Biggo turned and with an affable smile said, ‘Sergeant, if one of us is to be hung for thinking we’d like to murder the good corporal, then you’d better hang us all, because we all think it at least a dozen times a day. And I’d rather you get it over with now than make us work for another week at this soldier drilling; I’m kind of tired of it. With all respect, Sergeant.’
De Loungville raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘This man speaking for you all?’
They looked from one to another. Then Erik said, ‘I think that’s the way it is, sir.’
Suddenly de Loungville was standing nose to nose with Biggo, having to rise up on his toes to accomplish the feat. ‘You’re not being told to think! What makes you imagine we care what you think? If you’re thinking, that means you have too much time on your hands. I can fix that.’
Turning to the two guards who had held Erik a moment before, he said, ‘We need the stables swept. Get these murderous dogs down there and have them pick up everything they find! And I don’t want them dirtying perfectly good brooms and pitchforks! They can pick everything up by hand! Now move them out!’
The two soldiers motioned for the prisoners to fall in and quick-marched them out of sight. As they vanished, Foster looked at de Loungville and said, ‘I think it’s starting to work, Bobby.’
De Loungville scratched his chin as he pondered. ‘I don’t know. We’ll see. But it had better. We’re going south short-handed and I’d hate to have to hang this lot the day before we sail.’
Foster said, ‘If Billy Goodwin didn’t cut my throat for calling his mother a whore – she was, but he’s touchy about it – then I think he’s learning. And the way they stuck up for him.’
De Loungville nodded. ‘Maybe you’re right. Or maybe they’re being clever. We’ll have to see, won’t we?’
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed back to the command building.
• Chapter Ten • Transition (#ulink_86e44e9d-e082-5375-b56c-693e28282c34)
The alarm sounded.
Drums beat as the camp turned out. It had been three days since Erik had overheard the discussion in Calis’s office, and the six prisoners had been training hard, focusing their attentions on doing whatever was necessary to remain alive. Foster became even more of a tyrant, abusing the men at every turn, and de Loungville studied them closely, looking for any sign they might fail to meet his demands.
Now a new day began with an unexpected twist. The prisoners moved out of their tent a good half hour earlier than usual and saw that the other men who lived in the compound were all hurrying to the command building. As they followed, they were intercepted by a guard, a soldier named Perry of Witcomb, who said, ‘Fall in behind me, and stay together. No talking!’
The six fell into their usual order, with Biggo at the lead and Sho Pi at the rear, Billy, Luis, Roo, and Erik in between. They reached the building as the door opened and Calis and de Loungville emerged.
De Loungville held his hand up for silence and said, ‘Listen up!’
Calis said, ‘We’ve been discovered. Two of our sentries were killed last night.’
A muttering broke out among the men in black, and de Loungville had to call for quiet again. Calis continued, ‘You all know what to do; we break camp now.’
Instantly the thirty men in black raced to their tents and the majority of soldiers began hurrying to their assigned places. Foster turned to Perry of Witcomb and gave instructions. The soldier gestured to the six prisoners and said, ‘You lot, come with me.’
They followed the soldier through the frantic but organized activity, and he led them to a large tent not far from the blacksmith’s shop. ‘Find clothing that fits,’ he ordered, ‘and put it on.’
The six entered and in the gloom saw a pile of common clothing. Erik stripped off his boots and then his tunic and trousers, throwing the ragged grey garments into the corner. He joined the others in rummaging through the pile, picking up tunics and judging their size, casting aside those that were obviously too small. Luis and Billy as well as Sho Pi found clothing quickly, being of more average size. But Roo, because of his diminutive stature, and Biggo and Erik, because of their bulk, took longer to find clothing that fit. Eventually, all six stood wearing fresh garments. Erik had found a dark blue tunic with an open collar and long sleeves. A pair of sailor’s trousers were the only pair of pants he could find that fit. He gave up trying to push the flared legs into the top of his boots, and let them fall outside.
Laughter caused Erik to turn and there he saw Roo with an angry expression. ‘It’s the only one that fits!’ he said as Billy and Luis made rude observations. The shirt was open to the waist, and a lurid purple color. Making matters worse, the only pair of trousers small enough were a bright crimson.
‘Then pick one that doesn’t fit,’ said Erik, trying hard not to laugh.
Roo peeled off the offending shirt and looked some more, finding a plain white tunic that was only slightly too large. He tucked the voluminous tails of the shirt into his loud red waistband and Erik nodded. ‘Now you look only slightly ridiculous instead of completely ridiculous.’
Roo grimaced, then smiled. ‘Red’s my lucky color.’
‘Get out of there!’ called Perry and the prisoners came out of the tent. ‘Get to the smithy, and get aboard the last wagon in line. There will be two mounted crossbowmen behind you, so don’t imagine you’ll get a chance to go for a stroll.’
He started to move away, then turned and said, ‘And tuck those nooses out of sight.’
The six prisoners had grown used to being required to wear the nooses at all times, outside their tunics. They had put them back on after changing. Now they tucked them inside, so they wouldn’t be seen.
Biggo had to quickly strip off his tunic and put on the noose, then put the tunic on, as the neck of his shirt was close-fitting. Luis said, ‘A bit lumpy for high fashion, my friend, but it will do.’
Since coming to the compound from the prison, Erik had noticed Luis was vain – in addition to having a temper and being arrogant – but he still found himself liking the Rodezian knife man. He had shaved off his grey beard, but let his mustache grow, as well as keeping his shoulder-length hair neatly trimmed. Luis was becoming something of a peacock. The clothing he had selected was as fashionable as possible, given the choice. Erik had no doubt Luis was not simply speaking of high fashion in the abstract but was a man who had dressed for court functions before his temper and violent nature had brought him to low estate. He had said nothing of his past, but once had mentioned having been friends with the son of the Duke of Rodez.
They hurried to the smithy and Erik noticed with a sense of awe just how fast the forge and other equipment were being carried out of the building. Everywhere they looked, men were hurriedly tearing down all signs of occupation. Newcomers to the camp, workmen from somewhere – probably Krondor – were now starting to tear apart the three buildings that dominated the compound. Foster was waiting for them at the smithy and motioned for them to climb into a wagon. Two guards sat atop the buckboard and two more climbed in after the prisoners, who sat three to each side of the wagon as they had when arriving. Two more guardsmen, on horseback, moved in behind the wagon, and they set out.
Erik glanced around. Roo seemed half-excited, half-afraid of the significance of what was occurring. Luis watched carefully, as did Biggo. Billy seemed amused, and Sho Pi was looking off into the distance.
Some of the men whom Erik recognized as having been dressed in black were now dressed as were the prisoners, in a variety of clothing, ranging from almost ragged to nobles’ finery. Some rode on horseback and others in wagons and more than a dozen were leaving the compound by foot. Two more riders approached, and Erik saw they were Robert de Loungville and Corporal Foster.
De Loungville pulled up next to the wagon and said, ‘All right, listen up. I was talking to Calis about hanging you all this morning, but we couldn’t take the time. Nothing spoils my breakfast like a rushed hanging. Calis agrees with me that we can do it later when we can be more leisurely and do things properly. You men are going to live a few days longer. But don’t think we’ve fallen in love with you; those two lads behind you with the crossbows have orders to shoot any one of you foolish enough to try to get down from this wagon. Understood?’
‘Yes, Sergeant!’ they all said.
‘And another thing, until I tell you, no more of that shouting “Yes, Sergeant.” It’ll call attention to you. And attention’s too much of what we have right now. So keep your mouths shut and do as you’re told until we get where we’re going.’ Without another word, he put heels to his horse and cantered off. Foster followed, only a length behind.
Erik looked around and noticed no one else seemed willing to risk a crossbow bolt by saying anything, so he settled down as best he could in the jouncing wagon and tried to relax.
Along the road to Krondor they passed groups of men on foot, many dressed as common mercenaries, farmers, or laborers. Others rode in wagons and kept to themselves. A few passed by on horseback, each appearing oblivious to the others.
Other traffic appeared on the road, heading toward the capital of the Western Realm. Farm wagons heavy with late summer crops and the first of the early fall harvest rumbled toward Krondor. Traders with their goods piled high and the occasional noble’s carriage joined the traffic.
There was no roadblock, and Erik and the others moved rapidly down the road leading to the southern gate to the city, the one closest to the palace in which they had all been condemned to die. In the midday light, the palace looked splendid, rising up as it did above the harbor. Towers were aflutter with banners, and the city spread majestically around the ancient hill upon which the first keep of the first Prince of Krondor had been constructed.
At the southern gate, guards waved them through, and the wagon started a convoluted course through the city. At last they entered the docks area near the poor quarter, and Foster suddenly appeared. Without raising his voice, he said, ‘You lot, get out of that wagon and get into that boat down there.’ He pointed to a longboat that bobbed on the tide at the bottom of a flight of stone stairs leading down from the quayside. Erik and the others hurried down the stone steps and entered the boat, each being told where to sit by a pair of sailors. As soon as Roo, last to enter, was seated, Foster joined them and the sailors pushed off. Expertly the two sailors rowed the longboat toward a ship in the harbor.
Erik knew nothing of ships. But this one dwarfed most of those nearby. It had three masts, rising high into the sky like bare trees, and it was painted a daunting black. Other ships near it were green or red, or blue, and there was even one that was a gaudy yellow, making the black ship all the more impressive for its somber appearance. The longboat reached the side of the ship and Foster said, ‘Up you go,’ pointing to a net hung over the side. Erik rose and gripped the netting like a ladder and started to climb. The weight of those below pulling on the net caused him to twist and dip a little, but he made it safely to the rail, where sailors half hauled him aboard.
A man in a strange uniform – blue coat cut high at the waist, white trousers, and a saber hanging from a baldric slung across his shoulder – motioned for Erik to stand away. When the others were aboard, Foster called up, ‘That lot is to be kept together, Mr Collins!’
The man in the strange uniform leaned over the rail and said, ‘In with the others?’
‘Yes,’ answered Foster as the longboat pulled away. ‘But in a corner, Mr Collins!’
‘Aye, aye, Corporal Foster.’
The man named Collins turned and ordered, ‘Follow me.’
He moved down a strange ladder, narrow and steep, into a square hatchway, forward of the main mast. Erik was the last into the hold, and his eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom. They entered a cargo hold that had been reconfigured to act as a barracks. Erik saw that twenty triple bunks had been fastened to the bulkheads, ten to each side of the ship, lengthwise, creating a fairly wide aisle.
Between the head of one set of three bunks and the foot of the next set, large trunks had been affixed to the deck, in which men were busy stowing gear. Collins motioned for the six prisoners to follow him. He led them to the two sets of bunks farthest from the other men, set against the starboard bulkhead; those across the hold on the port side were empty. He motioned for them to occupy the bunks. ‘This is where you’ll sleep. You’ll eat on deck unless the weather’s too rough, when you’ll be eating here. You can store your gear in those two trunks.’ He pointed to the trunk closest to the bulkhead at the aft of the cargo hold and the one between the two sets of bunks they were assigned.
Roo said, ‘We’ve got no gear.’
