Jimmy again looked at his brother as if he were crazy, and said, “You do find the oddest things entertaining.”
Arutha looked at his two sons and said, “We just got confirming intelligence that Duko has come south.”
“That’s the stick in the anthill, isn’t it?” said Dash.
Arutha nodded. “Indeed. If Duko gets established in Krondor before we do, he threatens Port Vykor. Cut off Vykor and we have no communications with the fleet; cut off the fleet, and we have no chance to resupply from the Sunset Islands and the Far Coast.”
Owen said, “It might be a feint, with Sarth being his real objective. But there’s a report that a second force moves south along the road from Hawk’s Hallow under the command of Nordan, Fadawah’s second.”
“That’s a lot of soldiers slogging through the ice and mud,” said Jimmy.
Arutha said, “Krondor’s harbor is useless; Fadawah knows this. We don’t know if he knows of Vykor’s harbor down in Shandon Bay, but if he does, then this isn’t a feint.”
Jimmy glanced at his brother, then said to his father, “So you want us to find out which?”
“If possible,” said Arutha. “If he’s just trying to slow down our march, so he can reinforce Sarth, we have to know.”
Dash looked around the room, then asked, “Anything else?”
Arutha said, “Stay alive?”
Jimmy smiled. “We always plan on that, Father.”
Arutha came and embraced his sons, Dash first, then Jimmy.
Dash said, “Come on, we have some riding to do this night.”
Jimmy resumed looking dubious as they left the room.
Two - Wilderness
Dash signaled.
Jimmy took out his sword and ducked behind the boulder. Dash left his own position on the south side of the King’s Highway and dropped into a ditch that ran parallel to the road for several hundred feet.
The brothers had been riding for two days. The thaw had begun and there was actually some warmth in the sunlight when it came out from behind the seemingly constant cloud cover. But the temperature didn’t fall below freezing anymore, and the rain helped melt the snow. As Dash lay in the cold mud he wished for the ice again. The ooze slowed travel and he didn’t seem able to get dry, even when staying close to a fire at night.
They had heard voices in the woods ahead a few minutes ago, had dismounted, tied their horses, and advanced on foot. As the sound of approaching feet grew louder, Dash chanced a glance over the edge of the berm, and saw a ragged band of travelers looking about in a fearful manner as they moved eastward along the King’s Highway. There was a man and woman, and children, three of them, though one—Dash couldn’t tell if it was a girl or boy under the heavy hood—seemed almost of adult height.
Dash stood as Jimmy came from behind the boulder. The man in the van of the small party of refugees pulled a wicked-looking hand scythe from under his ragged cloak and held it in menacing fashion as the others turned as if to flee.
“Hold!” Jimmy shouted. “We’ll not harm you.”
The man looked dubious, the others fearful, but they halted their movement. Jimmy and Dash both put away weapons and slowly approached.
The man didn’t lower his scythe. “Who be you?” he said, his words heavily accented.
Jimmy and Dash exchanged glances, for the man spoke with the accent of one who had come from Novindus. This man at one time had been a soldier with the invading army of the Emerald Queen.
Dash held up his hands to show he was not holding any weapon, and Jimmy stopped moving. Jimmy said, “We’re travelers. Who are you?”
The woman ventured to step from behind the man’s protection. She was gaunt and looked weak. Jimmy glanced to the others and saw that the children were equally underfed. The tallest of the three was a girl, perhaps fifteen years of age, though appearing older for the deep dark circles under her eyes. Jimmy returned his attention to the woman, who looked at him and said, “We were farmers.” She pointed to the east. “We’re trying to reach Darkmoor. We hear there’s food there.”
Jimmy nodded. “Some. Where are you from?”
“Tannerus,” said the woman.
Dash pointed at the man. “He’s not from Tannerus.”
The man nodded. He motioned at himself with his free hand and said, “Markin. From City of the Serpent River.” He glanced around. “Long way from here.”
“You were a soldier of the Emerald Queen?” asked Jimmy.
The man spat on the ground and it looked as if the gesture was taking most of his strength. “I spit on her!” He started to wobble and the woman put her arms around him.
“He’s a farmer,” she said. “He told us his story when he came to us.”