Читать книгу The Serpentwar Saga - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 16

Erik halted.

The sound of so many horses’ hooves pounding on the cobbles nearby was unusual in Ravensburg. He put down the bundle of clothing he had tied a moment before, and set it upon the trunk containing his mother’s personal belongings.

The sound was definitely louder now, and Erik knew a group of riders was heading for the inn. He glanced at Milo, who was speaking softly to Freida on the other side of the kitchen. The decision to leave Ravensburg had been difficult, and to Erik’s surprise it had not been his mother who objected. She seemed resigned to never realizing her girlhood dream of her son’s being legitimized by his father. It was Nathan who had been the most vociferous in urging them to stay. When it was clear they were leaving, he bade them travel to the Far Coast. He spoke in almost reverent terms of the nobles of the Far Coast, Duke Marcus, cousin to the King, and his own Baron of Tulan, who had done everything in his power to aid those who had suffered in the massive destruction of the Far Coast at the hands of pirates a quarter century earlier. Stefan’s threats were repulsive to Nathan, whose view of the responsibilities of the nobility to the commons was at odds with the experience of most of those at the inn. All Milo would say was that nobility in the West was vastly different to that in Darkmoor.

Erik and Freida had been gathering up their belongings, making ready for the morning coach that would take them west to Krondor. Erik was to call at the Hall of the Guild of Smiths with a letter from Nathan, explaining that his leaving the forge at Ravensburg had nothing whatsoever to do with his skills. It explained more of the situation than Erik was comfortable with having known by strangers, but Nathan had assured him the guild was like a family. The letter urged the guild to find Erik a position somewhere on the Far Coast or in the Sunset Islands.

The sound of horses entering the courtyard of the inn caused Freida to cast a worried look Erik’s way. It was only two days since Greylock had burned Otto’s message, but still she was worried that Stefan might act prematurely to harm her son.

Erik opened the door to the rear courtyard and found twenty men in the baronial livery dismounting, Owen Greylock at their head. ‘Master Greylock, what is it?’

Erik half expected to hear Owen say they had come to arrest him, but instead the Baron’s Swordmaster took Erik by the arm and steered him away from the soldiers. ‘Your father. He suffered another seizure. We turned around yesterday afternoon, and now we must stop. His chirurgeon says he will not live to reach Darkmoor. He’s being taken to the Peacock’s Tail’ – the most lavish inn in Ravensburg – ‘and the rest of the men will be quartered in the other inns around the town. Another company rides all night to Darkmoor to fetch the Baroness. Your father will not live more than a few days.’

Erik felt surprisingly devoid of any feeling at the news of his father’s impending death. The message from him had made whatever childish fantasies about the man evaporate, to be replaced by a distant image of a man unable to do the right thing by a common woman and his own child. The closest feeling Erik could muster was pity. At last he spoke. ‘I don’t know what to say, Owen.’

‘Have you given thought to our last conversation?’

‘Mother and I are leaving tomorrow morning.’

‘Good. Keep out of the town square tonight, and see you are on the coach when it leaves. Stefan and Manfred are understandably distressed, and there’s no telling what that hothead Stefan’s capable of doing. As long as the Baron’s alive, he’ll probably remain close at hand, so if he doesn’t catch sight of you, all should be well.’ Glancing at the soldiers, he said, ‘I will stay here, with this guard, until I’m summoned to the Baron’s side.’

Erik knew that Greylock had intentionally chosen to bring his own contingency of guards to the Inn of the Pintail, against the possibility of trouble, and he said, ‘Thank you, Owen.’

‘Just doing as my lord would want, Erik. Now go inside and tell Milo I need all his rooms.’

Erik did as he was asked, and soon the inn was busy, with Rosalyn, Freida, and Milo all hurrying to get every room ready for guests. Each soldier saw to his own mount, but Erik and Nathan had plenty to do fetching fodder into the barn and the large corral on the north side of the barn where twelve of the twenty mounts were herded.

Erik finished bringing in the last bale of hay for the horses, and washed up in the forge. Nathan came to stand behind him and said, ‘I am sorry to hear about your father, Erik.’

Erik shrugged. ‘I don’t have much feeling about this, Nathan. Milo’s been the only father I’ve ever known, though he acts more like an uncle. You’ve treated me more like a son in the last five months than Otto did my entire life. I don’t know what I should be feeling.’

Nathan put his hand on Erik’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. ‘There is no “should” to it, lad. You feel what you feel, and there’s no right or wrong. Otto was your father, but you never knew him.’

His voice was quiet and calm as he went on, ‘It’s changing diapers when the wife’s too busy with another child’s illness, or listening to the child prattle after a long tiring day because it’s your child’s prattle, that makes a father, not getting a girl pregnant. Any fool can do that. It’s holding a child who’s frightened at night, or tossing one in the air to make her giggle. You’ve had none of that from Otto. I can understand how you could feel little at his passing.’

Erik turned to regard the burly smith. ‘I shall miss you, Nathan. I mean what I said. You helped me understand what a father should be like.’

He embraced the older man, and they hugged for a long moment. Nathan said, ‘And you’ve given me a chance to imagine what it would have been like had my sons lived, Erik. I’ll treasure that.’ Then, with a harsh barking laugh: ‘And you’ve made it hell to be my next apprentice, lad. You’re a talent and you’ve got years of experience under your belt. I may be short-tempered with some tangle-footed boy of fourteen who has never stepped inside a forge before.’

Erik shook his head. ‘I somehow doubt that, Nathan. You’ll be fair with him.’

‘Well, let’s not dwell on partings. Let’s go inside and grab some food before those soldiers eat everything in sight.’

Erik laughed at that and realized he was hungry, despite the prospect of leaving the place of his birth and never returning, and the specter of his father’s death at any hour.

They entered the kitchen to find Freida busy preparing food, as if it were just another night at the inn, and Rosalyn hurrying between the kitchen and the common room, while Milo fetched ale and wine from the taproom.

Erik and Nathan washed up and entered the commons. Instead of the usual loud talk, the soldiers were quietly eating and drinking, keeping their voices low. Owen sat alone at a corner table and motioned Erik and Nathan to join him.

They did, and Milo brought over three large glass goblets of wine. When he had left, Owen said, ‘Where are you bound for tomorrow, Erik?’

‘Krondor,’ he said. ‘To the guild office for another apprenticeship.’

‘So it’s west, then?’

‘Yes. The Far Coast or the Sunset Islands.’

Nathan said, ‘They’ve found gems and gold in the mountains near Jonril, so the rush is on. The trading houses from the Free Cities, as well as every adventurer, thief, and swindler, have descended there. But it also means a good opportunity, because the Duke of Crydee has asked for additional smiths, as well as other Craftmasters, to be sent there.’

Owen nodded. ‘This place changes little, and most of us are born into our lives with small chance of making them different. Out there, with some ambition, some thought, and a touch of luck, a common man can rise to riches or even to the nobility.’

Erik said, ‘Riches, with luck, I guess. But a commoner become a noble?’

Owen smiled his crooked smile. ‘It’s not common knowledge, but the King’s adviser, the Duke of Rillanon, was common-born.’

‘Truth?’ said Nathan.

‘He did some favor or another for the late Prince of Krondor, and was given a squire’s rank when he was but a lad. His wit and service to the Kingdom earned him a rapid rise, and now he is second only to royalty in power.’ He lowered his voice to a near whisper. ‘There are those who claim he was not only a common boy, but a thief as well.’

Erik said, ‘That is impossible.’

Owen shrugged. ‘Nothing is truly impossible, I think.’

Erik said, ‘Well, maybe when he was a boy, but that was fifty years ago.’

Owen nodded. ‘Things change. Once, centuries ago, this was the frontier, Erik.’

Erik’s brow furrowed as if he didn’t understand.

Nathan said, ‘I grew up on the Far Coast, Erik. I think what friend Greylock means is that you’ll find a different stripe out there, men who are concerned more with what you know and can do than with who you are, or who your father was. Too many things going on to worry about rank; you’ve got to depend upon your neighbors. Goblins, dark elves, bandits, and other problems constantly coming at you – those make a man glad for help close by. You don’t have time to worry about a lot of the things that make life here in the Kingdom the way it is.’

Greylock nodded. Erik said nothing for a moment, thinking about the possibility things might turn out right after all, when the front door of the inn opened, and Roo hurried in.

He saw Erik from across the room and quickly came through the crowded commons to where his friend sat. Nodding with as much deference as he could muster to the Baron’s Swordmaster, he said, ‘Master Greylock, they need you over at the Peacock, sir.’

Owen threw a quick glance at Erik. His expression betrayed his worry. It couldn’t be good news. He stood, said a quick good-bye, and left. Roo took his place. Nathan said, ‘You a squire these days, Roo?’

Roo made a face as if that remark put a bad taste in his mouth. ‘I was hanging around the fountain by the Growers’ and Vintners’ Hall and a soldier came out and told all of us to spread out and look for the Swordmaster and fetch him to the Peacock’s Tail. So I told the other lads I’d come here.’

Erik smiled. ‘I was hoping you’d come by tonight.’

‘I would have been here sooner, but Gwen was at the fountain and …’

Erik shook his head. ‘So you’re back in her favor once again?’

‘Trying to be,’ said Roo.

Nathan said, ‘How’d you like to apprentice at the forge, Roo?’

It was a joke, and they all knew it, but Roo still said, ‘What, me get all dirty and grimy? You get your hands callused, and the horses step on your feet! Not on your life. I have plans.’

Erik smiled, but Nathan said, ‘Really? What sort of plans?’

Roo glanced around the room, as if fearing to be overheard. ‘There are ways to make a living that have nothing to do with guilds and apprenticeships, friend smith.’

Nathan’s brow furrowed. ‘You’re going to end up in jail, Roo.’

Roo put up his hands as if protesting innocence. ‘No, nothing dodgy, I swear. It’s just my father has been hauling enough from Krondor up to here that I’m getting pretty good at nosing out what the markets are for different things. I’ve saved a little money, and I’m going to invest it in a cargo one of these days.’

Nathan appeared impressed. ‘A shipping concern?’

‘There are syndicates in Krondor and Salador that routinely underwrite the cost of freight hauls from one city to another, or cargoes for ships bound to distant ports. They have subscribers and return nice profits on their investments.’

Nathan nodded. ‘True, but there’s risk as well. If a cargo isn’t delivered on time, your profit can vanish. Worse, if bandits take the caravan, or the ship sinks, you lose everything.’

Roo looked as if this would never happen. ‘I plan on starting small and building up my capital for a few years.’

‘What do you plan on doing to eat and put a roof over your head while you invest in these ventures?’ asked Nathan.

Roo said, ‘Well, I haven’t quite worked that out, but –’

‘How much capital have you, Roo?’ interrupted Nathan.

‘On to thirty golden sovereigns,’ he said proudly.

Nathan was impressed. ‘Quite a beginning. I think I’ll forbear asking how you’ve managed to amass such a young fortune, and’ – he turned to Erik – ‘I suggest you get back to the forge and keep out of sight. When the coach comes in the morning is time enough for your good-byes. If Master Greylock needs another word with you, I’ll send him to you.’

Erik nodded and rose. Roo followed him. The two youngsters passed from the crowded common room to the kitchen, where Rosalyn was hurrying to carry a large platter of steaming greens out to the soldiers. Freida worked feverishly over her stew as if it were just another busy night at the inn and not her last in the home of her birth.

Erik walked outside with Roo, and as he passed the corral, the horses there wandered over to investigate the two boys. Erik inspected their legs out of habit. ‘Milo will need to order up hay tomorrow,’ he muttered to Roo as he slowly walked along the fence. ‘This lot will have eaten the entire contents of the loft by the time they’ve gone.’

Roo turned and faced Erik while they were walking. He seemed to half skip, half dance to keep from tripping while walking backwards. ‘Erik, let me come with you.’

Erik said, ‘Why would you want to come with me?’

‘Look, you’re the only real friend I’ve got here, and I’ve got no trade. I wasn’t joking about joining a syndicate. I can get a job in Krondor and invest my money until I’m rich. Once you get to Krondor, you’ll see there are better things to do than return to apprenticeship.’

Erik laughed, and stopped, so Roo wouldn’t have to continue his backward walk. ‘What about your father?’

‘He’d just as soon be rid of me as not,’ Roo said with bitterness. ‘The bastard hasn’t had a kind word for me since Mum died.’ Suddenly, as if by magic, a dagger appeared in Roo’s hand, then equally suddenly he returned it to inside his loose shirt. ‘I can take care of myself if I need to. Now, let me come along.’

Erik said, ‘I’ll talk to Mother. She’s not likely to offer any encouragement.’

‘You’ll talk her into it.’

‘Well, assume I do, you need to get your things together and have some copper to pay the coach.’

‘Everything I have is in a bundle at my father’s. I’ll run and get it.’

Erik shook his head and watched Roo run off into the night. He glanced around, suddenly feeling melancholy. This would be his last night under the barn roof. It was a poor lodging by any measure; occasionally leaky, drafty, and offering too little protection from winter’s cold and summer’s heat, but it was home. And he’d miss Milo and Rosalyn.

As he returned to his place in the loft, Erik thought of Rosalyn, pretty, but not teasing as Gwen and some of the other girls were. His feelings for her were often tempered by his sense of family. She was the sister of his heart, if not by blood, and while he was as interested in girls as any boy his age, something about Rosalyn made him uneasy. In many ways he’d miss her most of all.

Tired from the long day’s work and from worry, Erik quickly dozed off, only to be startled awake by a sudden feeling of panic. He sat up and looked around the dark barn loft. Unseen enemies were hovering nearby. The sound of men talking carried from the inn, and the horses in the corral and barn snorted. Erik rolled over on his side, head on his arm, thinking about the strange feeling of danger that had suddenly come upon him.

He closed his eyes and again saw Rosalyn’s face. He would miss her, and Milo, and Nathan. Soon he was dozing again. Before he lapsed into a deep sleep, he dreamed he heard Rosalyn gently calling his name.

‘Erik!’

Erik came awake with a start as a hand shook his shoulder. He had been hard asleep, in a deep numbing slumber of emotional exhaustion, and he couldn’t quite get his bearings.

‘Erik!’ Roo’s voice cut through the gloom, and Erik looked up into his friend’s face. Roo was dressed as he had been earlier, but he wore a travel bundle tied around one shoulder, slung over his back.

‘What is it?’

‘You’d better come quick. Down by the fountain. Rosalyn.’

Erik half leaped down the ladder, Roo scampering down after him as fast as he could. Erik sprinted past the corral of horses and, as he approached the inn, could hear the voices from within. ‘What time is it?’

‘Nine of the clock was the last call. Half past that, I think.’

Erik knew that with this many soldiers in town, some of the town girls would be down at the fountain. But Rosalyn was certainly not likely to be one of them.

‘What happened?’

‘I don’t know,’ answered Roo. ‘Gwen can tell you.’

Erik ran through the streets until he came to the fountain, where a group of three young off-duty soldiers were attempting to impress the local girls with tales of their heroics. But the expression on Gwen’s face as he saw it in the lantern light showed that all thoughts of harmless flirtation were gone. She looked very worried.

‘What is it?’ demanded Erik.

‘Rosalyn came here, looking for you.’

‘I was in the loft,’ said Erik.

Gwen said, ‘She said she called for you there, but you didn’t answer.’

Erik cursed his sound sleep and said, ‘Where is she now?’

Roo said, ‘They say she went off with Stefan.’

‘What?’ Erik turned at his half brother’s name and gripped Gwen by the arm. ‘Tell me what happened.’

Gwen motioned for Erik to follow her, out of hearing of the soldiers. ‘She was going back to the inn when the Baron’s sons came. Stefan started saying sweet things to her, but there was something about his manner she didn’t like. She tried to leave, but didn’t know how to say no to someone of his rank, and when he took her by the arm, she went along. But he didn’t lead her back to the inn; they went off toward the old orchard.’ She pointed off in the general direction. ‘He was more dragging her along than escorting her, Erik.’

Erik had taken one step after them when Gwen held his arm. ‘Erik, I’ve been with Stefan. The last time he was here I went to his rooms at the Peacock …’ Her voice lowered as if she was ashamed to speak. ‘He left marks on me, Erik. He likes to hit while he’s having you, and when I cried, it made him laugh.’

Roo had been standing beside Erik. As Erik turned away toward the apple grove, Roo saw an expression on Erik’s face that caused him to hesitate an instant. While Erik moved away with purposeful steps, Roo grabbed Gwen by the arm. ‘Go to the Pintail and find Nathan. Tell him what happened and to come to the orchard!’

Roo hurried over to where the three soldiers watched Erik disappear into the night. One looked at Roo with an open expression of curiosity on his face, and Roo said, ‘If you don’t want bloodshed, run and find Owen Greylock and tell him to come to the old orchard.’

Roo then ran as fast as he could after the rapidly receding figure of Erik. The slender boy was one of the fastest runners in town, but Erik had already moved out of the lantern light of the square and had vanished down the street leading to the old apple orchard at the edge of town.

Roo hurried through the streets, his footfalls slapping the stones with a sound that seemed to evoke the anger and outrage in the night. Each step sounded like a hand striking a face, and with the sound, Roo felt his blood rise. Quick to anger, slow to release a grudge, Roo knew a fight was coming and was composing himself to help his friend. He didn’t like Stefan, anyway, from what he had seen of him, but as each stride took him closer to confrontation, it was turning into a serious hatred. As he left the last buildings behind, he caught a glimpse of Erik at the far edge of his vision, before he faded into the darkness.

Roo hurried after, but Erik was possessed with an outrage that lent his feet wings. Roo had never seen Erik run so swiftly.

Roo crossed the low pasture and jumped the fence that brought him to the edge of the old orchard, a favored meeting place for young lovers on warm nights. Reaching the edge of the trees, cloaked in threatening darkness after the brightly lit town square and lantern-dressed streets, Roo was forced to slow to a walk. He moved between the dark boles, then suddenly was upon Erik, who turned at his approach. Erik made a motion for silence, then whispered, ‘Over there, I think,’ as he tried to catch his breath.

Roo listened and was about to say he heard nothing over the pounding of his own heart when a faint movement, as if someone shifted his weight, could be heard, the softest rustle of cloth upon cloth. It was in the general direction Erik indicated. Roo nodded.

Erik moved like a hunter stalking prey. There was something very wrong in all of this. Rosalyn would never have come away with any boy to the orchard, for there was only one reason to be here. Rosalyn was still a virgin, of that Erik was certain, still too young to have a lover. Some girls, like Gwen, matured early and enjoyed the company of older boys, while others were shy. Rosalyn was not only shy; once outside her father’s inn she was intimidated by the company of any boys besides Erik and Roo. Even the most innocent compliment would bring a blush to her cheeks, and when the other girls started talking about the town boys, she would excuse herself in embarrassment. Erik knew in his heart she was in danger, and the silence of the orchard frightened him. If another couple had been making love anywhere within this grove, sounds would carry this quiet night.

Abruptly, both boys heard a sound that made their hair stand on end. A girl’s cry split the night, followed by the sound of a fist striking flesh, then silence. Erik leaped toward the sound. Roo hesitated an instant, then followed.

Erik ran without thought toward where the sound had come from. Then he saw Rosalyn, and his world froze for an instant. The girl lay back against the bole of a tree, her face bruised and her dress in tatters. Her blouse was torn from her, exposing her breasts, and her skirt was ripped away, with only a tattered rag around her waist. Erik could see blood running from her nose and she was without motion. Erik felt something hot and blinding rise up within him.

A sense of movement, rather than anything really seen, caused Erik to move to his right, saving his life. A searing pain erupted in his left shoulder as Stefan’s sword point pierced it. With a cry of agony, Erik felt his knees go weak from the unexpected shock. Then Roo flew past his friend, driving his head into Stefan’s stomach. Erik almost fainted when the sword point was wrenched from his shoulder. His vision swam and his stomach knotted, and he had to force himself not to lose consciousness. He forced himself back to his feet as he shook his head to clear it. The sound of Roo’s panic-stricken plea for help brought him back to alertness.

In the dark, with only the middle moon shining through the branches, he could see Roo wrestling Stefan on the ground. The smaller lad had surprised Stefan, but that advantage was now gone. Stefan was using his superior strength and size to force himself atop Roo. Only the fact that his sword was designed for fighting at arm’s length saved Roo’s life. Had Stefan held a dagger, the boy would surely be dead.

As Roo called his name, Erik ignored the terrible pain in his left shoulder and with a single step came up behind Stefan. He grabbed his half brother around the waist and yanked him up in a massive bear hug, a primitive cry erupting from his own throat. Stefan’s breath exploded from his lungs as the young smith’s powerful arms closed hard around his chest; the sword fell from Stefan’s hand as he was lifted abruptly off Roo. Held above the ground, all he could do was kick helplessly backwards at Erik and claw at his hands.

Erik stood like a man possessed by an avenging spirit as he attempted to crush the life from Stefan. He couldn’t take his eyes from Rosalyn, who lay in mute tableau, a testimony to Stefan’s cruelty. Erik had seen her naked as a child, for they had bathed together, but not since they had grown. The sight of her breasts, her own blood dripping between them, was something obscene to Erik. Lover, husband, child should have touched that flesh, with nurturing love. His Rosalyn deserved better than the rough handling of a jaded and cruel noble.

Roo rolled to his feet, his dagger pulled from within his shirt. Murderous anger flashed in his eyes as he stepped forward. Stefan struggled with hysterical strength and Erik felt his grip loosen. As Roo reached them, Erik heard a distant voice shout, ‘Kill him!’ and as Roo drove home the blade, Erik realized the voice commanding Stefan’s death was his own.

Stefan stiffened and bucked once, then went limp, and even when Roo yanked free his blade, the son of the Baron did not twitch. Erik felt his skin crawl with an otherworldly sense of disgust, as if he were holding something profoundly unclean, and he let go. Stefan fell limply to the ground.

Roo stood over him, holding the still-bloody dagger, and Erik saw rage-was still in his friend’s expression. He said, ‘Roo?’

Roo blinked and looked down at his blade, then at Stefan. He wiped the blade on Stefan’s shirt and put it away. Frustration and anger still pumped through Roo’s mind and body; in need of another target to vent them on, he aimed a vicious kick at Stefan’s body. The toe of his boot struck ribs, breaking them. With a final gesture of contempt, he spit on the corpse.

Suddenly the anger drained out of Erik. ‘Roo?’ he repeated, and his friend turned to face him.

Erik’s expression was one of confusion and Roo’s a mask of equally confused anger; a third time Erik said his friend’s name. Roo finally answered, his own voice hoarse with excitement and fear. ‘What?’

‘What have we done?’

Roo looked blankly at Erik a moment, then looked down at Stefan. Instantly what had just occurred registered on him. He rolled his eyes heavenward and said, ‘Oh, gods, Erik. They’re going to hang us.’

Erik glanced around, and the sight of Rosalyn shook him back to more pressing needs than concern over his own fate. He crossed the distance between Stefan’s body and hers and knelt beside her. She lived, but her breath was shallow and labored, and he moved her to a more upright position. He watched helplessly, not knowing if he should cover her up, or see if he could stop the bleeding from her nose, or what. Then she moaned slightly.

Roo appeared with a fancy cloak, obviously Stefan’s, and covered her. ‘She’s in danger,’ said Erik.

‘So are we,’ answered Roo. ‘If we stay, they will arrest us and hang us, Erik.’

Erik looked as if he were about to pick up Rosalyn, but Roo said, ‘We must get away!’

Erik said, ‘What do you mean?’

Roo said, ‘We’ve killed the Baron’s son, you idiot.’

‘But he abused Rosalyn!’

‘That doesn’t give us a warrant to execute him, Erik. Do you want to go into court and swear that this was only about Rosalyn? If it had been anyone else in the entire world but your own half brother …’ He left the thought unfinished.

‘We can’t leave her here,’ said Erik.

The sounds of men shouting echoed through the night. ‘She won’t be undiscovered for long. This orchard is going to be swarming with the Baron’s soldiers in a few minutes.’ As if to punctuate the observation, Erik could now hear distinct voices as the men advanced toward the orchard.

Roo looked ready to run at a moment’s notice as he looked around the glade. ‘We didn’t have to kill him, Erik. If we are put in the dock and made to testify, we can’t honestly say we had to kill him.’ Roo put his hand on Erik’s arm as if to drag him from the scene. ‘I wanted him dead, Erik. You did, too. We murdered him.’

Erik found it almost impossible to keep events clear in his head. He knew he had felt something close to murder in his heart as he wrestled with Stefan, but now that was a distant memory, and events were jumbled.

‘I’ve got my money, here’ – he indicated his travel bundle – ‘so we can make for Krondor and buy passage to the Sunset Islands.’

‘Why there?’

‘Because if a man lives for a year and a day in the islands and commits no crime, he’s pardoned for whatever he did before he came there. It’s an old law from when the islands came into the Kingdom.’

‘But they’ll be looking for us.’

Rosalyn stirred, with a faint moan of discomfort. Roo leaned down and asked, ‘Can you hear me?’

The girl didn’t answer. Roo said, ‘They’ll probably think we’re going to Kesh. A man can hide in the Vale of Dreams and get across the border without much trouble.’ The vale, the border between Great Kesh and the Kingdom, was a no-man’s-land of smugglers, bandits, and garrisons along both sides of the frontier. Men came and went and few questions were asked.

Erik moved his shoulder experimentally and felt light-headed when a stabbing pain answered his movement. ‘This isn’t right,’ he said.

Roo shook his head. ‘If we stay here, we will be hung. Even if we had twenty witnesses, Manfred would make sure we were found guilty.’ Roo looked around as a distant shout split the night. ‘Someone’s coming. We have to go now!’

Erik nodded. ‘I should go back to the inn –’

‘No,’ said Roo. ‘They’ll expect that. We must go down the old western trail. We’ll go all night and cut into the woodlands at daybreak. If they send the dogs after us, we had better be across a dozen streams or more before noon.’

‘Mother –’ began Erik.

‘She’ll be safe,’ Roo interrupted. ‘Manfred has no reason to trouble her. You were always the threat, not your mother.’ A shout from the far side of the orchard caused Roo to swear. ‘They’re on the other side already. We’re trapped!’

Erik said, ‘There!’ He pointed to an old tree both had played in over the years. The centerpiece of the old orchard, the tree was heavily shrouded in leaves and might offer possible haven.

They crossed the short distance to the tree and Roo said, ‘How’s your shoulder?’

‘Hurts like blazes, but I can move it.’

Roo didn’t hesitate but scampered up the tree. He moved as high as he could, leaving the slightly heavier lower branches for Erik. By the time Erik was out of sight, torchlight and lanterns could be seen coming close.

Roo shook for a moment as he lost balance, then regained it, and Erik was now almost sick with pain, fear, and disgust. Stefan’s death was still unreal to him; he could see the dark shape of his body on the ground and expected him to rise up in a moment, as if this were all some mummery put on at a festival.

Then a soldier with a lantern saw Rosalyn. ‘Master Greylock! Over here!’

Through the leaves, Erik could barely make out the figures that rushed to where Rosalyn and Stefan lay a few yards apart. Then he heard Owen Greylock’s voice. ‘He’s dead.’

Another voice asked, ‘How is the girl?’

A third said, ‘She’s in a bad way, Swordmaster. We should get her to the chirurgeon.’

Then Erik heard Manfred’s shout of rage. ‘They’ve killed my brother!’ An almost inaudible oath and a sobbing cry was followed by ‘I’ll kill him myself.’

Erik caught a glimpse of Owen Greylock’s slender form between the nearby leaves and heard the Baron’s Swordmaster say, ‘We’ll find those who did this, Manfred.’

Erik shook his head. The three soldiers who had seen him and Roo run after Stefan and Rosalyn would certainly place them at the scene. A soldier said, ‘I know there was bad blood between the bastard and your brother, but why did they beat the girl?’ Erik knew then that they had already been identified.

Erik felt his anger rise again. A familiar voice said, ‘Erik wouldn’t harm Rosalyn.’ Nathan was there!

‘Are you saying my brother did this, Master Smith?’

‘Young sir, I only know that this girl is as gentle a soul as the gods have placed upon this world. She was a sister to Erik and one of Roo’s few friends. Neither boy would harm her.’ Then he pointedly added, ‘But I can certainly imagine them killing anyone who did.’

Manfred’s voice rose in anger. ‘I’ll have no excuse for black murder, Master Smith. No member of my family would do this.’ Manfred raised his voice to a shout of command: ‘I want every man on his horse and combing the countryside, Swordmaster. If those two murderous dogs are found, I want them held until I can join whichever soldiers find them. I don’t want them hung until I’m there to watch.’

Nathan’s voice cut through the muttering of the gathered soldiers. ‘There will be no hanging them out of hand, young lord. That’s the law. And as you are a member of the family that is wronged, neither you nor your father can sit in judgment; when caught, Erik and Roo are to be bound over to a King’s justice or magistrate.’ Then Nathan’s tone became warning. ‘Erik is a guild apprentice, so if you really want troubles, young sir, try to put my apprentice into a noose without due writ.’

‘You’d bring the guild into this?’ asked Manfred.

‘I would,’ answered Nathan. Erik felt tears gather in his eyes. Nathan, at least, understood why this had happened. ‘I suggest the young lord returns to his father’s side. Someone needs to break this grave news to him, and it should be someone he loves.’ To drive the point into the ground, he said, ‘It should be you, young sir.’

There was a stirring and a weak cry from Rosalyn, and Nathan took command. ‘Master Greylock, would you ask two of your lads to carry the girl back to the inn?’

Greylock gave instructions and began issuing commands to search for Erik and Roo.

They remained in the tree while soldiers fanned out in all directions, and said nothing to each other until it had been quiet for some time.

Then slowly they dropped to the ground, and crouched, ready to bolt should any noise indicate they were discovered. At last Roo said, ‘For a while we have luck on our side.’

‘Why?’

‘They don’t think we’re behind them. As they widen the circle to find us, there’ll be more places we can slip through. Any local farmer would think of the old western trail, but Greylock’s probably never heard of it; all his trips west have been by the King’s Highway. For a while we can worry about soldiers in front of us, not behind us.’

Erik said, ‘I think maybe we should give ourselves up.’

Roo said, ‘You may have Nathan and the guild to protect you, maybe, but I don’t. Manfred will get me hung before the sun sets on the day they find me. And don’t think he’s likely to worry about the law much if it dawns on him that you’re now a threat to his inheritance, not Stefan’s.’

Erik felt a sinking in his stomach. Roo whispered, ‘You’ve made him Baron next, and I don’t think he’s going to want you around to thank you, Erik. We’re dead men if we can’t make straight to the Sunset Islands.’

Erik nodded. He was still light-headed and in pain, but he rose to unsteady feet. Without another word he followed Roo into the darkness.