“On to thirty golden sovereigns,” he said proudly.
Nathan was impressed. “Quite a beginning. I think I’ll forbear asking how you’ve managed to amass such a young fortune, and”—he turned to Erik—“I suggest you get back to the forge and keep out of sight. When the coach comes in the morning is time enough for your good-byes. If Master Greylock needs another word with you, I’ll send him to you.”
Erik nodded and rose. Roo followed him. The two youngsters passed from the crowded common room to the kitchen, where Rosalyn was hurrying to carry a large platter of steaming greens out to the soldiers. Freida worked feverishly over her stew as if it were just another busy night at the inn and not her last in the home of her birth.
Erik walked outside with Roo, and as he passed the corral, the horses there wandered over to investigate the two boys. Erik inspected their legs out of habit. “Milo will need to order up hay tomorrow,” he muttered to Roo as he slowly walked along the fence. “This lot will have eaten the entire contents of the loft by the time they’ve gone.”
Roo turned and faced Erik while they were walking. He seemed to half skip, half dance to keep from tripping while walking backwards. “Erik, let me come with you.”
Erik said, “Why would you want to come with me?”
“Look, you’re the only real friend I’ve got here, and I’ve got no trade. I wasn’t joking about joining a syndicate. I can get a job in Krondor and invest my money until I’m rich. Once you get to Krondor, you’ll see there are better things to do than return to apprenticeship.”
Erik laughed, and stopped, so Roo wouldn’t have to continue his backward walk. “What about your father?”
“He’d just as soon be rid of me as not,” Roo said with bitterness. “The bastard hasn’t had a kind word for me since Mum died.” Suddenly, as if by magic, a dagger appeared in Roo’s hand, then equally suddenly he returned it to inside his loose shirt. “I can take care of myself if I need to. Now, let me come along.”
Erik said, “I’ll talk to Mother. She’s not likely to offer any encouragement.”
“You’ll talk her into it.”
“Well, assume I do, you need to get your things together and have some copper to pay the coach.”
“Everything I have is in a bundle at my father’s. I’ll run and get it.”
Erik shook his head and watched Roo run off into the night. He glanced around, suddenly feeling melancholy. This would be his last night under the barn roof. It was a poor lodging by any measure; occasionally leaky, drafty, and offering too little protection from winter’s cold and summer’s heat, but it was home. And he’d miss Milo and Rosalyn.
As he returned to his place in the loft, Erik thought of Rosalyn, pretty, but not teasing as Gwen and some of the other girls were. His feelings for her were often tempered by his sense of family. She was the sister of his heart, if not by blood, and while he was as interested in girls as any boy his age, something about Rosalyn made him uneasy. In many ways he’d miss her most of all.
Tired from the long day’s work and from worry, Erik quickly dozed off, only to be startled awake by a sudden feeling of panic. He sat up and looked around the dark barn loft. Unseen enemies were hovering nearby. The sound of men talking carried from the inn, and the horses in the corral and barn snorted. Erik rolled over on his side, head on his arm, thinking about the strange feeling of danger that had suddenly come upon him.
He closed his eyes and again saw Rosalyn’s face. He would miss her, and Milo, and Nathan. Soon he was dozing again. Before he lapsed into a deep sleep, he dreamed he heard Rosalyn gently calling his name.
“Erik!”
Erik came awake with a start as a hand shook his shoulder. He had been hard asleep, in a deep numbing slumber of emotional exhaustion, and he couldn’t quite get his bearings.
“Erik!” Roo’s voice cut through the gloom, and Erik looked up into his friend’s face. Roo was dressed as he had been earlier, but he wore a travel bundle tied around one shoulder, slung over his back.
“What is it?”
“You’d better come quick. Down by the fountain. Rosalyn.”
Erik half leaped down the ladder, Roo scampering down after him as fast as he could. Erik sprinted past the corral of horses and, as he approached the inn, could hear the voices from within. “What time is it?”
“Nine of the clock was the last call. Half past that, I think.”
Erik knew that with this many soldiers in town, some of the town girls would be down at the fountain. But Rosalyn was certainly not likely to be one of them.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know,” answered Roo. “Gwen can tell you.”