Duncan said, “What are we doing now?”
Roo found his cousin’s attitude irritating lately, as he often complained about not having as much authority as Luis. Roo wanted to give Duncan more authority, but had discovered he lacked Luis’s willingness to work hard. Luis, on the other hand, rarely complained and was always meticulous in whatever task lay before him, while Duncan often was sloppy and left things undone.
Biting back a nasty reply, Roo said, “We’re leaving for Salador in the morning. We have a special cargo to deliver.”
“Salador?” said Duncan. “I know a barmaid there.”
Roo said, “You know a barmaid everywhere, Duncan.”
“True,” said the former mercenary. His mood seemed to brighten visibly with the prospect of a change of scenery.
It was Luis who said, “What cargo for Salador?”
Roo handed over a rolled-up parchment Luis snapped it open and held it up before him, and his eyes widened. “This is incredible.”
The remark caught Duncan’s interest at last. “What is it?” he asked.
“We’re taking a load of goods from the palace to the estates of the Duke of Salador,” answered Roo.
“The King’s cousin?” asked Jason.
“The very same. I have no idea what it is we are carrying, but the Prince of Krondor is sending it by fast freight—us—and we need to make haste. But the price is too good for us not to go. And while there,” he said, holding up the list, “we’ll attempt to identify the two names in Salador.” He mused over the list. “We’ve got a half-dozen names within a week’s ride of Salador. I think we’ll deliver our cargo and then nose around some in the east.”
To his companions he said, “I’m going home to speak with Karli, and then Duncan and I will be departing at first light tomorrow.” To Duncan he said, “Be here and be alert.”
Duncan frowned, but both knew that, given a choice, he was likely to come wandering in around midday with a hangover.
To Luis, Roo said, “You’re in charge while Duncan and I—”
Duncan said, “Wait a minute, cousin. Why not take Luis and leave me here to run things?”
Roo regarded his cousin a moment; that request could only mean Duncan had a new barmaid or serving wench who had caught his fancy. With ill humor Roo said, “Because I prefer to return here next month and find I am still in business.”
He ignored Duncan’s dark expression as he continued his interrupted instructions to Luis. “You are in charge, and if you have any unusual needs, see Karli. Jason knows what our resources are, so if something comes your way that depletes us of our money, make certain it’s a sure thing.”
Luis smiled. Many times he had said to Roo there were no “sure things.” “Understood,” he said.
Roo said, “Jason, you’re doing a good job with the ledgers. Now, can you start a fresh set of accounts for me, beginning the day I took sole control of the company?”
Jason said, “I can do that.”
Roo said, “Good, and label them ‘Avery and Company.” He turned to the door, then stopped. “And don’t mention that last bit about the name change to Karli until I return.”
Jason and Luis exchanged glances, but neither spoke. Roo left the office and began the long walk home. The city streets were crowded as sundown approached. Vendors hawked their wares, trying for that last sale before they called it a day and returned to their own homes, while messengers hurried to carry that last missive of the day.
Roo wended his way through the press, and by the time he reached home, the sun had set behind the buildings opposite the Grindle house. He glanced around and suddenly realized how dingy this place looked, even when not overwhelmed by shadows. He once more vowed that as soon as he could afford it, he would move his wife to newer, more sumptuous quarters.
He opened the door and entered. Karli was in the kitchen, talking with the cook, Rendel, and Mary, the maid. Mary saw Roo first and said, “Oh, sir. It’s the lady.” Since the wedding, the maid had taken to referring to Karli as “the lady of the house,” or simply, “the lady,” as if she were the wife of nobility. Roo found he liked that, as well as being referred to as “the master,” or “sir.”
Roo took a moment and then the scene registered. Karli stood at the large chopping block that dominated the kitchen, holding tightly to the edge. Her hand was white, she was gripping so tightly. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Rendel, a huge woman of unknowable years, said, “She’s off her feed, poor dear.”
Roo frowned, not being quite sure he liked having his wife referred to as if she were livestock. “Karli?”