Jimmy and the Crawler

He turned to leave, then paused. ‘You three did well–very well, actually–with that situation up the coast, so I’m inclined to grant you latitude if you think you need it.’ Pointing his finger at James, he added, ‘As long as you don’t get yourself killed.’

James noticed he avoided mentioning the Tear of the Gods directly.

Arutha continued, ‘I think it’s time to put the three of you back together. Willy, I’ll inform Duke Gardan you’re on detached duties for a while, so you’d best go do whatever you need to do until James is well enough to wreak havoc in your life. Jazhara, do your best to keep the boys out of trouble, please?’

She couldn’t hide her smile as the prince departed for his private apartment.

‘Great,’ said James, lying back on the pile of pillows. ‘A magic healing draught.’

Jazhara smiled. ‘I know little about clerical magic: the temples are very guarded about their craft.’

James shifted a little, trying not to groan or wince as he sought a slightly more comfortable position. ‘They have their secrets, it’s true. Some of the temples are downright hostile if you intrude into what they see as their territory, but I’ve come across a few clerics who are decent company on a long ride. I think the prince is trying to make a point, as if suffering these injuries isn’t enough of a reminder of the danger of some of my choices …’ his voice rose a little in annoyance, ‘. . . so I need to choke down a foul concoction to drive the point home.’

‘The point being?’ asked Jazhara.

‘To be more bloody careful in the future,’ said James with a wince. He sighed a little dramatically. ‘It’s not like the prince can’t afford the magic. He just wants me to suffer.’

William couldn’t help himself from bursting out laughing, which brought a black look from James. ‘Some of the temples have magic that will heal you up and leave no scar, even yank you back from the verge of death.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Some are rumoured to be able to yank you back from the other side of the verge, if the gold is right. There are stories of wealthy men who have made generous contributions to the temple of Sung the Pure, and they have mysteriously returned to health and vigour after a terrible illness or otherwise mortal wounds in battle.’

William smiled, knowing that James was embellishing his tale for dramatic effect. ‘Then why,’ he asked, feigning ignorance, ‘didn’t His Highness simply ask a priest to pop over in the first place and wave away your wounds, rather than putting good Chirurgeon Reynolds through such toil?’

‘To save gold,’ said James with a straight face. ‘Our master is a thrifty man, Willy. And he has an evil sense of humour. The healing draught is the most foul-smelling concoction known to man, and this from a fellow who grew up living in the sewers!’

Jazhara put her hand over her mouth and tried not to laugh, but failed. ‘I thought you said he was making a point.’

‘Well, that too,’ replied James.

‘Really? You’re serious? To save gold?’

‘Really,’ said James. ‘Now, you two go off and let me sleep until the good father arrives. Even with the draught I’ll be useless unless I get a good night’s sleep.’

William and Jazhara glanced at one another and then made to leave. At the door William turned. ‘If you need anything—’

James was already fast asleep.

‘How do you feel this morning?’

‘I might be a fair match for a three-day-old kitten, Willy,’ said James, his eyes surrounded by dark circles.

Jazhara made a face and William said, ‘What?’

‘Only James here and the prince call you “Willy”.’

‘It’s the boys,’ said James. ‘Borric and Erland grew up calling him “Cousin Willy”, and Squire Locklear and I picked it up.’

‘No one else,’ said William. He shrugged as if it was of no importance.

‘I find it less than respectful. “Willy” sounds like a kitchen knave’s name!’ She shook her head slightly. ‘You will never hear me call you that.’

James laughed, then winced. He moved his arm on his injured side as if trying to stretch out the muscle.

‘Did the healing draught not work as intended?’ asked Jazhara.

James stifled a yawn. ‘My side is fair, if a bit tender to the touch, but otherwise as good as new. No, it’s the other effect of the draught … suffice to say I was back and forth to the garderobe many times last night. Sleep came in bits less than an hour long.’ Finally the yawn escaped. ‘Sorry,’ he said, covering his mouth with his hand. ‘A good night’s sleep and I’ll be fine.’

‘Then you’ll get one tonight,’ said a voice from behind. The three turned to see Prince Arutha entering the office from the door that led to the royal family’s apartment. He waved them to sit down as he pulled out the chair from behind his own desk. ‘I have been reconsidering reports from various sources around the Western Realm, and I think we may have discovered a thing or two …’ He raised his eyes to James and added, ‘. . . despite your incapacity. We do manage to muddle along without you.’

James could feel his colour rising while Jazhara and William worked hard to contain their amusement. James was not shy about voicing his opinions on how the business of the Western Realm was conducted, most of which was far outside his area of responsibility or expertise. Yet Arutha indulged him more often than not, and both knew to some degree it was due to the affection in which he held his squire, as well as the fact that James had proved his value well and often. His life had hung in the balance more than once, and he had been an effective agent for the Kingdom since coming to Krondor. Moreover, James possessed a uniquely keen intelligence. Arutha was grooming him for greater responsibility in the future.

The prince was silent for a moment, framing his next remark. James was used to these silences: Arutha was always precise in what he chose to say. Finally the prince said, ‘James, I’m releasing you from your office. Find another lad to do those things you leave for other lads to do, anyway. I’m giving up on the notion that you’re anyone’s idea of a squire. You’ll have a new letter of marque tomorrow. You’re a knight of the court as of this morning.’

He turned to William. ‘I’ve already told Gardan I’m going to need you away from the garrison, so you’ll be holding your rank of lieutenant in the royal household guard, but reporting directly to me only. Is that understood?’

Unable to hide his surprise, William replied, ‘Yes, Highness.’

‘You three work well together, and I think I’m going to need your full combined attention on this Crawler business. So, beginning tomorrow, your task is to discover this miscreant’s identity and bring him to justice. Everything else is secondary. Understood?’

All three of them nodded. ‘Good,’ said Arutha. ‘James, go get some sleep.’

James hesitated, then realizing he was dismissed, stood and said, ‘Thank you, Highness.’

‘Don’t thank me yet, Jimmy,’ said Arutha. ‘With greater rank comes greater responsibility.’ As James turned, Arutha added, ‘And more chances to get yourself killed.’

James hesitated for a bare moment, then continued out of the door.

Arutha looked from Jazhara to William and back. ‘I don’t know what went on between you at Stardock and I prefer to keep it that way. I don’t intrude into the lives of my court officers unless their behaviour reflects poorly on my court, or hampers their service. I expect you both to deal with whatever difficulties may lie between you.’ He sat back, steepling his fingers. ‘James is a young man of prodigious talent, and he has ambition. If I don’t keep him on a short leash he’ll get himself killed, but too short a leash makes him ineffective; so you two will be my leash when you’re gone from the city.’

‘Gone, Highness?’ asked William.

‘It is almost certain, given what we already know, that you three will soon be on your way to Kesh.’

Jazhara nodded. ‘Since the night of my arrival, much of what I have seen involving criminal activity in Krondor has involved Keshians.’

‘Not all your countrymen in my city can be your great uncle’s agents, Jazhara.’ Then Arutha revealed one of his rare smiles. ‘Though on occasion I’m inclined to think they all may be. Abdur may be the cleverest man I’ve ever encountered.’ He stood up, and they rose a moment after. ‘I must return to my other duties. You two keep a close watch on James. He may end up running this nation some day, and I suspect he’ll do a masterful job, so don’t let him get killed before that. Understood?’

Then without another word, he turned and left them standing in his office.

They exchanged glances and then, silently, departed.

Jazhara waited until they were halfway between the prince’s private rooms and the great hall before she said, ‘What is it he has heard?’

William shrugged. ‘Gossip, no doubt. His Highness keeps a close watch on everything. Rarely is anything undertaken in Krondor or the principality without his being aware of it. Your arrival was anticipated by many, for you are a novelty.’ He studied her face, one he knew in every detail from their short-lived romance.

Being a few years older than William, Jazhara had still been young enough not to understand the difference between their feelings for one another until it was too late. She loved him after a fashion, and had enjoyed the intimacy while it had lasted, but he had been completely overtaken by a deep and abiding love. Their break-up had been bitter and he, being young, had not handled it well.

That had been one of the many reasons why William had decided to leave Stardock and take service with Arutha. The other reasons involved disputes with his father over his role in the Academy. William had what could only be described as a ‘magical gift’: the ability to hear what animals were thinking. His father had assumed that meant William would take up magic as his calling, but other than the one odd ability, he felt no calling for, nor displayed much talent in, other areas of magic. He wished to be a soldier, a dream of his since childhood, and on several occasions after his fourteenth birthday his mother had had to end a heated exchange between William and Pug.

William stopped and Jazhara turned a half-step later and said, ‘What is it?’

William paused, framing his thoughts. ‘It doesn’t have to be difficult. We’ve already weathered one … adventure,’ he said with a pained grin, ‘and no doubt we’ll face other challenges for the prince. It seems Arutha is putting us in Squire James’s–excuse me, Sir James’s–charge, and we both know that means a lot more danger and a lot less comfort.’

Jazhara nodded. ‘James does attract trouble.’

‘Attract? No, he’s rather keen to ferret it out,’ corrected William. ‘That’s why Arutha treasures him so much.’ He glanced around. ‘James expects to be running this castle some day, and I expect he probably will. But what I mean is, we don’t have to make this any more difficult than it already is. That’s what I think the prince was hinting at.’

‘His Highness doesn’t strike me as the type of man to hint, William.’

‘Mostly you’re right,’ said William. He walked on. ‘But sometimes he lets the other person puzzle things out for himself—’ he inclined his head, ‘—or herself, because it makes the message much more … personal, I guess.’

‘So what you’re saying is, you’re willing to put the past behind us?’

William stopped in mid-stride as if to think about the question, then started walking again. ‘I’m never going to forget anything, Jazhara,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m just not going to let it get in my way, is all.’

‘I can accept that,’ she said, studying his face.

‘What?’ he asked after a moment.

‘Nothing,’ she said with a half-smile. ‘It’s just … you’ve grown up since Stardock.’

‘Being around James ages you … rapidly.’

She laughed and they let silence overtake them.

The next morning James, William, and Jazhara were summoned to Prince Arutha’s private apartment as he was finishing his morning meal with his wife and children. The twins jumped down from the table and ran over, shouting, ‘Uncle Jimmy! Cousin Willy!’ and hugged both in turn. They were polite in greeting Jazhara, as she was relatively new to the court and hadn’t achieved ‘auntie’ status just yet. Baby Elena grinned and laughed at the sight of the two ‘uncles’, then shrieked delightedly.

Princess Anita took a moment to greet both young men, who bowed; and Jazhara, who curtseyed despite wearing trousers instead of a skirt. ‘It’s good to see you again, boys, and you as well, Jazhara.’ She squeezed the young woman’s hands. ‘You must find time to visit us so that we can get to know each other better.’

Suddenly a yelp of anger and a wailing cry announced that the boys were getting into one of their usual scuffles. Both Arutha and Anita hurried to take care of the baby and herd the boys into the next room.

Jazhara looked at James and saw an almost rapt expression on his face. She smiled.

William said, ‘Nothing like my family back in Stardock, is it?’

Jazhara shook her head. ‘Nothing like mine either.’

James chuckled. ‘This is the only family I’ve ever known. If I ever do wed, I’m going to try to be as much like them as I can.’

Arutha returned, closing the door behind him. With a rueful smile, he said, ‘I wonder sometimes how my father coped with my brother and me when we were young.’

James grinned. ‘I believe I’ve heard parenthood described as “nature’s revenge”, Highness.’

Arutha laughed briefly, then nodded. ‘Well put.’ He motioned for them to follow him through another door into his personal study. He sat down behind his desk. ‘Very well, where do we start?’

Without hesitation, James answered, ‘Kesh. Specifically, Durbin. We don’t actually start there, but I’m certain that’s where we’ll end up.’

‘Elucidate.’

William and Jazhara both looked on with interest: they had arrived at a similar conclusion, having discussed it over a shared meal to break their fast before coming to this meeting.

‘At every turn we find Keshians involved, Highness,’ answered James. ‘I’ve used every contact I have here in Krondor, inside the Mockers and outside, and I’ve ruled out an attempted takeover both from within the Guild of Thieves–the Upright Man is too smart and has too many loyal thugs at his disposal–or from without. The independent gangs still pay tribute to the Mockers and conduct only the business their small franchises permit.

‘What’s more,’ he continued, ‘the Mockers have reached along the coast of the principality up to Sarth and out along the south coast to Land’s End. Mostly smuggling …’ He smiled for a moment and the prince returned the smile. When he and James had first met, with Arutha fleeing Guy du Bas-Tyra’s secret police, he had been sheltered by the Mockers and a band of smugglers under the control of a man named Trevor Hull. One unintended consequence of those events had been the eventual wedding of Arutha and his princess, Anita, but the other had been the development of an apparently successful partnership between the Mockers and smugglers that had gone on for years.

‘There are moments,’ said Arutha, ‘when I think making Krondor a tariff-free port would save the Crown more cost than we make arresting smugglers.’

‘But where would be the fun in that?’ asked James.

With a wave of his hand Arutha indicated James should get back to the point.

James continued, ‘We can rule out any sort of encroachment from the east–there is no criminal group of note between here and Salador. There are plenty of criminals between here and there, but they are not organized.’

‘So that leaves Kesh,’ said Arutha.

‘Absolutely. It’s possible some group from Queg or the Free Cities might be working for this Crawler, but as we’ve not found a single Quegan or Free City man so far among the Crawler’s crew, logic dictates it’s Kesh. And if it’s Kesh, that means Durbin.’

‘Well, that’s the most likely place to start,’ said Arutha.

‘Not quite yet, Highness. We can’t merely take ship to Durbin and wander off the docks asking where we can find the Crawler. We need a convincing story to cover our arrival.’

‘What did you have in mind?’ asked the prince, his expression revealing anticipation for one of James’s more entertaining plans.

• CHAPTER THREE •

Recruitment

MEN SHOUTED.

As the ship came into dock heavy bags of stuffed canvas on ropes, called fenders, were dropped alongside, preventing damaging contact. Still a solid thump and a groan of wood accompanied the last motion of the ship as the dock staff tied her off and the crew prepared to roll out the gangway.

James scampered down the ratlines from the mainmast, then nimbly leapt off the railing to land between two dock workers, startled by this unusual manner for a sailor to depart his ship. He ran to where the gangway was being secured and made a show of lashing down some random rope around a stanchion, then with two steps he was off into the crowd on the pier.

Sir James, newly minted Knight of the Prince’s Court in Krondor, had been left behind on the docks of that city. Dodging through the press of sailors, dockhands, prostitutes, thieves, and other assorted miscreants, was one Jimmy the Hand, master thief.

He worked his way through the crowd, watching faces. He moved with purpose as if on his way to a specific destination, but his eyes were constantly seeking out clues as to where he might begin his search. He reached the far end of the docks, where the quay ended and a cluster of hovels occupied the shoreline for several hundred yards, turned and saw a stall where a bored-looking garment-dealer stood.

James knew from his demeanour and position that he was a seller either newly come to the docks or someone who had run foul of whoever allocated locations for merchants–probably a corrupt official in the Governor of Durbin’s court–for the only worse location James could imagine would be outside the gates of the city. The man tried not to appear too anxious as James approached, reaching for his belt pouch.

‘I travel the sands tomorrow,’ said James.

If the merchant was puzzled by one who was obviously a sailor needing caravan garb, he said nothing, but rather broke into a rattling discourse on the high quality of his wares. James ignored him, nodding absently as if listening, but looking for just the right gear to blend into the city. He pulled out a pair of chalwar, those loose-fitting, dark-indigo trousers favoured by the desert travellers. These were of good cloth and the merchant said, ‘Ah, you have an eye for quality! These are the finest—’

James just continued to nod. He spoke passable Keshian, having dealt with them in Krondor over the years, but his accent clearly placed him as a Kingdom man, so he kept his comments down to grunts and occasional words. Finally he had selected a dark tunic, a matching turban, and a haik, a large cloth worn around the body, which was useful in many ways when travelling the desert. In the heat of the day it could be converted to a makeshift tent simply by raising it over the head with a riding crop or some other stick, or even on the hilt of a sword. It was also a blanket when needed, and could save one’s life in a sandstorm.

James made a show of haggling, for not to do so would attract attention, and when all was done, he quickly changed his outfit and went back the way he came. He carefully changed his walk from the rolling gait of a sailor to an almost pigeon-toed wide stance, raising his knees like a man used to walking through deep sand. More than one spy had died because the way he moved gave him away. As he followed his previous course in reverse, he saw that the three men he had marked in his first passage were still in place: a barrel-maker who had made no progress on his keg since James had seen him last, an apparently shiftless dockhand who wasn’t seeking work or trying to stay out of the mid-morning heat but sat in the sun carefully watching all who walked by, and at the last a prostitute who avoided finding clients.

If Abdur Rachman Memo Hazara-Khan was as clever as James knew him to be, the head of the Keshian Imperial Secret Police had put these three out to be easily found, while other agents watched who watched them. These other agents were quite a different story: they would be impossible to detect easily, and James knew that anyone he passed by could be working for Keshian Intelligence. He might spend days observing these people before he got a hint of who the true agents were.

Lord Hazara-Khan might be content to leave Durbin’s miserable inhabitants to the mercies of the governor’s rule, but the city was still a gateway into the Empire, and the head of Kesh’s Intelligence Service would wish to know who passed through that gateway, as well as keeping the governor’s excesses somewhat in check.

By the time James got to the opposite end of the docks he had spied at least two other agents watching for people such as himself. He knew he would attract attention if he made a third reconnaissance, even in disguise. The docks, like the city square, or other heavily travelled areas of any city, had a rhythm, a flow of people from one place to another, and just breaking that flow would draw notice.

His time was limited, for the sight of a desert man at the docks, while not unusual, was less common than sailors and traders, so he kept walking.

Jazhara and William would be arriving the next day on a diplomatic mission for the prince to the Governor of Durbin. Given the horrors they had encountered so far since the three had been given the mandate to recover the Tear of the Gods, it seemed a good idea to begin at the top–the governor’s palace–and work down as they sought out any magical or demonic influences. Once that charade was accomplished, Arutha had left it up to James to decide how to proceed. Being in Durbin meant they could return to the Kingdom if needs be, or venture into the surrounding countryside should the trail take them outside the city. As Jazhara’s people were encamped to the south, her taking a small retinue of guards out of the city by horse or camel would not draw undue attention. James relished the possibilities, and discovered he was also enjoying the responsibilities given to him by the prince. Always without false modesty, and with more than his share of bravado, Jimmy the Hand, now Sir James, Knight of the Court, was finding his rise as addictive as any drug sold in the back alleys. He also discovered that he lacked personal ambition, wishing for no wealth or power for its own sake, but only the opportunity to serve Arutha.

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