Krondor: Tear of the Gods. Raymond E. Feist
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William looked down despairingly. He glanced at James, who shook his head slightly, regret clearly showing in his expression. William then looked at Jazhara and entreated, ‘You were one of my father’s finest students. Can you perform a healing?’
Jazhara knelt beside the young soldier and whispered, ‘I’m sorry, William. Her wounds are too severe. Even if we were to send for a priest … it would be too late.’
James knelt on the other side of the girl. ‘Talia, who did this?’
Talia looked up at James. ‘They were after Father. I don’t know who they were. The leader was a huge bear of a man.’ She coughed and blood trickled from her mouth, staining her lips. ‘He hurt me, William. He really hurt me.’
Tears streamed down William’s cheeks. ‘Oh, Talia, I’m sorry …’
Suddenly the girl’s distress seemed to ease. James had seen this before in those on the verge of death. For a moment their eyes brightened, as if the pain had vanished, as if the dying stood upon the threshold of entering Lims-Kragma’s Hall. At this moment, they saw clearly in both worlds. Talia whispered, ‘Don’t worry, William. I swear by Kahooli, I will have my vengeance!’
Then her head lolled to one side.
‘No … Talia!’ William sobbed. For a moment he held her, and then slowly he placed her on the floor, and gently closed her eyes. At last, he rose and declared, ‘They must pay for this, James. I’m going after them.’
James looked towards the doorway of the inn. If the intruders had been seeking Talia’s father Lucas, that was the way the old man would have bolted. He said, ‘Wait, William. The Prince will have my head if I let you go off alone. You’ll have your revenge and we’ll be there beside you. Now, tell us what happened.’
William hesitated a moment then said, ‘Right. Martin and I had just ended our shift. We headed over here for a drink, just like always, and that’s when we saw them run out of the building. Half a dozen of them, with that big bastard leading them. Martin tried to halt them, and they attacked us without so much as a word. If you hadn’t come along, I’d no doubt be lying alongside Martin.’ He gestured towards the dead soldier.
James inspected the carnage. In addition to Talia, they had slaughtered everyone else in the inn. The other barmaid, Susan de Bennet, lay sprawled on the floor in the corner, her head severed completely from her body with what looked to have been a single blow. Her red tresses fanned out around her head, which lay a foot away from her body, her blue eyes still wide in shocked amazement. The other patrons were likewise hacked to pieces.
‘Why?’ asked James. ‘Why charge in and kill everyone in sight?’ He looked at William. ‘Did the big man go after Lucas?’
‘No. Some other men went out through the back. Once those five murderers backed me inside the inn, the big bastard and some others fled down the street.’
‘Do you have any idea where they were heading?’ asked James.
Before William could answer, the building seemed to rock as the night was torn by the sound of a thunderous explosion. James was first out the door, with William and Jazhara close behind him. To the west, a fountain of green flames rose into the night as rocks shot up into the air. As the sound of the explosion diminished, the rocks began to rain down. James and his companions ducked beneath the overhanging roof eaves, and waited.
When it was clear that the last of the rocks had fallen, William said, ‘Listen!’
In the distance they could hear the clash of arms and the shouts of men. They hurried towards the noise, and turned the corner that led to the city jail. As they ran towards the jail, another explosion ripped through the night and they were thrown to the ground. A tower of green fire again reached into the darkness, and James shouted, ‘Get under cover!’
Again they hugged the walls of a building as more stones rained down upon them. William shouted, ‘What is that? Quegan Fire?’
James shook his head, ‘No Quegan Fire I’ve ever seen was green.’
Jazhara said, ‘I think I know what it was.’
‘Care to share that intelligence with us?’ asked James.
‘No,’ she answered. ‘Not yet.’
As the clatter of falling stones quieted, James leapt up and they continued running towards the jail. They reached a junction with two other streets, and sprinted left. A short distance further on they came to another intersection, and it was there they saw what was left of the jail. A gaping hole in the wall stood where the wooden door had once been, a few flames could be seen inside, and smoke rose from the maw. Nearby, an overturned wagon served as cover for two guardsmen and Captain Garruth, commander of the city watch. James, William, and Jazhara approached the wagon in a running crouch, keeping the wagon between them and the opening, for crossbow bolts and arrows were flying from the hole at those behind the wagon.
Glancing back, Captain Garruth motioned for them to stay low. When James came alongside, the captain said, ‘Astalon rot their black hearts.’ He nodded to the two young men he knew and said, ‘William. Squire James.’ Without waiting for an introduction to Jazhara, the guard captain continued. ‘As you can see, we’ve a bit of a problem.’
‘What happened?’ asked James.
‘Bloody brigands! They’ve blown out the back of the jail, and cut down half my squad.’
‘Who are they?’ asked William.
‘Your guess is as good as mine, lad. The leader’s a giant of a man, bald, with a thick beard. He was wearing some sort of bone amulet, and he swung a mean sword.’
William said, ‘That’s the one, James.’
‘Which one, boy?’ asked the captain as another arrow slammed into the underside of the wagon.
James glanced at William. ‘The one that killed Talia, the barmaid at the Rainbow Parrot.’
Garruth let out a slow breath then said heavily, ‘Lucas’s girl. She is … was … such a sweet thing.’ He glanced at William. ‘My sympathies, Will.’
With cold anger, William replied, ‘I’ll have his heart, Captain. I swear I will.’
Garruth said, ‘Well, now’s your chance, lad. They’ve got us pinned down, but maybe the two of you can creep back down the way you came and circle behind the jail.’
‘Where’s the sheriff?’ asked James.
Garruth inclined his head towards the jail. ‘In there, I expect. I was due to meet with him when everything went to hell.’
James shook his head. He had little affection for Sheriff Wilfred Means, but he was a good and loyal servant of the Prince and his son Jonathan was one of James’s agents. He would discover if the younger Means was still alive later, he supposed.
‘If the sheriff and his men were inside when the bastards blew up the jail, we won’t see help here from the