Rage of a Demon King (Serpentwar Book 3)

Roo returned the smile, though his was far more wry. ‘Not yet. He’s made it clear that taxes will remain reasonable because he expects me to underwrite a large portion of the coming fight and to convince others, like Jacob Esterbrook, to provide funds as well.’

 

 

Mentioning Esterbrook, Roo again thought of his daughter, Sylvia, Roo’s mistress for the better part of a year before his sailing to rescue Erik, Calis, and the others. He had seen her only once since returning two weeks ago, and he was planning on seeing her tonight; he ached for her. ‘I think I should call upon Jacob soon,’ he said as if the thought had just come to him. ‘If he and I together agree to participate in financing the war, no one else of importance in the Kingdom would refuse the Prince’s request.’ Dryly he added, ‘After all, if we fail in this, repayment of loans will be the last of our worries.’ Then he whispered in a somber tone, ‘Assuming we can worry about anything.’

 

Erik nodded noncommittally. He had to admit that Roo had proven beyond any doubt he understood matters of finance far better than Erik and, should his phenomenal success be any indication, better than most of the businessmen in the Kingdom.

 

Roo said, ‘I should make my excuses to the Prince and get about my own business. I suspect those of us here who are not part of your military inner circle will be asked to find other things to go do soon, anyway.’

 

Erik took his hand. ‘I think you’re right.’ Other nobles, not part of the military, were presenting themselves to the Prince. Roo left his boyhood friend and joined the line of those begging the Prince’s leave to depart, and soon only the Prince, his senior advisers, and members of the military remained.

 

When Owen Greylock entered, Patrick said, ‘We’re now all here.’

 

Knight-Marshal William motioned for them to gather around a circular table at the far end of the room. Duke James sat to his Prince’s right, and William to the left.

 

It was the Duke who began. ‘Well, now that the pomp is over, we can get back to the bloody work ahead of us.’

 

Erik sat back and listened to the plans for the final defense of the Kingdom begin to take shape.

 

 

 

 

 

Roo reached the gate where his horse was waiting for him. He had left his carriage at home for his wife’s use, for he had moved his family to an estate outside the gates of the city. While he preferred the convenience of his town house, across the street from Barret’s Coffee House – where most of his business day was spent - the country house offered a tranquillity he couldn’t have imagined before the move. He had grounds for hunting if he chose, and a stream with fish, and all the other advantages granted to the nobility and rich commoners. He knew he would have to find time soon to enjoy those pastimes.

 

Not yet twenty-three years of age, Roo Avery was the father of two, one of the richest merchants in the Kingdom, and privy to secrets shared by few. The country house was also a hedge, as the gamblers called it, a place from which his family could escape the oncoming invasion to safer refuge to the east before the mob fled the city, trampling everything in its path. Roo had endured the destruction of Maharta, the distant city crushed three years before by the armies of the Emerald Queen. He had been forced to fight his way through the mass of panic-stricken citizens, had seen innocents die because they were in the wrong place. He vowed he would spare his children that horror, no matter what else might come.

 

He knew what he had been told, years before, along with the rest of Calis’s company, on the shore of that distant land called Novindus, that should the Kingdom of the Isles not prevail, all life as they knew it would cease on Midkemia. He still couldn’t accept that deep within, but he acted as if it were true. He had seen too many things on his trip south to know that even if the Captain’s claims were overblown, life under the yoke of the Emerald Queen’s advancing army would bring only a choice between death and slavery.

 

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