Shadow of a Dark Queen (11 page)

“Look, you're the only real friend I've got here, and I've got no trade. I wasn't joking about joining a syndicate. I can get a job in Krondor and invest my money until I'm rich. Once you get to Krondor, you'll see there are better things to do than return to apprenticeship.”

Erik laughed, and stopped, so Roo wouldn't have to continue his backward walk. “What about your father?”

“He'd just as soon be rid of me as not,” Roo said with bitterness. “The bastard hasn't had a kind word for me since Mum died.” Suddenly, as if by magic, a dagger appeared in Roo's hand, then equally suddenly he returned it to inside his loose shirt. “I can take care of myself if I need to. Now, let me come along.”

Erik said, “I'll talk to Mother. She's not likely to offer any encouragement.”

“You'll talk her into it.”

“Well, assume I do, you need to get your things together and have some copper to pay the coach.”

“Everything I have is in a bundle at my father's. I'll run and get it.”

Erik shook his head and watched Roo run off into the night. He glanced around, suddenly feeling melancholy. This would be his last night under the barn roof. It was a poor lodging by any measure; occasionally leaky, drafty, and offering too little protection from winter's cold and summer's heat, but it was home. And he'd miss Milo and Rosalyn.

As he returned to his place in the loft, Erik thought of Rosalyn, pretty, but not teasing as Gwen and some of the other girls were. His feelings for her
were often tempered by his sense of family. She was the sister of his heart, if not by blood, and while he was as interested in girls as any boy his age, something about Rosalyn made him uneasy. In many ways he'd miss her most of all.

Tired from the long day's work and from worry, Erik quickly dozed off, only to be startled awake by a sudden feeling of panic. He sat up and looked around the dark barn loft. Unseen enemies were hovering nearby. The sound of men talking carried from the inn, and the horses in the corral and barn snorted. Erik rolled over on his side, head on his arm, thinking about the strange feeling of danger that had suddenly come upon him.

He closed his eyes and again saw Rosalyn's face. He would miss her, and Milo, and Nathan. Soon he was dozing again. Before he lapsed into a deep sleep, he dreamed he heard Rosalyn gently calling his name.

“Erik!”

Erik came awake with a start as a hand shook his shoulder. He had been hard asleep, in a deep numbing slumber of emotional exhaustion, and he couldn't quite get his bearings.

“Erik!” Roo's voice cut through the gloom, and Erik looked up into his friend's face. Roo was dressed as he had been earlier, but he wore a travel bundle tied around one shoulder, slung over his back.

“What is it?”

“You'd better come quick. Down by the fountain. Rosalyn.”

Erik half leaped down the ladder, Roo scampering down after him as fast as he could. Erik sprinted
past the corral of horses and, as he approached the inn, could hear the voices from within. “What time is it?”

“Nine of the clock was the last call. Half past that, I think.”

Erik knew that with this many soldiers in town, some of the town girls would be down at the fountain. But Rosalyn was certainly not likely to be one of them.

“What happened?”

“I don't know,” answered Roo. “Gwen can tell you.”

Erik ran through the streets until he came to the fountain, where a group of three young off-duty soldiers were attempting to impress the local girls with tales of their heroics. But the expression on Gwen's face as he saw it in the lantern light showed that all thoughts of harmless flirtation were gone. She looked very worried.

“What is it?” demanded Erik.

“Rosalyn came here, looking for you.”

“I was in the loft,” said Erik.

Gwen said, “She said she called for you there, but you didn't answer.”

Erik cursed his sound sleep and said, “Where is she now?”

Roo said, “They say she went off with Stefan.”

“What?” Erik turned at his half brother's name and gripped Gwen by the arm. “Tell me what happened.”

Gwen motioned for Erik to follow her, out of hearing of the soldiers. “She was going back to the inn when the Baron's sons came. Stefan started saying sweet things to her, but there was something
about his manner she didn't like. She tried to leave, but didn't know how to say no to someone of his rank, and when he took her by the arm, she went along. But he didn't lead her back to the inn; they went off toward the old orchard.” She pointed off in the general direction. “He was more dragging her along than escorting her, Erik.”

Erik had taken one step after them when Gwen held his arm. “Erik, I've been with Stefan. The last time he was here I went to his rooms at the Peacock . . .” Her voice lowered as if she was ashamed to speak. “He left marks on me, Erik. He likes to hit while he's having you, and when I cried, it made him laugh.”

Roo had been standing beside Erik. As Erik turned away toward the apple grove, Roo saw an expression on Erik's face that caused him to hesitate an instant. While Erik moved away with purposeful steps, Roo grabbed Gwen by the arm. “Go to the Pintail and find Nathan. Tell him what happened and to come to the orchard!”

Roo hurried over to where the three soldiers watched Erik disappear into the night. One looked at Roo with an open expression of curiosity on his face, and Roo said, “If you don't want bloodshed, run and find Owen Greylock and tell him to come to the old orchard.”

Roo then ran as fast as he could after the rapidly receding figure of Erik. The slender boy was one of the fastest runners in town, but Erik had already moved out of the lantern light of the square and had vanished down the street leading to the old apple orchard at the edge of town.

Roo hurried through the streets, his footfalls slapping the stones with a sound that seemed to evoke
the anger and outrage in the night. Each step sounded like a hand striking a face, and with the sound, Roo felt his blood rise. Quick to anger, slow to release a grudge, Roo knew a fight was coming and was composing himself to help his friend. He didn't like Stefan, anyway, from what he had seen of him, but as each stride took him closer to confrontation, it was turning into a serious hatred. As he left the last buildings behind, he caught a glimpse of Erik at the far edge of his vision, before he faded into the darkness.

Roo hurried after, but Erik was possessed with an outrage that lent his feet wings. Roo had never seen Erik run so swiftly.

Roo crossed the low pasture and jumped the fence that brought him to the edge of the old orchard, a favored meeting place for young lovers on warm nights. Reaching the edge of the trees, cloaked in threatening darkness after the brightly lit town square and lantern-dressed streets, Roo was forced to slow to a walk. He moved between the dark boles, then suddenly was upon Erik, who turned at his approach. Erik made a motion for silence, then whispered, “Over there, I think,” as he tried to catch his breath.

Roo listened and was about to say he heard nothing over the pounding of his own heart when a faint movement, as if someone shifted his weight, could be heard, the softest rustle of cloth upon cloth. It was in the general direction Erik indicated. Roo nodded.

Erik moved like a hunter stalking prey. There was something very wrong in all of this. Rosalyn would never have come away with any boy to the orchard, for there was only one reason to be here. Rosalyn
was still a virgin, of that Erik was certain, still too young to have a lover. Some girls, like Gwen, matured early and enjoyed the company of older boys, while others were shy. Rosalyn was not only shy; once outside her father's inn she was intimidated by the company of any boys besides Erik and Roo. Even the most innocent compliment would bring a blush to her cheeks, and when the other girls started talking about the town boys, she would excuse herself in embarrassment. Erik knew in his heart she was in danger, and the silence of the orchard frightened him. If another couple had been making love anywhere within this grove, sounds would carry this quiet night.

Abruptly, both boys heard a sound that made their hair stand on end. A girl's cry split the night, followed by the sound of a fist striking flesh, then silence. Erik leaped toward the sound. Roo hesitated an instant, then followed.

Erik ran without thought toward where the sound had come from. Then he saw Rosalyn, and his world froze for an instant. The girl lay back against the bole of a tree, her face bruised and her dress in tatters. Her blouse was torn from her, exposing her breasts, and her skirt was ripped away, with only a tattered rag around her waist. Erik could see blood running from her nose and she was without motion. Erik felt something hot and blinding rise up within him.

A sense of movement, rather than anything really seen, caused Erik to move to his right, saving his life. A searing pain erupted in his left shoulder as Stefan's sword point pierced it. With a cry of agony, Erik felt his knees go weak from the unexpected shock. Then Roo flew past his friend, driving his head into
Stefan's stomach. Erik almost fainted when the sword point was wrenched from his shoulder. His vision swam and his stomach knotted, and he had to force himself not to lose consciousness. He forced himself back to his feet as he shook his head to clear it. The sound of Roo's panic-stricken plea for help brought him back to alertness.

In the dark, with only the middle moon shining through the branches, he could see Roo wrestling Stefan on the ground. The smaller lad had surprised Stefan, but that advantage was now gone. Stefan was using his superior strength and size to force himself atop Roo. Only the fact his sword was designed for fighting at arm's length saved Roo's life. Had Stefan held a dagger, the boy would surely be dead.

As Roo called his name, Erik ignored the terrible pain in his left shoulder and with a single step came up behind Stefan. He grabbed his half brother around the waist and yanked him up in a massive bear hug, a primitive cry erupting from his own throat. Stefan's breath exploded from his lungs as the young smith's powerful arms closed hard around his chest; the sword fell from Stefan's hand as he was lifted abruptly off Roo. Held above the ground, all he could do was kick helplessly backwards at Erik and claw at his hands.

Erik stood like a man possessed by an avenging spirit as he attempted to crush the life from Stefan. He couldn't take his eyes from Rosalyn, who lay in mute tableau, a testimony to Stefan's cruelty. Erik had seen her naked as a child, for they had bathed together, but not since they had grown. The sight of her breasts, her own blood dripping between them, was something obscene to Erik. Lover, husband,
child should have touched that flesh, with nurturing love. His Rosalyn deserved better than the rough handling of a jaded and cruel noble.

Roo rolled to his feet, his dagger pulled from within his shirt. Murderous anger flashed in his eyes as he stepped forward. Stefan struggled with hysterical strength and Erik felt his grip loosen. As Roo reached them, Erik heard a distant voice shout, “Kill him!” and as Roo drove home the blade, Erik realized the voice commanding Stefan's death was his own.

Stefan stiffened and bucked once, then went limp, and even when Roo yanked free his blade, the son of the Baron did not twitch. Erik felt his skin crawl with an otherworldly sense of disgust, as if he were holding something profoundly unclean, and he let go. Stefan fell limply to the ground.

Roo stood over him, holding the still-bloody dagger, and Erik saw rage was still in his friend's expression. He said, “Roo?”

Roo blinked and looked down at his blade, then at Stefan. He wiped the blade on Stefan's shirt and put it away. Frustration and anger still pumped through Roo's mind and body; in need of another target to vent them on, he aimed a vicious kick at Stefan's body. The toe of his boot struck ribs, breaking them. With a final gesture of contempt, he spit on the corpse.

Suddenly the anger drained out of Erik. “Roo?” he repeated, and his friend turned to face him.

Erik's expression was one of confusion and Roo's a mask of equally confused anger; a third time Erik said his friend's name. Roo finally answered, his own voice hoarse with excitement and fear. “What?”

“What have we done?”

Roo looked blankly at Erik a moment, then looked down at Stefan. Instantly what had just occurred registered on him. He rolled his eyes heavenward and said, “Oh, gods, Erik. They're going to hang us.”

Erik glanced around, and the sight of Rosalyn shook him back to more pressing needs than concern over his own fate. He crossed the distance between Stefan's body and hers and knelt beside her. She lived, but her breath was shallow and labored, and he moved her to a more upright position. He watched helplessly, not knowing if he should cover her up, or see if he could stop the bleeding from her nose, or what. Then she moaned slightly.

Roo appeared with a fancy cloak, obviously Stefan's, and covered her. “She's in danger,” said Erik.

“So are we,” answered Roo. “If we stay, they will arrest us and hang us, Erik.”

Erik looked as if he were about to pick up Rosalyn, but Roo said, “We must get away!”

Erik said, “What do you mean?”

Roo said, “We've killed the Baron's son, you idiot.”

“But he abused Rosalyn!”

“That doesn't give us a warrant to execute him, Erik. Do you want to go into court and swear that this was only about Rosalyn? If it had been anyone else in the entire world but your own half brother . . .” He left the thought unfinished.

“We can't leave her here,” said Erik.

The sounds of men shouting echoed through the night. “She won't be undiscovered for long. This
orchard is going to be swarming with the Baron's soldiers in a few minutes.” As if to punctuate the observation, Erik could now hear distinct voices as the men advanced toward the orchard.