As if nothing was amiss, Roo said, “Did you talk to Henrik today?”
Erik knew who Roo spoke of, a young man from a village not too far from Ravensburg who served with another squad, but one whom he had barely exchanged a dozen words with over the course of his travels. Henrik was a dull man with little to say.
“No, not today,” answered Erik, wondering what Roo was leading up to.
Lowering his voice, Roo said, “He says he might come back here after we’re done. Says he likes it and might just settle down”—he looked at Embrisa—“find a wife, and set up a mill.”
Embrisa’s eyes widened. “He’s a miller?”
“His father was one, or so he says.”
Embrisa said, “Well, I must go. Sorry you can’t come to supper, Erik.”
After the girl was gone, Erik said, “Thanks.”
“I was over there and heard what was going on,” said Roo with a grin. “I figure a miller is the only one likely to make more money here than a smith, so I thought I’d give your young friend another target.”
Erik said, “Is Henrik really thinking of staying, or are you just making trouble?”
“Well, I don’t know how much trouble, given she’s a saucy lass with an ample bosom and a firm young bottom. If she nets our friend the miller’s son, who knows? It could be true love, and he could indeed be thinking of staying by tomorrow.”
Erik shook his head. “Or hiding from her father.”
“Maybe, but as her father’s downriver with his wife and their sons, leaving Embrisa here alone, I suspect she was laying a snare for you.” He glanced at where the girl had gone. “Though I think it might have been a pleasant one for a night.”
“The girl’s not yet fifteen years old, Roo,” said Erik.
“Around here, that’s old enough for motherhood,” answered Roo. “Anyway, it won’t do the lass much good getting either of you in her bed, ’cause the Captain’s not likely to let any of us wander off.”
“True,” agreed Erik.
“And besides, we’re leaving in two days.”
“What?”
“Riders from the south came in about ten minutes ago with messages. Some more soldiers are joining us in two days’ time, and we all ride north.”
“Well, I’d better get to work,” said Erik. “I’ve got to sort out this horse business with Zila’s men. I think we’ll have to leave about a dozen horses here.”
“The villagers will love that,” said Roo with a grin. “The ones they can’t use for plowing they’ll eat.”
Erik nodded, knowing he wasn’t really joking. “Come on, give me a hand.”
Roo grumbled, but he followed Erik back into the corral to cut out the lame horses.
Erik looked toward the southern gate expectantly. Zila and his renegades had left the night before, as agreed, and now the new company from the south that was to join them was coming in ahead of schedule. De Loungville had already passed word: if the southern riders showed up before noon, they were off as soon as the company was mustered, all save a dozen men who would hold this fortress against the need of a southern retreat. Now the work made sense to Erik. A dozen well-armed soldiers could hold this village against up to three times that number of bandits, and if the villagers joined in the fight, it would require a small army to take it.
Already, without the order being given, men were hurrying to get ready to move out. Then Erik caught sight of a familiar figure among those riding in the gate. “Greylock!” Erik exclaimed.
Owen Greylock turned. Gripping Erik’s arm in a gesture of greeting, he then pulled him to his chest with a slap on the back. Releasing the young man, he said, “You look well.”
“We thought we spied that grey banner of yours on the deck of the Ranger one day in passage, but we didn’t see you come ashore.”
Pulling loose a scarf that had been around his face to cut the road dust, the former Swordmaster of Darkmoor said, “That’s because I didn’t. I sailed on with a couple of others to the City of the Serpent River to make some arrangements, then on to Maharta to take care of some other matters. After the Ranger left for Krondor, it was ride like hell for a week getting up to Lanada, then another back-breaker getting here.”
Soldiers in various dress were riding in the south gate. “Who are they?” asked Erik dubiously.
“Don’t let the ragged cut of their outfits fool you. Those are some of the best soldiers from around these parts, handpicked by our friend Praji over the last few years.” Lowering his voice, he said, “We need to blend in.”
“What are you doing here?” asked Erik. “Last I saw of you was before I was arrested.”
“Long story. Let me report to Calis, and after we’ve watered our mounts, share a cup of wine with me and I’ll tell you all.”
“It’s going to have to be at camp tonight,” answered Erik. “We leave in an hour. You’ve only got time to pick some fresh mounts and grab a bite before we’re on our way.”