Raymond E. Feist - The Complete Darkwar Trilogy - Flight of the Night Hawks, Into a Dark Realm, Wrath of a Mad God

‘Doubtful,’ said Amafi, ‘but we can try. What of these?’ he said, inclining his head towards the girls.

‘Time to go, ladies,’ said Tal. ‘Now, if you wish to stay alive, do as I told you. You might increase your chances of survival if you invite some of those loud and annoying drunks to walk you back into the city.’

The girls nodded and left, saying nothing. ‘What now?’ said Amafi.

Tal reached up and pulled the window-sashes down. He ripped off the heavy cords that hemmed them and said, ‘We’ll tie him up and lower him to the ground below. If we can stay close to the side of the window the lookout at the other corner of the garden who is watching the stairs for his friend to come down, may not notice us.’

‘We can but try.’

They tied up the man, and Tal was first to climb out of the window. He hung by his hands and then let go, landing on his feet with a soft thud. He looked across the large opening into the main room and saw the lookout with his eyes trained inside, on the stairs.

He motioned for Amafi to lower the Nighthawk, and almost had the man dropped on his head. A moment later, Amafi landed hard on his backside next to Tal. ‘I’m not what I once was, Magnificence,’ he whispered.

‘Next time, you go first and I’ll drop him on you.’

‘As you say, Magnificence.’ Amafi and Tal dragged the unconscious man around the corner and down the path to the outside hedge. Amafi lowered the rope ladder and quickly climbed down. Tal threw the man over his shoulder and carefully negotiated his way to the bottom of the ladder. Then with one arm, he lowered the man to where Amafi could guide his fall.

Tal leapt onto the roof of the house and said, ‘Do we have a fast route away from this home, Amafi?’

Amafi pointed and helped Tal sling the Nighthawk over his shoulder, and they tiptoed across the roof of the house. Tal could hear tiles cracking under their boots and silently asked the owner of this fine home to forgive him when the next rains struck Kesh. He followed Amafi and prayed that they could reach the closest safe house without incident.

THE DOOR SWUNG OPEN.

Tad, Zane and Jommy all looked up from their dozing, fitful attempt at resting. A girl about the same age as the lads entered the room carrying a small kettle, a stack of bowls and under her arm, a wrapped bundle.

The three boys stood up and gave her access to the table. When she had put down her burdens, she unwrapped the bundle to display half a loaf of bread and a small wheel of cheese. ‘My father told me to bring these to you,’ she said in a low whisper. She was plump with a pretty smile, big brown eyes and long dark hair.

Jommy handed the utensils around. He shared out the soup and the girl went to look at Caleb. ‘He’s lost a lot of blood,’ she observed, ‘but his colour looks better than last night and he’s breathing well. If he wakes up, give him something to eat.’ She glanced into the kettle and said, ‘Which means leaving some of this for him, all right?’

Tad nodded and tried to talk with a mouth full of cheese. Zane said, ‘Thank you.’

Jommy said, ‘Miss, do you know what we’re supposed to do next?’

She glanced around the room and said, ‘Wait,’ then closed the door.

Kaspar hurried through the halls of the palace with Pasko at his heels. It was barely first light, yet the summons had come nearly a quarter hour earlier. He had dressed without the benefit of a bath or shave and had become very used to the Keshian practice of consuming large mugs of hot coffee in the morning with the meal and after.

He reached the office of Turgan Bey who waved him into a chair and motioned for Pasko to wait outside. The Conclave agent posing as a manservant, bowed and left the room, while Bey’s clerk closed the doors.

‘Coffee?’ asked Bey, indicating a large earthenware carafe sitting on the table next to two mugs.

Kaspar poured himself some of the hot, bitter, habit-forming drink and said, ‘Thank you. I’ve become accustomed to it in the mornings since I’ve been here.’

Bey smiled. ‘It may be even more addictive than some of the drugs you buy in the market.’ He motioned for Kaspar to follow him to the balcony overlooking the garden.

The night sky had given way to the soft grey light of dawn, with rose and silver hues foreshadowing the bright blue sky to come. It would be another hot day as the Empire approached the Midsummer festival of Banapis. Kaspar had come to expect the nights to be hot and the days to be hotter. If he didn’t think that he’d look ridiculous in Keshian garb, he would have already sent Pasko out for a linen kilt and a set of sandals.

Softly, Bey said, ‘There was some bloody work afoot last night, Kaspar.’

Kaspar said, ‘I’ve heard nothing.’

‘You’re hearing it now,’ said Bey.

‘Who died?’

‘For certain, Prince Nauka.’

Kaspar said, ‘The Emperor’s great-nephew?’

‘The same, and a staunch supporter of Sezioti.’ Bey shook his head and blew out a long breath as if he was trying to release his frustration. ‘Here’s the maddening part of it; I know that Dangai is behind this.’

‘You’re certain he’s not being used by others?’

‘When Leikesha was ruler, her son Awari was being used as a dupe by One Whose Name Is Forgotten.’

Kaspar nodded. He knew enough recent Keshian history to know that as part of his punishment for treason, Lord Niromi’s name was removed from every historical reference, and all Keshian families were now forbidden from ever naming a child Niromi.

Bey continued. ‘Dangai is no one’s dupe. He has taken complete control of the Inner Legion and if things come to a bad pass, we may even see a repeat of the last attempt to seize the throne, when Empress Leikesha’s Guards battled the Inner Legion in this very palace.’

He looked out at the garden for a moment, then turned to face Kaspar again. ‘Do you know that over one thousand officers of the Inner Legion were cast into the Overn? The crocodiles feasted for months.’ He sighed. ‘However, this time I do not know if the Palace Guard would stand against the Legion, for Sezioti is not a popular figure. Respected, yes, and even liked somewhat, but he’s not popular.’

‘Why all the bloodletting? Why not a straight appeal to the Gallery of Lords and Masters? From everything I’ve heard, it seems that Dangai would carry the day.’

‘Because we are a nation of traditions, if not of laws.’ He looked at Kaspar and said, ‘We have no tradition like the Great Freedom as they do in the Kingdom of the Isles, and here there is no confirmation of the King by the Congress of Lords. If the Emperor, blessings upon him, names Sezioti as his heir, then Sezioti is the next Emperor, or at least he will sit upon the throne until Dangai seizes it by removing his brother’s head from his shoulders.

‘But I need proof, Kaspar. I need some evidence that not only is Dangai behind this, but that he is also in league with those enemies only a few of us know exist: Varen and his Nighthawks.’

‘What can I do to help?’

‘Much more than the death of Prince Nauka occurred last night. The Mistress of Luck is a gambling hall located atop Summer Winds Hill – one of the better districts in the city – it’s also a brothel, and last night several strange things occurred there. Talwin Hawkins disappeared. He went upstairs with two whores, and was followed soon after by two men, one of them Talwin’s so-called servant, the old assassin Petro Amafi, and some time soon after that, the two girls came down alone, invited some drunken louts out and left. The room upstairs was empty, save that a cord from a curtain-sash hung from the window.