Rage of a Demon King

by Raymond E. Feist

  Roo said, “Erik’s that.”

  Erik reached the bar and said, “Kitty?”

  “Yes, Sergeant Major?” she asked coolly.

  “Ah . . .” He blushed again. She fixed him with an unwavering glance. “I . . . uh.”

  “Spit it out before you choke.”

  “What did you mean, at the table?”

  “Mean?” she asked, a skeptical expression on her face. “By what?”

  “By that ‘Oh.’ ”

  “Nothing. Just ‘Oh,’ as in ‘Oh.’ ”

  Erik suddenly realized he was being made a fool of, and he felt his color rising. “You’re making sport of me.”

  She reached across the bar and patted his cheek. “It’s so easy to do.”

  “What is this?” he asked, losing any sense of humor in the situation. “Are you mad at me?”

  She sighed. “I’m just mad at men in general.”

  Erik said, “Well, take it out on someone else.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve suddenly got a tender side for a man who’s killed dozens and bedded whores next to his friends.”

  Erik felt flustered. This girl’s attitude was getting under his skin. “What would you have of me?” he asked in exasperation.

  Kitty studied his face a long, silent moment, then said in a low voice, “I don’t know.”

  Erik stared at her. The torchlight reflected off a faint sheen of moisture on her upper lip. She was perspiring lightly despite the cool of the evening.

  After a moment, she asked, “What do you want?”

  Erik shook his head. “I don’t know either, but I . . . I didn’t like the way things felt when you . . .”

  “Said ‘Oh’?” she finished for him.

  Said that way, it sounded so silly Erik had to laugh. “Yes, I guess that’s what I mean.”

  “Come with me,” she said. She gestured to one of the other girls that she was leaving, and led Erik through the kitchen, past the cook and his helpers, through a rear door into the courtyard behind the inn.

  For a moment Erik experienced an odd sensation of familiarity; he had grown up in such a yard, with the stable and forge, well and hayloft, behind an inn. There was a wooden bench around the well, used by those too short to pull up the bucket easily, and Kitty went and sat on it, motioning for Erik to sit next to her.

  Erik said, “It’s quiet back here.”

  Kitty shrugged. “I never noticed. I’m usually too busy.”

  Erik sat and Kitty leaned over and kissed him. He held still an instant, then returned her kiss. After a long moment, she sat back, looking at him. Finally she said, “I’ve never done that before.”

  “Kissed a man?” Erik said, his voice showing his surprise.

  “I’m a thief, not a whore,” she said. “I’ve been raped and had men stick their tongues in my mouth, but I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

  Erik’s mouth hung open, and then he shut it. “What about Bobby?” he asked finally.

  She shrugged. “What about him?”

  “Well, I thought . . .” He hesitated. “Well, we just assumed you and he . . .”

  “I would have, if he’d asked. He was good to me. Better than I deserved, I think. I mean, he treated me roughly that night you caught me, and he threatened to hang me and the like, but mostly he made me laugh. And he kept others from hurting me.” She pointed to the back of the inn. “I’ve got to watch for Mockers, or anyone else nosing around, but what I am now is just a barmaid. That’s not bad, ’cause I won’t whore.”

  She looked down. “I would have lain down for Bobby, ’cause he was good to me, but he didn’t love me and I didn’t love him. Not that way.” She looked at Erik. “I don’t think there was anyone he loved, maybe ’cept for Captain Calis.”

  “Bobby was devoted to him.”

  “I thought for a while he might be one of those men who love other men.” She made a motion with her hand, as if flipping something over. “Not that I care; I’m no follower of Sung the Pure, but you do wonder. Then I heard he was a regular down at the White Wing, so I figure he’s just got it in his head to get his itch scratched by someone who’s. . .” She searched for a concept.

  “Not special to him?” Erik supplied.

  “Ya,” she agreed. “That’s it. Like if he did it with me or someone else who wasn’t a whore, it might make things . . . you know, different.”

  Erik nodded that he understood.

  She sighed. “Bobby joked and made me laugh. At first I was scared of him, because he said he would kill me if I betrayed the Prince or the Duke, and I saw in his eyes he meant it. But after a while, when folks here treated me right, well, I stopped being afraid.

  “I’ve got no place to go, so, like it or not, this is my home.” She was silent awhile, looking at the inn. “It’s not a bad life. I know something big’s coming. You can’t work here and not figure out a few things. Soldiers who aren’t bragging on what they’re doing, they’re keeping secrets. So something big’s coming. I don’t know what, and I think I don’t want to know.” She paused, and stared up at the pale moon.

  Suddenly, she turned her head to face Erik. “But with Bobby gone, you’re the man who’s been nicest to me. The men sometimes say things to the other girls, about me, but I don’t mind. It’s just, well, you’ve never been anything but nice to me.”

  Erik shrugged. “I know what it’s like to have some tough luck, I guess.”

  “You can’t know what life is like on the street.”

  He said nothing, simply watching her in the flickering torchlight. She went on, “Girl children aren’t thought much of, except for whores. There’s good money for little girls in some places.” She hugged herself. “My mum was a whore, that’s the truth. No one knows who my father was. My mum threw me out when I was six. I think maybe she was keeping me from the crib. Her whoremaster kept looking at me funny.

  “I got found by this man, named Daniels, and he took me to this place in the sewers. They gave me food and told me they’d take care of me, but I had to do what they said. There were other children there, too. They didn’t seem too bad off. They were dirty, mostly, but they were fed.

  “I begged, and I learned the best dodges. I could cry like I was lost and if some mark stopped to see what the problem was, someone else cut his purse. I started being the holder after a while.”

  “Holder?” asked Erik.

  “Cutpurse, he gets spotted, he gets stopped by the City Watch, he’d better have nothing on him that don’t belong. So most Mockers work in teams. The cutpurse hands off the score as soon as he can, and the holder moves to the bagman, who takes it to Mother’s.”

  “Mother’s?”

  “That’s what the Mockers call the place we all live . . . lived.”

  She said, “Anyway, I saw me mum and we talked after I’d been gone a few years. She told me I had a sister, who was a whore. That was Betsy.”

  “You found her, then?”

  “Yes, and we got along good. She didn’t like me being a thief and I didn’t care much for her whoring, but we got along. I liked her. She was the only one I knew who wasn’t always after me for something.

  “When I got these”—she pointed to her breasts—“some of the men got rough with me. If I could stay close to the other cutpurses or hang out at Mother’s, I was all right. But sometimes you just can’t stay in a crowd, you know what I mean?”

  Erik didn’t, but he nodded as if he did.

  “I got poked a lot until I started dressing like I was when you found me, like a boy, staying dirty, not smelling good.”

  Erik didn’t know what to say, so he remained silent.

  “What I’m saying is I’ve never done nothing with a man that was ’cause I wanted.”

  Erik waited, and when she didn’t speak, he softly asked, “Are you telling me you want to now?”

  Tears welled up in her eyes as she almost imperceptibly nodded. He sighed as he gathered her into his arms. Erik had never felt so unsure of h
imself before. He had been with whores since he had joined the army, and he remembered what the first one told him, to go easy, but every woman he had lain with knew more than he did. Now he was being asked to lie with a girl who knew only violence at the hands of men.

  He kissed her on the cheek and then the chin, then the lips. At first she was very still, then after a few more kisses she began responding. Soon she stood and took him by the hand and led him into the barn, toward the loft.

  “Erik!” came the familiar voice. “You up there?”

  A sleepy “Wuzat?” came from Kitty as she nestled in his arms. Their lovemaking had been tentative, slow, and awkward at first, then building until Erik felt he was in the midst of battle, as Kitty exploded in a riot of emotions in his arms. Laughter mixed with tears was unleashed by his touch, and at the end she lay exhausted, as did he.

  A while later they made love a second time, and Kitty was much more sure of what it was she wanted. Erik had never experienced anything like this with another woman.

  He wondered if he was in love.

  He raised up on one arm as the caller again shouted his name. “Nakor, I’m going to kill you,” Erik muttered as he sat up and began to dress.

  Kitty came awake. “Is that the funny gambler?” she asked.

  Erik said, “He’s not being very funny at the moment.”

  As he pulled on his boots, she slipped her arms around his waist and said, “Thank you.”

  He stopped. “For what?”

  “For showing me what the other girls always talked about.”

  Erik sat motionless for a moment. “You’re welcome, I think.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. “You think?”

  “It wasn’t a favor,” he said in a curt tone.

  “Oh, you enjoyed it, too?” she asked innocently.

  Erik realized she was again teasing him. He was pleased it was too dark for her to see him blush. “I ought to spank you for that,” he muttered.

  She kissed his shoulder. “Some of the girls at the White Wing charge extra for that, I’ve been told.”

  A wave of uncertainty gripped Erik, as real as a sword thrust in his chest. He turned and gripped her by the arms, harder than he intended, and when he saw the look of panic in her eyes, he instantly released his hold. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But I can’t stand it when you mock me.”

  She looked at his face as tears formed in his eyes and suddenly she was crying. She laid her chin on his shoulder, cheek to cheek with him, as she whispered, “I’m sorry, too. I don’t know how to be any other way.”

  “I will never hurt you,” he whispered.

  “I know,” she whispered back. “I’m all jumbled inside.” Then she pulled back and he saw she was smiling. “And it’s your fault, Erik von Darkmoor.”

  He kissed her.

  Soon a cough sounded and Erik turned to see Nakor’s head poking up from below as he stood on the ladder to the loft. “There you are!”

  Without a word, Erik extended his leg, pushing the ladder away from the loft, and watched it vanish, with a satisfying squawk from Nakor, into the gloom. A loud thud and an “Oof” of breath exploding from Nakor’s lungs followed.

  Kitty laughed and Erik finished dressing. After a moment, as Nakor lay groaning dramatically from atop a pile of hay, Erik said, “When you’re done with your act, put the ladder back up.”

  The groaning was instantly replaced by a chuckle. “You know me too well,” said Nakor.

  The ladder reappeared at the edge of the loft and Erik glanced at Kitty, who was dressed. He went down the ladder first, and she followed.

  Nakor said, “Sorry to have bothered you and your lady friend, but I needed to see you.”

  “Why?” asked Erik.

  “To say good-bye for a while.”

  Erik saw that Sho Pi, his onetime comrade-in-arms and now Nakor’s student, was standing silently by the doorway of the barn. “Where are you going?” asked Erik.

  “Down to Stardock again. The King has asked me to return there while Lord Arutha returns to work for his father.” Then his expression turned serious. “Something’s going on. Prince Erland sailed into port tonight aboard a Keshian cutter.”

  Erik said, “Nothing we can talk about.”

  Nakor nodded. “I think I know what you mean.”

  Erik said, “Well, have a safe journey and let me know when you return to the city.”

  Nakor nodded. “We’ll be back.” He motioned for Sho Pi to follow as he left the barn, and Erik watched them vanish into the night.

  “That is the strangest little man,” said Kitty.

  “You are far from the first to observe that,” said Erik. “Still, he’s a good man and worth six when you’re out on the trail. The things he knows are astonishing. He claims there’s no magic, but if there’s anyone who’s a better magician out there, I’ve not met him.”

  Kitty came and leaned in to Erik and he slipped his arm around her waist. “What did he mean, ‘Something’s going on’?”

  Erik turned and kissed her. “You catch spies, and you want me to talk about secrets?”

  She nodded, resting her cheek against his chest. “I sometimes think I know what is going on, Erik, as I piece together bits of things heard here and there. Other times I’m not sure even what I’m doing here. Since Bobby died I often think I’m in one of those places the priests talk about, one of the lesser hells. I can’t leave the inn unless I’ve a pair of guards with me. The Mockers have put the death mark on me, but they’re the only family I’ve known.”

  Erik couldn’t think of anything to say. He hugged her. “If I get some time off soon, I’ll take you somewhere, someplace different, away from the city.”

  She clung to him a minute, then said, “I have to get back.”

  He walked toward the rear door of the inn and removed his arm from around her waist when they got there. Saying nothing, he followed her inside. She silently moved through the kitchen and took her usual station behind the bar.

  Jadow Shati and Owen Greylock still sat at the table, but Roo had departed.

  “Where’s Roo?” Erik asked as he sat.

  “When you didn’t come back, he, Jimmy, and Dash left. Something about an important appointment,” answered Greylock.

  “Did Nakor find you?” asked Jadow innocently.

  “Yes,” answered Erik as he sat.

  “Not at too awkward a moment, I hope,” said Jadow, his face splitting into a wide grin.

  Erik blushed and said, “No.”

  “That’s good,” said Jadow. Then he exploded into a laugh so infectious Greylock and Erik were forced to join in.

  Kitty approached with a fresh pitcher of ale. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  Her tone was one of potential injury, and her expression spoke volumes: if she was the butt of some joke told by Erik, some brag of conquest, no repair would ever be possible to the damage done.

  Adroitly Greylock said, “Nakor,” and started to laugh again.

  “Oh,” said Kitty, as if that explained everything. She smiled at Erik and he returned the smile.

  After she left, Jadow said, “So there is something going on with you two?”

  Erik nodded. “And it scares the hell out of me.”

  Greylock held up his fresh ale, as if in a toast. “That’s serious.”

  Jadow nodded sagely. “Very serious, man. It can only be one thing.”

  “What?” said Erik, a tone of worry in his voice.

  “Oh, man, he does have it bad,” said Jadow. “That’s the truth,” answered Greylock.

  “What?” demanded Erik.

  Greylock said, “Never been in love before?”

  Jadow retorted, “He’s too stupid to know if he has.”

  Erik sat back and said, “I guess not.” His brow furrowed and he stared into his ale as if he’d find an answer in it. Then suddenly he grinned and looked at the faces of his two friends. “I guess not.”

  He turned to ga
ze at Kitty, who was busy cleaning behind the bar, talking quietly with another of the working girls, then turned back to his friends. “I’m in love,” he said as if it were a revelation.

  Suddenly Greylock and Jadow couldn’t contain themselves and started laughing again. After the mirth died, Jadow said, “Come on, boy. You need another drink.”

  Greylock shook his head and sighed. “Ah, to be young again.”

  Erik just sat silently, wondering at all the odd feelings of delight and uncertainty within. He stole a glance at Kitty and saw her watching him. He smiled at her and she returned it, and he felt joyous inside.

  Then, while Jadow and Greylock exchanged witty remarks, a dark cloud descended over Erik, as he considered the coming battle. How could be afford the time for anything other than that, he wondered to himself.

  Sylvia bit Roo playfully on the neck.

  “Ow,” he said, half in jest, half in real pain. “That was too hard.”

  She pouted. “I need to punish you. You’ve been gone too long.”

  She snuggled down into the crook of his arm as he said, “I know. The closer we get—” He caught himself. He was about to say “to the invasion.”

  “Closer to what?” she asked, very attentively.

  He studied her face in the candlelight. He had come to her house late and they had gone straight to bed. Her father was away on business, she said, so he planned on spending the entire night, rather than returning to his town house before dawn, as was his habit when Jacob Esterbrook was at home. Thinking about what he had found about her father’s advantage over Roo’s companies in trade with Great Kesh, he again wondered if he was saying anything that she was repeating to her father. He pushed aside the concern. “I mean, as I get closer to this goal I have, controlling all shipping on the Bitter Sea, I seem to have less time for anything else.”

  She bit him on the shoulder again, this time hard enough to make him genuinely cry out. “Explain that to your wife,” she said, indicating the teeth marks she’d left. She got out of bed, and Roo marveled at the sight of her naked body. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever encountered, and in the light of the single candle she seemed sculpted from living marble, without flaw. He thought about his own wife’s pudgy body, without a hint of strength in the muscle, the marks on her left by childbirth, and he found himself astonished by his ability to make love to Karli.