“Where?”
“Back to the palace. Let’s get some rest, then after sundown we’ll come back and have a chat with Thom. I think he’s seen something that someone else doesn’t want him talking about, and if we can find out what that is, we might make some sense out of all this.”
“It’s obvious someone doesn’t want us raising that ship.”
“Yes,” said James. “And while William is chasing Bear around the wilderness, there’s someone else arranging for the murder of Guild Masters and beggars.”
“The Crawler?” asked Jazhara.
James said, “That’s my guess. Come on, let’s return to the palace and get some rest.” They walked quickly out of the darkness into the daylight of the busy street.
William signaled for his patrol to halt, while a lone rider hurried down the trail toward him. They were less than an hour out of the city and following marks left by a pair of Royal Pathfinders .The rider reined in and saluted. It was Marie, one of the Pathfinders. “Lieutenant.”
“What have you found?” William asked.
“A half-dozen men left the city on foot through the fields to the northeast of the North Gate. They took no pains to hide their passage. One of them was a big man, a heavy man, probably the one called Bear. His prints are wide and deep. At the edge of the fields they had horses waiting for them and rode hard up that trail. Jackson is following them. He’ll leave signs.”
William signaled for the men to ride on. Marie fell in beside the lieutenant. The Pathfinders were legendary, men who were descended from the first foresters and wardens of the earliest Princes of Krondor. They knew the surrounding wilderness as a mother knows the features of her children and they tended to be an insular lot who only grudgingly took command from officers outside their company. Their own captain was rarely seen in the palace, save by the Prince’s orders, and they didn’t socialize with the garrison’s regulars. But they were among the finest trackers in the West and no man in the Armies of the West doubted their skills.
After a few moments of silence, William asked, “What else?”
“What do you mean, Lieutenant?” replied the Pathfinder.
“What is it you’re not telling me?”
The Pathfinder glanced at the young officer and gave him a small smile and a nod. “These men take no pains to hide their passage. They are not afraid of being found. They hurry for another reason.”
“They need to get somewhere fast,” William observed.
“Or need to meet someone,” suggested Marie.
“Ambush?” asked William.
“Possibly,” replied the Pathfinder. “If they appear to be anxious to get down the trail, then suddenly turn . . .” He shrugged.
“Jackson would warn us.”
Without emotion, Marie said, “If he’s alive.”
They rode on in silence.
If the alley had been gloomy in the daytime, it was inky at night. James uncovered a lantern he had secured at the palace.
After sleeping through the late morning and early afternoon, James and Jazhara had dined with the Prince and his family. It had been Jazhara’s first dinner with the royal family, a privilege of her new position, and she had enjoyed the opportunity to meet and chat with Princess Anita, the Princess Elena, and the twin princes, Borric and Erland. James had apprised the Prince of their progress thus far, and Arutha had approved of James’s investigation of the missing journeyman, Kendaric.
Once again dressed in her practical travel garb, Jazhara walked a step behind James as they traversed the dark alley. As they neared the crates, James signaled for silence and Jazhara touched him on the shoulder to indicate that she understood.
As they approached the crates, they heard a voice shout out, “No! No! Old Thom didn’t tell a soul!”
“Thom, I’m not going to hurt you,” James called out. He turned the lantern on the crate and the light revealed an old man, dressed in rags, huddling inside. His nose was misshapen and red, from repeated breaks in his youth and hard drinking in his later years. His front teeth were missing, and what little hair remained was almost white, spreading around his head like a faint nimbus.
Red-shot, watery blue eyes regarded them as he said, “You’re not here to hurt old Thom?”
“No,” said James, kneeling and putting up the light so that his own face would be revealed. “I’m not here to hurt you. Just to ask some questions . . .”
“Ah, a Prince’s man, are you?” said the old beggar. “Fate is kind. I thought it was them murderers come back to finish Old Thom.”
“Why would they want to finish you?” asked Jazhara, coming up behind James.
Thom glanced at Jazhara, then answered. “I ‘spect it’s ‘cause I was here the other night when they broke into the Guild House.”
“When was that?” asked James.