Erik smiled as he stood at Roo’s side, while the priest of Sung the White, Goddess of Purity, blessed the child on her naming day. At the appropriate moment, Roo quickly handed the child back to Karli.
The priest said, “Abigail Avery, in this, your pure and innocent time of life, know that you are blessed in the sight of the goddess. If you remain true and good, doing harm to no one, then shall you abide in her grace. Blessed be her name.”
“Blessed be,” Roo, Karl, and Erik repeated, completing the ritual of greeting.
The priest nodded and smiled and said, “She’s a beautiful girl.”
Roo forced a smile. He had so expected a son that when, a week before, Karli had begun her labor and produced a girl, he had been completely unprepared. They had argued for hours about the boy’s name, Roo wanting to call his son Rupert after himself, so that he could look upon himself as the founder of a dynasty, but Karli holding out for Helmut, after her father. Then, at the moment Karli had asked, “What shall we name her?” Roo had stood dumbfounded, without an answer.
Karli had asked, “Might we name her Abigail after my mother?” and Roo had nodded, not having words to express himself.
The priest left the bedchamber, and Karli put the child at her breast. Erik motioned for Roo to follow him and led his friend out of the room.
“She’ll be a fine daughter,” said Erik.
Roo shrugged as he walked down the stairs with Erik. “I guess. Truth to tell, I expected a boy. Maybe next time.”
Erik said, “Don’t be too disappointed. I think Karli would be very upset if you were disappointed.”
“Do you?” said Roo, glancing up the stairs. “Well, I’ll go back and fuss a little over the child and pretend I’m thrilled.”
Erik’s gaze narrowed, but he said nothing. He moved toward the door and retrieved his cloak and a broad-brimmed slouch hat. It was raining in Krondor, and he had gotten soaked coming to witness the ceremony. “I guess I might as well tell you now,” he said as his hand rested on the door latch.
“What?”
“I probably won’t be seeing you for some time.”
“Why?” asked Roo, his face betraying something close to panic. Erik was one of the few people in the world he felt he could trust and rely upon.
“I’m leaving. Soon. It was supposed to be Jadow, but he broke his leg last week.” He lowered his voice. “I can’t tell you where, but I think you know.”
Roo’s expression revealed concern. “How long?”
“I don’t know. We’ve got . . . some bloody work ahead of us, and well, it may be a very long time.”
Roo gripped his friend’s arm as if to hold him there. After a moment he squeezed Erik’ s arm and said, “Stay alive.”
“If I can I will.”
Then Roo had his arms around his friend, hugging him closely. “You’re the only damn brother I ever had, Erik von Darkmoor. I’ll be very angry if I learn you’re dead before you get a chance to see my son.”
Erik awkwardly returned the, hug, then disengaged himself from Roo. “Keep an eye on Greylock. He was supposed to go, but de Loungville threw a fit at being left behind. . . .” Erik managed a wry smile. “It’s going to be an interesting trip. Sure you don’t want to come with us?”
Roo laughed a humorless laugh. “I can do without that sort of ‘interesting.’” He motioned toward the upstairs room. “I have people to take care of.”
“So you do,” said Erik with a smile. “Just see you do a good job or I’ll be back to haunt you.”
“Just come back and you can do what you want,” said Roo.
Erik nodded, opened the door, and was gone.
Roo stood motionless, feeling an absence more profound than any he had known in his life. He remained there for a while, and when he at last broke out of his reverie, he pulled his cloak off the peg and left for the shop. He forgot to go upstairs and make a fuss over the baby.
Jason signaled to Roo, who moved across the crowded warehouse. Business had been building steadily for the last six months, and now they had twenty-six full-time drivers and a score of apprentices.
“What is it?” asked Roo.
Jason held out a parchment without any seal on it. The only marking on the outside was Roo’s name. “This was just delivered. It came by royal post.”
Roo took it and opened it. It said: “A Quegan trader has put in at Sarth. John.”
Roo’s brow furrowed as he considered the importance of the message, then he said, “Tell Duncan we leave at once for Sarth.”
Jason nodded. Duncan came from the small apartment he and Luis still shared in the rear; Jason had taken Roo’s space in the tiny apartment, since Roo was now living with his family. “What is it?” he asked, obviously having been wakened from a nap.
“Remember John Vinci up at Sarth?”
Duncan yawned widely as he nodded. “What of him?”
“He’s sent us a message.”
“What’s it say?” asked Duncan.
“A Quegan trader has put in.”