Chapter 22

‘Sparhawk.’ It was Kurik, and he was shaking his Lord into wakefulness. ‘It’s about an hour before dawn. You wanted me to wake you.’

‘Don’t you ever sleep?’ Sparhawk sat up in his bed, yawning. Then he swung his legs out of bed and put his feet on the floor.

‘I slept fine.’ Kurik looked critically at his friend. ‘You’re not eating enough,’ he accused. ‘Your bones are sticking out. Get dressed. I’ll go and wake the others, and then I’ll come back and help you into your armour.’

Sparhawk rose and pulled on his quilted and rust-splotched undergarments.

‘Very chic,’ Stragen observed sardonically from the doorway. ‘Is there some obscure part of the knightly code that prohibits laundering those garments?’

‘They take a week to dry.’

‘Are they really necessary?’

‘Have you ever worn armour, Stragen?’

‘God forbid.’

‘Try it sometime. The padding keeps the armour from grinding off your skin in unusual places.’

‘Ah, the things we endure in order to be stylish.’

‘Are you really planning to turn back at the Zemoch border?’

‘The queen’s orders, old boy. Besides, I’d just be in your way. I’m profoundly unsuited to confront a God. Frankly, I think you’re insane – no offence intended, of course.’

‘Are you going back to Emsat from Cimmura?’

‘If your wife gives me permission to leave. I really should get back – if only to check over the books. Tel’s fairly dependable, but he is a thief, after all.’

‘And then?’

‘Who knows?’ Stragen shrugged. ‘I’m at loose ends in the world, Sparhawk. I have a unique sort of freedom. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. Oh, I almost forgot. I didn’t really come by this morning to discuss the ins and outs of liberty with you.’ He reached inside his doublet. ‘A letter for you, My Lord,’ he said with a mocking bow. ‘From your wife, I believe.’

‘How many of those do you have?’ Sparhawk asked, taking the folded sheet. Stragen had delivered one of Ehlana’s brief, impassioned notes to her husband in Kadach and yet another in Motera.

‘That’s a state secret, my friend.’

‘Do you have some sort of agenda? Or are you distributing them when the spirit moves you?’

‘A little of each, old boy. There is an agenda, of course, but I’m to use my own judgement in these matters. If I see that you’re becoming downcast or moody, I’m supposed to brighten your day. I’ll leave you to your reading now.’ He stepped back out into the hallway and moved off down the corridor towards the stairs leading to the lower floor of the inn.

Sparhawk broke the seal and opened Ehlana’s letter.

‘Beloved,’ it began. ‘If all has gone well, you’re in Paler by now – this is terribly awkward, you know. I’m trying to look into the future, and my eyes aren’t strong enough for that. I’m talking to you from weeks and weeks in the past, and I haven’t the faintest idea of what’s been happening to you. I dare not tell you of my anguish or my desolation at this unnatural separation, for should I unburden my heart to you, I would weaken your resolve, and that could endanger you. I love you, my Sparhawk, and I am torn between wishing that I were a man so that I could share your danger and, if need be, lay down my life for you, and glorying in the fact that I am a woman and can lose myself in your embrace.’ From there Sparhawk’s young queen launched into detailed reminiscence of their wedding night which was far too personal and private to bear repeating.

‘How was the queen’s letter?’ Stragen asked as they were saddling their horses in the courtyard while the emerging dawn laid a dirty stain across the cloudy eastern horizon.

‘Literate,’ Sparhawk replied laconically.

‘That’s an unusual characterization.’

‘Sometimes we lose sight of the real person lying behind the state robes, Stragen. Ehlana’s a queen, right enough, but she’s also an eighteen-year-old girl who seems to have read too many of the wrong books.’

‘I’d hardly have expected such a clinical description from a new bridegroom.’

‘I have a lot on my mind just now.’ Sparhawk pulled the cinch of his saddle tighter. Faran grunted, filled his belly with air and deliberately stepped on his master’s foot. Almost absently, the Pandion kneed his mount in the stomach. ‘Keep your eyes open today, Stragen,’ he advised. ‘Some peculiar things are likely to happen.’

‘Such as what?’

‘I’m not really sure. If everything goes well, we’ll cover a great deal more ground today than usual. Stay with the Domi and his Peloi. They’re an emotional people, and out of the ordinary things sometimes upset them. Just keep assuring them that everything’s under control.’

‘Is it?’

‘I haven’t got the foggiest idea, old boy. I’m trying very hard to be optimistic about it, however.’ Stragen, he felt, sort of had that coming.

The dawn came slowly that morning, since the cloud-cover rolling in from the east had thickened during the night. At the top of the long slope leading up from the northern end of the lead-grey sheet of Lake Randera, Kring and his Peloi joined them. ‘It’s good to be back in Pelosia again, friend Sparhawk,’ Kring said, a good-humoured grin on his scarred face, ‘even in this cluttered and over-ploughed part of the kingdom.’

‘How many days to the Zemoch border, Domi?’ Tynian asked.

‘Five or six, friend Tynian,’ the Domi replied.

‘We’ll start out in just a few moments,’ Sparhawk told his friends. ‘There’s something Sephrenia and I have to do.’ He motioned to his tutor and they rode some distance away from the group sitting their horses on the grassy hilltop. ‘Well?’ he said to her.

‘Must you really do this, dear one?’ she pleaded.

‘I think so, yes. It’s the only way I can think of to protect you and the others from ambushes when we reach the Zemoch border.’ He reached inside his surcoat, removed the pouch and took off his gauntlets. Once again the Bhelliom felt very cold in his hands, a chill almost like the touch of ice. ‘Blue-Rose!’ he commanded, ‘bring the voice of Ghnomb to me!’

The jewel sullenly warmed in his hands. Then the greenish-yellow spot appeared within its depths, accompanied by the rotten-meat taste in Sparhawk’s mouth. ‘Ghnomb!’ he said, ‘I am Sparhawk-from-Elenia, and I have the rings. I hunt now. Ghnomb will aid my hunting as I commanded. Ghnomb will do it! Now!’