‘Will the Baron approve?’ asked Akee.
‘Probably not,’ answered Erik, turning away. ‘But he doesn’t have much to say about it. I’m the Prince of Krondor’s man.’
The Hadati hillman shrugged and motioned to his companions. ‘Let those men free.’
‘Free?’ asked Erik.
Akee smiled. ‘We captured a few of those you sent to the south. Sergeant. I believe your ugly thug may be among them.’
Erik let fatigue and the pressure of the night’s exercise get the better of his usually calm nature. Swearing softly, he said, ‘If he is, he’ll regret it.’
Akee shrugged, turning to his companions and saying, ‘Let’s go see.’
Erik addressed another of his company, a soldier named Shane. ‘Get the men formed up at the south end of the camp.’
Shane nodded and started shouting orders.
Erik followed the Hadati to a point outside the perimeter of the Baron’s camp and found a pair of Hadati sitting next to Corporal Alfred and a half-dozen of Erik’s best men.
‘What happened?’ Erik asked.
Alfred sighed as he stood. ‘They’re good. Sergeant.’ He pointed to a ridge above them. ‘They must have moved the second they heard us coming, ‘cause we were up there on that ridge, and I would have wagered everything I own it wasn’t possible they could have come up out of that camp, crossed the ridge, lay low, then come up behind us as we headed down.’ He shook his head. ‘We were being tapped on the shoulder before we heard them.’
Erik turned to Akee. ‘You’ll have to tell me how you did that.’
Akee shrugged, saying nothing.
To Alfred, Erik said, ‘These hillmen are coming with us. Take them down to the camp and let’s get back to Krondor.’
Alfred smiled, forgetting the tongue-lashing he was likely to receive from Erik when they were back at the garrison. ‘A hot meal,’ he said.
Erik was forced to agree it would be welcome. They had been out on maneuvers for a week, eating cold rations in the dark, and his men were tired and hungry. ‘Get moving’ was all he said.
Standing in the dark, Erik considered what was at stake in the impending war, and wondered if a hundred such exercises would prepare the men of the Kingdom for what was to come.
Tossing aside such concern, he conceded that probably nothing would prepare them fully, but what other choice did he have? He considered that Calis, Prince Patrick, Knight-Marshal William, and other commanders were operating throughout these mountains, conducting such exercises this week; at the end of the week a council would be held to tally what needed to be done.
Erik said to himself, ‘Everything, everything needs to be done,’ and he realized his black mood was due more to fatigue and hunger than to Alfred’s failing to avoid the Hadati ambush. Then he smiled. If the hillmen from northem Yabon had gotten up over that ridge that fast, it was a good thing they were going to be on the Kingdom’s side, and even better, thought Erik, under his command.
He turned toward the camp and decided he’d better join Greylock in mollifying the distressed Baron of Tyr-Sog.
The soldiers stood to attention as the courtyard resounded with the echo of their boot heels striking cobbles as one, and each man stood motionless while the Prince of Krondor made his appearance on the dais.
Roo looked at his friend Erik and said, ‘Nicely done.’
Erik shook his head, indicating that Roo should keep silent. Roo grinned but stayed quiet while Prince Patrick, ruler of Krondor, accepted a salute from the assembled garrison of the palace. Next to Erik stood Calis, Captain of the Prince’s special guards known as the Crimson Eagles.
Erik shifted his weight slightly, uncomfortable with the attention being drawn to him and the others. The survivors of the most recent expedition to the distant land of Novindus were being presented with awards for bravery, and Erik wasn’t sure what that entailed, but he knew he would prefer being back about his usual duties.