‘If he dies before I can hear you, you’ll all hang.’
‘Yes, Sergeant de Loungville!’ shouted the men, and de Loungville let go of the noose around de Savona’s neck. The Rodezian lay gasping for breath, and after a moment he got to his feet and staggered into his place in line.
‘Remember, every man you meet from now on is your better.’
He motioned for the guards to move the men out, and the corporal let them back into the palace. They moved quickly through a long passage, and abruptly they were in what appeared to be a private quarter of the palace.
They were led into a good-size chamber, one far smaller than the grand hall where the court had been conducted, and there they saw the Prince of Krondor, Duke James, the strange woman who had come to see them and who had been at their trial, and other nobles of the court.
The woman stood stiffly, as if this was a difficult place for her to be and she looked from face to face, and jerked slightly when she looked at Sho Pi. Some silent communication seemed to pass between them, and at last she turned to Lord James and the Prince and said, ‘I think they will do as you wish. May I be excused now. Sire?’
The Prince of Krondor said, ‘I can only imagine how difficult this was for you, my lady. You have my thanks. You may withdraw.’
The Duke whispered to the woman a moment and she nodded and left the hall. De Loungville said, ‘Sire, the dead men are here.’
The Prince said, ‘What you started was with my father’s knowledge and permission, Bobby. I am still trying to make sense of it all.’
James said, ‘Nicky, you’ve seen what the snakes can do with your own eyes. You were at sea when Arutha agreed to Calis and Bobby’s plan. You’d still be at sea if we hadn’t sent for you when your father died. Don’t doubt for a moment it’s necessary.’
The Prince sat, took off the circlet of office he wore, and studied the prisoners, who waited silently. After studying them for a long moment, he said, ‘Was all this really necessary?’
James said, ‘It was. Every condemned man would lie to you about his willingness to serve. They’d give up their mothers when the box was being kicked from under their feet. No, these men are the six who could be trusted the most among those condemned to die.’
Nicholas looked from face to face and said, ‘I still don’t see the need for the charade at the gallows. Certainly that was cruel beyond reason.’
De Loungville said, ‘Excuse me. Sire, but these men are now officially dead. I have made that abundantly clear to them all. They know that we can execute them at whim and they are to a man desperate to stay alive.’
‘What about the Keshian?’ asked the Prince.
James answered. ‘He’s something of a special case, but my wife feels he will be needed.’
The Prince sat back and let out a long sigh. ‘Coming to this office wasn’t easy. Borric agonized long hours about who should sit on this throne until Prince Patrick is old enough to come take my place and I can return to the sea. That’s three years of this.
‘I’m a sailor, damn it. I haven’t spent more than a month in port in twenty years. This administering …’
James smiled, the light in his eyes making him look far younger than his years. ‘You sound like Amos.’
The Prince shook his head as a faint smile graced his lips. ‘I guess I do. He taught me all there was to know about the sea.’ He looked at the men. ‘Have they been told yet?’
Robert de Loungville said, ‘That’s why they’re here, Sire.’
The Prince nodded to Lord James, who said, ‘Each of you men is being given a choice. Listen carefully, so you’ll understand what is at stake.’
Robert de Loungville said, ‘By the grace and generosity of His Highness, execution of your sentence has been postponed. You have not been pardoned, nor have you had your sentence commuted. Are you clear on this?’
The men glanced at one another, then several nodded.
James said, ‘You men will all die. The only question is how and when.’
Robert de Loungville said, ‘The Kingdom needs something done. And we need desperate men who are willing to do it. To this end we have pulled you from the brink of death and we offer you this choice:
‘Any man who is enough at peace in his conscience to face the Death Goddess can ask and we will take him from this hall to the gallows and execute him. That ends his worries in this lifetime.’
He glanced around the room and no one said anything, not even the previously pious Biggo. ‘Good. You are going to be trained for this job that needs to be done, and when we are finished we are going to sail halfway around the world, and we are going to go places few men of the Kingdom have ever gone before and lived to tell about. And while we are going and while we are there, you may bloody well wish you had elected to go to the gallows this afternoon.
‘But if we somehow get through it all and get back to Krondor …”
Nicholas said, ‘Your sentences will be reviewed and you will be paroled or pardoned, depending upon whatever recommendation Lord James makes to me.’
‘And that will depend on what recommendation is made by those who lead you,’ said James. ‘So if you have any hope in you that someday you might again be free, do as you are told.’
The Prince nodded and de Loungville said, ‘Turn around!’
The prisoners did as they were commanded, and they were marched out of the hall. Instead of being returned to the prison block, they were taken to a small courtyard where a wagon waited. It was a shallow-bed affair with a buck-board, two drivers, and two benches in back where the men could sit three to a side, with a guard at the rear. A company of horse soldiers moved in to flank the wagon, and de Loungville shouted, ‘Get in that wagon!’
The men did as commanded, and soldiers quickly chained each prisoner’s right ankle to an iron ring under the small seat. De Loungville mounted a horse brought to him by a groom and gave the order for the company to move out. The gates to the courtyard were opened, and as the wagon rolled through, Erik could see they were leaving by a gate that led to a small road. At the far end of the road they could see a private dock, which must be for the palace. They turned away from the dock and moved toward the city itself.
They reached a second gate, and guards swung this wide, letting the procession leave the palace grounds. The hooves of the horses beat a loud clang as iron struck paving stone, and the horses snorted to be outside and moving. Erik looked around. It was barely past noon. So much had passed since that first glimpse of sky at dawn.
The sun had burned off whatever morning fog and low clouds had gripped the city, and now a glorious fall day was upon them. Warm sunlight caressed his face as cool ocean breezes carried the sound of gulls and the tang of salt.
He remembered the stab of pain he had felt when he had thought he would not see the day, and the terror and panic that had gripped him as rough hands had placed him upon the gallows returned. Erik felt a choking sensation in his own chest, and suddenly, without any ability to control it, he began to weep.
Roo looked over and nodded, and tears began to run down his face, too, but no man in the wagon said anything, soldier or prisoner. After a few minutes, Erik got himself under control and he sat back, feeling the breeze cool him, and vowing to never again be that afraid.
• Chapter Nine • Breakdown
Erik groaned.
He struggled to carry the bag of rocks up the hill, his feet slipping on the treacherous mound of stone. The hill was formed by the rocks being hauled by the six prisoners up its unstable side.
Reaching the top, Erik paused, took a deep breath as sweat poured down his face, and swung the heavy bag off his shoulder. He upended it and rocks went cascading down the side of the mound, causing those behind to curse as they were forced to dodge the stones. He knew the guards would allow him a moment to catch his breath before he negotiated his way down the dangerous stone mound to continue this pointless task.
He let his vision sweep the vista below. The mound of rocks rose up in the midst of a military camp. He had never seen a soldiers’ compound, but he guessed this was unlike any other such installation in the world. A huge square, it was surrounded by wooden walls upon which sentries patrolled, as much to ensure no one approached from outside as to keep prisoners inside. A good three hundred yards of woodlands had been cleared around all sides, providing that no one could get close enough to the camp to witness what occurred inside.
In the midst of the camp were three large buildings, also fashioned from logs. Ten large tents, each designed for six men, were arrayed along the north wall of the compound. A familiar sound carried through the morning air, and Erik looked toward the southern wall, where stood an armory, leather shop, and cook shed.
‘Von Darkmoor!’ shouted a guard, and Erik realized he had lapsed into daydream. The next warning would be followed by a fowling blunt, an arrow with a hard ball of lead covered with leather that could break a man’s arm if it struck there. Usually it just knocked the hapless target from the peak of the hill, followed by a rough ride down the rocky slope. That would be followed in turn by an equally rocky berating from Robert de Loungville.
The sergeant stood a short distance away, watching as the men moved slowly up the rock pile, trying not to dislodge stones onto the men behind. He spoke softly to the corporal, whose name was Foster. They pointed at various men as they struggled to get the rocks up the hill.
Roo moved toward Erik and he puffed mightily as he said, ‘Only two or three more trips, I figure.’
The scrawny boy from Darkmoor had never been one for labor, Erik knew, but over the last week he had managed to keep up with the others. Part of it, Erik knew, was the food. None of them had ever eaten that well in their lives. And while they were roused from sleep at dawn, they turned in early enough so they were sufficiently rested.
Erik had felt his old strength return, and if anything he was even more fit than before. He and Biggo loaded up more than the others, because they could carry more, but every man pulled his share of rocks up that slope.
Erik made one more transit from the small mounds dumped by the wagon to the growing hill. When he got to the bottom, he saw Robert de Loungville wave him to stand near by. When all six prisoners were finished, standing in ragged line, de Loungville came up to them.
‘Tired?’ he asked, his face set in a friendly smile.
The men muttered they were and he nodded in understanding. ‘I bet,’ he said. ‘Could be you’re as tired as you’ve ever been in your life?’
The men muttered agreement. He rocked back and forth a little on his feet, then shouted, ‘And what do you do when your enemy hits you when you’re tired?’
Suddenly Erik was slammed into from behind, his assailant taking him down. A man in black moved away as Erik rolled over on his back, out of breath and heart pounding.
The others were likewise on the ground, save Sho Pi, who danced nimbly away as a black-clad man lay facedown in the dirt.
De Loungville said, ‘Here, now? How did you manage that?’
Sho Pi said, ‘By never for a moment assuming I’m safe, Sergeant.’
De Loungville raised his brows and, with eyes wide with respect, nodded. ‘That is an attitude I can appreciate.’ He moved with almost a saunter as he approached Sho Pi. ‘You would do well,’ he said to the others, ‘to follow this man’s example.’ Without warning he leveled a flying kick at Sho Pi’s knees, which the Isalani deftly avoided.
Suddenly the Isalani was a blur of motion as he sidestepped the smaller but solid man. He kicked out with his right leg, and tattooed de Loungville with a series of kicks to the face and chest, then he swept with his leg, coming full circle, and took de Loungville’s feet out from under him.
The men who were still on the ground laughed at the sight of their tormentor humbled, but that laughter turned to silence as two guards ran up pointing crossbows at Sho Pi, forcing him away from de Loungville.
Robert de Loungville sat up, shaking his head, and then jumped to his feet. ‘Did you think that was funny?’
None of the men spoke.
‘I said, “Did you think that was funny?”’
The men shouted, ‘No, Sergeant!’
De Loungville turned and said. ‘I’ll show you something funny.’ His voice rose to the near shriek the men had become used to over the last week. ‘That pile of rocks is in the wrong place!’
Erik bit back a groan as he knew what was coming next. ‘You will take that pile apart and move it over there.’ De Loungville pointed to a place where the wagon, now empty, stood. ‘Then when I’ve decided exactly where I want the rocks, I’ll have you move them again. Is that clear?’
Without thought Erik shouted, ‘Yes, sir!’
‘Now get started.’
Erik didn’t look to see what the others were doing. He stood, shouldered his sack, and started to the pile of rocks. He reached the edge and bent over to pick up rocks, but de Loungville’s voice cut the air. ‘From the top down, von Darkmoor! I want it moved from the top down!’
Erik winced, and without comment started the dangerous climb to the top of the rock pile. Halfway up the slope, Erik heard Billy Goodwin say, ‘I’d like one good shot at that bastard.’
From even farther down the slope, Erik heard Biggo say, ‘With your luck you’d probably kick him in the heart and break your foot.’ Erik couldn’t help but laugh, and suddenly he realized it was the first laugh he had experienced since Stefan had died. Suddenly his foot slipped and he half fell, slamming both knees into the rocks. As he winced in pain and regained his feet, he cursed the day he had first seen this camp, a week earlier.
Five miles to the east of Krondor, the wagon he had ridden in had turned south, leaving the heavily traveled road from Krondor to Darkmoor. But it wasn’t the main road southeast that headed toward the Vale of Dreams and the border with Kesh. Rather, they had followed an old wagon trail to what looked to Erik to have once been a farming village near a small lake, surrounded on three sides by sheltering hills. The Crown had obviously taken over this area, for several guard posts had been erected along the way and three times they had been forced to stop while Robert de Loungville had shown proper passes. Erik had been curious, for with all the guards riding with them, and the tabards of the Prince’s own Household Guard, the guards along the way had still appeared cautious.
The other thing that had piqued Erik’s interest had been how veteran those soldiers guarding the way to this camp had appeared. All the men had been older; not one smooth cheek in the crew, and many had borne scars. And most wore differing tabards, some the black with the golden eagle of Bas-Tyra, others the golden gull on brown of Crydee.
