Rise of a Merchant Prince by Raymond E. Feist Page A

the cost, but now that warmth was returning to his bones glad they were not returning to the weather outside.
    â€œFit to be blowing up a rare storm tonight,” said the innkeeper as he came and took their cloaks and hats. “Will you be dining?” He handed the cloaks and hats to the girl, who took them somewhere warm to hang and dry.
    â€œYes,” said Erik. “What wine have you?”
    â€œFit for a lord,” said the man with a smile.
    â€œAny from Ravensburg?” asked Erik as he made his way to an empty table.
    Save for a solitary man with a sword in the far corner and two merchants obviously taking their ease before the fireplace, the inn was deserted. The innkeeper followed them, “We do, sir. It’s the next town over, then one more, and on to Ravensburg.”
    â€œSo we are in Wilhelmsburg,” said Roo.
    â€œYes,” answered the innkeeper. “Are you familiar with the area?”
    â€œWe’re from Ravensburg,” answered Erik. “It’s just been a while since we’ve been there and in the darkness we weren’t sure which town this was.”
    â€œBring us some wine, please,” asked Roo, “then supper.” The meal was filling, if not memorable, and the wine better than expected; it clearly had a styleand finish familiar to both Roo and Erik. It was the common wine of Ravensburg, but compared to what they had been drinking the last year and more, this seemed a bottle fit for the King’s table. Both young men fell into a quiet mood, anticipating the homecoming the next day.
    For Roo it was nothing much to do with his past; his immediate family was his father, Tom Avery, a drunken teamster whose only legacy to Roo had been beatings and teaching him to drive a team of horses. Roo was much more interested in seeking out some minor wine merchants he knew and arranging what he hoped would be the start of his rise to riches.
    For Erik it was coming home to his mother and the shattered dream of his youth: a blacksmith’s forge and a family. He had served old Tyndal the smith for years before Tyndal’s death, then a year and more with Nathan, who had been the closest thing to a father he had known. But life took its own course, and nothing seemed to be as he had hoped it would, when he was a child in Ravensburg.
    â€œWhat are you thinking?” asked Roo. “You’ve been quiet a long time.”
    â€œYou haven’t exactly been bending my ear,” replied Erik, a smile on his face. “Just about home and what it was like before.”
    He didn’t have to say before what. Roo knew: before a struggle with Erik’s half brother Stefan ended up with Roo’s dagger driven into Stefan’s chest as Erik held him. After that they had fled Ravensburg and had not seen friend or family since.
    Roo said, “I wonder if anyone told them we live?”
    Erik laughed. “If they didn’t, our arrival tomorrow will be something of a surprise.”
    The door opened and the howl of the wind caused the two young men to turn. Four soldiers in the garb of the barony entered, cursing the night’s foul weather.
    â€œInnkeeper!” shouted the corporal as he removed his sopping great cloak. “Hot food and mulled wine!” He glanced around the room, then his gaze returned to Roo and Erik. His eyes widened.
    â€œVon Darkmoor!” he blurted. The other three soldiers fanned out, not quite sure why their corporal had called out their Baron’s name, but clearly alerted to trouble by his tone.
    Erik and Roo stood, and the two merchants moved away from their chairs before the fireplace, hugging the wall. The only other person in the room, the swordsman, looked on with interest, but didn’t move.
    The corporal had his sword out, and as Roo made to draw his own, Erik motioned for him to return it to its scabbard. “We’re not looking for trouble, Corporal.”
    The corporal said, “We