Shards of a Broken Crown (Serpentwar Book 4)

Outside the Prince’s quarters, Jimmy said, “Captain Subai, if I pen a message to my great-grandfather, would you see he gets it along with the other communications?”

 

 

“Of course,” said the Captain. “I expect we’ll both be at the city gate at first light tomorrow. Give it to me then. And I will have something for you. Until then, good night.”

 

Jimmy and Dash bid the Captain good night, and Jimmy said, “Well, Sheriff, help me compose a letter to Great-grandfather.”

 

Dash said, “Sheriff?” With a sigh he followed his brother.

 

 

 

 

 

The dawn was still hours away, but the sky was lightening in the east as Dash stood next to his brother. Upon another horse sat Malar Enares, the servant from the Vale of Dreams, who had somehow learned of Jimmy’s journey. He had prevailed upon Jimmy to allow him to ride south with him, claiming that while work was plentiful in Krondor, payment wasn’t, and that his former master’s business holdings along the Keshian border might still be operating. As the man was harmless company in the main, and often useful, Jimmy agreed.

 

Captain Subai rode up with a company of his Pathfinders and handed a canvas-wrapped bundle to Jimmy. “This was your father’s sword, Jimmy. I took it from him before they prepared his body to return it to Krondor. I knew as elder son it was to be yours.”

 

Jimmy took the bundle and unwrapped it. The hilt was worn, and the scabbard nicked and scratched. But the blade was immaculate. Jimmy drew the blade and saw the faint outlines of a miniature warhammer seemingly etched into the forte of the blade. He knew that this was where Macros the Black had empowered the blade with a talisman from the Abbot of Sarth Abbey when Prince Arutha had to face the moredhel leader Murmandamus. The sword had hung in the study in Krondor since the old Prince’s death, and had been sent by Duke James to his son. Now Jimmy held it. “I don’t know,” said Jimmy. “This should go to Patrick or the King, I think.”

 

Subai shook his head. “No, had the Prince of Krondor wished the sword to go to the King, it would have. He left it in Krondor for a reason.”

 

Jimmy held it reverently for a while, then unbuckled his own belt, handing his sword to Dash. He put his father’s sword belt around his waist. “Thank you.”

 

Dash came to stand next to Captain Subai and said, “Would you see the courier who you’re sending to Elvandar carries this message to our great-grandfather, please?”

 

Subai took the letter and placed it inside his tunic. “I am that courier. I personally will lead the Pathfinders who travel to Yabon and on to Elvandar.”

 

“Thank you,” said Dash.

 

Subai said, “If we don’t chance to meet again, young Jimmy, it has been an honor.”

 

Jimmy said, “Safe travel, Captain.”

 

The Pathfinders rode out the gate, heading east at a relaxed trot. Jimmy looked at his brother. “Stay safe, little brother.”

 

Dash reached up to shake Jimmy’s hand. “You travel safely, too, big brother. I don’t know how long it will be before we see one another, but you will be missed.”

 

Jimmy nodded. “Letters to Mother and the rest of the family are in the pouch bound for Rillanon. When I know where I’m likely to be, I’ll send word.”

 

Dash waved as Jimmy and his company rode out the gate, then turned around to head back into the castle. He had a meeting in an hour with the Prince, Lord Brian, and others in the castle. After that he had to begin the process of bringing law and order to Krondor while Jimmy rode south to Port Vykor.

 

 

 

 

 

Fifteen - Betrayal

 

 

Jimmy halted.

 

The escort stopped behind him. The Captain of the company of Patrick’s Royal Household Guards said, “This is as far as we’re supposed to go, m’lord.” He glanced around. “Leave it to those—”

 

“Captain?”

 

“I mean no disrespect to Lord Duko, m’lord, but after all, we were fighting him and those miserable bastards he calls soldiers just last year.” He noted Jimmy’s disapproving expression and said, “Anyway, they should be here, making a camp, before they start back to their patrol.”

 

“Maybe they ran into some trouble.”

 

“Possible, my lord.”

 

They were at a fork in the road, the agreed-upon southern limit of Krondorian patrols—everything to the south was Duko’s responsibility. The southwest fork in the road led to Port Vykor, while the southeast fork would start around the edge of Shandon Bay, eventually leading toward Land’s End.

 

Jimmy said, “We’ll be fine, Captain. We’re halfway to Port Vykor and should be running into Lord Duko’s patrols any time now. If they’re not here today, they’ll be here tomorrow, I’m sure.”

 

“I’d still feel better if you’d wait here until one shows up, m’lord. We could linger here for another half-day or so.”

 

“Thanks, but no, Captain. The sooner I get to Port Vykor, the sooner I can be about the Prince’s business. We’ll continue along the southwest road until sundown, then we’ll camp. If Duko’s patrol doesn’t show up to escort us tomorrow, we’ll find our way to Port Vykor alone.”

 

“Very well, m’lord. May the gods watch over you.”

 

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