Cutter’s Gap was at the south end of a wide valley, running through the Teeth of the World, rock-strewn and densely grown with brush for most of its length. Then it cleared, with no vestige of cover. Only scorched ground could be seen. Jimmy and Locklear glanced about, and Guy observed, “We have reached the limit of Highcastle’s patrols. He probably has a burn here every year, to keep the area uncovered so no one can approach undetected.”
As the sixth day since their leaving the Edder Forests was drawing to a close, the valley began to narrow and they entered the gap. Arutha slowed his horse as he looked about, softly observing, “Remember Roald saying that thirty mercenaries held back two hundred goblins here?”
Jimmy nodded, thinking of the fun-loving mercenary. They rode into the gap in silence.
“Halt and identify yourselves!” came the cry from the rocks above.
Arutha and the others reined in and waited while the speaker revealed himself. A man stepped out from behind a rock above on the rim of the gap, a man wearing a white tabard with a red stone tor depicted upon it, still clear in the twilight of evening. A company of riders appeared from down the narrow canyon while bowmen rose up on all sides above.
Arutha, slowly raised his hands. “I am Arutha, Prince of Krondor.”
There were several laughs and the officer in charge said, “And I’m your brother, the King. Nice and bold, renegade, but the Prince of Krondor lies dead in his family’s vault in Rillanon. If you’d not been running weapons to the goblins you’d have heard.”
Arutha shouted back, “Get me to Brian Highcastle.”
The leader of the horsemen rode up next to the Prince and said, “Put your hands behind you, there’s a good lad.”
Arutha removed his right gauntlet, and held out his signet. The man studied it, then shouted, “Captain! Have you seen the Royal Seal of Krondor?”
“An eagle flying over a mountain peak.”
“Well, whether he’s the Prince or not, he’s wearing the ring.” Then the man looked at the others. “And he’s got an elf with him, too.”
“An elf? You mean a Dark Brother.”
The soldier looked confused. “You’d better come down here, sir.” He said to Arutha, “We’ll get this straight in a minute . . . Your Highness,” he added in a soft voice, just in case.
The captain took several minutes to reach the floor of the gap, then came to stand next to Arutha. He studied the Prince’s face. “It’s a good likeness, I’ll warrant, but the Prince never wore no beard.”
Then Guy said, “As thick-headed as you are, it’s no wonder Armand sent you to Highcastle, Walter of Gyldenholt.”
The man regarded Guy for a long moment, then said, “Bloody hell! It’s the Duke of Bas-Tyra!”
“And this is the Prince of Krondor.”
The man called Walter kept looking back and forth; he said, “But you’re dead, or at least that’s what the royal proclamation said.” He turned to Guy. “And it’s your head to return to the Kingdom, Your Grace.”
Arutha said, “Get us to Brian and we’ll straighten this out. His Grace is under my protection, as are these others. Now, can we stop this foolishness and ride on. There’s an army of Dark Brothers and goblins a day or so behind us, and we think Brian would appreciate hearing about it.”
Walter of Gyldenholt motioned for the man who led the company to turn around. “Take them to Lord Highcastle. And when it’s all sorted out, come back and tell me just what the bloody hell is going on.”
Arutha put down the razor. He ran his hand over his again clean face and said, “So we left the elves and rode straight here.”
Brian, Lord Highcastle, commander of the detachment at Cutter’s Gap, said, “An incredible tale, Highness. Were I not seeing you here with my own eyes, with du Bas-Tyra sitting there, I’d not have believed a word. The Kingdom thinks you dead. We had a day of memorial in your honour at the King’s request.” He sat observing the weary travellers as they cleaned up and ate, in the barracks room he had given over to Arutha and his companions. The old commander was stiff in posture, as if he were constantly at attention. He looked more a parade ground soldier than a frontier commander.
Amos, who was busy gulping a flagon of wine, laughed. “If you’re going to have one of those, it’s best to do it before you’re dead so you can enjoy it. Shame you missed it, Arutha.”
Guy said, “Have you many of my men with you?”
Highcastle said, “Most of your officers were sent to Ironpass and Northwarden, but we’ve two of your better ones here: Baldwin de la Troville, and Anthony du Masigny. And a few remain at Bas-Tyra. Guiles Martine-Reems rules in your city now, as Baron du Corvis.”
Guy said, “He’d like to be Duke, no doubt.”
Arutha said, “Brian, I’d like to evacuate back to Sethanon. That’s Murmandamus’s obvious target and the city could benefit from your soldiers here. This position is untenable.”
Highcastle said nothing for a long moment, then said, “No, Highness.”
Amos said, “Say no to the Prince? Ha!”