“No, not today,” answered Erik, wondering what Roo was leading up to.
Lowering his voice, Roo said, “He says he might come back here after we’re done. Says he likes it and might just settle down”—he looked at Embrisa—
“find a wife, and set up a mill.”
Embrisa’s eyes widened. “He’s a miller?”
“His father was one, or so he says.”
Embrisa said, “Well, I must go. Sorry you can’t come to supper, Erik.”
After the girl was gone, Erik said, “Thanks.”
“I was over there and heard what was going on,”
said Roo with a grin. “I figure a miller is the only one likely to make more money here than a smith, so I thought I’d give your young friend another target.”
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Erik said, “Is Henrik really thinking of staying, or are you just making trouble?”
“Well, I don’t know how much trouble, given she’s a saucy lass with an ample bosom and a firm young bottom. If she nets our friend the miller’s son, who knows? It could be true love, and he could indeed be thinking of staying by tomorrow.”
Erik shook his head. “Or hiding from her father.”
“Maybe, but as her father’s downriver with his wife and their sons, leaving Embrisa here alone, I suspect she was laying a snare for you.” He glanced at where the girl had gone. “Though I think it might have been a pleasant one for a night.”
“The girl’s not yet fifteen years old, Roo,” said Erik.
“Around here, that’s old enough for motherhood,”
answered Roo. “Anyway, it won’t do the lass much good getting either of you in her bed, ‘cause the Captain’s not likely to let any of us wander off.”
“True,” agreed Erik.
“And besides, we’re leaving in two days.”
“What?”
“Riders from the south came in about ten minutes ago with messages. Some more soldiers are joining us in two days’ time, and we all ride north.”
“Well, I’d better get to work,” said Erik. “I’ve got to sort out this horse business with Zila’s men. I think we’ll have to leave about a dozen horses here.”
“The villagers will love that,” said Roo with a grin.
“The ones they can’t use for plowing they’ll eat.”
Erik nodded, knowing he wasn’t really joking.
“Come on, give me a hand.”
Roo grumbled, but he followed Erik back into the corral to cut out the lame horses.
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Erik looked toward the southern gate expectantly.
Zila and his renegades had left the night before, as agreed, and now the new company from the south that was to join them was coming in ahead of sched-ule. De Loungville had already passed word: if the southern riders showed up before noon, they were off as soon as the company was mustered, all save a dozen men who would hold this fortress against the need of a southern retreat. Now the work made sense to Erik. A dozen well-armed soldiers could hold this village against up to three times that number of bandits, and if the villagers joined in the fight, it would require a small army to take it.
Already, without the order being given, men were hurrying to get ready to move out. Then Erik caught sight of a familiar figure among those riding in the gate. “Greylock!” Erik exclaimed.
Owen Greylock turned. Gripping Erik’s arm in a gesture of greeting, he then pulled him to his chest with a slap on the back. Releasing the young man, he said, “You look well.”
“We thought we spied that grey banner of yours on the deck of the Ranger one day in passage, but we didn’t see you come ashore.”
Pulling loose a scarf that had been around his face to cut the road dust, the former Swordmaster of Darkmoor said, “That’s because I didn’t. I sailed on with a couple of others to the City of the Serpent River to make some arrangements, then on to Maharta to take care of some other matters. After the Ranger left for Krondor, it was ride like hell for a week getting up to Lanada, then another back-breaker getting here.”
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Soldiers in various dress were riding in the south gate. “Who are they?” asked Erik dubiously.
“Don’t let the ragged cut of their outfits fool you.
Those are some of the best soldiers from around these parts, handpicked by our friend Praji over the last few years.” Lowering his voice, he said, “We need to blend in.”
“What are you doing here?” asked Erik. “Last I saw of you was before I was arrested.”
“Long story. Let me report to Calis, and after we’ve watered our mounts, share a cup of wine with me and I’ll tell you all.”
“It’s going to have to be at camp tonight,”
answered Erik. “We leave in an hour. You’ve only got time to pick some fresh mounts and grab a bite before we’re on our way.”
Greylock groaned. “That bastard isn’t giving a man’s spine a hope of recovery, is he?”
“I fear not. Come on, I’ve got some fine horses and I’ll pick out one for you with a soft back.”
Greylock laughed and said, “Lead on.”
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Rendezvous
Calis ssignaled a halt.
Erik and his companions, first company in line behind Calis and de Loungville, reined in and passed word back for the halt. Owen Greylock was riding with Calis, and Erik hadn’t found the opportunity to talk to him.
Two scouts who had ridden ahead at first light were galloping down the road. One of them, a clansman whose name was unknown to Erik, said, “A merchant caravan’s been taken an hour ahead. They tried to stand and fight, but there were no more than six guards for six wagons.”
De Loungville said, “The merchant was traveling light.”
The other scout, a man named Durany, said,
“They didn’t even have time to stop the wagons.
Looks like the raiders swooped down out of the trees and shot them full of arrows before they knew what was happening. The murderers stripped everyone down to the skin, and took their armor and weapons and everything else they could carry.”
Calis asked. “How many?”
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The clansman said, “Twenty or twenty-five, maybe more.”
Erik said, “Where are the bandits?”
Ignoring the source of the question, Calis nodded, and Durany said, “They headed back into the trees.
We followed their tracks about a hour’s ride into the woods, where they turned south. They’ve been shadowing the road since.” He looked around. “We never overtook them. They may be looping behind us already.”
“What about the village?” asked de Loungville.
Calis said, “Our twelve can hold the village if they get advance warning. But these raiders are acting more like a mercenary company on a rampage than bandits. If they come up on the village undetected . . .” Turning to de Loungville, he said,
“Bobby, take six men and head back to the village to warn them. That’s the most we can do. Then catch up as soon as you can.”
De Loungville nodded. “You come along with me,” he said to Erik and as they rode past, he motioned for Erik’s five companions to fall in. They pulled out of line, and soon the seven of them were riding back to the village of Weanat.
Smoke told them they were too late even before they could see the fort. As they crested a rise in the road, they saw the charred ruins of the outer wall and the still-unfinished tower now blazing like a banner.
Without waiting for orders, Erik spurr
ed his horse forward to a canter and got as close to the fire as he could. He called out a few names of villagers he had come to know, and after a moment a man emerged from the woods.
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“Tarmil!” shouted Erik. “What happened?”
The villager was covered in soot and looked tired but otherwise unhurt. “Those men who were supposed to leave yesterday morning came back last night with another band of men, asking to buy provisions. Your soldiers said no, and they got into an argument over giving their word and leaving and things I didn’t follow.” He waved up the road. “While they were shouting at each other at the south gate, this other group climbed over the north wall and opened the north gate.
“Your men tried to fight, but they were cut down from two sides. Most of us who could slipped out the south gate, or climbed the walls; then someone set a fire. The bandits didn’t trouble most of us after that; they were too busy trying to steal whatever they could before everything burned up.”
“Did everyone get out?”
Tarmil shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. Some of the men, I don’t know from which band, took out to the hills there, with two of our women. Drak’s wife, Finia, and Embrisa, maybe some others.”
De Loungville came up and said, “Don’t you ever go riding off like that without leave.”
“They’ve taken some of the women up into the hills.”
De Loungville swore. “I told Calis—” He cut himself off before he said anything more. He looked at Tarmil. “How long ago and how many men?”
“Less than an hour and about five or six.”
“Spread out,” ordered de Loungville. “See if you can spot any tracks.”
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another, smaller, group heading into the hills. De Loungville motioned for the former monk and Keshian Legionary to take the point and begin to follow.
They had only a short way to go before the screams of women revealed the bandits’ whereabouts. De Loungville motioned for the six riders to dismount and spread out, and moved quietly toward the sounds.
Erik had his shield on his arm and his sword out a moment after tying his horse, and glanced over to see Roo on his right and Luis on his left. They crept forward through the trees, and came upon a sight that set Erik’s teeth on edge.
Two men were tying on top of two women, one who was struggling. The other lay motionless. Three other men sat close by, drinking from an earthen jug as they watched the rape. A sad cry was followed by a convulsion as one of the men finished and stood up, and started pulling up his trousers. One of the men who had been drinking tossed aside the jug and started unfastening his trousers as he came to take the first man’s place.
He halted and looked at the still form on the ground, then said, “Gods and demons, Culli, you killed her, you fool!”
“She was biting, so I covered her mouth.”
“You smothered her, you idiot!”
“She’s not more than a minute or two dead, Sajer.
Go ahead; she’s still warm.”
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thought he rose up and moved toward the nearest men. One was watching the argument between his companions, but the other started to rise. He was halfway off the log where he had sat when he died: with a single sweeping motion Erik cleaved his head completely from his shoulders.
Erik’s companions charged and shouted, and the four remaining men scrambled to defend themselves.
Erik crossed to where the man named Sajer stood, while the one called Culli dashed to where his sword and shield lay. Sajer pulled his only weapon, a dagger at his belt, and Erik advanced upon him like death come into human form.
Fear crossed the man’s face as Erik bore down on him, and he made ready to defend himself as best he could. He lunged in feint with his dagger, but Erik only stepped forward, bashing with his shield, knocking him to the ground. He raised his sword above his head, then brought it down with a thundering blow, cutting completely through Sajer’s upraised forearm, slicing him from shoulder to belly.
Erik had to put his foot on the man’s chest to pull free his sword, and when he did he turned to see that the remaining three men had taken off their helms and thrown weapons to the ground, the sign among mercenaries of surrender. Erik’s eyes were wild and wide as he looked at the man named Culli. He walked purposefully toward him.
De Loungville stepped before Erik and, using all his strength, pushed him backwards. It was like trying to move a tree, but he did slow Erik’s forward advance. “Get a hold of yourself, von Darkmoor!” he commanded.
Erik paused at the sound of his name. He looked to where the two women lay. Finia had all her cloth-
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ing torn from her, and lay motionless in the grass, the only sign she was still alive being the slow rise and fall of her small breasts. Embrisa lay a short distance away, also nude, but bloody from belly to knee. Erik turned to stare at the man named Culli. “He dies.
Now. Slowly.”
De Loungville said, “Did you know her?”
“Yes,” answered Erik, part of his mind being surprised de Loungville didn’t. “She was fourteen.”
One of the captives said, “They was villagers! We didn’t know they belonged to anyone.”
Erik advanced, and this time de Loungville threw his shoulder into him, knocking him back a step.
“You stand fast when I tell you!” he shouted at Erik.
Turning to face the three men, he said, “What company?” The man named Culli said, “Well, Captain, we’ve been sort of looking out for ourselves lately.”
“Did you hit that caravan a half day’s ride north of here?”
A grin of broken and blackened teeth greeted the question. “Well now, it wouldn’t be the truth if we took credit for it all by ourselves. There were another six or seven boys in on that one. But they joined up with some men who wanted to raid that fort at the village. Fat man, rode a big roan horse, he took them all together.”
“Zila,” said de Loungville. “I’ll settle up with him someday.”
Culli continued, “We was watching from the woods and got in to grab what we would when they started to leave. We saw these two women getting out of a burning house, so we decided to have some fun.” He nodded at the still-living but stunned Finia and the dead 52887_Shadow of a Dark.qxd 9/3/02 3:50 PM Page 404
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Embrisa. “We didn’t mean to be so rough, but these was the only two we could find, and there’s five of us. We’ll pay you gold if they was yours, Captain, to make up for it, you see. We won’t even say nothing about the two boys you already killed. We only killed the one. Two for one seems more than fair. Give the other a couple of hours to rest and, why, she could service all six of you and a couple of us in the bargain.”
“On your knees,” commanded De Loungville.
Biggo, Natombi, and Luis forced the three men to their knees, holding them fast.
“I want that one,” said Erik, pointing at Culli.
“I’m going to stake him out facedown over an anthill and watch him die screaming.”
De Loungville turned and struck Erik as hard across the face as he could. Erik staggered, fell to his knees, and could barely retain consciousness from the unexpected blow.
When his vision cleared, he saw de Loungville come up behind the first man. With
an economy of motion he pulled his dagger, grabbed the man’s hair, and pulled back his head, cutting his throat with a single slice.
The other two tried to rise, but Biggo and Luis kept them under control. Before Erik could regain his feet, the other two men had been executed. Erik took one staggering step, then shook his head to clear it. He came to stand over the body of Culli and looked at de Loungville, who said, “See to the woman.” When Erik hesitated, he shouted, “Now!”
Erik and Roo moved to where Finia lay, eyes staring vacantly at the sky. When they knelt over her, her eyes seemed to focus for the first time. Recognizing Erik and Roo, she said in a whisper, “Is it over?”
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Erik nodded, and Roo took off his cloak and used it to cover her. Erik helped the woman get to her feet, and she wobbled as she rose. Roo put his arm around her, to steady her, and she looked over at Embrisa. “I told her to do as they said. She scratched and bit them. She was screaming and crying, and her nose stuffed up; when they covered her mouth, she couldn’t breathe.”
Erik inclined his head to Roo to take her to where the horses were. He took off his own cloak and wrapped Embrisa in it. Lifting her, he carried her as if she were asleep. Softly he said, “Now you’ll never find that rich husband.”
Erik was the last to reach the horses, and found de Loungville holding his reins. He handed the girl’s body to the sergeant, mounted, then took the corpse as de Loungville handed her up to him. After the sergeant had mounted his own horse, Erik said, “You let them off easy.”
De Loungvile said, “I know.”
“They should have died over a slow fire.”
“They deserved to suffer, but I’ll not visit that on any man.”
“Why? Why do you care what happens to scum like them?”
De Loungville moved his horse alongside Erik’s, so he was almost nose-to-nose with Erik when he answered. “I don’t care what happens to scum like them. You could cut off a piece at a time over a week and I wouldn’t give a whore’s promise for what it would do to them. But I do care what it would do to you, Erik.”
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