Krondor: Tear of the Gods

With cold anger, William replied, ‘I’ll have his heart, Captain. I swear I will.’

Garruth said, ‘Well, now’s your chance, lad. They’ve got us pinned down, but maybe the two of you can creep back down the way you came and circle behind the jail.’

‘Where’s the sheriff?’ asked James.

Garruth inclined his head towards the jail. ‘In there, I expect. I was due to meet with him when everything went to hell.’

James shook his head. He had little affection for Sheriff Wilfred Means, but he was a good and loyal servant of the Prince and his son Jonathan was one of James’s agents. He would discover if the younger Means was still alive later, he supposed.

‘If the sheriff and his men were inside when the bastards blew up the jail, we won’t see help here from the palace for another ten or fifteen minutes,’ said James.

Garruth said, ‘Aye, and that gives them time for whatever bloody work they’ve got in mind. Never seen anyone try to break into a jail before, so there must be something in there they want.’

James said, ‘No, there’s someone they want.’

William said, ‘You think Lucas went to the jail?’

‘Maybe,’ said James. ‘But we won’t know until we get inside.’

Garruth said, ‘You’d best leave the woman here until the palace guards arrive.’

Jazhara said, in a dry tone, ‘I appreciate your concern, but I can handle myself.’

The captain shrugged. ‘As you will.’

They crouched low and returned the way they had come, until they reached the big intersection, safely out of firing range of the jail. All three stood and began to run.

They quickly reached the rear wall of the jail, in which another gaping hole could be seen. ‘The second explosion?’ asked William.

‘The first,’ said Jazhara. ‘They blew this one out to catch men eating and sleeping there’ – she pointed through the hole to a table and overturned bunks – ‘then when those in the front of the jail ran back to aid their comrades, they set off the explosion on the other side, through which they almost certainly attacked, catching whoever was inside from the rear.’

James said, ‘We’ll not find the answer out here.’

He ducked low and ran towards the hole leading into the guardroom, expecting a volley of arrows at any moment. Instead he found only two men looting the corpses on the ground. One died before he could draw his sword and the other turned on James, only to be struck from behind by William. James held up his hand for silence.

From the entrance come the sound of arrows and quarrels being fired, but all was still in the guardroom. James motioned for William to take the left side of the door into the front room, and for Jazhara to stand a few feet behind James. Then he moved to the partially opened door. He glanced through. A half-dozen men, four with bows and two with crossbows, were spread in flank formation, patiently shooting at anything that moved outside the hole in the wall. It was clear they were merely holding Garruth and his men at bay so someone inside could accomplish his mission.

James glanced at William and Jazhara, and then towards an opening in the floor with stone stairs leading down to the underground cells. He knew there was a staircase in the front room leading to offices and the sheriff’s apartment above. Which way had the big man gone? Up or down? James decided that either way they’d need Garruth and his half-dozen guardsmen to deal with the big man and his crew. So the six bowmen ahead must first be neutralized.

James held up three fingers, and Jazhara shook her head emphatically. She tapped her chest, indicating that she wished to make the first move. James glanced at William, who shrugged, so he looked back at Jazhara and nodded.

She stepped forward, raising her right hand high above her head, while grasping her staff in the left. Again the hair on James’s arms stood on end as magic was gathered. A golden light enveloped the woman, accompanied by a faint sizzling sound, then the light coalesced into a sphere in the palm of her hand. She threw it as if it was a large ball and it arced into the room, landing between the centre pair of bowmen. Instantly they dropped their weapons and twitched in wild spasms. The two next to them on either side were also afflicted, but held on to their weapons and managed to regain control of their movements almost immediately. The two crossbowmen – one of either side of the flank – were unaffected. Fortunately for William, the man he charged had just fired a bolt and was moving to reload his weapon.

The other man turned and fired wildly, the bolt striking the wall high above James’s head. Suddenly the balance shifted. The archers dropped their bows and drew daggers, for the projectile weapons were useless at close range. James had one man wounded and down before his neighbour had freed his dagger from his belt. William’s large sword was menacing enough that one of the mercenaries threw down his crossbow and attempted to leap over the desk and dash through the gaping hole in the wall.

Seeing the man attempting to flee from within, Captain Garruth and his men sprang forward and the man was down in moments. Inside, the others threw up their hands and knelt, the mercenary’s universal sign of surrender.

Garruth indicated that two of his six men were to guard the prisoners. To James he said, ‘There are more of them than these six. I’ll take my men to the basement, if you three will check upstairs.’

James nodded. ‘Who’s supposed to be up there?’

‘Just the lads sleeping until their mid-watch shift, and a scribe named Dennison. The sheriff and his men sleep up there.’ Glancing at the hacked bodies, he said, ‘I doubt any of them are alive.’ He scratched his beard. ‘It was a perfect raid. They knew exactly when to hit. The company was at its lowest complement and least able to defend itself, and reinforcements were unlikely to get here quickly.’ He started towards the stairs leading down to the cells, and two of his men followed cautiously.

James motioned to William and Jazhara to accompany him and they made their way to the stairs leading to the upper floor of the jail. As they reached the steps, they ducked reflexively as another explosion came from above.

While smoke and stone dust poured down the steps, Captain Garruth shouted, ‘He’s heading for the North Gate!’

James didn’t hesitate. ‘Come on!’ he bellowed, and ran through the gaping hole just a few feet away.

Looking down the crowded street leading to the North Gate, James could see the head and shoulders of a large man towering above the throng, shoving his way through the curious onlookers who had gathered to see what the commotion at the jail was. James, William, and Jazhara raced after him.

As they neared the crowd, James glanced back and saw that Garruth’s men were engaged in a struggle with about a half-dozen mercenaries. To William and Jazhara, he shouted, ‘We’re on our own!’

People who had been shoved aside by the big man found themselves being pushed aside once more, this time by James and his companions. ‘Out of the way! Prince’s business!’ he shouted.

In the din of voices he could barely be heard and finally James let William, who was stockier and stronger than James, take the lead. People jumped aside as they recognized the garb of the prince’s personal household guards, when he bellowed, ‘Stand aside in the name of the Prince!’

Still, precious moments had been lost, and the big man was out of sight. As they neared the intersection with the road that emptied out through the North Gate, another mighty explosion could be heard, followed instantly by screams and shouts.

They reached the corner and saw a large, two-storey building in flames. Smoke billowed from the lower windows as flames climbed the outside wall.

‘Gods,’ said James. ‘He’s fired the orphanage.’

From the main door four women and a man were ushering out children, many of whom looked stunned and disoriented, coughing from the heavy smoke. James ran to the door.

The man turned, saw William’s garb and shouted, ‘Someone’s burned the orphanage! They threw a bomb through that window.’ He pointed with a shaking finger. ‘Flames erupted and we barely got out alive.’

Jazhara said, ‘Are all the children out?’

A scream from upstairs answered her.

The man coughed and said, ‘I tried to go upstairs, but the fire near the stairs is too intense.’

‘How many are up there?’ asked William.

‘Three,’ said one of the women, who was crying. ‘I called the children for supper, but they were taking their time coming down …’

‘I may be able to help,’ said Jazhara.

‘How?’ asked James.

‘I have a spell which will protect you from the heat unless you touch the flame itself. But it lasts only a short time.’

The man said, ‘Then weave it quickly, woman. Their lives are at stake.’

William started to strip off his armour, but James said, ‘No, I’m faster than you.’ He also had no armour to doff. He handed his sword to William and said, ‘Ready.’

Jazhara said, ‘The spell will protect you from the heat, but you must be careful not to breathe the smoke too deeply as it will kill as fast as a flame.’ She pulled a handkerchief from the hands of one of the nearby women and handed it to James. ‘Hold this over your mouth and nose.’

She closed her eyes, putting her right hand on James’s arm and the back of her left hand to her forehead. She made a short incantation and finally said, ‘There. It is done. Now hurry, for it will last but a short time’

James said, ‘I didn’t feel anything.’

‘It’s done,’ she repeated.

‘I usually feel magic when it’s—’

‘Go!’ she said, pushing him towards the door. ‘Time is short!’

‘But—’

‘Go!’ she repeated with a strong push.

James tumbled head-first through the door, and ducked at the sight of flames licking the ceiling above. To his surprise, he felt no heat.

The smoke, however, caused his eyes to water and he blinked furiously to clear them. He wished he had thought to wet the cloth he held over his nose and mouth. He made for a stairway, following a serpentine route around flaming tables and burning tapestries.

He quickly reached the top of the stairs and did not have to ask if the children were still alive. Three tiny voices split the air with their screams and coughs. James shouted, ‘Stay where you are, children! I’m coming to get you!’

He hurried towards the shouts at the other end of the room, a barracks of sorts where the children obviously slept. Bedding was smouldering and flames climbed the walls, but he found a straight path to the children.

Two boys and a girl huddled in the corner, terrified to the point of immobility. James quickly decided that trying to guide them through the flames was pointless. The older of the two boys appeared to be about seven or eight years of age. The other boy and girl he guessed as being closer to four.

He knelt and said, ‘Come here.’

The children stood up and he gathered the two smaller children up, one under each arm, then said to the older boy, ‘Climb on my back!’

The boy did, clamping his arm over James’s throat. James put down the other two children, almost gagging. ‘Not so hard!’ he said, prying the boy’s arm from across his windpipe. ‘Here,’ he said, placing the boy’s arms across his chest. ‘Like this!’

Then he scooped up the other children and hurried back to the stairs. He moved quickly down the steps and saw the flames had closed around the landing. ‘Damn!’ he muttered.

There was nothing for it but to run. He leapt as far as he could through the flames and instantly understood Jazhara’s warning. The heat itself hadn’t been noticeable, but the second the flames touched him he could certainly feel it. ‘Oooh!’ he shouted, as he landed in a relatively clear patch of wooden floor, while the planks on all sides smouldered and burned.

The roof above was making alarming sounds, creaks and groans, that told James the support timbers were weakening. Soon the upper floor would collapse on him and the children if he didn’t move. The smoke was making the children cough and James’s eyes were tearing to the point of being unable to see through the smoke. Taking in a lungful that caused him to cough, he shouted, ‘Jazhara! William!’

William’s booming voice answered from slightly to his left. ‘This way!’

James didn’t hesitate. He leapt forward, trying as well as he could to avoid the flames, but by the time he came spilling out the door with a child under each arm and one across his back, he was burned on both legs and arms. The children were crying from their burns, but they were alive. He collapsed onto the cobblestones, coughing.

Two women took charge of the burned and frightened children, while Jazhara knelt and examined James’s burns. ‘Not serious,’ she judged.

James looked at her through watering eyes and said, ‘Easy for you to say. They hurt like the blazes!’

Jazhara took a small jar out of her belt pouch and said, ‘This will make them stop hurting until we can get you to a healer or priest.’

She applied a salve gently to the burns and, true to her words, the pain vanished. James said, ‘What is that?’

‘It is made from a desert plant found in the Jal-Pur. My people use this salve on burns and cuts. It will keep wounds from festering for a while, enabling them to heal.’

James stood up and looked towards the gate. ‘He’s got away?’

William said, ‘I expect so. Look.’ He pointed to the other side of the street where members of the city watch were moving citizens back from the fire so that a chain of men with buckets could start wetting down the nearby buildings. It was clear that the orphanage was doomed, but the rest of the quarter might be saved. William sounded defeated. ‘Those men are from the gate watch, so I suspect the murderer got out of the city just by walking through.’

Jazhara said, ‘What sort of monster would set fire to an orphanage to create a diversion?’

James said, ‘The same sort who would break into a jail at sunset.’ He coughed one more time, then said, ‘Let’s go back and see if we can find out who he was after.’ He started walking back towards the jail.

Soldiers from the palace had arrived to augment the surviving city guards at the jail. James had just learned that Sheriff Wilfred Means and all but six of his men had been killed. The sheriff’s son, Jonathan, stood in the main room surveying the damage. James had recently recruited the young man to work secretly for him in the Prince’s burgeoning intelligence network. The squire put his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder and said, ‘I’m sorry for your loss. Your father and I were never what could be called friends, but I respected him as an honest man who was unstinting in his loyalty and duty.’

Jonathan looked pale and could only nod. Finally he controlled his emotions and said, ‘Thank you.’

James nodded. ‘For the time being, you and the other deputies report to Captain Garruth. Arutha will need time to name a new sheriff and you’ll be undermanned for a while.’

Jonathan said, ‘I need to go home if that’s all right. I must tell my mother.’

James said, ‘Yes, of course. Go to your mother,’ and sent the young man on his way. Jonathan was an able man, despite his youth, but he doubted Arutha would willingly elevate him to his father’s office. Besides, having Jonathan tied to a desk wouldn’t help James’s plans. He put aside those thoughts and went looking for Garruth.

The captain was directing workers and soldiers as they started making repairs on the jail. ‘Didn’t catch him?’ he said when he saw James and the others.

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