“I’ve never met her, but she seems a most persuasive woman, by all reports,” offered Nakor.
“That’s one way of putting it,” said Owen. “Well, there isn’t a great demand for discharged Swordmasters, so I applied to the Prince’s Guard for a billet. I was prepared to stand down to man-at-arms if needs be, or to attempt to gain a commission on the frontier. Failing that, I was going to try my hand at the mercenary trade, providing escort for merchant trains down into the Vale of Dreams and Great Kesh.
“But that black heart Bobby de Loungville found me at a tavern and got me very drunk, and I woke up the next day and discovered I was going to be running like a madman from Questor’s View to Land’s End on one errand or another for Prince Nicholas and Calis.”
Owen continued, “That’s a strange customer, our Captain. Did you know he ranks in the court as a Duke?”
Erik said, “I only know him as—”
“The Eagle of Krondor,” finished Owen. “I know. He’s important, that’s all I know. But when the dust settled, I was on the Freeport Ranger, with a list of missions to last three months, and one month to finish them when we made port in Maharta.”
Erik finished his food and said, “Sorry to have put you to this, Owen.”
Owen laughed. “It was in the cards, as the gamblers say. And truth to tell, I was growing bored at Darkmoor. The wine’s the best in the world, and the women as fair as anywhere, but there’s little else to stir a man there. I’ve grown tired of hanging bandits and running escort from one safe city to another. I think it’s time for something grand.”
Nakor shook his head. “There’s little grand ahead of us.” He stood up, yawning. “I’m going to sleep. We have three long days ahead.”
“Why?” asked Erik.
“While you were killing those men, we got word of a rendezvous.”
“What is that?” asked Erik. “I’ve heard that term before.”
“Meeting,” said Owen.
“A great camp,” offered Nakor. With a grin he said, “It is where the two sides in this war will come to make offers for the service of companies like ours. It’s where we will find the army of this Emerald Queen, and then friend Greylock’s adventure will begin.” He wandered off into the gloom.
Owen said, “He may be the strangest man I’ve met. I’ve only talked to him a couple of times since yesterday, but he has some of the oddest notions I’ve ever encountered. But he’s right about one thing: it’s a long day tomorrow and we both need to sleep.”
Erik nodded and took Owen’s bowl. “I’ll wash that up. I’m doing mine anyway.”
“Thank you.”
“And thank you,” replied Erik.
“For what?”
“For talking.”
Owen put his hand upon Erik’s shoulder. “Anytime, Erik. Good night.” He walked after Nakor.
Erik went to the bucket used to clean the wooden bowls and rinsed them with water, scoured them with cleaning sand, then rinsed with fresh water again. He put the bowls where the men who would make the morning mess would expect to find them, and returned to his own tent.
The others were sleeping, except Roo, who said, “Are you all right?”
Erik sighed and said, “I don’t know. But I am better.”
Roo seemed about to make a remark, then thought better of it and turned over to go to sleep. Erik lay in the darkness, and while he intended to practice the self-healing Nakor had taught him, sleep was on him less than a minute after Roo.
*
The camp was immense. At least ten thousand armed men were scattered across a low valley that ran from the hills on the east to the river on the west. Cutting through the middle was a smaller tributary to the Vedra, and along this smaller river camps had been made.
The brokers who were conducting the contracts were arrayed under a large canopy, ocher in color, at the heart of the valley. Erik rode with his companions in their usual position near the head of the column, near enough to Calis to overhear his conversations with the men around him.
Praji pointed. “Some of those banners are damn strange; I thought I knew every company worth talking about in this gods-forsaken continent.” He glanced around. “Some of these others are a long way from home.”
“How is it shaping up?” asked de Loungville.
“It’s early yet. Khaipur fell less than a month ago. If the Emerald Queen’s representatives get here in the next week I’ll be surprised. But I’ll bet you a whore’s hoard that the Priest-King of Lanada is spending money like a sailor in port.” Looking around, he said, “We’d better head up the valley and see if there’s anywhere good near the river.” He sniffed the air. “With the number of these fools pissing in the water after they get drunk, downstream’s the last place I want to be.”