Part 7 (1/2)

The tiny cell was pitch-black, until they brought the torch in with them. It was colder than the corridor outside and smelled of mould and human waste.

On the floor was a thin pallet of filthy straw and on the pallet, beneath a single ragged blanket, lay a man. His face was waxen pale, eyes and cheeks deeply sunken and his breathing rasped and gurgled as if each one was a struggle.

Flora breathed an 'Ooooh' of sympathy and crouched by the man's side. She took one of his hands in hers and immediately began to chafe it. 'He's so cold, Jimmy.' She turned and looked up at him. 'Go and get that guard's cloak.'

Jimmy raised his brows; he hadn't expected her to start nursing anybody. But if this was the Prince he'd need to be a lot more active than he was if they were to get him out of here. He placed the torch in an iron bracket by the door and went to do as she'd asked.

When he returned she said, 'Let's get some of that under him. This straw's no protection at all from the floor.'

Jimmy nodded, but he was dismayed to find the man still unconscious. How were they going to know they had the right prisoner if he couldn't tell them? The young thief had only ever seen the Prince from a distance and he'd been healthier then, by far, than this man.

He slipped an arm under the prisoner's head and shoulders and heaved, almost sending him flying, for he weighed nothing at all, as if his body was made of sticks and air.

'Well, if we have to carry him we can,' he muttered.

'But, Jimmy, he's so ill,' Flora said. She tucked the cloak around her patient's emaciated body. Then she threw up her hands in despair. 'Just listen to his breathing, it's pneumonia, no doubt, and he's got a fever.'

'And we don't know if he's the Prince,' Jimmy said grimly.

'Who are you children?' the man whispered, and he opened his fever-bright eyes upon them.

Then he coughed, long and hard, curling into himself until the spasm pa.s.sed, his face contorted with pain. When it was over he lay back with a careful sigh. His two would-be rescuers watched him with wincing sympathy that turned to solemn looks when he opened his eyes again.

'Well?'

'We're Mockers,' Jimmy said. 'Who are you?'

The man formed the word Mockers Mockers with his lips, but didn't say it. Then he grinned, a truly terrible expression on his pale and wasted features. 'I,' he said breathlessly, carefully separating his words, 'am Prince Erland of Krondor.' with his lips, but didn't say it. Then he grinned, a truly terrible expression on his pale and wasted features. 'I,' he said breathlessly, carefully separating his words, 'am Prince Erland of Krondor.'

They could see the pride in the man, even under these sordid conditions.

'Have you got anything to drink?' Flora asked. 'His lips are so dry.'

Jimmy shook his head. 'I'll check the guard.'

He was back in a moment and handing a flask to Flora.

'I think it's wine,' he said.

Flora lifted the Prince's head and brought the flask to his lips.

'Thank you,' Erland said after a long drink. He raised his brows. 'That was rather good, and I haven't had anything since they moved me down here this morning.'

It might have been his imagination but it seemed to Jimmy that the Prince's colour was better. Erland indicated that he would like more and Flora gave it to him.

'We've come to get you out of here, uh, your highness highness,' Jimmy said. At least he thought highness was the right thing to call him. He was pretty sure that your majesty majesty was totally wrong. was totally wrong.

But the Prince shook his head. 'There's little point.' He smiled at them. 'Not that I don't appreciate your efforts, young Mockers. But,' he paused to catch his breath, 'I will not live much longer.' He cleared his throat and the fear that he might cough was in his eyes. When no such fit took place he continued speaking. 'I have been ill for a long time, and I am tired. Putting me here will only hasten my death, but death is coming, no matter where I am.' He closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. 'The priests and chirurgeons have done all they can, but there is a sickness inside my lungs that is slowly eating away at me.' His face was so drawn and pale, Jimmy would have thought him confined for years, not hours, so he judged the Prince a man very much close to death. 'Much too tired to make the effort to escape. But you should.' He smiled at them.

Jimmy knew the Prince was right for somehow he could see the man's death in his worn face.

'Your wife!' Flora said. 'We could help her escape.'

'She's under guard up in our apartment,' Erland said. 'You could never reach her.' He took a long, slow breath, trying to avoid another coughing fit. 'Del Garza ordered me put here when my daughter fled the castle. She's hiding somewhere in the city. He thinks that by threatening me with a cold death, she'll return without him tearing apart the city and starting a civil riot.'

'No, sir,' said Jimmy. 'She's not in the city. She's three days or more gone by s.h.i.+p to Crydee, with Prince Arutha.'

'Arutha!' said Erland, then he was racked by another coughing attack. When he could speak, he said, 'How is it the Prince of Crydee was here?'

Jimmy quickly recounted what he knew, that Arutha and his companions had come to Krondor to seek Erland's aid in the next spring campaign against the invading Tsurani, and had found the city under martial law and Guy du Bas-Tyra's rule. That they had tried to lie low while a.s.sessing what was in play in Krondor, and had come under observation of both Radburn's secret police and the Mockers; the Mockers had barely got to Arutha first.

He finished quickly by telling of the night fight at the docks and the successful departure of the Sea Swift, Sea Swift, and the likelihood that Anita was safely away from Krondor if she hadn't been returned by now. and the likelihood that Anita was safely away from Krondor if she hadn't been returned by now.

'Thank you for that,' said the Prince. 'That is comforting. If du Bas-Tyra returns to word my daughter is out of the city, he will almost certainly return me to the comfort of my apartments and the good ministry of my wife. I couldn't ask for better news than to know my daughter in safety with the son of Borric of Crydee.

'Now, you must go. The guard will rouse or another will come soon, and you must not be here. Return the wineskin and cloak as you found them. The guard must think he fell asleep. No matter what else, no one must know you saw me. If word reached the city I was near death, foolishly loyal men might seek to free me. Bloodshed on behalf of one already near death is pointless. Promise you'll not mention this visit to anyone?'

They both said they would keep silent.

With surprising strength, Prince Erland demanded, 'Not even to one another, lest someone overhear. Your oath!'

Jimmy blinked in surprise, but said, 'By Ruthia and Banath, my oath, highness.'

Flora repeated the same oath and the Prince relaxed somewhat. 'Good. Now go.'

Jimmy quickly returned the cloak and wineskin to the guard, taking a moment to pour a bit on the man's face and down his tunic so that his sergeant would be less inclined to believe any stories about unexplainable slumbers, and turned to look back before he closed the cell door. He saw the Prince seem to shrink, becoming even smaller as he lay back and closed his eyes, and something in his heart twinged.

The two Mockers moved swiftly back to the large cell, not meeting anyone on the way. Inside they found the floor covered with sand.

'Where did this come from?' Flora wondered. 'I swear it wasn't here before.'

Jimmy looked up at the ceiling nervously, but it seemed solid. Then he looked over at the hole in the centre of the cell and saw a flood of sand pouring down through it. Oh Oh, he thought and his heart sank. Asher had kept mumbling about 'Something...' Apparently the 'something' he'd forgotten was how much of the potion to use. Maybe only a part of a drop, while Jimmy had dumped the entire contents! It looked as if the potion was far more powerful than Jimmy had antic.i.p.ated.

Which might just mean that the ceiling would be coming down imminently.

'Let's go!' Jimmy said, giving Flora a shove.

She turned and gave him one back.

'Now, Flora! Before this whole place comes down on us!'

The girl stared at him, her eyes wide. 'Magic!' she said. 'You used magic!'

'What else?' he asked and thrust the rope into her hands. 'Now go!'