Shards of a Broken Crown

Book Four of The Serpentwar Saga

Copyright

Harper Voyager

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First published in Great Britain by Voyager 1998

Copyright © Raymond E. Feist 1998

Raymond E. Feist asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

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Source ISBN: 9780006483489

Ebook Edition © SEPTEMBER 2012 ISBN: 9780007385386

Version: 2016-08-05

Dedication

To Jon and Anita Everson, who were with me from the start

Character List

ACAILA – leader of the eldar, in the Elf Queen’s court

ADELIN – elf in Elvandar

AGLARANNA – Elf Queen in Elvandar, wife of Tomas, mother of Calin and Calis

AKEE – Hidati hillman

AKIER – Lieutenant on Royal Bulldog

ALETA – young disciple in Temple of Acrh-Indar

ASHAM IBIN AL-TUK – Keshian General

AVERY, RUPERT “ROO” – merchant of Krondor

AVERY, KARLI – wife of Roo

BOYSE – Captain of Duko’s forces

BRIAN – Duke of Silden

CALHERN, THOMAS – acting Lieutenant of Palace Guard

CALIN – elf heir to the throne of Elvandar, half-brother to Calis, son of Aglaranna and King Aidan

CALIS – “The Eagle of Krondor,” special agent of the Prince of Krondor, Duke of the Court, son of Aglaranna and Tomas, half brother to Calin

CHALMES – ruling magician at Stardock

CHAPAC – twin brother of Tilac, son of Ellia

D’LYES, ROBERT – magician from Stardock

DE SAVON, LUIS – former soldier, assistant to Roo

DELWIN – constable in Krondor

DESGARDEN – swordsman in Krondor

DOKINS, KIRBY – snitch in Krondor

DOMINIC – Abbot of Ishapian Abbey at Sarth

DUGA – mercenary captain from Novindus

DUKO – General in the Emerald Queen’s Army

DUVAL, MARCEL – squire from Bas-Tyra

ELLIA – elf in Elvandar, mother of Chapac and Tilac

ENARES, MALAR – servant discovered in wilderness

ERLAND – brother to the King and uncle to Prince Patrick

FADAWAH – former general commanding the Emerald Queen’s Army, self-styled “King of the Bitter Sea”

FRANCINE “FRANCIE” – daughter of the Duke of Silden

GREYLOCK, OWEN – Knight-Marshal of the Prince’s Army

HAMMOND – Lieutenant in King’s Army

HERBERT OF RUTHERWOOD – scribe in Port Vykor

JACOBY, HELEN – widow of Randolph Jacoby, mother of Natally and Willem

JALLOM – Captain of Duko’s army

JAMESON, JAMES “JIMMY” – elder son of Arutha, grandson of James

JAMESON, DASHEL “DASH” – younger son of Arutha, grandson of James

KAHIL – Fadawah’s intelligence chief

KALEID – ruling magician at Stardock

LELAND – son of Richard of Mukerlic

LIVIA – daughter of Lord Vasarius

MACKEY – Sergeant of Palace Guard

MATAK – old soldier in Duko’s command

MILO – owner of the Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg, father of Rosalyn

MIRANDA – magician and ally of Calis and Pug

NAKOR THE ISALANI – gambler, magic-user, friend of Pug

NARDINI – Captain of captured Quegan ship

NORDAN – General in Fadawah’s army

PAHAMAN – Ranger of Natal in Elvandar

PATRICK – Prince of Krondor, son of Prince Erland, nephew to the King and Prince Nicholas

PICKNEY – clerk at Krondor

PUG – magician, Duke of Stardock, cousin to the King, grandfather to Arutha, great-grandfather to Jimmy and Dash

REESE – thief in Krondor

RICHARD – Earl of Mukerlic

RIGGERS, LYSLE – the Upright Man, leader of the Mockers

ROSALYN – Milo’s daughter, wife of Rudolph, mother of Gerd

RUDOLPH – baker in Ravensburg, husband of Rosalyn, stepfather to Gerd

RUNCOR – Captain of Duko’s army

RYANA – dragon shape-changer, friend of Tomas and Pug

SHATI, JADOW – Lieutenant in Erik’s company

SHO PI – former companion of Erik and Roo, student of Nakor

SONGTI – Captain of Duko’s army

STYLES – Captain of Royal Bulldog

SUBAI – captain of the Royal Krondorian Pathfinders

TALWIN – spy for Arutha

TILAC – twin brother of Chapac, son of Ellia

TINKER, GUSTAF – prisoner with Dash, later Constable

TOMAS – Warleader of Elvandar, husband of Aglaranna, father of Calis, inheritor of the powers of Ashen-Shugar

TRINA – female thief, Daymaster of the Mockers

TUPPIN, JOHN – thief with lumpy face, leader of Krondor’s “bashers”

VASARIUS – Quegan noble and merchant

VON DARKMOOR, MATHILDA – Baroness of Darkmoor, grandmother to Gerd

VON DARKMOOR, GERD – Baron of Darkmoor, son of Rosalyn and Stefan von Darkmoor, nephew to Erik

VON DARKMOOR, ERIK – Captain of the Crimson Eagles

WENDELL – Captain in Krondor

WIGGINS – Patrick’s Master of Ceremony

WILKES – soldier in Erik’s army

ZALTAIS – ?

Book Four

The Brothers’ Tale

Duty cannot exist without faith.

– Benjamin Disraeli

Earl of Beaconsfield

TANCRED, BK. II, CH. 1

• Prologue •

THE GENERAL KNOCKED.

“Enter,” said the self-styled King of the Bitter Sea as he looked up from a hastily scribbled note just handed him by his Captain of Intelligence, Kahil.

General Nordan entered and shook off the snow from his cloak. “You found us a cold land to rule, Majesty,” he said with a smile. He gave Kahil the briefest nod of greeting.

Fadawah, former Commanding General of the Army of the Emerald Queen, now ruler of the City of Ylith and the surrounding countryside, said, “At least it’s a cold land with food and firewood.” He waved in a vague fashion to the south. “We’re still getting stragglers in from as far away as Darkmoor who paint a bleak picture about conditions throughout the Western Realm.”

Nordan motioned to a chair and Fadawah nodded. While old companions, they observed the formalities, as Fadawah prepared to launch his spring campaign. The General still wore the ritual scars on his cheeks, marks given him when swearing loyalty to the Pantathians. He had considered attempting to find a witch or healing priest who could remove them, for when he had finally realized that the Pantathians were as much dupes as he was, he had killed their remaining high priest. As far as Fadawah was concerned, he was no longer bound to anyone. He was his own man, and he was in a rich land with an army. But Kahil had reminded him the scars were intimidating and kept the men in awe of him. Kahil had served the Emerald Queen before she had been destroyed by the demon, but he had proven a valuable and trusted advisor since the change in leadership of the invading army.

By last count over thirty thousand men had found their way into the south end of the province of Yabon. He had organized them, stationed them, and now controlled all the lands from Ylith south past Quester’s View, north to the outskirts of Zun, west to the city of Natal, which was now occupied by more of his own men than their own pitiful defenses. He had also captured Hawk’s Hollow, a small town, but one giving him control of a vital pass through the mountains to the east.

“Some of the men don’t like the idea of staying,” said Nordan. The stocky soldier rubbed his bearded chin, and cleared his throat. “They’re talking of finding a ship and going back across the sea.”

“To what?” asked Fadawah. “To a land burned out and overrun by barbarians from the grasslands? Besides the dwarven stronghold in the Ratn’gari Mountains and some surviving Jehsandi in the North, what is there left of civilization? Did we leave a city standing? Is there anything there to support us?” Fadawah scratched his head. He wore a single long fall of hair and shaved the rest of his head, another sign of his devotion to the Emerald Queen’s dark powers. “Tell any of the men who are talking this way that come spring, if they can find a ship and take it, they’re free to leave.” He looked off into space, as if seeing something in the air. “I want no one here who isn’t ready to serve me. We’re going to have a serious fight on our hands.”

“The Kingdom?”

Fadawah said, “You don’t think they’re going to sit idly by and not attempt to regain their lands, do you?”

“No, but they were terribly mauled at Krondor and Darkmoor. The prisoners tell us they don’t have much of an army left to put in the field.”

Fadawah said, “If they don’t bring their Army of the East over from Darkmoor, true. But if they do, we need to be ready.”

“Well,” said Nordan, “we won’t know until spring.”

“That’s only another three months,” said Fadawah. “We need to be prepared.”

“You have a plan?”

“Always,” said the wily old general. “I don’t want a two-front war if I can help it. If I was stupid, I could find myself in a four-front war.” He indicated a map on the wall of the room. They were currently occupying the estate house of the Earl of Ylith, dead by all reports along with the Duke of Yabon and the Earl of LaMut. “If our information is right, we face a boy up in LaMut.” He rubbed his chin. “We need to take LaMut as soon as the spring thaw begins, and I want Yabon in our grasp by midsummer.” He smiled. “Send a message to the leader in Natal …” He turned to Kahil. “What’s his title?”

“The First Councilor,” supplied his Captain of Intelligence.

“Send the First Councilor our thanks for his hospitality in providing billets for our men this winter, and send him some gold. A thousand pieces should do.”

“A thousand?” asked Nordan.

“We have it. And we’ll get more. Then withdraw our men and bring them here.” He looked at his old friend. “That will at least keep the First Councilor on our good side until we return to Natal, take and keep it.”

He pointed to the map. “I want Duko and his men down in Krondor by then.”

Nordan raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Fadawah said, “Duko makes me uneasy. He’s an ambitious man.” He frowned. “It was only chance that put you and me first and second on the Pantathian’s roles, else we could be taking orders from Duko.”

Nordan nodded. “But he’s a good leader, and he’s always obeyed without question.”

“That he is, which is why I want him at the front. I want you down behind him, in Sarth.”

“But why Krondor?” Nordan shook his head. “There’s nothing there.”

“But there will be,” said Fadawah. “That’s their Western Capital, their Prince’s City, and they will move back there as quickly as they can.” He nodded to himself. “If Duko can keep them busy until we seize all of Yabon, then we can tum our sights on the Free Cities, this Far Coast region.” He pointed to the western coast of the Kingdom. “We’ll reoccupy Krondor and move back toward the old battle line. What’s that place?”

“Nightmare Ridge.”

“Well named.” Fadawah sighed. “I’m not a greedy man. Being King of the Bitter Sea is enough. We’ll let the Kingdom of the Isles keep their Darkmoor and the lands to the east.” Then he smiled. “For now.”

“But first we must retake Krondor.”

Fadawah said, “No, first we must make them think we want to retake Krondor. These Kingdom nobles are not stupid, they are not self-consumed like those of our homeland.” He remembered how shocked the Priest-King of Lananda had been when Fadawah and his army had refused to heed his order to leave his city. “These are smart men, duty-bound men; they will come at us, and they will come hard. We must expect that.

“No, let them think Krondor is the prize, and when they realize we are firm in Yabon, perhaps they will negotiate, or perhaps not, but either way, once we have control of Yabon, we are here for good. Let Duko get punished lest he become ambitious.”

Nordan stood. “If you permit, I’ll tell the men those who wish to leave in the spring may.”

Fadawah waved his permission.

“Majesty,” said Nordan, leaving Fadawah alone with Kahil.

To Kahil, Fadawah said, “Wait, then follow Nordan and see who he speaks with. Mark the men who are the leaders of these dissidents. They will have accidents before the thaw, and then we can put to rest this nonsense about returning to Novindus.”

“Of course, Majesty,” said the Captain of Intelligence. “And I applaud your design in putting Nordan down in Sarth.”

Fadawah said, “Design?”

Kahil leaned over, putting his arm around Fadawah’s shoulder, and he whispered, “Put all your disloyal commanders to the south, to insure that when the enemy exacts their price for our conquest, those we can most afford to lose pay it.”

Fadawah’s eyes became unfocused, as if he was listening to something in the distance. “Yes, that is wise.”

Kahil said, “You need to surround yourself with those who can be trusted, those who are loyal beyond a doubt. You need to return the Immortals to a place of prominence.”

“No!” said Fadawah. “Those madmen served dark powers—”

Kahil interrupted. “Not dark powers, Majesty, but vast powers. Powers that can insure your rule not only in Yabon, but in Krondor, too.”

“Krondor?” asked Fadawah.

Kahil clapped his hands twice, and the door swung open. Two warriors, each with ritual scars on his cheeks that matched Fadawah’s, entered, and Kahil said, “Guard the King with your lives.”

Fadawah repeated, “Krondor.”

Kahil rose and departed, closing the door behind him. A faint smile passed across his face before he turned and left upon his next task, following Nordan and marking those men for death who displayed even the smallest hint of disloyalty.

Fadawah looked at the two soldiers and motioned for them to stand away from him. The scars on their faces reminded him of the dark and distant time he was caught up in the magic of the Emerald Queen and the lost months when the demon had ruled her army. He hated feeling used and would kill anyone who again attempted to use him as the Emerald Queen had.

He moved to the map on the wall and began to plan his spring campaign.

• Chapter One • Winter

THE WIND HAD died.

Dash waited. The frigid bite of the air still brought tears to his eyes as he scanned the road below. The reconstruction of Darkmoor had been tedious, slowed by continuous snows and rain, as the winter proved a fickle one. If slippery ice wasn’t making footing treacherous for those workmen attempting to rebuild the walls around the western portion of the city, then knee-deep mud stalled wagons carrying needed supplies.

Now it was icy again, but at least Dash was thankful there was currently no snow. The sky was clear, the late afternoon sun hinting at warmth that wasn’t really there. Dash knew it was his mood as much as the weather, but this particular winter seemed to have lasted longer than any in his young life.

The sounds of the city carried through the still, icy air as the day wound down. With luck the new gate would be finished before sunset, and an extra modicum of security would be added to the sum of things that needed to be done yesterday.

Dash was tired, fatigued beyond anything he could remember in his twenty years of life. Part of it was from the seemingly endless list of things that needed attention, and the rest was from worry; his brother Jimmy was overdue.

Jimmy was acting the part of exploring officer, a scout behind enemy lines. Prince Patrick of Krondor had decided to move hard and fast against a threat of Keshian expansion into the southern flank of the Kingdom in the spring. That meant that the retaking of lands lost during the invasion the previous summer would be left to Owen Greylock, Knight-Marshal of Krondor, and Erik von Darkmoor, Knight-Captain of the Crimson Eagles, an elite mobile force of handpicked men.

Which had meant the Prince needed information on what the invaders were doing between Darkmoor and Krondor. And Jimmy had volunteered to go see what was going on.

He was now three days overdue.

Dash had come to the edge of the patrolled area, a series of burned-out walls that marked the western edge of the foulbourgh of Darkmoor. The Prince’s army in the city insured that there was little danger within a day’s ride of the city, but these partial walls and piles of tumbled masonry provided ample cover for ambush and had been refuge to more than one band of scavengers or outlaws.

Dash scanned the horizon, watching for his brother. The sounds of the winter woodlands below were few and infrequent. An occasional rustle as snow fell from tree branches, or the crack of ice some miles away as the thaw began. A bird call or the rustle of some animal in the brush. Sound carried for miles in the winter cold.

Then Dash heard something. A faint sound, coming from far away. It wasn’t the sound of hooves striking hard dirt and rock Dash had hoped to hear. Rather it was the rolling crunch of ice underfoot. And whoever made the sound was coming toward him with a methodical step, even and unhurried.

Dash flexed his gloved fingers and slowly pulled his sword from his scabbard. If the previous conflict had taught him nothing else, it was to always be ready. There were no safe positions outside the fortress that was the city of Darkmoor.

In the distance he detected motion, and he focused on it. A single figure trudged along the road. He was moving at a plodding walk, and as Dash watched, he hurried to a slow trot. Dash knew he was walking one hundred paces, then trotting one hundred paces, a practice drilled into Dash and his brother by their arms teachers as boys. For a man without a mount it could cover almost as much distance as a horse could in a day, more over the course of weeks.

Dash watched. The figure resolved itself into a man wrapped, in a heavy grey cloak; clothing designed to make it difficult to see the wearer from any distance in the gloom of winter. Only on the bright days when the sky was clear would the wearer be easy to spot.

As the man on foot came closer, Dash saw he was without a hat, but had his head covered in a thick cloth, a scarf or torn remnant of another piece of clothing. He carried a sword at his side, and his hands were clad in mismatching gloves. His boots were filthy with mud and ice.

The crunching of snow under his tread became louder by the moment, until he stood before Dash. He stopped and looked up, and at last he said, “You’re in my way.”

Dash moved his mount aside and swung the horse’s head around toward Darkmoor. He put his sword away, urged the animal forward and walked beside the man on foot. “Lose your horse?” he asked.