Krondor : Tear of the Gods (Riftwar Legacy Book 3)

Jazhara said, “This Knute betrayed Bear?”

 

 

James nodded. William said, “Whatever ‘it’ is, this Bear must want it very badly to risk so much mayhem and murder to recover it.”

 

James let out a slow breath. “My thinking too.” Turning toward the stairs upward, he said, “Let’s see if Garruth has uncovered any more information in that mess. But one thing I know for certain.”

 

“What?” William and Jazhara asked simultaneously.

 

“Arutha is not going to be happy.”

 

 

 

 

 

FOUR - Secrets

 

 

A soldier descended the staircase.

 

“Captain, we found someone alive. It’s Dennison,” he said.

 

James glanced at Garruth, who nodded that the squire should investigate and James signaled to Jazhara and William to accompany him upstairs.

 

Up there, they found the rooms in as much disarray as the ground floor. Through a door in the far end of the hall, they could see another hole blown through the wall that was obviously the way the man called Bear had exited the jail.

 

Sitting on a stool with a cold wet rag pressed to his head was the jail’s scribe, Dennison. The scribe looked up and said, “Thank Dala, who protects the weak and the pious. Who knows what horrors they’d have inflicted upon me had you not shown up.”

 

William looked around the room. “What happened here?”

 

“I was knocked to the ground by a thunderclap, then rendered almost senseless by a second. This stool upon which I sit fell atop me, striking my head here.” He rubbed at a nasty bump on his forehead. “I had blood upon my brow when they arrived, so I feigned death. They killed all the guards in the barracks room.” He pointed to the door leading into the largest room on the top floor. “Someone with a powerful, deep voice gave the orders, but I kept my eyes closed so I can’t tell you what he looks like. But I did catch a glimpse of one of his men.”

 

“Did you recognize him?”

 

“I think so. I’ve seen him before. He’s rumored to be the bosun’s mate for Sullen Michael, the pirate.”

 

James’s eyes narrowed. He’d met many liars in his day, and this man was a particularly bad one. “Sullen Michael? How would a law-abiding servant of the Crown, such as yourself, know this man?”

 

The scribe blinked and said, “Ah, I have been known to drink . . . from time to time . . . and occasionally I find myself in the less savory taverns . . . down by the docks.” His speech became more rapid as he said, “Ah, maybe I’m wrong. Everything was happening so fast, and I only caught a glimpse before I closed my eyes again. I mean, it could have been someone else . . .” His voice trailed off as he looked around the room uncomfortably.

 

James glanced at Jazhara and William, and William inched over to the stairs, while Jazhara took up position between the scribe and the hole in the far wall. James said, “Given how thorough they were in killing just about everyone else, why do you think you were left alive?”

 

The color drained from the scribe’s face and he stammered, “As I said, sir, I feigned death.”

 

“Odd they didn’t check more closely,” Jazhara offered coolly.

 

James nodded to William, then the squire stepped forward and grabbed the slender scribe by the shirtfront. “It’s more than passing strange that every man in this jail was killed — every man except you and the drunk downstairs.”

 

“And the drunk only survived because he was in a different cell,” William observed.

 

James shoved the scribe so his back was to the wall. “The raiders knew exactly when to hit this jail. Who knew the schedule?”

 

Going even paler, the scribe sputtered, “The sheriff! The deputies!”

 

“And you!” said William, pressing in close to the man. “There’s a girl lies dead because of those mercenaries, a girl I loved! I think you know more than you’re telling, so you’d best be out with it before I spill your blood.”

 

The scribe was shaking with fear as he held up a placating hand and he looked beseechingly from William to James to Jazhara. “Truly, masters, I’ve no idea.”

 

William whipped out his dagger and put the point against the man’s throat. A thin trickle of blood snaked down Dennison’s neck. “You lie! Say your prayers!”

 

“No, wait!” screamed the scribe. “I’ll tell. I’ll tell. Just don’t kill me!”

 

James moved slightly, as if to pull William away from the scribe, and in even tones said, “Did you know this man Bear?”

 

Dennison nodded, looking defeated. “We did a bit of business. He used to slip me a few crowns in exchange for information regarding the jail and the guards, and on occasion I’d lighten a few sentences here and there when his men were picked up. I’d cut them loose; no one noticed. I don’t know what Bear was doing with that pirate Knute, but he was mighty upset when Knute got picked up.”

 

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