Erik’s gaze narrowed. “Don’t discount your own counsel too much, Dash. I’m sure your father and the Prince will want your opinion on the matter.”
Dash sat back, swallowed another mouthful, and said, “I have one idea. Just pardon everyone inside the walls and get on with it.” He motioned with a fork over his shoulder. “I have no illusions about those mother-killers back there, and even fewer about the Mockers, despite my grandfather’s wonderful stories. Most of those invaders would be rioting within weeks if they were forced to play garrison soldiers, and the thieves will be cutting purses or throats within a day of being pardoned.” Speaking around a mouthful of food, Dash shook his head. “No, the only difference between having the Mockers help us to get into the city or having Duko open the gates is me keeping a promise.”
Erik raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”
“Only if the Mockers decide I forswore my promise and put a death mark on me.”
Erik nodded. “Let me know if I can help.”
Dash said, “I will. Though I suspect Father and Jimmy have persuaded Patrick to do whatever it is that Patrick is going to do.”
“Well, do you want to wait here and see if they’re heading our way? I could send word you’re alive. Or do you want to ride on to Darkmoor?”
Dash yawned. “Right now I just want to sleep on something softer than a pile of straw on a stone floor.”
Erik gave him a rueful look. ‘ “Then you might do well to ride on tonight. We don’t have a lot of down-stuffed mattresses in camp.”
“I know,” said Dash, pushing himself back from the table. “I was just expressing a desire. I’ll take a soldier’s pallet if that’s what fate provides. I’ve slept on the ground with this tattered cloak wrapped around me for the last three nights.”
“Well, we’ll get you some better clothing,” said Erik. “We have spares, though you’ll be back in uniform.”
Dash shrugged. “As long as they’re free of lice and fleas, I won’t complain about fashion.”
Erik laughed. “You can always hang your rags over the campfire.”
“A dog soldier’s washing,” said Dash. “Yes, I’ve heard of that approach; then your clothing stinks of woodsmoke for days. I’ll settle for a uniform and you can burn these.”
Erik laughed. “You can have the extra bedroll over there and bunk in with me tonight. I’ll try not to wake you when I turn in later.” He moved toward the tent flap. “I have to check on some things before. . .” He turned and saw that Dash was already on the pallet and asleep. Moving outside, Erik turned his mind to the tasks at hand, though for a brief moment he considered how odd the situation before him was becoming.
Well, he decided, he’d leave it to the Prince and Duke to decide if Duko was being straightforward or not, and then, as always was the case, he would follow his orders the best way he knew how.
Pug reined in and the leader of his escort shouted the order to halt. The patrol heading toward them was decked out in the black of Krondor’s Crimson Eagles, the special unit founded by Calis, Erik von Darkmoor’s predecessor, and at their head was a familiar face from the last winter at Darkmoor.
“Nakor! Magician!” shouted Jadow Shati, Lieutenant of the company. “What brings you this way?” He signaled behind him and his patrol also halted.
“We’re up to see Captain Subai and then on to see if we can sort out this mess with the Saaur,” said Pug.
Jadow’s brilliant smile suddenly fled. “Man, ask Nakor. We’ve faced them Saaur, down across the sea. Tough and fast. Takes three of us for each one of them unless we’re heavily armored. What do you think the chances are of the Prince sending the Royal Lancers this way, magician?”
“I’m hoping that I can convince the Saaur that fighting us is a waste on both sides.”
“Well, that would be novel. From what I’ve seen of them, peaceful isn’t the first word that springs to mind when thinking of them.” He glanced over his shoulder, then said, “Ride on another hour and you’ll hit our main camp. I’m out for a couple of days, so perhaps I’ll see you on your way back.” He looked at Nakor. “How’s your new religion going?”
Nakor sighed theatrically. “Being good is difficult, Jadow.”
The good-natured former Sergeant laughed. “You state the obvious, my little friend.” He waved his patrol after him. “Let’s ride.” As he passed the leader of the patrol from Krondor, he accepted their sergeant’s salute with a wave and nod.
Pug said, “Let’s go see the Captain.”
Nakor said, “Let’s go eat. I’m hungry.”
Pug laughed. “You’re always hungry, my friend.”
“You know,” said Nakor as they rode along, “I had this odd notion—”
“Really,” said Pug, interrupting. “You’ll have to tell me of it some other time.”
Nakor laughed. “No, I mean really odd.”
“Definitely some other time,” said Pug.