‘Sparhawk,’ Ehlana reproached her husband, ‘that’s cruel.’

‘He’s just trying to be funny, Vanion,’ Kalten said sourly. ‘Sometimes his humour’s as twisted as his nose. Actually he’s the one who’s in charge.’

‘Thank God!’ Vanion said fervently.

‘Dolmant’s been trying to persuade him to accept a permanent appointment, but our friend here keeps begging off – some nonsense about having too many jobs already.’

‘If you people spread me any thinner, you’ll be able to see daylight through me,’ Sparhawk complained.

Ehlana had been looking with a certain awe at Flute, who, as she usually did, sat on the tree limb with her grass-stained feet crossed at the ankles and her pipes to her lips. ‘She looks exactly the way she did in that dream,’ she murmured to Sparhawk.

‘She never changes,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘Well, not too much, anyway.’

‘Are we permitted to talk to her?’ The young queen’s eyes were actually a little frightened.

‘Why are you standing over there whispering, Ehlana?’ Flute asked.

‘How do I address her?’ the queen nervously asked her husband.

He shrugged. ‘We call her Flute. Her other name’s a little formal.’

‘Help me down, Ulath,’ the little girl commanded.

‘Yes, Flute,’ the big Thalesian replied automatically. He went to the tree and lifted the small divinity down and set her feet on the winter-browned grass.

Flute took outrageous advantage of the fact that as Danae she already knew Stragen, Platime and Mirtai in addition to her mother. She spoke with them all quite familiarly, which noticeably added to their sense of awe. Mirtai in particular seemed quite shaken. ‘Well, Ehlana,’ the little girl said finally, ‘are we going to just stand here and stare at each other? Aren’t you even going to thank me for the splendid husband I provided for you?’

‘You’re cheating, Aphrael,’ Sephrenia scolded her.

‘I know, dear sister, but it’s so much fun.’

Ehlana laughed helplessly and held out her arms. Flute crowed with delight and ran to her.

Flute and Sephrenia joined Ehlana, Mirtai and Platime in the carriage. Just before they set out, however, the little Goddess thrust her head out of the window. ‘Talen,’ she called sweetly.

‘What?’ Talen’s tone was wary. Sparhawk rather suspected that Talen might just have had one of those chilling premonitions which beset young men and deer in almost the same way when they sense that they are being hunted.

‘Why don’t you join us here in the carriage?’ Aphrael suggested in honeyed tones.

Talen looked a bit apprehensively at Sparhawk.

‘Go ahead,’ Sparhawk told him. Talen was his friend, certainly – but Danae was his daughter, after all.

They rode on then. After several miles, Sparhawk began to have a vague sense of unease. Although he had been travelling the road between Demos and Cimmura since he had been a young man, it suddenly began to look strange to him. There were hills in places where there should not have been hills, and they passed a large, prosperous-looking farmstead Sparhawk had never seen before. He began to check his map.

‘What’s the matter?’ Kalten asked him.

‘Is there any way we could have made a wrong turn? I’ve been travelling this road back and forth for over twenty years now, and suddenly the usual landmarks aren’t there any more.’

‘Oh, that’s fine, Sparhawk,’ Kalten said sarcastically. He turned and looked back over his shoulder at the others. ‘Our glorious leader here has managed to get us lost,’ he announced. ‘We blindly followed him half-way across the world, and now he manages to lose his way not five leagues from home. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m beginning to experience a severe erosion of confidence here.’

‘Do you want to do this?’ Sparhawk asked him flatly.

‘And lose this opportunity to sit back and carp and criticize? Don’t be silly.’

They were obviously not going to reach any recognizable destination before dark, and they had not come prepared for camping out in the open. Sparhawk began to grow alarmed.

Flute thrust her head out of one of the windows of the carriage. ‘What’s the matter, Sparhawk?’ she asked.

‘We’re going to have to find some place to stay the night,’ he told her, ‘and we haven’t passed any kind of house for the last ten miles.’

‘Just keep going, Sparhawk,’ she instructed.

‘It’s going to start getting dark before long, Flute.’

‘Then we’d better hurry, hadn’t we?’ She disappeared back inside the carriage.

They reached a hilltop just at dusk and looked out over a valley that absolutely could not have been where it was. The land below was grassy and gently rolling, dotted here and there with copses of white-trunked birch trees. About half-way down the hill was a low, sprawling, thatch-roofed house with golden candlelight streaming from its windows.

‘Maybe they’ll put us up for the night,’ Stragen suggested.

‘Hurry right along now, gentlemen,’ Flute instructed from the carriage. ‘Supper’s waiting, and we don’t want it to get cold.’

‘She enjoys doing that to people, doesn’t she?’ Stragen said.

‘Oh, yes,’ Sparhawk agreed, ‘probably more than anything else she gets to do.’

Had it been somewhat smaller, the house might have been called a cottage. The rooms, however, were large and there were many of them. The furnishings were rustic but well made, there were candles everywhere, and each scrupulously-clean fireplace had a cheery fire dancing on the grate. There was a long table in the central room and it was set with what could only be called a banquet. There was not a single soul in the house, however.

‘Do you like it?’ Flute asked them with an anxious expression.

‘It’s lovely,’ Ehlana exclaimed, impulsively embracing the little girl.

‘I’m awfully sorry,’ Flute apologized, ‘but I just couldn’t bring myself to offer you ham. I know you Elenes all love it, but –’ She shuddered.

‘I think we can make do with what’s here, Flute,’ Kalten said, surveying the table with his eyes alight, ‘don’t you, Platime?’

The fat thief was looking almost reverently at all the food. ‘Oh, my goodness yes, Kalten,’ he agreed enthusiastically. ‘This’ll be just fine.’