Roo nodded.
The trade delegate had been speaking for nearly an hour, and Roo had sensed the entire course of negotiations within the first five minutes, but protocol dictated he endure the entire presentation before declining the opportunity. Roo wished the man would come to the end, as he knew this meeting was entirely pointless.
Since seizing control of the grain market in the Western Realm of the Kingdom, Roo had seen the control of his various companies, especially the Bitter Sea Company, grow by the month, until he had only one rival in the Western Realm in commerce: Jacob Esterbrook.
The one area where Jacob completely dominated was in trade with Kesh. The profitable luxury trade with the Empire was like a locked room to Roo, and no attempt of his to gain a foothold in that lucrative market had resulted in anything more than a minor contract or a marginally profitable trade.
He had again sought to gain a concession into Kesh, but now he was being told at great length by this minor Keshian functionary that his latest attempt would come to naught.
At long last the man finished, and Roo smiled at him. ‘So, to put it another way, the answer is no.’
The trade delegate blinked as if seeing something for the first time and said, ‘Oh, I think it too harsh to simply say “no,” Mr Avery.’ He put the tips of his fingers together. ‘It is far closer to the truth to say that such an arrangement is not feasible at this time. However, that is not to say that at some future date such an accommodation might not be possible.’
Roo glanced out the window of the upper floor of Barret’s Coffee House. Night was approaching. ‘The afternoon is late, sir, and I still have much to do before enjoying my evening meal. May I say that when next we speak, I plan on starting a great deal earlier in the day.’
The Keshian rose, his expression showing Roo’s humor was completely lost on him, and bowed slightly, then departed.
Duncan Avery, Roo’s cousin, sat almost asleep in the corner, and stretched as he rose. ‘Finally,’ he said.
Luis de Savona, Roo’s general manager, said, ‘I agree. Finally.’
Roo said, ‘Well, we had to try.’ He sat back in his chair, glanced at the coffee and rolls that had sat upon the table for hours and were now cold and stale, and said, ‘Someday I’m going to figure out how Jacob has such a stranglehold on Keshian trade. It’s almost as if …’ He left the thought unfinished.
‘As if what?’ asked Duncan.
Luis glanced at Roo’s cousin. The two men barely got along, though they remained civil with one another. Luis, a former comrade-in-arms with Roo, was hardworking, conscientious, and meticulous in every detail of whatever task lay before him. Duncan was lazy, paid no attention to detail, and was in Roo’s employ only because he was his cousin. He was also charming, funny, and an excellent swordsman, and Roo enjoyed his company.
Luis said, ‘When did you become interested in trade?’
Duncan shrugged. ‘Roo started to say something. I just wondered what. That’s all.’
Roo said, ‘Never mind. I have some things I need to investigate.’
Duncan said, ‘Anything you want me to do?’
Roo shook his head. ‘No, but I need to speak to Duke James.’ He stood, walked to the rail, and shouted down, ‘Dash?’
‘Yes, Mr Avery,’ came the response from below. Dash looked up from a Bitter Sea Company desk where he was going over shipping invoices with two of Roo’s scribes. ‘What can I do for you, sir?’ While informal when alone with his employer, Dash always observed the formalities at Barret’s and other public places.
‘I need to see your grandfather at his earliest convenience.’
‘Now?’ said Dash, half rising.
Roo waved him back into his chair. ‘Tomorrow is soon enough.’
From the doorway a voice said, ‘Now would be better.’
Dash looked up as Roo craned his neck to see who spoke, and Dash said, ‘Grandfather!’
The Duke of Krondor entered, flanked by two palace guardsmen. A general stir sounded in the lower floor and several of the members rose and bowed slightly as word of the visitor spread. James came to the railing that prevented non-members from entering the trading floor, and one of the guards opened the gate. James passed through and mounted the stairs to the upper floor of Barret’s. It was a tremendous breach of protocol for a non-member to do so unless he was there on business, but Roo decided it wasn’t the time to inform the most powerful noble in the Kingdom of that detail.
James spoke to Luis and Duncan. ‘Leave us.’ He leaned over the railing and said, ‘Dash, ensure we’re undisturbed.’
Dash moved to the foot of the stairs and tried not to grin as he saw his grandfather’s guards also take up position at the foot of the stairway.
Keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard below, James said, ‘It’s time for us to do some business.’
Roo didn’t like the sound of that, but he shrugged. ‘Sooner or later.’
‘I need two million golden sovereigns.’
Roo blinked. His net worth was several times that, but he wasn’t that liquid. To put his hands on that much gold would require some restructuring of his business. ‘How soon do you need it?’
‘Yesterday, but tomorrow will suffice.’
‘And the interest?’
James smiled. ‘Whatever you like, within reason. You understand that we may not be in a position to repay this loan.’
Roo nodded. ‘If you can’t repay this loan, I doubt I’ll be in a position to complain.’
James said, ‘How soon can I see the gold?’
‘I can have a half-million golden sovereigns at the palace by the end of business tomorrow. The other million and a half will take a few days to arrange. I’m going to overtax most of the moneylenders in the city. I’m going to have to do some business in the East, as well.’ Leaning back, he said, ‘Would you do me the courtesy of a bit more advance notice next time, Your Grace?’
‘No,’ said James. ‘Things come up.’
‘Speaking of which,’ said Roo, ‘I just got another trade concession rejected by the Keshian trade legate. Is there anything you can do to help me overcome this problem?’
‘Possibly,’ said James. ‘Right now we’re doing a lot of business with Kesh.’
‘The gold?’ asked Roo, raising an eyebrow in question.
‘A very fat bribe for several well-placed Keshian nobles.’
‘Very fat,’ agreed Roo. ‘Are you attempting to overthrow the Emperor?’
James stood. ‘It would take a great deal more gold than that to even dream of such a move. There may not be enough gold in existence to overthrow Great Kesh.’ James hesitated, then said, ‘So you know. We have a southern border to worry about.’
Roo nodded. ‘I figured out that much by myself.’ He stretched and stood up. ‘I am interested in how you propose to deal with Kesh during the coming invasion.’
‘I’m working on several different contingencies,’ said James. ‘But one of them is to ensure that enough Keshian soldiers are in the right place to encourage the Emerald Queen’s army to stay where we want them.’
Roo nodded. ‘No sweeps south of Krondor, up into the mountains from the Vale of Dreams.’
‘Something like that. That sort of move would require that the Emerald Queen overrun the dwarves at Dorgin, which has never been done.’ James smiled ruefully. ‘But even old King Halfdan’s army would be put to rout by this host, I’m afraid.’
Roo shrugged. He had heard stories of the dwarves’ fierceness in warfare, but had never met one of them.
As James turned to leave, Roo came around the desk. ‘No need to see me to the door,’ said the Duke. ‘I can find my own way.’
As he reached the top of the stairs, he said, ‘Oh, by the way, stop trying to squirrel away your wealth in the East and the Free Cities. I’m going to need most of it for the war.’
Roo didn’t even attempt to look shocked or deny the truth; he had been taking small amounts of capital and moving it quietly out of Krondor. ‘Very well,’ he said with honest resignation in his voice. ‘Trying to outfox you is a waste of energy.’
James nodded. ‘Don’t forget it.’
He left and Roo stood alone, wondering again at his failed attempt to get a trade concession into Kesh. He had a theory, and he needed to put it to the test, but right now he had a more immediate concern: how to raise a huge amount of gold quickly without causing every moneylender in the city to double his interest rates.
He sighed as he thought about his planned visit to Sylvia. He would have to give Duncan a note to take to her, since he would be here until well past midnight. He sat down and started to write.
Once done, he called down to Dash. When Dashel was standing before him, Roo said, ‘Give this to Duncan to take to the Esterbrook house. He’ll know what to do.’ Roo stretched again. ‘Then please send word to my wife that your grandfather is keeping me too busy to come home for the next few days.’ Actually, Roo had already told his wife he was staying in the city to work, but had planned on seeing Sylvia that night. Now he felt obliged to see Sylvia the next night, or the one after that, before returning home.
Roo glanced out the window at the sunset, and he heard the city noises outside as the day wound down and shops began to close. ‘I need to take a break before I start doing your grandfather’s bidding,’ said Roo, standing up. ‘I think I’ll pay a visit to Helen Jacoby and her children.’
Dash nodded. ‘After that?’
‘I’m going to Avery and Son’s for an hour or so this evening,’ and with a sour face he added, ‘Then it’s back here. I’ll most likely be here all night.’
Dash nodded. ‘Anything else?’
‘No, that’s all. Come back here first thing in the morning. I expect I’ll have a great deal for you to do. Have Jason come along, as well.’
As Dash hurried toward the door, Roo walked down the stairway. He reached the entrance to Barret’s and considered crossing the street to his town house, to saddle up a horse and ride over to Helen’s. Then he decided he’d rather walk.
He wended his way through the busy streets. Roo never tired of the crowds and clamor of the city. A smalltown boy, he saw Krondor as a never-ending source of stimulation. Just by walking he could refresh himself and conceive of anything being possible. But today as he walked, the distant specter of the Emerald Queen and her approaching host intruded on his appreciation of the robust city.
On one level, he knew that eventually Krondor would be attacked, probably overrun. He had seen what happened when her conquering General Fadawah crushed a city: he had barely escaped the destruction of distant Maharta. He knew it was coming. He had a faint hope the Kingdom army, far better trained and more dedicated than anything encountered by the invaders, might keep them out of Krondor, but he recognized it was probably a vain hope.
On another level, the coming seemed an impossibility. He was rich beyond even his boyish dreams of avarice; he possessed the most beautiful woman in the world; and he had a son. Nothing remotely evil could be allowed to touch that perfection.
Roo stopped. He had been so intent on his imagining, he had neglected to turn on the street that led to Helen Jacoby’s home. He turned and thought he saw a figure duck out of sight. He quickened his steps and turned the corner, and glanced both ways.
Shopkeepers were closing for the day, and workers were hurrying along, either on their final errands for their masters, or to home or a friendly inn. But the figure he had glimpsed was nowhere to be seen.
Roo shook his head. It must be fatigue, he thought. But he couldn’t shake off the feeling he had been followed. He glanced around, then set off toward the Jacoby house.
He thought it had to be the realization that the Emerald Queen’s fleet was getting ready to sail. He didn’t have any direct intelligence, but he knew enough to understand it was a certainty.
He’d watched as her army had swept over the continent of Novindus, and had sat in council while plans were made to defend the Kingdom against her attack. He could read the signs. He provided as much transport as any firm in the Kingdom; he knew where the supplies were being stored; he knew where the shipments of arms and reserve horses were being readied. He knew the attack was coming soon.
It was early fall in Krondor, which meant it was spring on the other side of the world; soon the massive fleet would be loading, and would start its months-long voyage. Time and again Roo had heard Admiral Nicholas talk about the dangers of sailing through the Straits of Darkness. Difficult in the mildest of weather, it was nearly impossible in the winter. To bring so large a fleet through safely, the ideal time would be almost exactly upon Banapis, Midsummer’s Day. Tides and winds would make the narrow passage between the Endless Sea and the Bitter Sea clement enough for those inexperienced ship masters who must be in command of the bulk of the fleet. Given the wholesale carnage visited on Novindus by the Queen that Roo knew about, he couldn’t imagine there were six hundred competent captains left alive down there. Besides the wholesale devastation her conquest had visited upon the populace, Novindus boasted no deep-water sailors; they were all coast huggers, captains who didn’t suspect there was a land across the sea until Nicholas and his crew had visited there twenty years before.
Roo also suspected Nicholas had a surprise or two in store for the visitors when they attempted to clear the Straits, which was why Roo had made the journey to Queg. The only reason Duke James might require Quegan ships to act as escort for Kingdom merchants would be if the entire Royal Navy was busy elsewhere. No, Nicholas would have something waiting for the invaders as they pushed through the Straits.
He reached the Jacoby house and put the troubling thoughts of invaders behind him for a while. He knocked.
Helen Jacoby answered his knock, and Roo said, ‘I hope you don’t mind an unannounced visit?’
She laughed and Roo was struck by how nice that sounded. ‘Rupert, of course not. You are always welcome here.’
From behind came the sound of her children calling his name, and Roo found himself struck by a refreshed feeling he seldom experienced elsewhere. ‘Uncle Rupert!’ said Willem, the five-year-old. ‘Did you bring me something?’
‘Willem!’ said his mother. ‘That’s no way to treat a guest.’
‘He’s no guest,’ said Willem indignantly. ‘He’s Uncle Rupert!’ Seven-year-old Nataly rushed forward and threw her arms around his waist in a welcoming hug.
Rupert smiled at the boy’s brashness and the girl’s affection as Helen moved to close the door behind him. As it latched, he realized something: if his calculations were accurate, the invaders would be in sight of Kingdom soil in seven months.
Acting Corporal Garret had looked dubious, but he accepted Erik’s orders without comment. After questioning Duga and his men all the previous day, Erik had decided on a course of action. He ordered Garret to lead half the men requisitioned from the Border Barons on a slow march to Krondor, while Erik kept the remaining half with himself. They had turned in their tabards when they left their previous commands, but they still looked like soldiers.
Erik then had them swapping clothing with the captured mercenaries, and after a while judged the results sufficiently chaotic to give the illusion of this being a very large company of mercenaries.
Duga gave his approval: ‘They look like my boys.’
Erik had spent the previous evening talking with Duga. He had come to like the man, a simple no-nonsense captain with a company of eighty men who had come to realize they were in over their heads. It had taken all night, but Erik had at last convinced him that it was in his own best interest to give more than his parole; rather, he should switch sides. Several of his men seemed dubious, and Erik had marked those and sent them off with Garret’s squad, while the rest stayed with Erik and Duga.
Later that same day, the second contingent of Kingdom soldiers had ridden past, and Erik instructed them to follow Garret’s company. When Duga saw the third company of two hundred come past early the next morning, he commented that he and his men had been led to believe they were invading a country of weak, ill-prepared cities.
Erik had gone on at great length, patiently explaining how things were different here in the Kingdom, and while he downplayed the relative sizes of the two armies, he emphasized the training and equipment of the Kingdom soldiers. Fortunately for his case, he had been aided by the sight of six hundred of the toughest veterans in the King’s Army riding by.
Duga gladly accepted the rations carried by Erik’s men, which they shared for breakfast. ‘You know,’ he commented as he ate, ‘there’s not a lot keeping the Queen’s army together but fear.’
Erik nodded. ‘I saw that at Maharta.’
‘It’s gotten worse.’ He glanced around. ‘Some of the captains tried to desert after that, when we got word we were turning east toward the City of the Serpent River.’
‘I heard what happened,’ said Erik. Prince Patrick’s spies had reported about the captains being impaled along with some randomly selected soldiers.
‘It’s as if we’re all guarding each other. No one wants to be there, but everyone’s afraid to say anything.’ He shook his head. ‘No, if you say the wrong thing to the wrong man, you’ve got a stake pounded up your arse.’
Erik considered his next question. ‘Has anyone asked why you’re sent halfway around the world?’
‘There’s nothing left at home,’ he said. ‘Not much plunder when a city’s burned to the ground.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I don’t believe this, but those snakes that stay close to the Queen have been telling everyone who’d listen that this is the richest place in the world, that there’s this city called Sethanon’ – he pronounced it ‘Seeth-e-non’ – ‘where the streets are marble, the door handles and latches are all gold, and they use silk for curtains.’ He sighed. ‘After what I’ve seen for the last ten years, I can understand why men want to believe, but you’ve got to elect to be stupid to believe that nonsense.’ He lowered his voice even more. ‘Some of the captains … we’ve talked about trying to do something, but …’
‘But what?’
‘But she’s just got too much control.’
‘Tell me about this,’ urged Erik.
He motioned with his chin that they should take a walk. When they were out of earshot of the men, Duga said, ‘I’ve probably got an agent or two of hers in my company now. You never know. This General Fadawah, he’s a bloody genius with his tactics and knowing when to send the men and the like, but he’s also a murderous dog. You heard what happened to General Gapi?’
Erik nodded. ‘Staked out naked over an anthill because he failed.’
‘And most of the generals and captains had to watch.’ He hit himself in the chest with his thumb. ‘I was one of them. It wasn’t pretty, I can tell you that.’
Duga looked frustrated as he tried to explain. ‘It’s the way they’ve got us all,’ he said, closing his hand slowly to demonstrate. ‘At first it was just another fight. You’d sign up at the rendezvous and go fight, loot, then spend your money. Then we started sacking cities. I remember Calis’s Crimson Eagles were on the other side at … where was it?’
‘Hamsa,’ supplied Erik. ‘That was before I signed on, but I heard the story of the siege.’
‘That’s when it started to get ugly. For two hundred sixty-odd days the Queen starved those pitiful bastards; then she unleashed those Saaur raiders on those that fled.’
Erik had heard the story of how the survivors of Calis’s company had made it to safe haven with the Jeshandi, the nomadic riders of Novindus.
‘When things started to look funny to us, we had a captains’ meeting, decided some of us had had enough, and went to see General Gapi. He took three of our captains to meet with the Queen, and they never came back.
‘That’s when we knew. We were in this war as long as it was going to be fought, and any man tried to leave, he was the enemy.
‘For a while it wasn’t too bad, though. There was plenty of plunder. Women, too, both willing and unwilling. But after a while you get tired, you know?’
Erik nodded. ‘I know.’
‘Some of my boys –’ He stopped. ‘None of us are boys any more. Not a man in my company under thirty years of age, Erik.’
Erik said, ‘I don’t know what I can promise you. This is different than anything you’ve ever seen. This is a nation at war, but I think if you’ll either switch sides or stay out of the way, if we get through this we’ll find some way to get you home.’
‘Home?’ asked Duga, as if he didn’t understand the word. ‘You have any idea what it’s like back home?’
Erik shook his head.
‘Farms burned, cattle slaughtered, fruit left to rot on the branches because there’s no one to work the orchards. Fields lying choked with weeds because the farmers are either dead or in the army.
‘We ate everything.’
Erik said, ‘I don’t understand.’
‘We fought this war for over ten years, from the Westlands through the Riverlands into the Eastlands, and we left nothing behind us.
‘Whoever’s living down there now is scraping by. There may be some people still living in the burned-out cities. I hear there’s a city full of dwarves somewhere up in the Ratn’gari Mountains the Queen was smart enough to leave alone, but if it had humans in it, it was burned to the ground.’
Erik could hardly credit what he heard. ‘Nothing left?’
‘Some people hid, and others just lived too far away to bother with, so there’s someone living down there. But most of those we left behind were dead, Erik. There are no cities left, and only a few towns with a building standing. If a farmer lived enough distance away, he might have a crop, unless those fleeing the cities ate it. And the sickness …’ He sighed. ‘With that many dead, it had to come. Some of our own men got the runs so bad they died from them; couldn’t even hold down a drink of water in their stomachs. Others got the black pox. Or some got fevers with no herbs or temple priests around to heal them. It’s pure misery back home, that’s what it is.’
Erik studied the man’s face and saw something in his eyes he had never seen in a soldier before. There was a deep horror that had been held in check so long it was not even being acknowledged, and when it at last came to the surface, who knew what might be the result.
Erik put his hand on Duga’s shoulder. ‘There are plenty of living people here.’ Raising his voice a little, he said, ‘And I intend to see they stay that way.’ Smiling, he added, ‘Even if they’re a bunch of scruffy mercenaries too damn far from home for their own good.’
Duga’s eyes widened slightly as he searched Erik’s face, then he nodded once, and turned away quickly, to keep Erik from seeing the moisture gathering in them. To his own men, he shouted, ‘Look lively, then, we’ve got to show these Kingdom lads how to be properly scruffy mercenaries.’
That got a laugh from some of his men, though most of the Kingdom soldiers didn’t understand the dialect he spoke.
Now the camp looked much as it had when Erik had encountered it, save that more than half the men were Kingdom soldiers, and a squad of thirty bowmen was lurking in the trees just out of sight to lend support.
On the third day after the surrender, a sentry reported riders approaching from the south.
‘Get ready,’ Erik instructed his men.
Duga’s mercenaries moved with the slow confidence of bored soldiers, while Erik’s men kept swords and shields very close to hand. In the trees the archers made ready.
A few minutes later three riders entered the clearing, each dressed in a traveling robe. The leader threw back his hood and revealed a man of middle years, with greyshot black hair. ‘Who leads?’
‘I do,’ said Erik.
‘What company?’ asked a second man.
‘Duga’s Black Swords,’ answered Erik.
‘You’re not Duga!’ said the first man.
‘No, Kimo, I am.’ Duga stepped forward.
The man named Kimo said, ‘He claims to lead.’
Duga shrugged. ‘We got bored waiting for you. He challenged me, and won.’ He made a show of rubbing his jaw. ‘Look at the size of him. Damn near broke my head. So, he’s in charge.’
‘What’s your name, “Captain”?’ asked Kimo.
Not knowing why, Erik answered, ‘Bobby.’
‘Well, Bobby,’ said Kimo, ‘your orders are to take your men west from here. Three days’ march, you’ll come to a small valley with a village in it. Leave that village alone. Don’t let them even know you’re here. Move past it at night, and head up into the mountains. Find a river that feeds that village, then follow it upward until you come to a branch. Follow the northern branch. You’ll find a nice little valley with game. We’ve also laid in supplies there. Wait until someone comes for you. When that happens, you must return down the river and take that village.’
Attempting to look confused, Erik said, ‘Why wait? Why not just take the village now?’
The man who had been silent spoke, and the hair on Erik’s arms and neck stood up, for the voice wasn’t human. ‘You are not paid to ask questions, boy.’ To Kimo the creature said, ‘Should we kill this one and turn command back to that one?’ He pointed at Duga, and Erik saw a scaled hand, green, with black talons. He had seen Pantathians before, even killed a few, but he felt relaxed only around the dead ones.
‘No, we have no time for this. There are other companies to find.’ The second man took out a map and started to read it.
Erik didn’t hesitate. ‘Kill them!’
The air filled with arrows, and before Kimo and his companions could act, they were literally lifted from their saddles as arrows struck them. Duga’s eyes widened and he said, ‘Why did you do that?’
Erik crossed first to the Pantathian and kicked it to make sure it was dead. Then he went to the second man, and as he knelt next to him, he said, ‘Because I need this map.’
He studied it a moment; then his eyes widened. ‘Nelson!’ he shouted, and one of his men ran over.
‘Yes, Sergeant Major!’
‘Take two extra horses and go find our men. I want them back as fast as you can bring them. Meet us …’ He studied the map a moment. ‘Meet us at the northern bank of the River Tamyth, where it falls. Three days to the east of the road to Hawk’s Hollow.’
‘Yes, Sergeant Major!’ Nelson said with a salute and turned.
‘And, Nelson,’ Erik said, halting the man.
‘Yes, Sergeant Major?’
‘Get your uniform back on. Garret may shoot you down for a bandit before he recognizes you.’
Nelson nodded and ran off.
‘What’s this all about, then?’ asked Duga.
Erik held up the map. ‘There are twenty companies like yours scattered through these hills. And if I read this right, they’re all going to seize key points in the hills, opening up the way for the Queen’s army to breach those mountains.’
Duga said, ‘I don’t follow.’
‘No,’ said Erik, ‘but I do. Jack!’
Another soldier hurried over. ‘I’m going to draft a message for Knight-Marshal William. You take six men and ride like hell for Krondor.’
The soldier hurried off to get ready. Duga followed Erik as he moved toward his own horse. Erik pulled parchment, pen, and ink from his saddle bag. Duga said, ‘What is this about key points in the hills?’
Erik turned and said, ‘If you’d moved about much outside this clearing, you’d have seen a range of mountains west of here.’ With his chin, he indicated a vaguely southeast direction. ‘Sethanon, that city you spoke of, is down that way. There’s nothing of marble, gold, and silk about her, but she’s important. I’m not quite sure why, but I have it on good authority that if we let your former comrades get there, we’re all dead, even those in the Queen’s army.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ said Duga. ‘She kills men every night.’
‘Tell me about it later,’ said Erik. Duga fell silent as Erik wrote. When he was finished, he handed the parchment to the soldier named Jack and said, ‘With your life!’
The soldier saluted. ‘Understood, Sergeant Major.’ Then he ran to where the other six riders waited.
Erik turned to Duga. ‘Looks like you’re about to enlist in the King’s Army. You’re going to fight for gold after all – just on the other side.’
Duga shrugged. ‘I’ve done it before.’
‘As I was saying, Sethanon’s down there, and the mountains are over there. And the Queen’s army is coming over those mountains to get there.’
‘Ah,’ said Duga. ‘Now I see why they went to the trouble of getting us here.’ He shook his head. ‘Some of those Pantathians collapsed when they sent the lads in front of us. It took some powerful magic by the look of things. Some of them died.’
‘That doesn’t break my heart,’ said Erik as he started shouting orders to strike camp.
‘What I mean,’ said Duga, ‘is they can’t send any more soldiers with that magic. Because if they could, they would, don’t you see?’
Erik stopped. ‘You must be right. Else why hide you all down here?’
He scratched his beard. ‘Some very odd goings-on, if you ask me. Why didn’t they just put us in this city of Sethanon?’
‘Because you’d all be dead before you got your bearings,’ answered Erik. He thought it best not to elaborate. The truth was, he didn’t know why that was so, but all Duke James and Knight-Marshal William would say is that it wouldn’t be possible for the Pantathians to send men directly into Sethanon. Erik suspected it had to do with one or another of the magicians that James was talking about, Pug or that woman Miranda.
Erik didn’t dwell further on the question. He had too many things to do. ‘Duga?’
‘Yes?’
‘These other companies, do you know them?’
‘A couple. Taligar’s Lions were the first through. They’ll not throw down swords easily – Taligar’s got a bitch of a temper and he just doesn’t like to lose. Nanfree’s Brothers of Iron might listen to reason if I can talk to them before people start bleeding.’ He grinned. ‘Nanfree’s a smart old fox who likes to work as little for as much gold as he can.’
Erik said, ‘Good. We’ll go in and talk to them first, if we can, but if we need to fight, I expect you to know which side you’re on.’
Duga shrugged. ‘I forgot which side I was on years ago.’ He glanced around the woods. ‘This seems like a nice place. I’ve had my fill of killing and burning. Might as well pick this land to call home and die for. Don’t see much back where we started worth that.’
Erik nodded. ‘That’s as good an answer as I could expect.’
Duga turned and shouted to his men, ‘Up we go, lads. It’s time to earn some pay.’ He glanced at Erik, then with a grin he shouted, ‘You’re all soldiers of the King now, so behave yourselves!’
‘Wait!’ Erik instructed softly.
The defenders had holed up behind some rocks, and Erik had sent bowmen along a ridge above to provide cover fire. For a month he had swept through the Dimwood, using the map to locate and encircle the various companies of the Emerald Queen’s who were hidden there.
Of the first dozen companies, Erik and his men had routed, eight had surrendered and four had fought. Erik had been forced to delegate some of his men to escort the captured soldiers who refused to turn coat to a safe holding place.
His company now numbered eleven hundred men, spread out in five squads. Coordinating efforts was difficult, and he regretted the many horses who were lamed as messengers raced between squads, but all reports indicated the sweep of the Dimwood was going well.
More than once he had wondered how much of this Calis had anticipated, for it seemed too providential that he should just happen to be riding through here with six hundred crack soldiers when the Emerald Queen’s advance forces popped into view. Sometime he’d have to remember to ask just where Calis got so much good intelligence.
A scout came running toward Erik and one of the enemy soldiers behind a rock loosed an arrow that barely missed the man. Erik grabbed him by the tunic and demanded, ‘What’s wrong?’
The soldier was one of Duga’s mercenaries. Short of breath, he could blurt out only one word: ‘Saaur!’
‘Where?’ demanded Erik.
‘That way,’ said the soldier.
‘How many?’ Erik asked as he heard the thunderous pounding of their gigantic mounts echoing through the trees.
‘Fifty!’
Erik stood, risking an arrow, and shouted, ‘Fall back!’
The bowmen who were climbing a distant ridge turned to see what the shout was, and saw Erik waving them back down toward the tree line. They waved acknowledgment and started down.
Erik ducked as two arrows flew at him from the defenders’ position and shouted, ‘Archers! Kill anything coming through those trees.’
Erik had fought the Saaur once before, and he had no illusions of this being a simple fight. He might have two hundred men with him, but fifty Saaur were easily their match. And he had a hundred-plus mercenaries who could sally forth at any time, putting Erik squarely between two armed foes.
Erik ran back to where the horses were picketed, and climbed into the saddle. He shouted to one of the nearby soldiers, ‘Ride to the north. James of Highcastle is up there with his men. Tell him to come as fast as possible.’
Even if the soldier found the corporal from Highcastle and his men and they rode straight back, it might be too late.
The sound of the advancing Saaur was now like a storm about to break over them. Erik glanced around, frantically looking for any advantage. The Saaur averaged nine feet in height, with horses twenty-five hands at the withers. ‘Into the woods!’ shouted Erik.
Then the Saaur came crashing into view. Armored with helms, breastplates, greaves, and bracers, the riders looked like a soldier’s worst nightmare. Reptilian faces showed more emotion than Erik ever would have imagined before meeting them, and the expression on their faces was anger. A Saaur wearing the flowing horsetail plume of an officer led the charge. ‘Die, traitors!’ he cried as he saw Erik’s men pulling back.
The fight became a blur. Erik dodged around trees, attempting to strike at the hocks of the larger animals, avoiding the powerful blows of the Saaur. Erik had once charged a Saaur rider, and he knew just how much more powerful they could be. From the screams around him, punctuated with curses, it was clear other men were discovering this fact the hard way.
Erik lost track of time and let the battle flow. He knew that by giving his men a chance to survive in the trees he had lost any hope of organizing the fight. More distant shouts led him to believe the company they had been readying to attack had joined the fray.
A Saaur bore down on him from behind, and Erik felt the approach more than heard it, moving his horse around a tree just in time to avoid being overrun. As the alien rider swept past, Erik put heels to his horse’s flanks and took out after another Saaur, moving in a different direction. It was clear to Erik that attacking these giant creatures from behind was the best course of action.
The air hissed with arrows and Erik prayed they came from his archers taking Saaur riders out of saddles, and not the other side killing his men. He came up behind the Saaur he followed as the rider reined in to catch his bearings. The creature was half-turned in the saddle when Erik caught him with his sword point, thrusting as deeply into the creature’s ribs as he could. The shocked Saaur looked down at the smaller human, astonishment being the only possible word to describe the expression on that alien face, and then he fell backward out of the saddle, almost ripping the sword from Erik’s hands.
Throughout the afternoon they rode through the trees, a crazy weaving dance of death with both sides dying more from blunders than from the other side’s tactics. Then a horn sounded and Erik turned to see more riders entering the woods. He expected to see his men from the north, but these riders were coming from the south, as best he could judge.
‘What now?’ he muttered to himself, his voice barely more than an exhausted croak.
Suddenly Calis rode into view, and horse archers started picking off Saaur who were locked in combat with Erik’s men. Erik saw his Captain point behind Erik and shout something, but he couldn’t hear what he said over the din of fighting.
Then the world exploded in pain and Erik saw the ground rising up to strike him. The breath was knocked from Erik. His shrieking horse fell on his leg, and he barely kept his wits about him. More by instinct than thought, he disentangled himself from his thrashing animal, blood spraying from a wound to the horse’s flank.
A Saaur rider turned his animal as Calis charged, and Erik struggled to his feet. He put his hand to his head and found his helmet gone. Blood covered his hand when he brought it away, but he couldn’t tell if it was his or the horse’s.
The rider ignored Erik and charged Calis. Erik braced his hand on the trunk of a tree to support himself, then knelt to pick up his sword. Nausea knotted his stomach and his head swam from the effort, but he stayed conscious. He quickly killed his dying horse and looked to see Calis engaged with the Saaur.
If the Saaur that Erik had killed had looked surprised, it was nothing compared to the expression on this one’s face at the first blow Calis delivered to the creature’s shield. Erik was certain nothing could have prepared that rider for the impact of someone as strong as Calis. The blow knocked the creature from his saddle.
Then it was quiet. Erik opened his eyes and realized he was sitting on the ground, his back against the tree. Someone had put a tunic over his legs and a rolled-up shirt behind his head.
A familiar voice said, ‘You took a nasty one to the head.’
Erik turned to see Calis standing nearby. Erik said, ‘I think I’ve been hit worse.’
‘I’m sure. Blade glanced off the back of your helmet and that rock head of yours and struck your horse behind the saddle. Broke its spine. You’re a lucky man, von Darkmoor. A couple of inches farther forward and he would have split you in two.’
Erik’s head rang and throbbed. ‘I don’t feel lucky,’ he said. Taking a drink of water from a skin held before him, he asked, ‘What brings you to this dark and lonely place?’
Calis said, ‘I got your message, but mostly it was because I gave you orders to be back in Krondor in two months.’
Erik smiled and it made his head hurt worse. ‘I told you I needed three.’
‘Orders are orders.’
‘Does it help I brought you two thousand men instead of six hundred and have captured or killed another thousand of the Queen’s army?’
Calis considered this a moment. ‘A little. But not much.’ Then he smiled.