Shards of a Broken Crown (Serpentwar Book 4)

Seven different hideouts had been discovered, as well as three ships in the harbor. The ships were being left to the Royal Navy, which had enough presence in the area that the sudden boarding of the target ships should be unexpected.

 

But Dash was unhappy. He knew there were other agents in the city, and that a significant portion of the caravan guards at the caravansary were probably Keshian soldiers. The only comfort he drew from their going uncaught was that they were outside the wall and would remain so. He had established checkpoints at the gate, on the pretext of needing a better census with the rebuilding of the city.

 

They had reached a cellar in the northeastern portion of the city; the building was still burned-out, but Dash knew the door to the cellar had been restored. It had been scorched to look burned.

 

He had debated the best way to approach this task with himself all day, and had finally elected to take the shock approach.

 

The upper cellar was deserted, but he knew the rear door led to a ramp down to the lower cellar, the one which opened onto the sewers. He tested the door handle and found it unlatched. Gently he lifted it and moved the door open. He whispered to the men behind him, “All right, silently until I say different.”

 

He crept down the ramp to a landing opening up on a large cellar, once previously used to house large casks of ale and wine. The building above had been an inn. On the far side of the room a score of men were lying around on bedding on the floor, or sitting on barrels. Dash said to his own men, “Spread out and don’t stop.”

 

He walked purposefully toward the nearest man who looked in surprise at the men approaching. Then he saw the red armband and started to stand up. Dash shouted, “In the name of the Prince, surrender!”

 

The man lying on the nearest pallet started to rise, but Dash lashed out with his billy club and knocked the man senseless. The other constables hurried forward, and one man who started to pull his sword was struck unconscious by three constables. Others raised hands in surrender, though one tried to run down a passage. One of the constables flung his billy along the floor, sending it skipping over the stones to strike the man in the back of the legs. He fell hard and before he could rise two other constables were on him.

 

Dash had the prisoners roped together with their hands tied behind them before they could organize a resistance. One of the newly deputized constables said, “That went easily enough, Sheriff.”

 

Dash said, “Don’t get too comfortable. The rest of the night won’t be this easy.”

 

At dawn Jimmy rose to find a worried-looking Marcel Duval standing over his sleeping roll. “Earl James,” said the Squire from Bas-Tyra.

 

“What is it?” asked Jimmy, getting up and trying to stretch at the same time.

 

“Some of the horses are footsore, sir, and I was wondering if we might take a day to rest them.”

 

Jimmy blinked, not sure he was entirely awake. “Rest them?”

 

“The pace has been punishing, sir, and some of these animals are going to be lame by the time we reach Krondor.”

 

Jimmy came wide awake. “Squire,” said Jimmy in as calm a voice as he could muster. “You may play at being a soldier all you wish back at the court in Bas-Tyra. Here you are a soldier. Now, by the time I get my horse saddled, you and your men had better be ready to ride. Today, your gallant troop rides in the van.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“That is all!” said Jimmy far too sharply. He closed his eyes a moment, then counted slowly to ten. He took a deep breath, then shouted, “Mount up!”

 

Everywhere men scrambled to get their horses saddled. Part of what made Jimmy irritable was that he knew the horses were being punished. Duval’s pretty bunch wouldn’t be the only ones limping into Krondor, but he knew that by pushing this company, he’d reach the city in three more days. He just hoped that would be soon enough.

 

When the column was ready, Jimmy looked back and did a mental calculation. Five hundred cavalry and mounted infantry. The men were eating dried rations in the saddle, and already a few could be seen showing signs of illness. But sick or well, tired or rested, he was going to get them all to Krondor. They could tip the balance if the city was still intact when they got there. Fighting back hunger and fatigue, he shouted, “Get something in your bellies while you can. In ten minutes we pick up the pace.” Turning to the head of the line, he shouted, “Squire Duval, lead the column at the walk!”

 

“Sir!” came the reply, and Duval led his fifty lancers out in the van.

 

As the sun crept above the horizon in the east and rose and yellow hues bathed the landscape, Jimmy was forced to admit Duval’s company did cut a dashing appearance.

 

 

 

 

 

The attack came at dawn, before the sun had risen over the mountains, at the time when men were the least ready to fight and the most likely to react slowly. Erik was already awake and had eaten, seen to the fortifications he had ordered constructed, and had called for the camp to be made ready.

 

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