Rage of a Demon King (39 page)

Roo said, “After they burned Krondor?”

Jacob’s smile broadened. “What concern does Great Kesh have with the destruction of a Kingdom city?”

“Great Kesh?”

Jacob said, “Rupert, don’t be thick. You must have deduced I had something besides my not inconsiderable business skills in my favor when it came to trading to the south. I have friends in high places in the Emperor’s court, and they have made it easy for me to keep you off the Keshian trade routes. Now they wish to come to a quick accommodation with the invaders, this Emerald Queen, and formalize a new border.”

Roo sat stunned. “New border?”

“Prince Erland negotiated a treaty for noninterference with Great Kesh, in exchange for land concessions in the Vale of Dreams.” He pointed at Roo.
“Which I think you knew, given that sale of property to me in Shamata. You didn’t realize that the new governor of Shamata would be more than happy to recognize my claims to those businesses, I know.

“But the point of the treaty is that while we are pledged not to invade the Kingdom, we agreed to nothing that prevents us from coming to a quick understanding with the new rulers of the land to the north of the Empire. Toward that end, a rather large army is marching now, even as we speak, seeking to occupy all lands in the Vale, not just those granted to us by the treaty, and we shall continue to hold those lands after this unpleasantness is over.”

“You’re a Keshian,” said Roo softly.

Jacob spread his hands and shrugged. “Not by birth, dear Rupert; by profession.”

“You’re a spy!”

“I prefer to think of it as being a facilitator, one who conducts all manner of trade between the Kingdom and Great Kesh, goods, services, and . . . information.”

Roo stood. “Well, you can burn in hell for all I care, Jacob. But I won’t let Sylvia die here with you.”

“My daughter is free to leave should she wish,” said Jacob. “I have long since ceased attempting to control her. If she wants to travel with you, she may.”

Roo left the old man in his study without another word. He hurried up the stairs toward Sylvia’s room. Without knocking, he opened the door.

Sylvia was sitting on the bed while Duncan stood over her, one foot up on the bed beside her as he leaned forward. He had one hand on her shoulder, in a familiar fashion, and he was smiling his most charming smile. Sylvia appeared angry at whatever
Duncan was saying, and they were so lost in their debate they didn’t notice Roo for a moment.

“No!” said Sylvia. “You’ve got to go back and do it tonight, you fool. After he leaves the estate, it’s too late!”

“What’s too late?” said Roo.’

Sylvia jumped to her feet as Duncan stepped away.

“Why, cousin,” said Duncan, “I was just trying to convince Miss Esterbrook that she should evacuate.”

Roo studied the tableau a long moment and slowly drew his sword. “Now I see just how much of a fool I’ve been.”

“Roo!” said Sylvia. “You can’t think . . . not Duncan and I?”

Duncan put up his hands in a gesture of conciliation. “Cousin? What do you think you’re doing?”

“Since this has begun, I have never understood why I could never gain an advantage over Jacob. Now I discover that he’s an agent of Great Kesh and that my own cousin has been feeding my lover information.”

Duncan looked as if he was going to say something, then suddenly his smile turned to a snarl and he yanked his sword out. “Damn it, I have had enough of this charade.”

He lashed out. Roo parried, then riposted. Duncan easily avoided the blade.

Roo said, “That makes two of us.”

Duncan grinned, and it was an evil, hate-filled expression. “You have no idea how much I’ve looked forward to this moment, cousin. Taking your table leavings, running your errands, while you favored that one-handed Rodezian dog. Well, this will end
that insult and I will no longer have to share Sylvia with you.”

“That’s the way it is, then?”

“Of course, you idiot!” screamed Sylvia. She rolled off the bed as a flurry of sword blows came perilously close to striking her.

Duncan said, “My love, I don’t need to kill the fat cow. I’ll kill Rupert here, then I’ll marry Karli. When time enough has passed, we’ll get rid of her and then you can marry me.”

Rupert struck out with a blow aimed at Duncan’s head, and as Duncan’s sword came up to parry, Roo snapped the blade around to a side attack. Duncan merely turned his wrist, bringing his blade down to catch Roo’s blade. “Nicely done, cousin,” said Duncan. “But you were never my equal with the blade, and you know it. Eventually, you’ll make a mistake and I’ll kill you.”

Roo said nothing. Hate filled his eyes at the realization of just how badly he had been played for an idiot. He feinted left, then came around from the right with a snapping blow that almost connected with Duncan’s left arm, but the taller swordsman danced nimbly back. “Karli would never marry you, you swine. She hates you.”

Smiling, Duncan said, “She just doesn’t know me. She doesn’t appreciate my better qualities.” He lashed out with a full extension and almost took Roo in the shoulder. Roo ducked slightly and beat aside his cousin’s blade, then he also tried a thrust, backing Duncan away.

Sylvia stood behind the bed, in the corner, clutching the curtains. “Kill him, Duncan!” she screamed. “Don’t play with him.”

Duncan said, “With pleasure,” and suddenly attacked with more speed than Roo would have thought possible.

Roo did his best to defend, and he found his speed matched his cousin’s, but Duncan was the more experienced swordsman. One advantage Roo had was he had fought a duel to the death only a year before, while Duncan hadn’t faced a serious foe in years. Duncan began to improvise his attacks, and Roo saw his advantage. If he could wear his more skilled cousin down, tire him, he could eventually survive this duel. Roo then set about not to lose, as Duncan closed to kill.

Back and forth they moved, slashing and thrusting, blocking and parrying. A pair of candles threw dancing shadows across the room as the fury of movement caused the flames to flicker and gutter. The sound of steel on steel brought servants to the door of Sylvia’s room. A wide-eyed maid looked in, and Sylvia screamed, “Get Samuel!”

Roo knew Samuel, the coachman, was a bull-necked thug of a man, and, now that he knew Jacob worked on behalf of Great Kesh, suspected Samuel might be one of Jacob’s agents. He knew that if Samuel got into the room, Roo would be distracted enough that Duncan would probably kill him.

Roo tried to look hesitant, and when Duncan took the bait, overextending his attack, Roo launched a furious counteroffensive, forcing his cousin back against the far wall. Then Roo turned and hurried to the door, slamming it shut and throwing the bolt before Duncan could recover. “You’ll have no help for a while, Duncan,” he said, panting from exertion.

“I don’t need any,” said Duncan and began to
stalk Roo across the room. Roo crouched low and waited.

Sylvia stood motionless in the corner, her face a mask of naked hatred as she watched the two men circle slowly.

Blows were exchanged, but no injury was done. Each man had the measure of the other; they had spent too many hours practicing with each other. While Duncan might be the better swordsman, Roo had spent more time drilling with him than any other; they were evenly matched.

Perspiration poured down both men’s faces and drenched their shirts. In the close air of the room on this hot summer night, they were quickly out of breath.

Back and forth to no advantage, the men fought across the room. Roo watched Duncan closely for any sign he was changing his style or fatiguing. Duncan’s frustration was mounting, for while he had regularly defeated Roo in practice, this time the little man was holding his own, and if anything seemed to be gaining an edge.

Pounding on the door signaled the arrival of Samuel, the coachman. “Miss!” he cried through the door.

“I’m being attacked!” she screamed. “Rupert Avery is trying to kill me. His cousin Duncan is defending me. Break down the door!”

A moment later a thud signaled the assault on the door. The coachman and probably another male servant were throwing their shoulders into the door. Roo knew that the door was heavy oak, locked with an iron throw bolt; he had locked it himself enough times. They would have to find something to use as
a ram; their shoulders would give out before the heavy door did.

Then Roo saw a flicker of movement and realized Sylvia was trying to run across the bed, past him, so she could unlock the door. He leaped backward and snapped a wild blow in her general direction, causing her to shriek and fall back. “Not so fast, my love,” he said. “You and I have accounts to settle.”

Duncan let out a sound of pure frustration as he lunged and drove Roo back to the side of the bed opposite Sylvia. He glanced at the door as if gauging his chances of opening it. When his gaze flicked to the door, so did Roo’s blade, and a crimson stain spread on Duncan’s white silk shirt, as he took a nick in the right shoulder.

Roo smiled. He knew that while it was a tiny wound, the blow to Duncan’s vanity was immense. Roo had scored first blood, and Duncan would become even more dangerous and reckless.

Duncan swore and started to attack Roo as fast as he could, ignoring the door. He pushed Roo back to the corner, then lunged at him with a move designed to skewer the shorter man. Roo had anticipated the move, knowing that Duncan would follow his usual style and come at him angling toward Roo’s right. The practice over the years had revealed Roo’s tendency to move toward his own right when dodging. Roo knew Duncan knew this, and as it was the only likely move he could make, Roo did the unexpected. He leaped atop the bed on his left, bouncing off it as if he were an acrobat. He heard rather than saw Duncan’s blade strike the wall. He leaped off to stand next to Sylvia, and he turned to see Duncan pull back his own blade and leap atop the bed.

Sylvia shrieked as she pulled a dagger from behind her pillow and struck at Roo. Roo’s attention was fixed upon Duncan, but he saw movement in the corner of his eye and dodged forward slightly. Pain exploded in his shoulder, as the blow, intended for his neck, missed and the dagger point slid down his right shoulder blade, skidding off bone.

Duncan drew back his blade again, to skewer Roo as he had intended to do the last time. Roo fell back without conscious intent, and he struck Sylvia, who stumbled into the path of Duncan’s lunge.

Both men froze a moment as Duncan’s sword point drove deep into Sylvia Esterbrook’s side. The beautiful young woman, her face contorted with hate and rage, suddenly went stiff and her eyes grew round with astonishment.

She looked down as if unable to comprehend what had just happened, and then she went limp. Duncan’s blade was pulled forward briefly, and as he attempted to wrench it from Sylvia’s dying body, Roo lunged. His aim was off and his arm weak from his injury, but Duncan was overbalanced and exposed, and the point of Roo’s sword took him straight in the throat.

Duncan’s eyes suddenly widened, his astonishment a match for Sylvia’s. He stumbled backward and fell upon the bed, his head resting on one of his lover’s pillows as his hands went to his throat. Blood flowed from his neck, mouth, and nose and he gurgled as he sought to stem the flow with his hands.

Roo stood there, bleeding, in pain, and out of breath as he watched his cousin lying on Sylvia’s bed, his blood staining the satin sheets and pillows. After a moment, Duncan’s hands went limp, falling
from his throat, and his head rolled around to the left, as if he was staring at Roo and Sylvia, and the life fled from his eyes.

Roo looked down at Sylvia, who lay at his feet, staring up with eyes as vacant as Duncan’s. The pounding on the door took on a steady, hard sound, and Roo knew they were using a table base or some other heavy object as a ram.

He stumbled over to the door and shouted, “Stand back!”

He unlatched the heavy iron latch and found three male servants, Samuel, a stablehand whose name Roo couldn’t recall, and the cook, all standing there with weapons. The cook held a kitchen cleaver, but the other two men carried swords.

Roo glared at the three and said, “Stand aside or die.”

Looking at the blood-spattered carnage behind the little man with the sword in his hand, the three servants moved back. Roo stepped into the hall.

Behind the three men waited the other servants, maids, cooks, gardeners, and the rest. Roo said, “Sylvia is dead.”

One of the maids gasped, while another smiled in obvious satisfaction.

Roo said, “There’s an army heading this way. It will be here sometime tomorrow. Grab what you can and run east. If you don’t, by this time tomorrow night you’ll be raped and dead or slaves. Now stand aside!”

No one hesitated. All turned and fled down the stairway.

Roo staggered down the stairs, and when he reached the bottom, he saw servants were busy stripping
the house of easily transportable items. He thought of returning to Jacob’s study and killing the traitor, but he was too tired. It would take all his strength to return home. His wound wasn’t critical, but it could be serious if it wasn’t tended.

Staggering outside, he found his horse where he had left it tied. He put his sword in its sheath, and by force of will he climbed into the saddle. Pointing the horse toward the gate, he put heels to sides, and the animal cantered off, heading home.

Luis dressed Roo’s shoulder while Karli fussed about, holding a basin of water. “It’s not bad,” said Luis. “The bone’s laid bare, but it’s all over the shoulder blade.” He was sewing up the wound with a piece of silk thread and a needle from Karli’s sewing kit. “Very messy, but nothing permanent.” As Roo flinched, he said, “Must hurt like hell, though.”

Roo, pale from blood loss and pain, said, “It does.”

“Well, if an artery had been cut you’d be dead by now, so count yourself fortunate.” He pulled tight the last stitch and motioned for a cloth, cleaning off the wound. “We’ll change the dressing twice a day and keep the wound clean. If it festers, you’ll be very sick.”

Both men had been trained in dressing wounds, so Roo knew he was in good hands. Helen Jacoby said, “I’m sorry about Duncan.”