The Serpentwar Saga. Raymond E. Feist

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      ‘And thank you,’ replied Erik.

      ‘For what?’

      ‘For talking.’

      Owen put his hand upon Erik’s shoulder. ‘Anytime, Erik. Good night.’ He walked after Nakor.

      Erik went to the bucket used to clean the wooden bowls and rinsed them with water, scoured them with cleaning sand, then rinsed with fresh water again. He put the bowls where the men who would make the morning mess would expect to find them, and returned to his own tent.

      The others were sleeping, except Roo, who said, ‘Are you all right?’

      Erik sighed and said, ‘I don’t know. But I am better.’

      Roo seemed about to make a remark, then thought better of it and turned over to go to sleep. Erik lay in the darkness, and while he intended to practice the self-healing Nakor had taught him, sleep was on him less than a minute after Roo.

      The camp was immense. At least ten thousand armed men were scattered across a low valley that ran from the hills on the east to the river on the west. Cutting through the middle was a smaller tributary to the Vedra, and along this smaller river camps had been made.

      The brokers who were conducting the contracts were arrayed under a large canopy, ocher in color, at the heart of the valley. Erik rode with his companions in their usual position near the head of the column, near enough to Calis to overhear his conversations with the men around him.

      Praji pointed. ‘Some of those banners are damn strange; I thought I knew every company worth talking about in this gods-forsaken continent.’ He glanced around. ‘Some of these others are a long way from home.’

      ‘How is it shaping up?’ asked de Loungville.

      ‘It’s early yet. Khaipur fell less than a month ago. If the Emerald Queen’s representatives get here in the next week I’ll be surprised. But I’ll bet you a whore’s hoard that the Priest-King of Lanada is spending money like a sailor in port.’ Looking around, he said, ‘We’d better head up the valley and see if there’s anywhere good near the river.’ He sniffed the air. ‘With the number of these fools pissing in the water after they get drunk, downstream’s the last place I want to be.’

      De Loungville laughed. ‘Looks like the best places are taken.’

      ‘Only if you like the taste of another man’s piss in your water,’ said Praji. ‘This is just the start. The word’s been about for five years now. There’s a big war to end all wars coming, and any man with a sword who doesn’t get in now will be out of the looting.’ He shook his head. ‘Doesn’t make much sense, does it? You’d think any man with eyes in his head could see –’

      Calis cut him off with an upraised hand. ‘Not here. Too many ears.’

      Praji nodded. ‘Look for a red eagle banner, twin to your own. That’ll be Vaja if he’s found his way here.’

      Calis nodded.

      They rode into the camp area, and Erik felt his pulse race. Never had so many pairs of eyes regarded him with suspicion. The rendezvous was neutral ground, where both sides in the coming conflict could recruit mercenary companies to their cause, openly bidding against one another, and tradition bound every man who entered sight of the tent to keep his sword sheathed. But tradition and enforceable law were two different things, and more than once a battle had erupted at such a meeting. Men in this camp knew only that those in their own company were allies. Anyone else might be someone they would see across the field of battle mere days or weeks after leaving the rendezvous.

      They passed by the large yellowish tent, though on the other side of the water, as they picked their way upriver, and away from the main body of men camping. Calis found a small rise with a flat top that gave a commanding view of the valley below and motioned to de Loungville that they would camp there. ‘No fortifications; it’s against the compact, but I want double guard. When the whores come by, let the men indulge, but no strong drink and no drugs – chase the peddlers away. I’ll not have some fool start a war because he sees the ghost of some enemy in the smoke and pulls his sword.’

      De Loungville nodded and gave the order. Without the need to dig a trench and rampart, making camp took little time. When Erik’s squad had finished erecting their tent, Foster came by and gave the rotation for guard duty. Erik groaned when he was told the second watch, which was from midnight to two hours before dawn. Sleep interrupted was as good as not sleeping from his point of view.

      Still, after three days in the saddle, a little time to lie around would be welcome. And if he had the midnight watch tonight, that meant the dawn watch tomorrow, and the day after, no watch at all. He found that a little gratifying, and was glad to have found any reason to feel good whatsoever.

      Trumpets blew and Erik came awake with a start. They had been in camp for five days now and he was back to a split night of guard duty. He rolled out of his tent and saw that everyone was looking down into the valley below.

      Roo came to his side and laughed. ‘Looks like an anthill with a stick in it.’

      Erik laughed, for Roo was right. There was motion everywhere. Then Foster was hurrying through camp shouting, ‘Every man to horse! We muster for inspection!’

      Erik and Roo turned and went back into their low tent, grabbing their swords and shields. They hurried to where other men were already saddling their horses and got theirs ready. When the order to fall in came, they swung up into the saddle and moved the horses to their position in the column. Foster rode by and said, ‘Rest awhile, lads. The shopping is beginning and you’ll be doing little for a day. When the brokers come by, do your best to look fierce.’

      This got a laugh, and Jadow Shati’s bass voice carried from somewhere back in line. ‘Just put Jerome in front, man. That will scare them, don’t you know!’

      This brought another laugh, and then de Loungville’s voice cut through the air. ‘Next man who says anything better make me laugh, or he’ll wish his mother had taken holy vows of celibacy before he was born!’

      The company fell silent.

      A hour later the sound of riders came from up the valley and Erik turned to see a small company of a dozen men heading their way. At their head was a large man, grey of hair, but otherwise young-looking. He wore foppish regalia, and obviously had put much thought into his appearance, despite being covered with road dust. At his side rode another carrying a crimson eagle banner.

      ‘Vaja!’ cried Praji as they pulled up. ‘You sorry old peacock! I thought someone had killed you out of mercy. What took you so long?’

      The other man, handsome despite his years, laughed, and said, ‘You found them. If I hadn’t heard of the rendezvous I would still be on my way down to the City of the Serpent River looking for our good Captain and this company of sorry fools.’

      Calis came riding over as Vaja and his men dismounted. ‘You’ve come just in time. The muster begins today.’

      Vaja looked around. ‘There’s plenty of time yet. We’ll have three or four days of this at least. Are both sides here?’

      ‘No word of the Emerald Queen’s agents. Just the Priest-King,’ answered Calis.

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