Erik looked as if he were about to pick up Rosalyn, but Roo said, “We must get away!”
Erik said, “What do you mean?”
Roo said, “We’ve killed the Baron’s son, you idiot.”
“But he abused Rosalyn!”
“That doesn’t give us a warrant to execute him, Erik. Do you want to go into court and swear that this was only about Rosalyn? If it had been anyone else in the entire world but your own half brother . . .” He left the thought unfinished.
“We can’t leave her here,” said Erik.
The sounds of men shouting echoed through the night. “She won’t be undiscovered for long. This orchard is going to be swarming with the Baron’s soldiers in a few minutes.” As if to punctuate the observation, Erik could now hear distinct voices as the men advanced toward the orchard.
Roo looked ready to run at a moment’s notice as he looked around the glade. “We didn’t have to kill him, Erik. If we are put in the dock and made to testify, we can’t honestly say we had to kill him.” Roo put his hand on Erik’s arm as if to drag him from the scene. “I wanted him dead, Erik. You did, too. We murdered him.”
Erik found it almost impossible to keep events clear in his head. He knew he had felt something close to murder in his heart as he wrestled with Stefan, but now that was a distant memory, and events were jumbled.
“I’ve got my money, here”—he indicated his travel bundle— “so we can make for Krondor and buy passage to the Sunset Islands.”
“Why there?”
“Because if a man lives for a year and a day in the islands and commits no crime, he’s pardoned for whatever he did before he came there. It’s an old law from when the islands came into the Kingdom.”
“But they’ll be looking for us.”
Rosalyn stirred, with a faint moan of discomfort. Roo leaned down and asked, “Can you hear me?”
The girl didn’t answer. Roo said, “They’ll probably think we’re going to Kesh. A man can hide in the Vale of Dreams and get across the border without much trouble.” The vale, the border between Great Kesh and the Kingdom, was a no-man’s-land of smugglers, bandits, and garrisons along both sides of the frontier. Men came and went and few questions were asked.
Erik moved his shoulder experimentally and felt light-headed when a stabbing pain answered his movement. “This isn’t right,” he said.
Roo shook his head. “If we stay here, we will be hung. Even if we had twenty witnesses, Manfred would make sure we were found guilty.” Roo looked around as a distant shout split the night. “Someone’s coming. We have to go now!”
Erik nodded. “I should go back to the inn—”
“No,” said Roo. “They’ll expect that. We must go down the old western trail. We’ll go all night and cut into the woodlands at daybreak. If they send the dogs after us, we had better be across a dozen streams or more before noon.”
“Mother—” began Erik.
“She’ll be safe,” Roo interrupted. “Manfred has no reason to trouble her. You were always the threat, not your mother.” A shout from the far side of the orchard caused Roo to swear. “They’re on the other side already. We’re trapped!”
Erik said, “There!” He pointed to an old tree both had played in over the years. The centerpiece of the old orchard, the tree was heavily shrouded in leaves and might offer possible haven.
They crossed the short distance to the tree and Roo said, “How’s your shoulder?”
“Hurts like blazes, but I can move it.”
Roo didn’t hesitate but scampered up the tree. He moved as high as he could, leaving the slightly heavier lower branches for Erik. By the time Erik was out of sight, torchlight and lanterns could be seen coming close.
Roo shook for a moment as he lost balance, then regained it, and Erik was now almost sick with pain, fear, and disgust. Stefan’s death was still unreal to him; he could see the dark shape of his body on the ground and expected him to rise up in a moment, as if this were all some mummery put on at a festival.
Then a soldier with a lantern saw Rosalyn. “Master Greylock! Over here!”
Through the leaves, Erik could barely make out the figures that rushed to where Rosalyn and Stefan lay a few yards apart. Then he heard Owen Greylock’s voice. “He’s dead.”
Another voice asked, “How is the girl?”
A third said, “She’s in a bad way, Swordmaster. We should get her to the chirurgeon.”
Then Erik heard Manfred’s shout of rage. “They’ve killed my brother!” An almost inaudible oath and a sobbing cry was followed by “I’ll kill him myself.”
Erik caught a glimpse of Owen Greylock’s slender form between the nearby leaves and heard the Baron’s Swordmaster say, “We’ll find those who did this, Manfred.”