Duncan said, “My guess is that if you’re too stubborn to pay them, they’re making sure everyone else knows the price of doing business with you.”
Roo said, “I’ve only felt more helpless once in my life, and that was when they were about to hang me.”
Duncan had heard the story of how Roo and his friend Erik had been reprieved from the gallows after a mock hanging. “Well, you may not be dead, as they say, but what will we do?”
Roo said, “Start over. What else is there to do?” Then he added, “But first we head for the palace, and the office of the City Watch.”
“What for?”
“To tell them we know the name of the man who was behind this, Sam Tannerson.”
“Do you think that’s his real name?”
“Probably not,” said Roo as he turned in the direction of the palace. “But it’s the one he uses, and it will do.”
Duncan shrugged. “I don’t know what good it’ll do, but as I have no better idea, why not?” He fell in beside his cousin and they began walking toward the Prince of Krondor’s palace.
Erik looked out over the yard where the levies hurried through their drills. He remembered with some guilty pleasure the near fit Alfred, the corporal from Darkmoor, had thrown when informed he was now reduced to the rank of private in the Prince’s new army. The third time Erik had deposited him on his ear on the parade ground had convinced him to shut up and do as he was told. Erik suspected he would turn out to be a better than average soldier if he could learn to control his temper.
“What do you think?” asked Robert de Loungville from behind.
Without turning to look, Erik said, “I’d know better what to think if I knew what exactly you, the Duke, the Prince, and everyone else you meet with every night have in mind.”
“You’ve been down there. You know what’s coming,” said de Loungville without emotion.
“I think we’ve got a few men here who might do well enough,” answered Erik. “These are all seasoned soldiers, but some of them are worthless.”
“Why?” asked Robert.
Erik turned and looked at the man to whom he reported. “Some of them are barracks rats, fit for nothing much more than light garrison duty and three meals a day. I guess their lords decided it was cheaper to let us feed them. Others are too . . .” He struggled for a concept. “I don’t know, it’s like a horse that’s been trained to do one thing, then you want to train him to do another. You’ve first got to break him of the old habits.”
Robert nodded. “Go on.”
“Some of these men just can’t think on their feet. If you’re in a battle and giving orders, they’re going to be fine, but if they’re on their own . . .” Erik shrugged.
Robert said, “Muster all the castle rats and those too set in their ways to think for themselves after the midday meal. We’re going to send them back to their lords and masters. I want the ones who can think on their feet assembled an hour after the first bunch leaves the castle. I need to get this first bunch trained before we do some serious recruiting.”
“Serious recruiting?”
“Never mind. I’ll tell you about it when the time’s right.” Erik saluted and was about to leave when a guardsman hurried out of the castle, saluted, and said, “Sergeant, the Knight-Marshal wants you and the corporal down at the City Watch office at once.”
De Loungville grinned. “What do you think? Want to bet it’s one of our own?”
Erik shrugged. “No bet.”
Erik followed him through the maze of corridors in the Prince’s palace. The original keep, built centuries before to protect the harbor below from Quegan raiders and pirates, had been added to over the years until a large sprawling series of interconnecting buildings with outer walls rested hard against the harbor side and covered the entire hill upon which the old keep was the summit.