Rise of a Merchant Prince. Raymond E. Feist

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      Erik glanced at Sho Pi and said, ‘We’ve got to go below and get our kits. Then we’ll join you on the dock.’

      Roo was a step ahead of his friend as they hurried below, bade farewell to the sailors who had become friends, and found Jadow Shati, another of their company of ‘desperate men,’ just finishing gathering up his few possessions.

      ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Roo as he quickly grabbed his small kit.

      ‘A drink, I’m thinking.’

      ‘Join us,’ said Erik.

      ‘I think I will, as soon as I tell Mr Robert de Loungville, the little swine, that I’m taking up his offer of becoming his corporal.’

      Erik blinked. ‘Corporal? He offered me the position.’

      Before the two men could begin arguing, Roo said, ‘From what he said, he’s going to need more than one.’

      The two large men exchanged glances, then both laughed. Jadow’s face settled into a grin, teeth dramatically white against his ebony skin, an expression so happy that it always made Roo smile in response. Like the other desperate men, Jadow had been a killer and lifelong criminal, but in the brotherhood of Calis’s company he had found men for whom he was willing to die and who would die for him.

      Roo hated to admit it, as one who flattered himself for being completely selfish, but he loved the survivors of that company almost as much as he loved Erik. Rough men all, dangerous by any standards, they had passed through a bloody trial together, and each knew he could depend on the others.

      Roo thought about those lost on the journey: Biggo, the large, laughing thug with a strange streak of piety running through him; Jerome Handy, a giant of a man with a violent temper who could tell a tale like an actor and make shadow play on the wall that came alive; Billy Goodwin, an otherwise gentle youth with a violent temper, who had been cut down in a pointless accident before ever understanding anything of life; and Luis de Savona, the Rodezian cutthroat whose wit was as sharp as his dagger, who knew both court intrigue and dark-alley brawls; a man of temper and strange loyalties. Roo tied his bundle and turned to see both Erik and Jadow watching him.

      ‘What is it?’

      ‘You were lost there a moment,’ said Erik.

      ‘I was thinking about Biggo and the others …’

      Erik nodded. ‘I understand.’

      ‘Maybe some of them will show up when Trenchard’s Revenge gets here,’ ventured Jadow.

      Roo said, ‘That would be fine.’ Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he added, ‘But Billy and Biggo won’t.’

      Erik nodded. He and Roo had watched Biggo die in Maharta, and Erik had seen Billy fall from his horse, cracking his head on a rock.

      The three men were silent as they climbed back on deck and hurried down the gangway to find Robert de Loungville chatting with Nakor and Sho Pi.

      ‘Hey now, you vile runt of a man!’ said Jadow without ceremony to the man who for nearly three years had controlled his life.

      De Loungville turned. ‘Who are you talking to like that, you Valeman scum!’

      ‘You, Bobby de Loungville, Sergeant sir!’ snapped back Jadow, but Erik could easily see the mocking humor in both men’s expressions. Battle had made him very aware of his companions’ every mood, and he knew they were having fun with each other. ‘And who are you calling “scum"? We men of the Vale are the best fighting men in the world, don’t you know, and we are usually wiping our boots to clean them of something that resembles you.’ He sniffed loudly, bending forward as if to make sure de Loungville was the source of the offending odor. ‘Yes, very much like you.’

      De Loungville grabbed one of Jadow’s cheeks and pinched it as a mother does a child’s, saying, ‘You’re so lovely I should kiss you.’ Playfully slapping him on the face, he said, ‘But not today.’

      To the group, de Loungville said, ‘Where are you off to?’

      ‘Drinks!’ said Nakor with a grin.

      De Loungville rolled his eyes heavenward. ‘Well, don’t kill anyone.’ He asked Jadow, ‘You coming back?’

      Jadow grinned. ‘I don’t know why, but yes.’

      His own smile vanishing, de Loungville said, ‘You know exactly why.’

      Instantly all humor fled. Each man had seen exactly what the others had, and all knew that a terrible enemy gathered across the sea, and that no matter how much had been accomplished in recent months, the struggle had only just started. A decade or more might pass before the final confrontation with the armies gathered under the banner of the Emerald Queen, but eventually every man living in the Kingdom would either stand and fight or die.

      After a moment’s silence, de Loungville waved them down the street. ‘Get away with you. Don’t have too much fun.’ As the men walked off, he called after, ‘Erik, you and Jadow be back here tomorrow to get your papers. On the day after, you’re deserters! And you know we hang deserters!’

      ‘That man,’ said Jadow as they moved down the street in search of an inn. ‘Always with them threats. He has an unnatural love of hanging, don’t you know?’

      Roo laughed and the rest joined in, and the mood lightened as an inn seemed to appear by magic on the corner before them.

      Roo awoke, his head pounding and his mouth dry. The inside of his eyes felt as if someone had put sand behind the lids, and his breath smelled as if something had crawled into his mouth and died. He moved and Erik let out a groan, so he moved the other way, only to find Jadow groaning and pushing him away.

      With no other choice, he sat up and instantly wished he had remained asleep. He forced himself to keep whatever was in his stomach from coming up and at last managed to focus his eyes.

      ‘Oh, wonderful,’ he said, and instantly regretted talking. His own voice made his head hurt.

      They were in a cell. And unless Roo was mistaken, he knew exactly what cell. It was a long cell, open along one side to a hall, with floor-to-ceiling bars and a door with a heavy iron lock plate. Slightly above head height opposite the bars, a long window, less than two feet in height, ran the length of the cell. He knew the cell was below ground level, as the window was only a foot or so above ground, giving a peculiar angle so those inside the cell could see the scaffold dominating the courtyard beyond. He was now in the death cell beneath the Prince of Krondor’s palace.

      He pushed Erik and his friend groaned as if tortured. Roo shook him insistently and at last Erik came awake. ‘What?’ he said as he tried to focus his attention on his friend’s face. ‘Where are we?’

      ‘Back in the death cell.’

      Erik looked instantly sober. He glanced around and saw Nakor curled up in the corner, snoring, while Sho Pi lay a short distance away.

      They shook the others awake and took stock. Several of them were splattered with dried blood, and they all nursed an assortment of bruises, scrapes, and cuts. ‘What happened?’ croaked Roo, his voice sounding as if he’d СКАЧАТЬ