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

you can beat the King’s own hangman and learn to handle yourself so I can’t bully you, why, I figure you’ll turn out all right down the road.” Tom smiled slightly and said, “You’re like her that way; you’re tougher than you look.”
    Roo sat in silence a minute, not knowing what to say, then after a bit he said, “Why don’t you turn in, Father. I have some thinking to do.”
    Tom nodded. “I think I will. Got a pain in my neck.” He moved his left shoulder as if to loosen tight muscles. “Must have really twisted it hitting the ground when those lads started shooting arrows at us. Hurts from my wrist to my jaw.” He wiped perspiration from his brow. “Broke a bit of sweat, too.” He sucked in a large breath and blew it out, as if just standing had been exertion. “Getting too old for this. When you get rich, you remember your old father, hear me, Roo?”
    Roo started to smile and say something when his father’s eyes rolled up into his head and he fell forward,facedown into the fire. Roo yelled, “Duncan!” and with a single move yanked his father out of the flames.
    Duncan was over in an instant and saw the waxy pallor of Tom’s face, the white eyes, and smoldering burns on his cheek and neck. He knelt next to Roo, then said, “He’s dead.”
    Roo remained motionless as he silently regarded the man who had been his father, and who had died still a stranger to him.

4
Setback
    Roo signaled.
    Duncan reined in the second wagon, coming to a halt behind the first. Roo turned, stood, and shouted, “Krondor!”
    They had been traveling this way since burying Tom, in a grave Roo had dug with his bare hands, covering him with stones to keep scavengers away. Duncan had become a fair driver. He had remembered a few things taught to him by Tom when he was a boy, and Roo had increased his skill until he no longer had to spend every minute worrying about the second wagon and its cargo.
    Roo was still troubled by his father’s death. He couldn’t escape the feeling that he had glimpsed something in his father when he had been speaking about Roo’s mother. Roo knew there was a great deal about his own history he didn’t understand. His father had always been an aloof man when sober and abusive when drunk, and in part Roo now understood why: each time Tom looked at his son he saw a reminder of the wife he had loved beyond measure,taken from him at Roo’s birth.
    But there had been more, and Roo now had dozens of questions, none of which his father would ever answer. He vowed to return to Ravensburg and try to find those few people in the town Tom might have called friend, to ask them those questions. Perhaps he might travel to Salador to visit with Duncan’s branch of the family. But he wanted answers. Suddenly Roo had been made aware that he really didn’t know who he was. Pushing aside that thought, he insisted to himself it wasn’t as important who one is as who one becomes, and he was determined to become a rich, respected man.
    Duncan tied off the reins and jumped down from his wagon, walking to where Roo stood. Roo had come to like his cousin, though there was still the rogue in his manner, and Duncan didn’t bring out any strong sense of trust, the way Roo trusted Erik or the other men he had served with under Calis. But he liked the man and thought he might be useful, for he had enough experience with nobility to tutor Roo in manners and fashion.
    Duncan climbed up on the first wagon and looked at the distant city. “We’re going in tonight?” he asked.
    Roo glanced at the setting sun and said, “I don’t think so. I’d have to find a stable yard to house this wine until we could move out in the morning. We’re still more than an hour from the gate now. Let’s make a camp and we’ll head in at first light, try to sell some of this before the inns get