Shadow of a Dark Queen by Raymond E. Feist

things that make life here in the Kingdom the way it is.”
    Greylock nodded. Erik said nothing for a moment, thinking about the possibility things might turn out right after all, when the front door of the inn opened, and Roo hurried in.
    He saw Erik from across the room and quickly came through the crowded commons to where his friend sat. Nodding with as much deference as he could muster to the Baron’s Swordmaster, he said, “Master Greylock, they need you over at the Peacock, sir.”
    Owen threw a quick glance at Erik. His expression betrayed his worry. It couldn’t be good news. He stood, said a quick good-bye, and left. Roo took his place. Nathan said, “You a squire these days, Roo?”
    Roo made a face as if that remark put a bad taste in his mouth. “I was hanging around the fountain by the Growers’ and Vintners’ Hall and a soldier came out and told all of us to spread out and look for the Swordmaster and fetch him to the Peacock’s Tail. So I told the other lads I’d come here.”
    Erik smiled. “I was hoping you’d come by tonight.”
    â€œI would have been here sooner, but Gwen was at the fountain and . . .”
    Erik shook his head. “So you’re back in her favor once again?”
    â€œTrying to be,” said Roo.
    Nathan said, “How’d you like to apprentice at the forge, Roo?”
    It was a joke, and they all knew it, but Roo still said, “What, me get all dirty and grimy? You get your hands calloused, and the horses step on your feet! Not on your life. I have plans.”
    Erik smiled, but Nathan said, “Really? What sort of plans?”
    Roo glanced around the room, as if fearing to be overheard. “There are ways to make a living that have nothing to do with guilds and apprenticeships, friend smith.”
    Nathan’s brow furrowed. “You’re going to end up in jail, Roo.”
    Roo put up his hands as if protesting innocence. “No, nothing dodgy, I swear. It’s just my father has been hauling enough from Krondor up to here that I’m getting pretty good at nosing out what the markets are for different things. I’ve saved a little money, and I’m going to invest it in a cargo one of these days.”
    Nathan appeared impressed. “A shipping concern?”
    â€œThere are syndicates in Krondor and Salador that routinely underwrite the cost of freight hauls from one city to another, or cargoes for ships bound to distant ports. They have subscribers and return nice profits on their investments.”
    Nathan nodded. “True, but there’s risk as well. If a cargo isn’t delivered on time, your profit can vanish. Worse, if bandits take the caravan, or the ship sinks, you lose everything.”
    Roo looked as if this would never happen. “I plan on starting small and building up my capital for a few years.”
    â€œWhat do you plan on doing to eat and put a roof over your head while you invest in these ventures?” asked Nathan.
    Roo said, “Well, I haven’t quite worked that out, but—”
    â€œHow much capital have you, Roo?” interrupted Nathan.
    â€œOn to thirty golden sovereigns,” he said proudly.
    Nathan was impressed. “Quite a beginning. I think I’ll forbear asking how you’ve managed to amass such a young fortune, and”—he turned to Erik—“I suggest you get back to the forge and keep out of sight. When the coach comes in the morning is time enough for your good-byes. If Master Greylock needs another word with you, I’ll send him to you.”
    Erik nodded and rose. Roo followed him. The two youngsters passed from the crowded common room to the kitchen, where Rosalyn was hurrying to carry a large platter of steaming greens out to the soldiers. Freida worked feverishly over her stew as if it were just another busy night at the inn and not her last in the home of her birth.
    Erik walked