Shards of a Broken Crown

“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.

Sitting on the bed next to his brother, who lay under a heavy wool blanket. Dash said, “That was quick.”

“He gave me something to drink, washed my feet in an unguent, then told me to get some sleep.”

“How bad are they?”

“I was going to lose toes, at least,” said Jimmy, “if he hadn’t been here.” With a nod of his head he indicated the departed priest.

“You paint a pretty bleak picture of what’s out there.”

Jimmy sighed. “I saw places where men had stripped the bark off of trees to make soup.”

Dash sat back. “Patrick’s not going to be happy.”

“What’s happened here while I was gone?” asked Jimmy, stifling a yawn.

Dash said, “We’ve got reports that things are stable up north, though no one has seen sign of that bastard Duko lately.”

Jimmy said, “If Fadawah is sending Duko south, Krondor could be very difficult to seize.”

“Yes,” agreed Dash. “Kesh is not happy about what went on down in Stardock, and we’ve got elements of the garrison of Ran and half of the King’s Own down near Landreth, just waiting for an excuse to move south. Kesh has pulled away from Shamata, but they’re a lot closer than Patrick likes, and the vale is once again a no-man’s-land. Negotiations are underway, even as we speak.”

“The East?” asked Jimmy, this time unable to stop the yawn.

“We won’t know until the spring, but some of the smaller kingdoms may get playful. Patrick and the King have exchanged messages, and I get the impression Borric wants some of his Army of the East back as soon as the thaw starts.”

“What’s Father say?”

“To me?” asked Dash. Jimmy nodded. “Not much,” said Dash with a smile that reminded his brother of their grandfather in his more playful moods. “He’s pretty closemouthed about things.”

“Mother?” asked Jimmy.

Dash nodded again. “I get the feeling it may be a long time before Mother visits us. She seems to find court life in Roldem preferable to living in a tent in the burned-out remains of Krondor, irrespective of the rank of Duchess.”

Jimmy closed his eyes. “She and Aunt Polina are most likely shopping right now, or having gowns fitted for a banquet or dance.”

“Most likely,” agreed Dash. “But it’s hard on Father. You’ve been away for most of the winter, and the few times you’ve been here you’ve seen him when he’s busy.”

“Grandfather and Grandmother?” asked Jimmy.

“Yes,” said Dash. “When he’s alone and thinks I don’t notice, he broods. He knows there was nothing he could do, but he silently rages about it. I hope once spring comes and we start the campaign he’ll snap out of it, but he’s drinking more than he used to and seems withdrawn most of the time.”

When Jimmy said nothing, Dash glanced at his brother and saw his chin on his chest, his eyes half-closed as he fought to remain awake. Dash quietly stood up and moved to the door. He took a long look at his brother, and for a moment saw an echo of their dead grandmother in his features, the pale skin and nearly white blond hair. Finding a tear coming unbidden to his eyes, Dash quickly left, silently closing the door behind, while he said a silent prayer of thanks to Ruthia, the Goddess of Luck, for the safe return of his brother.