“There’s to be a general amnesty.”
The old man studied his great-nephew and said, “I don’t hear the ‘but,’ though it is there.”
“It’s to be applied only to those who fought against the Kingdom, as they swear loyalty to the crown. It will also be extended to any man who volunteers for service now.”
“But not petty thieves such as the Mockers.”
“Only if you join the army,” said Dash. “I tried. My father has no need to be busying himself or his judges with accusations of crimes before the war.” Dash shrugged. “Fact is, anyone likely to bring complaint is no longer living here. When merchants return, who is to say what was taken before the war and what was looted or lost during the sacking of the city?”
Lysle chuckled. “True. All true. However, there are those among our brethren who have the death mark on them already, and who are known to your father’s constables.”
Dash let out a long sigh. “I know, but if they’ll serve the crown, they’ll be pardoned for their crimes.”
“I’m a little old to serve, don’t you think?” asked the Upright Man.
Dash said, “I don’t think there’s anyone besides myself, Jimmy, and Father who has an inkling of who you might be. And while I’m sure there is a very long list of crimes for which you might be hung, why bother?” He looked at his great-uncle and said, “If Grandfather didn’t want you taken, why should we?”
“Your grandfather needed me alive to control the Mockers,” said Lysle. “It may be some time before the Mockers are effective enough to be in need of controlling again.” He let out a long, tired sigh. “I most certainly will not be here to see it. And I do not know if the next Upright Man, or whatever he calls himself, will care to make deals with the crown.” He pointed a finger at Dash. “You and your father are clever enough, but once I’m gone, you’ll not be able to make demands of the Mockers the way your grandfather made of me.”
Dash said, “I know. If you have nothing more, I have a great deal to do.”
The Upright Man waved him away. “We’re done, Dashel Jamison. From now on, we are Mockers and you are the Prince’s man. If you come back into the Poor Quarter after dark, you are as much at risk as any other man.”
“I understand,” said Dash. He returned to the door, then paused and said, “But if there’s something I can do without compromising my oath to the Kingdom, send me a message, will you?”
The old man laughed. “I’ll consider it. Now go.”
Dash moved into the second room and found John Turpin gone. His sword hung over the butt end of a burned-out timber. He retrieved it and moved through the next door. As he expected, Trina wasn’t in the outer part of the building either. He left the devastation of the inn and moved away. He paused a moment and tried to remember the name of that particular inn, then it came to him. It had been called the Rainbow Parrot, and it had once been owned by a friend of his grandfather’s, a man named Lucas. Caught up for a moment in reflection on old stories of his grandfather, Dash almost didn’t hear the footsteps behind him.
He spun and had his sword out before the man came within a half-dozen paces. The man coming at him was dressed like a rag picker and was thin and dirty. He came to a halt and, putting up his hands, backed away, then turned and ran.
Dash put up his sword and considered that it would be a long time before Krondor was what it once had been. Then as he left to return to the palace, he considered the Poor Quarter was probably safer now than it had been before the war.
Dash reached the palace and was again astonished by the amount of work going on; there must have been a hundred masons at work, most of whom had been soldiers serving in Duko’s army before the war. But they were making progress in getting the palace repaired. Other workers washed soot from walls, hauling away rubbish and debris, even hanging screens and other decorative touches in some of the larger rooms on the main floor. Entering the hallway, he saw Jimmy hurrying toward him. “There you are!” said Jimmy.
“What is it?”
“We’ve got troubles,” said Jimmy, turning to walk beside Dash toward the Prince’s private office suite, now being used by Duko.
“Has Fadawah discovered what we’re up to?”
“Worse,” said Jimmy.
“What?”
“Land’s End was overrun by a Keshian company.”
“Oh, gods.”
“Yes,” said Jimmy as they turned the corner and climbed stairs up toward Duko’s offices. “And there are other reports coming in. It looks like Kesh has decided to punctuate her demands for concessions with a little show of force.”
“Just what we need,” said Dash.