Prince of the Blood. Raymond E. Feist
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Prince of the Blood - Raymond E. Feist страница 12
The twins nodded their understanding and rose, assuming this meant they were dismissed. As Locklear and James followed suit, Arutha said, ‘James, abide a moment longer.’
The twins exchanged glances, but said nothing, and left the room with Locklear a step behind. When only Arutha, James, and Gardan remained, the Prince asked, ‘What sort of intelligence are we getting out of the city of Kesh?’
Ten years previously, Arutha had quietly asked James to begin creating an intelligence system, primarily as a means to counteract a very well established network of agents working for Kesh in the Western Realm of the Kingdom of the Isles. James had begun with his already established contacts in the Krondorian underworld. Within a year he had informants watching every ship and caravan in and out of the city as well as having identified a dozen likely recruits in the region in other cities and towns, from Land’s End up to Ylith.
A visit to Locklear’s father two years earlier had provided James with his best new agent on the border with Kesh. James had only been to Land’s End once, previously, as a boy, and used a very old acquaintance from that visit as his introduction around the city.
Bram had been the illegitimate son of the Baroness of Land’s End and his claim on the title had not been upheld by the crown, the title and estates being given to Locklear’s father. But as a reward for service done the crown, a bit of black murder which few besides James knew about, Bram, and his wife Lorri, had been set up as very wealthy farmers. By the time James reacquainted himself with them, they had established lucrative trading concerns down into Great Kesh, and finally, after years of work, James had positioned an agent in the Imperial palace.
James said, ‘I have someone as highly placed in the palace staff as possible without trying to recruit a trueblood.’ Both Arutha and Gardan knew that trying to recruit any trueblood Keshian into service for a foreign power would likely prove impossible. ‘The difficulty is sifting through rumour and gossip looking for useful information.
‘Here’s what we know,’ James continued, knowing both men had read every report he had prepared. ‘There are factions within the trueblood community with differing loyalties to the various claimants to the throne. The Empress has a daughter who is widowed, and who would normally be next in line, but for reasons we don’t yet understand is not openly acknowledged. She has a younger brother who is very popular with the military leaders. The Empress also has a granddaughter, who is very young, but who – if married to the right leader – would create even more division among the factions.’
‘Civil war,’ said Gardan. ‘If the Empress doesn’t clean up the question of succession before she dies, Kesh could be shattered.’
Arutha nodded. ‘The Confederation is always looking for an excuse to rebel, and nothing would suit them better than the Royal House of Kesh being torn apart.’
James said, ‘I’m still waiting for copies of the last year’s communications between our ambassador and your brother, Highness.’
Arutha nodded. One of his frustrations was that while he had a great deal of autonomy in dealing with the Western Realm, the Kingdom was still ruled from Rillanon, a city thousands of miles away. And while Kesh often sent envoys and ambassadors to the Western Realm as a concession to necessity, Arutha had no formal reciprocation. And for reasons not clear after years ruling Krondor, he still had trouble getting copies of the communications between the Isle’s ambassador in Kesh and the King. ‘You’ll have to wait longer, I’m afraid. By the time you return from Kesh, I expect you’ll be more informed than Lord Dougrey.’ The Kingdom’s ambassador to Kesh was a minor Earl with a talent for entertaining and a distinct lack of other gifts. ‘For he has been recalled by the King, so when you get there, you’ll have to rely on your agent in the palace, and your own wits.’
James sighed. ‘Well, at least that rids us of the problem of how to keep the ambassador busy and out from under foot.’
Arutha said, ‘We have two possibilities to consider. Either, someone wants to keep the Empire together, and what better way to avoid a civil war than by plunging the Empire into a major war with a neighbour?’
James finished. ‘Or, someone wants to use a war with the Isles or the threat of a war to pull the Empire apart.’
Gardan said, ‘And the list of those who would delight in seeing Kesh collapse is not short.’
Arutha stood. ‘I’m sending you into another mess, Jimmy. But this one has consequences as dire as any before if mistakes are made. I would not bother to inform you of the obvious, save this time you’re labouring with a grave handicap.’
James smiled. ‘Borric and Erland will be kept on a short leash.’
‘Don’t let them start a war, please?’ Then without another word, he departed, the Duke following after.
James had come to understand Arutha’s moods as well as any outside his family. A mind as complex and deep as the Prince’s was like a chess master’s; Arutha was planning every conceivable outcome as many moves in advance as possible.
James left the room and found Locklear and the twins waiting for him outside the door. ‘We leave early in the morning,’ James informed them.
Borric said, ‘We’re not due to leave for another three days.’
James said, ‘Officially. If your Keshian friend has compatriots about, I would prefer they not know our plans.’ He glanced at Locklear. ‘We’ll slip out of the palace before dawn, and gather at a tavern. Horses and supplies will be waiting for us. A small mounted troop, twenty guards, dressed as mercenaries. Couriers leave in an hour by fast horses. Arutha’s sending word to Shamata we’re going to need fresh mounts and stores enough for two hundred escorts.’
Locklear said, ‘We’ll be arriving in Shamata at the same time as any message and two hundred—’
James cut him off. ‘We’re not going to Shamata. We want any Keshian agents who might be paying attention to think we’ll travel in state to Shamata. But we’re not going to Shamata. We’re going to Stardock.’
DUST SWIRLED.
Twenty-four riders moved at a steady pace along the edge of the Great Star Lake. A week and a half of hard riding had taken them southward from Krondor, to Landreth on the north coast of the Sea of Dreams. Then, from where it entered the sea, the Star River led them further southward, the rugged mountains of the Grey Range always in sight as they entered the lush Vale of Dreams. Years of border wars between the Kingdom and the Empire had seen this rich farming land changing hands many times. Those who lived in this part of the world spoke the languages of the Southern Kingdom and the Northern Empire with equal fluency. And the sight of twenty-four armed mercenaries evoked no notice. Many armed bands of men rode the vale.
At the midpoint of the river, near a small waterfall, they forded the currents, making for the south shore. Upon reaching the headwaters of the Star River, the Great Star Lake, they turned to track the shoreline southward, seeking that point closest to the island dominating the centre of the lake, Stardock.