‘Never!’ Kalten half-shouted.
‘If they continue to twist you, it will happen, Kalten.’
‘We’ll fall on our swords first,’ Bevier declared.
‘Why on earth would you want to do that?’ she asked him. ‘All you have to do is confine the jewel in something made of steel. That canvas pouch is marked with the Styric symbols for iron, but Bhelliom and the Troll-Gods are growing desperate, and symbols aren’t enough now. You’ll have to use the real thing.’
Sparhawk made a sour face, suddenly feeling just a little foolish.
‘I’ve been thinking all along that the shadow – and now that cloud – had come from Azash,’ he confessed.
Aphrael stared at him. ‘You what?’ she exclaimed.
‘It seemed sort of logical,’ he said lamely. ‘Azash has been trying to kill me since this all started.’
‘Why would Azash chase you around with clouds and shadows when He has much more substantial things at His command? Is that the very best all that logic could come up with?’
‘I knew it!’ Bevier exclaimed. ‘I knew we were overlooking something when you first told us about that shadow, Sparhawk! It didn’t really have to be Azash after all.’
Sparhawk suddenly felt very foolish.
‘Why is it that I’ve got so much power over Bhelliom?’ he asked her.
‘Because of the rings.’
‘Ghwerig had the rings before I did.’
‘But they were clear stones then. Now they’re red with the blood of your family and the blood of Ehlana’s.’
‘Just the colour is enough to make it obey me?’
Aphrael stared at him and then at Sephrenia. ‘Do you mean they don’t know why their blood is red?’ she asked incredulously. ‘What have you been doing, sister?’
‘It’s a difficult concept for them, Aphrael.’
The little Goddess stamped away, flinging her arms in the air and muttering Styric words she should not have known existed.
‘Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia said calmly, ‘your blood is red because it has iron in it.’
‘It has?’ He was stunned. ‘How’s that possible?’
‘Just believe what I say, Sparhawk. It’s those blood-stained rings that give you so much power over the jewel.’
‘What an amazing thing,’ he said.
Aphrael returned then. ‘Once Bhelliom is confined in steel, you’ll have no further interference from the Troll-Gods,’ she told them. ‘The rest of you will stop plotting to kill Sparhawk, and you’ll all be as one again.’
‘Couldn’t you have just told us what to do without all these explanations?’ Kurik asked her. ‘These are Church Knights, Flute. They’re used to following orders they don’t understand. They almost have to be.’
‘I suppose I could have,’ she admitted, laying one small hand caressingly on his bearded cheek, ‘but I missed you – all of you – and I wanted you to see the place where I live.’
‘Showing off?’ he teased her.
‘Well –’ She blushed slightly. ‘Is that so very, very improper?’
‘It’s a lovely island, Flute, and we’re proud that you chose to show it to us.’
She threw her arms about his neck and smothered him with kisses. Her face, Sparhawk noticed, however, was wet with tears as she kissed the gruff squire.
‘You must return now,’ she told them, ‘for the night is nearly over. First, however –’
The kissing went on for quite some time. When the dark-haired little Goddess came to Talen, she brushed her lips lightly against his and then started towards Tynian. She stopped, a speculative look on her face, and then returned to the young thief and did a more complete job on him. When she moved on, she was smiling mysteriously.
‘And hath our gentle mistress resolved thy turmoil, Sir Knight?’ the snowy hind asked as the swan-like boat returned the two of them to the alabaster strand where the gaily-coloured pavilion awaited them.
‘I will know that with more certainty when mine eyes again open on the mundane world from which she summoned me, gentle creature,’ he replied. He found that he could not help himself. The flowery speech came to his lips unbidden. He sighed ruefully.
The note of the pipes was slightly discordant, a scolding sort of note.
‘An it please thee, dear Aphrael,’ he surrendered.
‘That’s much better, Sparhawk.’ The voice was no more than a whisper in his ears.
The small white deer led him back to the pavilion, and he laid him down again, a strange, bemused drowsiness coming over him.
‘Remember me,’ the hind said softly, nuzzling at his cheek.
‘I will,’ he promised, ‘and gladly, for thy sweet presence doth ease my troubled soul and bids me rest.’
And then again he slept.
He awoke in an ugly world of black sand and chill, blowing dust reeking of things long dead. His hair was clogged with the dust, and it abraded his skin beneath his clothing. What had really awakened him, however, was a small, tinking sound, the sound of someone firmly tapping on ringing steel with a small hammer.
Despite the turmoil of the previous day, he felt enormously refreshed and at peace with the world.
The ringing sound of the hammer stopped, and Kurik crossed their dusty camp site with something in his hands. He held it out to Sparhawk. ‘What do you think?’ he asked. ‘Will this lock it in?’ What he was holding in his callused hands was a chain-mail pouch. ‘It’s about the best I can do for now, My Lord. I don’t have too much steel to work with.’
Sparhawk took the pouch and looked at his squire. ‘You too?’ he asked. ‘You had a dream too?’
Kurik nodded. ‘I talked with Sephrenia about it,’ he said. ‘We all had the same dream – it wasn’t exactly a dream, though. She tried to explain it to me, but she lost me.’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry, Sparhawk. I doubted you. Everything seemed so futile and hopeless.’
‘That was the Troll-Gods, Kurik. Let’s get Bhelliom into the steel pouch so that it doesn’t happen to you again.’ He took up the canvas pouch and began to untie the strings.
‘Wouldn’t it be easier just to leave it inside the canvas sack?’ Kurik asked.
‘It might make it easier to put it into the steel one, but the time’s coming when I might have to take it out in a hurry. I don’t want any knots getting in my way when Azash is breathing down the back of my neck.’
‘Sound thinking, My Lord.’
Sparhawk lifted the Sapphire Rose in both hands and held it directly in front of his face. ‘Blue-Rose,’ he said to it in Troll, ‘I am Sparhawk-from-Elenia. Do you know me?’
The Rose flickered sullenly.
‘Do you acknowledge my authority?’
The Rose grew dark, and he could feel its hatred.
He inched his right thumb up along his palm and turned the ring on his finger around. Then he held the ring against the flower-gem – not the band this time but the blood-stained stone itself. He pressed his hand firmly against the Sapphire Rose.
Bhelliom shrieked, and he could feel it writhing in his hand like a live snake. He relaxed the pressure slightly. ‘I’m glad we understand each other,’ he said. ‘Hold open the pouch, Kurik.’
There was no resistance. The jewel seemed almost eager to enter its imprisonment.
‘Neat,’ Kurik said admiringly as Sparhawk wrapped a strand of soft iron wire around the top of the steel-link pouch.
‘I thought it might be worth a try,’ Sparhawk grinned. ‘Are the others up yet?’
Kurik nodded. ‘They’re standing in line over by the fire. You might give some thought to issuing a general amnesty, Sparhawk. Otherwise, they’ll fill up half the morning with apologies. Be particularly careful about Bevier. He’s been praying since before daylight. It’s likely to take him a long time to tell you just how guilty he feels.’
‘He’s a good boy, Kurik.’
‘Of course he is. That’s part of the problem.’
‘Cynic’
Kurik
grinned at him.
As the two of them crossed the camp, Kurik looked up at the sky. ‘The wind’s died,’ he observed, ‘and the dust seems to be settling. Do you suppose –?’ He left it tentative.
‘Probably,’ Sparhawk said. ‘It sort of fits together, doesn’t it? Well, here goes.’ He cleared his throat as he approached his shamefaced friends. ‘Interesting night, wasn’t it?’ he asked them conversationally. ‘I was really getting attached to that little white deer. She had a cold, wet nose, though.’
They laughed, sounding a bit strained.
‘All right,’ he said then. ‘Now we know where all the gloom was coming from, and there’s not really much point in ploughing over it again and again, is there? It was nobody’s fault, so why don’t we forget about it? We’ve got more important things to think about right now.’ He held up the steel-link pouch. ‘Here’s our blue friend,’ he told them. ‘I hope it’s comfortable in its little iron sack, but comfortable or not, that’s where it’s going to stay – at least until we need it. Whose turn is it to cook breakfast?’
‘Yours,’ Ulath told him.
‘I cooked supper last night.’
‘What’s that got to do with it?’
‘That’s hardly fair, Ulath.’
‘I just keep track of these things, Sparhawk. If you’re interested in justice, go and talk with the Gods.’
The rest of them laughed, and everything was all right again.
While Sparhawk was preparing breakfast, Sephrenia joined him at the fire. ‘I owe you an apology, dear one,’ she confessed.
‘Oh?’
‘I didn’t even suspect that the Troll-Gods might have been the source of that shadow.’
‘I’d hardly call that your fault, Sephrenia. I was so convinced that it was Azash that I wasn’t willing to admit any other possibility.’
‘I’m supposed to know better, Sparhawk. I’m not supposed to rely on logic.’
‘I think it might have been Perraine that led us in the wrong direction, little mother,’ he said gravely. ‘Those attacks of his came at Martel’s direction, and Martel was simply following an earlier strategy laid down by Azash. Since it was just a continuation of what had been going on before, we had no reason to suspect that something new had entered the game. Even after we found out that Perraine had nothing to do with the shadow, the old idea still stuck. Don’t blame yourself, Sephrenia, because I certainly don’t blame you. What surprises me is that Aphrael didn’t see that we were making a mistake and warn us about it.’
Sephrenia smiled a bit ruefully. ‘I’m afraid it was because she couldn’t believe that we didn’t understand. She has no real conception of just how limited we are, Sparhawk.’
‘Shouldn’t you tell her?’
‘I’d sooner die.’
Kurik’s speculation may or may not have been correct, but whether that constant wind which had choked them with dust for the past few days had been of natural origin or whether Bhelliom had roused it, it was gone now, and the air was clear and cold. The sky was bright, brittle blue, and the sun, cold and hard, hung above the eastern horizon. That, coupled with the vision of the preceding night, lifted their spirits enough to make it even possible for them to ignore the black cloud hovering on the horizon behind them.
‘Sparhawk,’ Tynian said, pulling his horse in beside Faran, ‘I think I’ve finally figured it out.’
‘Figured what out?’
‘I think I know how Ulath decides whose turn it is to cook.’
‘Oh? I’d like to hear that.’
‘He just waits until somebody asks, that’s all. As soon as somebody asks whose turn it is, Ulath appoints him to do the cooking.’
Sparhawk thought back. ‘You could be right, you know,’ he agreed, ‘but what if nobody asks?’
‘Then Ulath has to do the cooking himself. It happened once as I recall.’
Sparhawk thought it over. ‘Why don’t you tell the others?’ he suggested. ‘I think Ulath has a lot of turns coming, don’t you?’
‘He does indeed, my friend,’ Tynian laughed.
It was about mid-afternoon when they reached a steep ridge of sharply-fractured black rock. There was a sort of a trail winding towards its top. When they were about half-way up, Talen called to Sparhawk from the rear. ‘Why don’t we stop here?’ he suggested. ‘I’ll sneak on ahead and take a look.’
‘It’s too dangerous,’ Sparhawk turned him down flatly.
‘Grow up, Sparhawk. That’s what I do. I’m a professional sneak. Nobody’s going to see me. I can guarantee that.’ The boy paused. ‘Besides,’ he added, ‘if there’s any kind of trouble, you’re going to need grown men wearing steel to help you. I wouldn’t be of much use in a fight, so I’m the only one you can really spare.’ He made a face. ‘I can’t believe I just said that. I want you all to promise to keep Aphrael away from me. I think she’s an unhealthy influence.’
‘Forget it,’ Sparhawk rejected the idea.
‘No chance, Sparhawk,’ the boy said impudently, rolling out of his saddle and hitting the ground running. ‘None of you can catch me.’
‘He’s long overdue for a good thrashing,’ Kurik growled as they watched the nimble boy scamper up the side of the ridge.
‘He’s right, though,’ Kalten said. ‘He’s the only one we can really afford to lose. Somewhere along the way he’s picked up a fairly wide streak of nobility. You should be proud of him, Kurik.’
‘Pride wouldn’t do me much good when it came time to try to explain to his mother why I let him get himself killed.’
Above them, Talen had disappeared almost as if the ground had opened and swallowed him. He emerged several minutes later from a fissure near the top of the ridge and ran back down the trail to rejoin them. ‘There’s a city out there,’ he reported. ‘It would almost have to be Zemoch, wouldn’t it?’
Sparhawk took his map out of his saddlebag. ‘How big is the city?’
‘About the size of Cimmura.’
‘It has to be Zemoch then. What does it look like?’
‘I think it was sort of what they had in mind when they invented the word “ominous”.’
‘Was there any smoke?’ Kurik asked him.
‘Only coming from the chimneys of a couple of large buildings in the centre of the city. They seemed to be sort of connected. One of them has all kinds of spires, and the other one’s got a big black dome.’
‘The rest of the city must be deserted,’ Kurik said. ‘Have you ever been in Zemoch before, Sephrenia?’
‘Once.’
‘What’s the place with all the spires?’
‘Otha’s palace.’
‘And the one with the black dome?’ Kurik did not really have to ask. They all knew the answer.
‘The building with the black dome is the Temple of Azash. He’s there – waiting for us.’
Chapter 26
Subterfuge had never really been an option, Sparhawk concluded as he and his companions put aside their minimal disguises to don their armour. Deceiving unsophisticated peasants and third-rate militiamen out in the countryside was one thing, but attempting to pass unchallenged through a deserted city patrolled by elite troops would have been futile. Ultimately they would be obliged to resort to force of arms, and under the circumstances, that meant full armour. Chain-mail was adequate for impromptu social get-togethers in rural surroundings, he thought wryly, but city life required greater formality. Country attire simply would not do.
‘All right, what’s the plan?’ Kalten asked as the knights helped each other into their armour.
‘I haven’t exactly put one together yet,’ Sparhawk admitted. ‘To be perfectly honest with you, I didn’t really think we’d get this far. I thought the best we could hope for was to get close enough to Otha’s city to include it in the general destruction when I smashed the Bhelliom. As soon as we get settled into harness, we’ll talk with Sephrenia.’
High, thin clouds had begun to drift in from the east during the aftern
oon, and as the day moved on towards sunset, those clouds began to thicken. The desiccated chill began to lessen, and it was replaced by a peculiar sultriness. There were occasional rumblings of thunder far beyond the eastern horizon when, as the sun was dying amidst bloody clouds, the knights gathered around Sephrenia.
‘Our glorious leader here seems to have neglected a few strategic incidentals,’ Kalten announced to sort of start things off.
‘Be nice,’ Sparhawk murmured to him.
‘I am, Sparhawk. I haven’t used the word “idiot” even once. The question that makes us all burn with curiosity is what do we do now?’
‘Just offhand I’d say we could rule out a siege,’ Ulath observed.
‘Frontal assaults are always fun,’ Tynian said.
‘Do you mind?’ Sparhawk said to them acidly. ‘This is sort of how I see it, Sephrenia. We’ve got what appears to be a deserted city out there, but there are sure to be patrols of Otha’s élite guards. We might possibly be able to avoid them, but it wouldn’t be a good idea to pin too many hopes on that. I just wish I knew a little bit more about the city itself.’
‘And about how good Otha’s elite guards are,’ Tynian added.
‘They’re adequate soldiers,’ Bevier supplied.
‘Would they be a match for Church Knights?’ Tynian asked.
‘No, but then who is?’ Bevier said it with no trace of immodesty. ‘They’re probably about on a par with the soldiers in King Wargun’s army.’
‘You’ve been here before, Sephrenia,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Just exactly where are the palace and the temple located?’
‘They’re the same building actually,’ she replied, ‘and they’re in the exact centre of the city.’
‘Then it wouldn’t really matter which gate we used, would it?’
She shook her head.
‘Isn’t it rather odd for a palace and a temple to be under the same roof?’ Kurik asked.