Read Jimmy and the Crawler Page 6


  James looked for a place to go to ground, as he had no desire to lead these three back to the Jade Monkey.

  He found what he was looking for in some low, overhanging eaves above a stack of timber. He stepped on the wood carefully, trying not to lose his balance or make a sound, reached up and leapt. Grabbing the eaves, he pulled himself over, and moved back so that he could not be seen from the street.

  James had become frustrated at not being able to clearly identify anyone in the city who might be part of any criminal organization, so he had decided it was time to cause a fuss. Playing the part of a thief newly come to Durbin, he feigned drunkenness at several of the taverns near the docks, dropping hints along the way that he was in possession of something of value and needed the services of what was known in the criminal parlance as a ‘fence’, a dealer in stolen property.

  One burly dockworker followed him from one inn to two others and finally, when James appeared to be close to insensible from drink, told him he knew of a fellow, and would bring him if James stayed put. James nodded, instantly recognizing this for what it was, an attempt to abduct him and force him to tell the bullyboy and his lads where the valuables were stashed.

  He recognized an ambush; he just didn’t know what he faced. He waited in the tavern, having scouted it thoroughly before entering, and thus knew there were at least three escape routes, depending on how he was attacked. He was adept at sipping a little ale and spilling a lot when no one was looking, and no one was likely to notice a spreading pool of ale at his feet under the stale straw that covered the floor.

  After less than an hour, the man had returned and gestured for James to follow him outside for the introduction to the fence. Two steps outside and he knew exactly what the situation was: three men closing up on him, one following him out of the inn, one from each side. So he leapt atop a parked cart and onto the roof of the building across the street and took off, not looking to see if he was being followed, expecting that he would be. And indeed, moments later he had heard grunts of exertion and curses behind him, and knew he was off on a chase he knew well.

  Lying flat on the rooftop, he waited to see if his two remaining pursuers were smart enough to work out he had lost them, and backtrack. James hoped so, for he needed to follow them, and have them lead him back to whoever employed them. If they gave up the hunt somewhere else in the city, all this exertion would have been for naught.

  Then a flickering shadow on the rooftop across the street caught his eye. He waited, not moving, to see what was there. He almost willed the gloom to reveal what it masked while he kept track of his pursuers by ear. He could hear their footfalls echoing into the distance and when he could no longer hear them, he waited to hear them return.

  A boy’s lifetime of being a thief had taught James patience far beyond his years; if need be, he could lie motionless for hours, ignoring the plague of distractions that a less practised man would find maddening: an itch to scratch, the desire to shift position, hunger and even thirst. On more than one occasion his life had depended on that skill.

  Time dragged on but James was convinced there was someone hidden in the blackness across from him, almost certainly just on the other side of the roof’s peak, sheltered against the remote possibility that an observer might catch sight of him. That gave James pause, and worse, a dread certainty that he knew who was mere yards from his hiding place. And if he was right, he prayed to Ruthia the Goddess of Luck he had not been seen pulling himself up on the roof moments before he had spied that movement. Then he thought if he had been seen, most likely he would be dead.

  After another long five minutes, James heard the sound of footfalls approaching, lightly, slowly, cautiously. His two would-be captors were indeed retracing their steps, trying to ascertain where he might have given them the slip. He heard whispers, though he couldn’t make out the words. Their tone was frustrated and urgent. Someone wanted the drunken, loud-mouthed thief and wanted him badly.

  As they neared, James saw a hint of movement on the opposite roof, then abruptly a figure came over the peak of the roof, half slid down the eaves, and with an effortless, fluid move, pulled a short bow off his back. In an almost inhuman act of speed and precision, two arrows were loosed and the two men chasing James lay dead on the cobbles.

  James tried even harder to blend into the roof tiles and fought back the urge to either run or slip backwards. Any movement would surely instantly end his existence.

  Time dragged and then suddenly the archer was gone. James didn’t move. He closed his eyes for a second, then looked again. It was fully five more minutes before he dared move enough to glance over the eaves into the street. Below lay the two men, pools of blood spreading around them, each with an arrow through the throat, which had denied them even the opportunity to cry out.

  James rolled over and looked up at a blank sky, the stars hidden by the marine clouds that came in from the Bitter Sea. He let out a slow breath and gathered his wits.

  The archer’s identity was unknown to him, but he was a Nighthawk, a member of the Brotherhood of Assassins, a group with which James was all too familiar. He and Prince Arutha had seen the destruction of their hideout in an abandoned fortress miles to the south.

  He waited for another five minutes, thinking how like rats they were. If you didn’t get them all in their nest, they were out in the sewers or on the rooftops, breeding.

  ‘Damn,’ James whispered to himself. At last he slowly got to his feet, looking around for any possible attack. When none came, he lowered himself from the eaves and dropped to the stones, quickly vanishing into the night.

  • CHAPTER SEVEN •

  Departure

  JAMES YAWNED.

  William and Jazhara glanced around the common room of the Jade Monkey, which was quiet at the moment, as the workers were out securing materials. One table had been erected in the corner and three chairs provided, and Gina had had a newly hired porter fetch a meal from a nearby establishment.

  ‘You need sleep,’ said Jazhara.

  ‘I’ll get some, just not any time soon.’ James’s gaze travelled between the faces of his two dinner companions. ‘You ready to leave, Willy?’

  William nodded. ‘I’ve found us escorts, and Jazhara’s family is camped at an oasis only three days away.’

  James considered. ‘Who did you find?’

  ‘Izmalis,’ said Jazhara.

  James closed his eyes for a moment. ‘They’re a little too close to being Nighthawks for my liking.’

  Jazhara said, ‘They work for my uncle.’

  ‘Of course they do.’ His face took on a calculating expression. ‘How many?’

  ‘A dozen, all hard-nosed veterans, from what I can judge,’ said William. ‘We’re going to move as quickly as we can, but stop after a day’s ride to see if we’re being followed. If we are, we’ll continue on to Jazhara’s family and assume no one who means us ill will blunder into a camp of over a hundred desert fighters. And if no one follows us, we’ll send the Izmalis on without us, double back and be waiting at that wadi a half-day’s ride to the southwest.’

  James nodded. He knew it well, having passed through it on his way to the Valley of Lost Men and the ancient fortress known as the Tomb of the Hopeless. ‘If I need you, I’ll send a message. You’ll know it’s me and not some trap because the messenger will tell you “James has lost his way”, and if he says anything else, kill him and flee. I will already be captive or dead.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Jazhara.

  ‘I’ve got this bad feeling that we’re dealing with the same crew we tangled with in Krondor when we were trying to get back the Tear of the Gods, the same lot who tried to grab that wrecker Kendaric, to get him to raise the Ishapian ship.’

  ‘Bear’s crew?’ asked William.

  ‘Bear’s boss, or bosses. There was a lot about that entire fiasco that really doesn’t make sense, and I’m not sure that magician who helped you was really who he said he was.’ Then he ad
ded, ‘There was something about that fellow . . .’

  James shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter, because what I know is that there were Nighthawks and demons involved then, and there were Nighthawks and demons involved down at the Tomb of the Hopeless, and if there are Nighthawks here, then we can probably expect a demon or two.’

  James stood up. ‘I’m going to visit a couple of temples and see if I can find someone who knows more about demons than I do – which should probably mean anyone I talk with – and see if there’s some means by which we can find out if there is demonic magic at play. Then I’m going to see if I can do something impossibly stupid.’

  ‘Go looking for the Nighthawks?’ asked William.

  ‘First try, Willy.’

  Jazhara said, ‘William, would you give James and me a moment alone, please?’

  William glanced at her for the briefest moment and then nodded, and left the inn to wait outside. When he was gone, Jazhara said, ‘William will be anxious to return.’

  James raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘He’s young and doesn’t want to be left out of the struggle. But why the sudden concern, Jazhara? Willy’s been through more than men twice his age.’

  She smiled. ‘I know. But that encounter on the bluffs with Bear, when William was filled with the power of Kahooli . . .’ She shrugged. ‘He doesn’t speak of it.’

  ‘Willy spent just about his entire life on an island full of magic-users. He was used to seeing miraculous things by the time he was ten years old.’ He saw that she was unconvinced. ‘What is this really about, Jazhara?’

  ‘He . . .’ She sighed. ‘We were lovers some years ago on Stardock. It didn’t end well. I do not know what this . . . new thing between us is, but I know my feelings have changed. He was a wonderful boy then; now he’s a man. A man who’s seen much and braved much and . . . I think he has lived up to his promise. I just do not wish to see that cut short because of his unwillingness to be cautious.’

  James nodded. ‘I’ll do what I can, but you must remember, first he is a sworn servant of the prince, and second he is a soldier. Danger is part of the bargain.’ Then he grinned. ‘Still, Willy’s not as foolhardy as Locky, who you’ll meet one of these days.’ His grin broadened. ‘And if he hasn’t changed much, he will be very pleased to make your acquaintance, though I’m sure that will seriously annoy Willy.’

  She laughed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Willy. That name.’

  James returned the laugh. ‘As I said, it’s a habit Locky and I picked up from the twins, Borric and Erland. We’re Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Locky, and William is Cousin Willy. It just sort of stuck. Some of the soldiers do call him Will, but mostly it’s William.’

  ‘Will?’ She considered that for a moment, then said, ‘I’ll continue to call him William.’

  James laughed. ‘Whatever makes you happy, Jazhara.’

  He walked with her outside and called, ‘Willy?’

  ‘James?’

  James lowered his voice. ‘I want to amend something. If no message is forthcoming, don’t come looking for me. Come back here and see if I left anything with Gina and then, either way, return to the prince. If I vanish, that will tell us this Crawler is far more dangerous than we thought. The prince will need to know about the Nighthawks as well.’

  William frowned. ‘I thought that went without saying.’

  James smiled. ‘I just wanted to make sure. I didn’t want you attempting some ill-conceived search.’

  William glanced at Jazhara, then nodded. ‘I see.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll do as you ask, James.’

  ‘Good,’ said James. He looked around. ‘Where are your Izmalis?’

  ‘At the east gate next to the caravanserai. We have horses and supplies there waiting for us.’

  ‘Then be off!’

  As they left, James let out a long sigh. He had no problem with the two of them falling into bed together, but he had serious reservations about them falling in love.

  Returning to the Jade Monkey, he wondered at this improbable thing called love. He was certain that he’d only seen it once in his life, and that was between Prince Arutha and Princess Anita, and he judged this wonderful mystery was as rare an occurrence as those two people. It might be nice to feel that way about someone, some day, he thought as he caught sight of Gina coming out of her little office at the back of the inn, but until that day, he’d be content with taking his pleasure where he found it.

  Gina noticed him watching her and smiled. He returned the smile and considered for a brief moment following up on the implied invitation. Then he realized he had too much work ahead of him, and headed upstairs to plan his next foray into the city that night.

  • CHAPTER EIGHT •

  Instruction

  THE MONK LEANED FORWARD.

  ‘The thing about demons,’ Brother Eli said, then paused to take another draught from a large tankard of ale, ‘is they’re sneaky bastards.’

  After Jazhara and William had departed, James had spent the afternoon at several of the temples in Durbin. By Krondor’s standards they were modest at best, hovels at worst, but their followers were as devoted as those in the largest temples in Rillanon. To James’s amusement and amazement, the man he sought out was made manifest in this rotund monk of Banath – Ban-ath, as he was called in Kesh, as opposed to Ba-nath as he was known in the Kingdom – patron god of thieves, liars, gamblers, as well as a few more socially appreciated trades. He was also the god of risk takers and those inclined to rely more on their skills and cunning than the random whim of Ruthia, Goddess of Luck.

  In striking up a conversation at the shrine, James discovered Brother Eli to be an affable fellow, well disposed to indulge James’s curiosity so long as it was over a tankard of ale. Several tankards, if the progress of his story-telling was any indication.

  ‘What do you mean, sneaky?’ asked James. ‘I’ve had a few run-ins with demons and they were a little too large, nasty and loud to be called sneaky.’

  ‘Ah,’ said the portly monk. He pointed a meaty finger at the former thief. ‘I took you to be one who formerly trod the dodgy path, young sir.’ He fixed James with a squint which caused the two bushy red eyebrows above his pale blue eyes to wiggle like caterpillars. His almost-bald pate was surrounded by a ginger fringe, and apparently the hot sun of Kesh’s north shore had given him a perpetually sunburned scalp. ‘Come to better circumstances, by the look of you,’ he finished.

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Only the foolish – and you do not appear to be such a one – and those devoid of luck – and again you do not strike me as such – and those who are in the wrong place run afoul of demons.’ With a barking laugh, he added, ‘As we’ve already disposed of ill luck as a reason, you had to want to be in the wrong place.’

  James laughed, remembering the three times he had run into demons, at a distant abbey, in an abandoned fortress full of killers, and in a basement. ‘I can promise you, brother, I had no desire to be where I found myself at that time.’

  ‘Why don’t I believe you?’

  ‘Given your calling, one can wonder,’ said James.

  ‘It’s true,’ said the monk, indicating that his tankard was empty. As Jimmy signalled to Gina to fetch another, Brother Eli continued, ‘We who serve the Trickster as well as we can, well, let’s say our flock is not one predisposed to trust.’

  James found the man’s candour refreshing. The high-ranking prelates of Ban-ath in Krondor were a sanctimonious lot who avowed that their god was as essential to the natural order of things as any other god or goddess. James took no issue with matters of faith. He had prayed to the god of thieves on more than one occasion when his life hung in the balance, and even made votive offerings after surviving a few lucky escapes, but he took that as a duty more than devotion.

  Gina appeared with a fresh tankard. ‘It’s a necessary thing, don’t you see, to accept all the whims of nature, and our god is as much a part of the natural order as any o
ther. Those who are able take from those who are less able. It’s the way things are.’

  ‘Demons,’ said James, getting him back on topic. ‘Sneaky bastards?’

  ‘Yes,’ said the now red-cheeked cleric, after draining off the new tankard. ‘See, I had this brother who heard the calling to Sung, the Pure, and he became a demon hunter. Didn’t see him much for years, then we both ended up here.’

  James nodded.

  ‘We caught up on old times, some family lore, and over the years when he was in Durbin from time to time he’d stay with me at my hovel behind the shrine. Not much in Durbin for those pure of heart, don’t you see? Not a lot of support for that temple. Anyway, he’d tell me this or that about demons and their doings and the like.’

  ‘Sneaky?’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ said Brother Eli, waving Gina to bring him yet another tankard without bothering to ask James. ‘See, for reasons no one seems to understand, some demons want to be here, doing whatever mischief they can. Lots of theories as to why, you see, but no one really knows. The kind you spoke of – big, loud, angry – those are the conjured ones, the ones yanked out of the lower hell and brought here against their will to do the summoner’s bidding. Lots of stories about it all coming to a bloody end.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Nasty business, that. But some demons – the sneaky ones – they find a way here without being summoned. Now the lore says that each time a demon appears without being summoned and is unconfined, heaven sends an angel to hunt it down. If they come to blows, as soon as one is vanquished the other returns to heaven or hell as the case may be. Doesn’t matter who wins; they just cancel each other out, so to speak.’

  ‘Interesting,’ said James.

  ‘But that’s not what you were asking about, is it?’

  James shook his head.

  ‘See, those you were talking about, those are the corporeal demons, from another realm, and they need magic to survive here, either their own or the summoner’s. Some can rampage around a bit and cause a fair amount of havoc without it before they vanish back to their realm or an angel arrives, but there’s another kind.’