Rage of a Demon King Read Online Free Page B

half-amused, half-astonished to discover that his best friend had, in less than two years, contrived to become one of Krondor’s preeminent merchants and one of the Kingdom’s richest men. But as he saw the ship’s master and crew snap to every order Roo gave, he realized that Rupert Avery, barely more than a common thief as a child, and hardly more than a boy now, truly owned that ship.
    Erik had told Roo of what he and the others had discovered, and he needed no embellishment to conveythe horror and disgust he felt at fighting through the Pantathian birthing halls. Of those who had not traveled to Novindus with Calis on his most recent journey, Roo, Nakor, and Sho Pi had been there previously, and knew what the others faced. Slowly, over the voyage, Erik had provided enough grisly details about the slaughter of Pantathian females and infants, as well as about the mysterious “third player” who had accomplished more carnage than Calis’s raiders ever could have done. Unless there were birthing crèches located elsewhere—and it seemed unlikely—the only living Pantathians were those close to the Emerald Queen. If they were finally defeated in the coming battle, the Pantathian serpent priests would cease to exist, a fate most fervently hoped for by the two boyhood friends from Darkmoor.
    Roo and Erik had parted almost as soon as the ship had berthed, as Roo had businesses to oversee. Two days later, Erik had left on maneuvers, evaluating the training Jadow Shati had inflicted upon the men while Calis had been gone. Erik was pleased that the new men under his command for the last week were as disciplined and reliable as those he had trained with when he had been a common soldier.
    Entering the palace, Erik was again uncomfortable at finding himself in the halls of power and in the presence of the great of the Kingdom. He had served for a year in Krondor before leaving with Calis on the last voyage, but had confined himself to the training grounds most of the time. He came to the palace proper only when summoned or to borrow a book on tactics or some other aspect of warcraft from Knight-Marshal William. He was never comfortablewith the supreme commander of the King’s Armies of the West, but he finally grew used to spending hours over ale or wine discussing what he had read and how it would bear on the armies he was helping fashion. But, given a choice, Erik would rather be in the drilling yard, working with the armorers around the forge, or tending to the horses, or most of all, out in the field, where life was too demanding to think much about the larger consequences of the coming war.
    In the Prince’s private chamber, actually, Erik thought, a small hall, other men waited, including Lord James, Duke of Krondor, and Jadow Shati, the other sergeant in Calis’s company. Erik expected Jadow would be promoted to sergeant major to replace Bobby. Upon the table a lavish board of cheeses, meats, fruit, bread, and vegetables had been laid out. Ale, wine, and frosted pitchers of fruit juices were also waiting.
    “Set to,” said the Prince of Krondor, removing his ceremonial crown and mantle and handing them to waiting pages. Calis picked up an apple and bit into it while others moved around the table.
    Erik motioned to Roo, who came over to him.
    “How did you find things at home?” Erik asked.
    Roo said, “The children are . . . amazing. They’ve grown so much in the months I was gone I scarcely recognize them.” His faced creased in a thoughtful expression. “My business endured my absence well enough, though not as well as I expected. Jacob Esterbrook had the better of me three times while I was gone. One transaction cost me a small fortune.”
    “I thought you and he were friends,” said Erik, taking a bite of bread and cheese.
    “In a manner of speaking,” said Roo. He had thought better of mentioning his relationship to Sylvia Esterbrook, Jacob’s daughter, given that Erik tended to have a narrow view