He left the yard and made his way down the street as the town began to stir into the day’s activities. Workers were already at their shops, and now those women heading out to purchase goods and food for their families were also about. Roo nodded in greeting at a few familiar faces, but mostly he was lost in thought about the next step in his plan for wealth.
As he reached the town square, opposite the Growers’ and Vintners’ Hall, a clatter of hooves upon cobbles heralded the approach of riders, and from the sound, Roo knew they were coming fast. A moment later the squad appeared around the corner of the very hall for which Roo was bound, five riders at a canter. Pedestrians scampered out of the way as the five men in the colors of the Baron of Darkmoor hurried by. Roo marked the leader, the same corporal they had encountered in Wilhelmsburg, and he knew instantly where they would eventually stop: Milo’s inn. Roo hesitated and decided against heading directly there. He had business to conduct and, besides, he was pretty sure this would be a matter between Erik and his half brother Manfred. If the Baron needed to speak with Roo Avery, he could come looking for him after he finally found Erik. Roo entered the hall.
Erik stood admiring the forge. Nathan and his apprentice Gunther were showing off the changes they had made since Erik had left. They were minor, but Erik made a point of admiring the boy’s work. It was clear he doted on Nathan and had developed much the same attitude that Erik had toward the smith, that of a boy for a foster-father. Nathan’s own children had been killed in an almost forgotten war and he took special pains to care for his apprentices.
“You look fit,” said Nathan. “You like the army?”
Erik said, “There’s much about it I don’t like, but . . . yes, I think I like the order, the sense of knowing what is expected of you.”
Nathan motioned with his head for Gunther to find some task to attend to, leaving them alone. “And the killing?”
Erik shrugged. “Not much. There are times when it’s like hacking wood for the fire. Something you must do. Other times I’m too scared to think. But mostly it’s . . .I don’t know. . .ugly.”
Nathan nodded. “I’ve worked with a lot of soldiers in my day, Erik. Be cautious of those who enjoy the butchery. They serve when the fighting’s hard, but they’re like guard dogs; better to keep them on a short leash most of the time.”
Erik looked at Nathan and their eyes locked. Then Erik smiled. “I promise I’ll never get to liking it.”
“Then you’ll do,” said Nathan, returning Erik’s grin. “Though you’d have been a fine smith, no doubt.”
“Smithing is something I still enjoy. Maybe you’ll let me turn a hand to some—”
Roo approached. “Nathan! Erik!”
Erik said, “How is this mysterious business deal of yours going?”
“Just about finished,” answered Roo with a grin. “A couple of things more and I’ll be ready to go.” He made a face. “Besides, there are soldiers wandering around town looking for you.”
The sound of riders entering the inn’s courtyard cut short Erik’s reply. They left the forge and rounded the barn, entering the courtyard just as the Baron’s five guardsmen were getting ready to dismount.
Erik recognized the leader, the corporal they had encountered two days before. “You,” he said, pointing to Roo and Erik. “The Baron wants a word with you two.”
Roo rolled his eyes heavenward, patting his tunic pocket to ensure he still carried his royal pardon. “Can’t this wait?”
“No! But I’ll give you a choice: ride your own horse or I’ll be happy to drag you behind him.”
Roo said, “I’ll get my horse.”
A few minutes later, Roo and Erik were mounted and rode past the squad. The corporal said, “Wait a minute! Where do you think you’re going?”
They slowed to let the corporal overtake him, then Erik said, “You came cantering in, yet your horses are barely winded and none of them are sweating. So you rode less than a mile to fetch us. Manfred’s camped in the old sheep meadow at the edge of town.”
The corporal looked astonished, but before he could speak, Erik put heels to his horse’s barrel and was off at a canter, Roo a second behind. The squad followed suit, and soon the seven of them were hurrying through the town.
A few minutes later they passed through the buildings at the east edge of town, and as Erik had predicted, they found Manfred’s field tent erected in the old sheep meadow where the King’s Highway intersected the road south.
Erik dismounted and tossed the reins to a guardsman standing near the entrance of the tent. As the five riders came up alongside, Erik regarded the corporal. “What’s your name?” asked Erik.
“Alfred,” said the corporal. “Why?”
Erik smiled. “I just wanted to know. Watch the horse.” Roo and Erik moved to the tent and one of the soldiers there drew aside the flap.