“These five, and others I’ll warrant, were gathering information on the deployment of resources, soldiers, the condition of defenses, every potentially valuable bit of information an enemy might want. They were feeding it to someone here in the palace.”
“Now I’m confused. I could see someone in the palace feeding the information to someone outside, but from outside in?”
“That’s what had me puzzled for a bit, but the fact is, the person inside the castle they were reporting to wasn’t part of Patrick’s staff.”
“Who was it?”
Talwin said, “A man who was working here when Patrick arrived, but who stayed on when Duko left. A man who seemed to be everywhere when someone needed help with documents or messages. A man named Malar Enares.”
Dash said, “Gods! He’s that servant we met out in the woods last winter. He claimed to be from the vale.”
Talwin shook his head. “If we had access to your grandfather’s documents, I bet we’d find his name amongst those on a list of agents of Great Kesh.”
Suddenly Dash was concerned about his brother. “I need to see if there are any messages in from Duko down at Port Vykor in the last few days.”
“Enares left with your brother, right?”
“Right,” said Dash. “If he’s a Keshian agent, he’s either already left for Kesh, to let them know how bad things are in the city, or he’s down in Port Vykor doing more harm.”
“Send word to Duko, and if your brother has arrived there safely, let me know.”
“Are you quitting the constabulary today?” asked Dash as he pulled on his boots and moved to the door.
“I think so. Once the new Duke is in his office, I need to repair the damage done during the war. There are agents who reported to me who don’t know I’m still alive. There are agents I don’t know are dead yet. Your grandfather had a marvelously devious mind and created a thing of beauty. It may take me the rest of my life, but eventually I’ll get the intelligence network he made back in place.”
“Well, as long as I’m the Sheriff of Krondor, if you need help, let me know.”
“I will,” said Talwin, following Dash through the door.
Talwin turned without another word and moved back toward the rooms in which the prisoners were kept, while Dash hurried toward the Knight-Marshal’s office, where all incoming military messages would be logged before being sent to Prince Patrick, or north to Lord Greylock. If Jimmy had sent word, it would be there. Dash picked up the pace and was almost running when he reached the door.
The sleepy-looking clerk looked up and said, “Yes, Sheriff?”
“Has there been a message from Port Vykor in the last day or two?”
The clerk looked over a long scroll upon which the most recent messages were logged. “No, sir, none in the last five days.”
Dash said, “If one arrives anytime soon, inform me at once. Thank you.” He turned around and started back toward his room. Then he glanced outside and saw the sun was rising. Putting aside fatigue, he turned and started toward the door to the courtyard and the way back to the New Market Jail. He had a great deal of work to do and it couldn’t wait on worrying about his brother.
“Sheriff Puppy,” came the voice through the window.
Dash came awake. He had spent a long day keeping the city under control and had retired to the little room in the rear of the old inn he used for sleeping.
“Trina?” he asked as he stood up to look through the shutters. Opening them, he saw the young woman’s face illuminated by moonlight.
Grinning, he stood there in his under-trousers. His shirt, trousers, and boots lay in a heap beside his straw mattress. “Why do I doubt you came to my window because you couldn’t bear to be away from me?”
She smiled back and took a moment to look him up and down, then said, “You’re a pretty enough boy, Sheriff Puppy, but I like my men with a little more experience.”
Dash started getting dressed. “I feel like I’ve got enough experience for a man three times my age,” he said. “As much as I enjoy bantering with you, why did you wake me?”
“We’ve got a problem.”
Dash grabbed his sword, handed it to Trina, then with a single vault, grabbed the upper sill of the window and hauled himself through. Landing on the ground next to her, he said, “We as in ‘you and me,’ or as in ‘the Mockers’?” as he took back his sword and buckled it around his waist.
“As in the entire city of Krondor,” she replied. Suddenly, and apparently impulsively, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I wasn’t mocking you about being pretty.”
Dash reached out and put his hand behind her head, drawing her to him. He kissed her deeply and lingeringly. When he let her go, he said, “I’ve known a lot of women, despite my youth, but you’re unique.” He looked into her eyes a moment, then said, “Let me know when I’ve got enough experience.”
Softly she said, “I’m a thief and you’re the Sheriff of Krondor. Wouldn’t that be a match?”
Dash grinned. “Have I ever told you about my grandfather?”
She shook her head in irritation. “We don’t have time for this.”