Rage of a Demon King

  “Yes,” said the younger Captain, and it was obvious he didn’t like what he was hearing.

  “Now get yourself back to your command, de Beswick, while I decide what I’m going to say to Knight-Marshal William in my next missive.”

  As the Captain started to leave, Greylock said, “One more thing, de Beswick.”

  “Sir?” asked the Captain.

  “If Captain Calis had been here, he would have killed you, and that’s a certainty.”

  After the young commander of the garrison had departed, Owen went looking for Erik. He found him in the soldiers’ commons, asking the men of his command what had happened.

  “It was nothing,” said a man named Gunther. “It was a lark, pure and simple, Sergeant Major. We were tired after a long day of parading—”

  “Parading?” asked Erik.

  “Yes, standing formations, marching up and down, turnin’ right, then left, that sort of business.”

  Another man, an old soldier named Johnson, said, “It’s that Eastern Army sort of business, Sergeant Major. Not fighting, but marchin’ in lines and the like.”

  “Anyway, those four lads just wanted to nick a little ale from the ale shed, nothing criminal.”

  Erik could see the men were in a foul mood, and he didn’t blame them. If caught, the men should have stood extra punishment watches, or at worst a flogging, but to hang them was beyond excuse. He was about to say something when Greylock spoke. “Erik, a word with you.”

  Erik came over to the former Swordmaster from Darkmoor and said, “I know, I shouldn’t have interfered.”

  Seeing they were out of hearing range of the soldiers, Owen said, “Probably you should have killed him, but that’s not the issue. Give him a wide berth; he may be looking to goad you.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s from a well-connected family in Bas-Tyra. His father is a cousin to the Duke of Ran.”

  Comprehension dawned on Erik. “Which means his family is probably close to the von Darkmoors.”

  “Maybe. I know they know each other, but close? I don’t really know. He could be one of Mathilda’s agents,” said Owen. The slender man rubbed his chin in thought. “Or some idiot who thinks to curry favor from the Baron’s mother by ridding her of a bothersome threat to her son’s title.”

  Erik sighed. “How many times do I have to tell the world I have no interest in my father’s title?”

  Owen said, “No matter how many times you do say it, Mathilda won’t be satisfied until you’re dead.”

  “What should I do?”

  “I’ll send a note to Duke James and let him intercede with William to transfer this idiot to someplace where he may die gloriously for the King. I’m going to recommend he command the catapults on the seawall they’re building in Krondor.”

  Erik winced. “I thought it was going to be manned by volunteers.”

  “It is. We’ll just see that young de Beswick volunteers.” Owen smiled. “Take your other company out at first light. Don’t linger here. I have to move on to Eggly and see to the defenses there. We’re going to have to put up a convincing fight throughout these hills to force the Emerald Queen’s army where we want it.”

  Erik sighed. So much to do and so little time to prepare. He knew the fleet had departed from Novindus; all those who had served with Calis across the sea knew that. “What of Krondor?”

  Owen shrugged. “Rumors. Some timid folks are starting to leave the city. Nothing that’s stirring up real alarm. There’s a lot of movement along the Keshian frontier, so many folks are thinking we may have war in the south again.”

  “It’s going to be difficult to keep the city under control once the fleet clears the Straits,” said Erik.

  “I know. I expect James and William have come up with a solution.”

  Erik said nothing more. The Queen’s fleet would clear the Straits in less than a month’s time, at the Midsummer Festival. He had fears that the city would be the ultimate sacrifice for the good of the Kingdom, but the problem for him was that the girl he loved was in the city. As Erik left Owen, and gave orders that the company in the garrison would be rotated out in the morning, he wondered if he could prevail upon Roo to help get Kitty out of Krondor.

  Roo looked at the books and said, “I don’t understand.”

  Jason took that to mean he was vague on the methods of accounting, and began explaining it again.

  “No,” interrupted Roo. “I know the sums and the calculations. What I mean is I don’t understand why we’re losing money.”

  Jason, the former waiter at Barret’s who had become the chief accountant for Roo’s financial empire, said, “It’s a problem with too many debts not being paid to us and too many bills we’re paying in timely fashion. We’re borrowing money for things we should have paid for out of our cash reserves.”

  “Which are nonexistent,” said Roo. He had lent every available golden sovereign to Duke James. “Well, I have about as much chance of a loan repayment from the Crown anytime soon as I do of learning how to fly.” He sighed, stood up from the table in his office and said, “What do you recommend?”

  Jason, still looking much like the youth who had first befriended Roo three years earlier, said, “You could sell off some of our less profitable concerns.”

  “True, but I hate to get rid of capital assets.” He yawned. “I’m tired.” Glancing out the window, he saw that night had fallen. “What of the clock?”

  Jason turned and looked down the hall to where the fancy Keshian timepiece had been erected. “It’s almost seven of the clock.”

  “Karli will be furious,” he said. “I promised to be home at six.”

  “The family’s in the city?”

  “Yes,” said Roo, grabbing his cloak and hurrying down the hall.

  Fortunately, by the time Roo reached his house, he found Karli lost in conversation with Helen Jacoby. The two women had struck up a guarded friendship after the death of Randolph Jacoby, awkward because Randolph’s brother had been responsible for the death of Karli’s father. But in the main they seemed to enjoy each other’s company, and the four children played well together. And Roo found that he always enjoyed those evenings when both families gathered.

  “There you are,” said Karli. “Supper will be served in a few moments.”

  Cries of “Daddy!” and “Uncle Rupert!” filled the hall as the children swarmed over him. Laughing, Roo fought his way through the tangle of legs and grasping hands, and made his way to the stairs.

  As Abigail started to follow him up the stairs, he said, “I’ll be down shortly, darling.”

  “No!” she announced imperiously. “Go away!”

  With a regal turn, she walked to the end of the hall and stood with her arms crossed. From his position on the stairs, Roo glanced at the two women in the parlor, and Helen was laughing, while Karli looked astonished.

  Helen said, “They all go through that.”

  Roo nodded and hurried up to his and Karli’s room, where he washed up and changed his shirt. He returned to the dining room, where the children carried on at one end of the long table while Roo and Karli sat with Helen Jacoby at the other end.

  Roo noticed Helen had taken to wearing her hair up in the new style, curls set around the forehead, and ringlets falling from an odd-looking comb. Roo wondered if it would be rude to ask what the comb was made of, then realized he had almost no idea what the latest fashions in the Prince’s City were.

  He thought Sylvia would know, and then realized he rarely saw Sylvia dressed anymore, and besides somehow it seemed improper to be thinking of her while his wife and Helen were sitting next to him.

  “Why, Roo,” said Helen, “you’re blushing!”

  Roo feigned a cough, then said, “Something in my throat.” He made a display of furiously coughing, then dabbing at nonexistent tears in his eyes with his napkin.

  Helen laughed again, and Roo was astonished to discover how lovely she was. He had always thought of her as a fin
e-looking woman—nothing like the beauty Sylvia was, but in her evening finery with her hair done up, she was quite attractive.

  Karli said, “Helen tells me you are doing well by her in running her company.”

  Roo shrugged. “It pretty much runs itself. Tim Jacoby”—he was about to say the man was a swine who knew his business, but given his sister-in-law was sitting there, he changed it to—“was very organized.”

  “Yes, he was,” agreed Helen.

  Conversation turned to discussing small items of importance to the children and the landmarks of their growth. The boys were starting to act like boys and the girls were becoming girls, and the mysteries of children still seemed to Roo uncharted territory.

  He looked at his own children and realized he knew next to nothing about them. He barely paid them any attention, and suddenly he felt very odd about that. Perhaps when they were older, they’d have something interesting to say to him.

  His gaze wandered again to Helen Jacoby, and after a moment she looked his way. Realizing he was staring, he said, “Would you care for brandy?”

  Karli looked surprised. In their house, he had never offered brandy to anyone but his business associates.

  “No, thank you,” she said. “By the time we get home it will be the children’s bedtime.”

  The Jacoby family departed, riding in one of Roo’s carriages, and Karli put the children to bed. Roo sat alone in his study for a while, drinking a brandy that he could hardly taste. His mind was lost in worry; he knew that the war was coming and that it was time to get his family to the East, or at least out to his estate, ready to flee from there.

  Conversations with Erik and Jadow Shati and others who trusted him had revealed the presence of invaders already within the borders of the Kingdom. Most of those had been neutralized, but when the fighting erupted, who knew how dangerous travel to the East would become.

  Karli came down the stairs and asked, “Are you coming to bed?”

  “Yes,” said Roo, “in a few minutes.” As his wife started to turn away, he observed, “You seem to like Helen and her children.”

  Karli said, “Yes, I do. Her people and mine came from the same village, and we have a lot in common. And her children are sweet.”

  An idea came to Roo. “When the Midsummer Festival has passed, what do you say to having the Jacobys out to the estate for a few weeks? The children can swim in the stream, and ride horses.”

  “Roo, they’re too little to ride.”

  “Well then, we’ll get them some pony carts.” He stood up. “The weather will be beastly hot and it will be much nicer out there.”

  Karli said in a guarded tone, “You’re not trying to get me out of the way, are you Rupert?”

  Alarmed that she might suspect his affair with Sylvia, Roo took her in his arms. “Not that. I just think I’d like some quiet time with my family, that’s all.”

  “Having four children in the house instead of just two is hardly my idea of quiet,” said Karli.

  “You know what I mean,” he said, playfully swatting her bottom. He kissed her, and she responded, “Let’s go to bed.”

  While somewhat distracted by worry, he was still able to please Karli, and after their lovemaking she lay asleep in his arms. He found himself visited by an odd confusion, for as was often the case he was thinking of someone else while making love to his wife, but this time he found himself thinking not of Sylvia Esterbrook but rather of Helen Jacoby.

  Remembering Gwen, the serving girl back in Ravensburg whom he had lost his virginity to, he silently said to himself, “Gwen’s right; we are all pigs.”

  Fatigue drove away this moment of lucidity, and Roo fell into a deep sleep.

  Erik read the orders and said, “We’re recalled to Krondor.”

  Corporals Harper and Reed both saluted and moved out briskly, calling out commands to the soldiers spread out in the hills.

  Erik wiped his brow and calculated. He knew that most of the men in the hills were among the last to be trained, the last to be considered for the critical task of limiting the ability of the invaders to expand their front anywhere except where Prince Patrick and his advisers permitted. Most of these men would be assigned to the defense of the city, and if Erik judged things rightly, those garrison units slated to defend in the hills would soon be moving along in small groups, patrols ostensibly, so the Emerald Queen’s agents would have little to report.

  Erik admired Knight-Marshal William’s plans, for it now looked as if all units scattered throughout the West were being recalled for the defense of the city.

  Erik squinted at the sun. Midsummer was less than two weeks away, and he knew the Emerald Queen’s fleet must be nearing the Straits of Darkness. It was hotter than usual for this time of the year, and he knew that meant it was likely to be a miserable summer.

  As the men gathered, he considered that even if the weather were perfect, it would be a miserable summer. Still, by the time the invaders reached these mountains, it would be late fall, and if they could hold them until the winter snows, the Kingdom would survive.

  Harper returned, saying, “Word’s been passed, Sergeant Major, and we’ll be ready to march within the hour.”

  “Very good,” said Erik. “Have you spotted Captain Greylock in the last few hours?”

  “About an hour ago, that way.” The Corporal pointed down the road.

  “When they’re ready, don’t wait for me, start them for Krondor.” He glanced around the hills. “We have four hours of sunlight left, and I want a good ten miles behind us before we think about making camp.”

  “Yes, Sergeant Major.”

  Erik mounted his horse and headed down the road to find Greylock by the side of the road, reading a map.

  “Owen,” said Erik as he rode up.

  “Erik,” said Owen. “Are you ready to march?”

  “In the process,” said Erik, as he dismounted. “The corporals are getting them ordered and they should be under way in the next few minutes.” Erik sat heavily on the side of the road and said, “I guess we’re done up here.”

  “Done with training,” said Greylock. He let his horse crop grass at the roadside as he sat with Erik. “Next time we’re up here, we’ll be doing it for real.”

  Erik said, “I’ve wished a thousand times for a few more days, a week, anything, to get these men into better shape.”

  “You’ve done wonders,” said Greylock. “Honestly, I can’t imagine anyone could have gotten more from the men than you did, Erik. Not Calis, not Bobby de Loungville.”

  “Thanks for that, Owen.” Erik sighed. “I still worry that it’s not enough.”

  “That hardly makes you unique, my young friend.”

  “Has Lord William told you what we’re going to do?”

  “Yes,” said Greylock. He nodded back up the road. “At least our part of it. I can guess the rest.”

  “We’re going to lose Krondor, aren’t we?”

  “Probably,” said Greylock. “You’ve seen what happens to cities that resist the Queen, but we’ve got to hold her at Krondor long enough so she gets into the mountains late.”

  Erik looked up at the high, pale blue sky streaked with faint clouds far above. “If this weather holds, it could be a long summer.”

  Greylock sighed. “I know. Prince Patrick has had some magicians with weather sight trying to gauge that, and they all say a long summer is likely.”

  Erik said, “I keep wondering about those magicians. The Queen uses them. Why don’t we?”

  Owen smiled. “I expect we’ll have a few magical surprises in store for them. But do you remember Nakor’s explanation of why you don’t use magicians in warfare? He repeated it often enough.”

  Erik laughed. “Yes, I remember. ‘First magician throws spell in battle, then second magician throws counterspell, then third magician try to help first magician, and fourth magician try to aid second, then army shows up and chops them all while they’re throwing magic around,’” he mimicked. br />
  Greylock laughed. “You do a terrible impression of Nakor.”

  Erik shrugged. “But the point is, if we don’t do something to counter her magicians we let them have a terrible advantage.”

  Greylock stood. “Ah, my bones are getting too old for all this riding over the countryside.” As he pulled his horse away from the grass at the roadside, he made a display of being old. Erik laughed. Greylock put the reins over the horse’s head, then set foot into stirrup and mounted. Once in the saddle he said, “Erik, the more you talk, the more you sound like a Knight-General instead of a Sergeant Major.

  So don’t be asking those sorts of questions around the Prince, or he might promote you.”

  Erik laughed. “In other words, keep my mouth shut.”

  “As I said,” continued Greylock. “The Prince has some surprises up his sleeve, I’m sure.”

  Erik mounted. “I’ll see you when I get the men back to the city.”

  “Good,” said Greylock. “Oh, and one other thing.”

  “What?”

  “The local commanders are being called in for a last-minute council. The cover story is they’re coming in to celebrate Banapis with the Prince, but we know why. So that means de Beswick will be in Krondor.”

  “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

  “Good. The festival in Krondor is nothing like what you’re used to.”

  Erik nodded. Since coming to the Prince’s service, he had managed to be out of the city every Banapis. He had never seen the city celebrate the Midsummer Festival. “I’ll try not to get too distracted.”

  Erik rode back toward where his men should be mustering. He hadn’t encountered de Beswick since leading this second company into the mountains. But the suspicion that he could be one of Mathilda von Darkmoor’s agents was not lost on Erik. Besides, Erik had four reasons to keep an eye on the man even if he wasn’t.