Shards of a Broken Crown (Serpentwar Book 4)

“If you know who these men are,” suggested Patrick, “the ones who are secreting all these weapons and food, why don’t you just arrest them?”

 

 

“Because presently I have less than one hundred constables, and I believe there are close to a thousand enemy soldiers scattered throughout the city. As soon as I arrest the first bunch, the rest will go to ground. And I don’t know who all of them are. I think I’ve got some lying low aboard ships off the coast, and there may be some in the caravansary outside the gate, and who knows how many are lurking down in the sewers.

 

“But if I ring the alarm bell, and you have the soldiers in the city placed at key locations, between them and my constables, we can eliminate this threat.”

 

Duke Rufio said, “I have two hundred soldiers en route from Rodez who should be arriving here within the week. Perhaps when they arrive?”

 

Dash tried mightily to hide his aggravation. He almost succeeded. “At least let me employee more men,” Dash pleaded.

 

Patrick said, “The treasury is low; you’ll have to make do with what you have.”

 

“What about volunteers?” asked Dash.

 

“If anyone volunteers to serve, swear them to duty. Do whatever you have to. Perhaps after the war we might pay them.” Patrick looked as if he had run out of patience. “That will be all, Sheriff,” said Patrick.

 

Dash bowed and removed himself from the office. Stalking down the hall, he was lost in thought when he turned a corner and almost ran into Francie. “Dash!” she said, sounding pleased to see him. “It’s been so long.”

 

“I’ve been busy,” he said, still feeling nettled over Patrick’s dismissal of his idea.

 

“Everyone has. Father tells me your job is probably as thankless as anyone’s in the palace, yet he thinks you’re doing it well.”

 

“Thanks,” said Dash. “Are you staying here in Krondor, now that Duko Rufio has assumed office?”

 

“Father and I leave for Rillanon in a week,” said Francie. “We have to make plans . . .”

 

“For the wedding?”

 

Francie nodded. “No one is supposed to know; the King will announce it after things calm down . . . .” She looked troubled.

 

“What is it?”

 

Lowering her voice she said, “Have you heard anything from Jimmy?”

 

“No,” he said.

 

“I’m worried about him,” said Francie. “He left in such a hurry and we really had little chance to talk. . . about things.”

 

Dash had no time for this. “Francie, he’s fine, and as for talking about things, well, perhaps after the wedding, when Patrick’s returned and you’re Princess of Krondor, you can order him to come to a garden party . . .”

 

“Dash!” said Francie, looking hurt. “Why are you being so mean?”

 

Dash sighed. “Because I’m tired, angry, frustrated, and because your future husband is being . . . well, he’s being Patrick. And if you want to know, I’m worried about Jimmy, too.”

 

Francie nodded. “Is he really upset by my marrying Patrick?”

 

Dash shrugged. “I don’t know. I think in a way, yes, but in another way he knows things have to be what they are. He’s . . . confused, like the rest of us.”

 

Francie sighed. “I just want him to be my friend.”

 

Dash tried to force a smile. “You shouldn’t worry about that. Jimmy’s very loyal. He’ll always be your friend.” He bowed slightly. “Well, milady, I must be off. There’s too much to do and I’m already late.”

 

“Good-bye, Dash,” she said, and Dash detected a note of sadness in her voice, as if they were parting forever.

 

“Good-bye, Francie,” he said as he turned and walked off. Here he was trying to keep the city intact, and she was concerned with hurt feelings. Dash knew he was in a bad mood, but he also knew it was well earned. And he knew he was likely to be in a worse one if he didn’t come up with some way to neutralize those forces hostile to the crown already secreted inside the city.

 

 

 

 

 

Subai was astonished, as was every human upon first viewing Elvandar. He had been led through the glades to the large clearing surrounding the heart of the elven forests, and when he had spied the giant trees of luminous colors he had been moved to his most expressive exclamation in years. “Killian! What joy!” he had whispered.

 

Adelin said, “Of those beings you humans worship, we revere Killian most.”

 

He led the tired and hungry Captain to the Queen’s court, and by the time Subai reached it, he felt far better than he had any reason to expect. He suspected it had something to do with the magic associated with the place, according to legend.

 

He bowed before the two beings sitting upon the dais, a woman of stunning if alien beauty, and a tall, powerfully built but young-looking man. “Your Majesty,” he said to the Queen. “My lord,” he said to the man.

 

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