“Looks like a wedding band,” observed Erik. The dead man was young, only a few years older than himself. “I wonder if it was intended for his sweetheart. Perhaps he was going to ask her to wed.”
Roo pocketed the ring. “We’ll never know. One thing for certain, he’s never going to get the chance to ask.” Roo took the sword and handed it hilt first to Erik.
“Why me?”
“Because I have my knife and I’ve never used a sword in my life.”
“Neither have I,” protested Erik.
“Well, if you need to, just swing it like your hammer and hope you hit someone. You’re strong enough, you should be able to do a lot of damage if you connect.”
Erik picked up the sword, then pulled the shield off the man’s arm and put it experimentally on his own. It felt alien, but he felt better for having it there.
Roo put the helm on his own head, and when Erik looked at him with a questioning expression, he said, “You’ve got the shield.”
Erik nodded, as if this made sense, and the two set off, leaving the nameless man to the scavengers of the forest. The idea of burial was ignored, as they had no shovel and were concerned that whoever killed the man might still be around.
A short time later they heard movement in the brush ahead. Erik signaled Roo for silence, then motioned that they should circle off to the right. Roo nodded and began walking with a tiptoed exaggeration that would have been comic if Erik hadn’t been as badly frightened as his friend.
They almost walked past the man, but he shifted his weight and they heard the brush he hid in rustle. Then a dull thud sounded as a crossbow bolt sped through the air and struck a tree nearby.
From a short distance away, a fearful voice shouted with false bravado, “I have enough bolts to fell an army, you bastard! You had better leave me alone, or I’ll do to you what I did to your friend.”
Then, from what seemed almost within touching distance, a voice shouted, “Leave your wagon and run, old man. I’ll not bother you, but I mean to have your cargo. You can’t stay awake forever, and if I set eyes on you again, I’ll cut your throat for what you did to Jamie.”
Erik could hardly act, he was so startled by the sound of the man’s voice so close. Roo looked at his friend, eyes wide in fright, and motioned that they should move away. Erik was about to nod agreement when a voice shouted, “Hey!”
Suddenly a man with a sword and shield stood up, less than six feet ahead of them. He saw Erik and Roo and leaped toward them, brandishing his sword as another bolt flew through the air, missing all three of them. Erik reacted. He blindly thrust with the sword, not intending to do more than push the fighter away. The man tried to parry, but he was expecting a feint, not a blind thrust, and Erik’s sword slipped along the man’s blade and the point took him in the stomach.
Both Erik and the man stared at each other with astonishment on their faces, then with what sounded like a faint “Damn” the man collapsed at Erik’s feet.
Erik was rooted in shock, but Roo leaped away and for his trouble was almost impaled by another bolt. “Hey!” he yelped.
“Who is that?” asked a voice from beyond the brush.
Erik hazarded a look through the brush beyond the man he had just killed and saw a wagon sitting in a small clearing. Two horses stood in traces beyond it, and behind it a crouching figure waited.
“We’re not bandits!” cried Roo. “We just killed the man you were shooting at.”
“I’ll shoot you, too, if you come closer,” cried the man behind the wagon.
“We won’t come closer,” shouted Erik, a note of desperation in his voice. “We just blundered into this mess and we don’t want any trouble.”
“Who are you?”
Roo pulled on Erik’s sleeve. “We’re on our way to Krondor, looking for work. Who are you?”
“Who I am is no one’s business but my own.”
Roo got a familiar look, one Erik knew meant Roo was planning something that usually got both of them in trouble. “Look, if you’re a merchant traveling alone, you’re an idiot,” shouted Roo. He spoke now in a voice forced to ease. He looked green at the sight of the dead man. “If you’re out here, you must be a smuggler.”
“I am no damn smuggler! I’m an honest trader!”
“Who’s avoiding paying toll on the King’s Highway,” replied Roo.
“There’s no law against that,” came the answer.
Roo grinned at Erik. “True, but it’s certainly a hard way to save some copper. Look, if we come out slowly, will you promise not to shoot?”
There was silence, then: “Come ahead. But I’ve got a bolt pointed at you.”