Krondor the Assassins by Raymond E. Feist Read Free Book Online Page A

men and animals are properly billeted.’’
    Gardan nodded in reply, then said, ‘‘That’s something I wish to discuss with you.’’ He glanced at the nobles in the Prince’s private offices and added, ‘‘But it will wait until after this evening’s business. Highness?’’ Arutha indicated his agreement.
    De Lacy said, ‘‘Two communiqueś from Great Kesh via courier arrived during your absence, Highness, informing the crown of matters of small urgency, yet they do require a formal response.’’
    Arutha waved them over to James. ‘‘Leave them. I’ll read them tonight and compose a reply first thing in the morning.’’
    De Lacy handed them to James who tucked them under his arm without looking at them.
    The Master of Ceremonies looked at the sheriff, who stepped forward and bowed. ‘‘Highness, I fear I must report a rash of black murders have been done in your city during the time you’ve been away.’’
    The Prince was silent for a moment as he considered these words, then he said, ‘‘You speak then of something warranting my personal attention? Murder is not uncommon in our city.’’
    ‘‘I do, Highness. Several men of prominence have been slain 45

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    in their beds at night, throats cut while their wives slept undisturbed beside them.’’
    Arutha glanced at James and nodded slightly. James knew what the Prince was thinking: Nighthawks.
    For nearly ten years the city had been untroubled by the Guild of Death. The assassins who had been employed by Murmandamus’s agents had vanished at the end of the Riftwar. A few months ago rumors about their return had begun to circu-late. Then they had suddenly reappeared in the Kingdom. James himself had killed their current leader, but was under no illusion that the Nighthawks would just go away. If there was another cell of them here in Krondor, they already knew of the death of one called Navon du Sandau, an erstwhile merchant from Kenting Rush. Exposing his true identity had almost gotten James killed in a duel, and it was only by dint of hours spent practicing the sword with Arutha that James had prevailed.
    Looking troubled, Arutha asked the sheriff, ‘‘What have your men uncovered?’’
    ‘‘Nothing, Highness. Of some of the victims, what you’d expect: men with enemies due to their prominence in their trade. But others were men of little significance except to their families. There is nothing of sense about these murders. They seem . . . random.’’
    Arutha sat back and weighed what he had been told. His mind turned furiously as he considered, then discarded options.
    Finally he said, ‘‘Random? It may be we simply do not understand what is behind the selection of victims. Have your men return in the morning and question the families of the victims, those who worked with them, their neighbors and anyone who may have seen them prior to their deaths. There may be some vital bit of information we are not seeing because we do not 46

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    know it is important. Send a scribe with your men to record the conversations. In all of this we may discover some connection between those murdered.’’ He sighed, fatigue evident in his features. ‘‘Return to your post, sheriff. Join me after morning court tomorrow and we’ll discuss this business at length. I’ll want your men’s reports by tomorrow evening.’’ The sheriff bowed and withdrew.
    Arutha turned to de Lacy. ‘‘What else?’’
    ‘‘Nothing that cannot wait, Highness.’’
    Arutha rose. ‘‘Court is dismissed until the tenth hour of the day tomorrow.’’ De Lacy and Jerome left the chamber, and Arutha turned to Gardan and the squires. ‘‘Now, Gardan, what is it you wished to speak with me about?’’
    ‘‘Highness, I’ve served your house since I was a boy. I’ve been a soldier and sergeant to your father, and a captain and marshal to you. It’s time I returned home to Crydee. I wish to