CHAPTER 19

Kring arrived in Sama late in the afternoon of the same day in which Aphrael had transported Sephrenia and the others there from Dirgis. Mirtai calmly went down into the courtyard of the Atan garrison to meet her bandy-legged betrothed. The two of them embraced rather formally and then came into the building.

‘She seems very restrained,’ Vanion observed quietly to Betuana as the two watched from the window of the conference room.

‘It is not seemly to openly display affection in public, Vanion-Preceptor,’ the Queen replied. ‘Decorum must be maintained, even though the heart might prefer it otherwise.’

‘Ah Ho; friend Vanion!’ Kring said as he and his tall beloved entered. ‘You’re just the man I was looking for.’

‘It’s good to see you, too, friend Kring. How are things going in Samar?’

‘It’s quiet. The Cynesgans have pulled back from the border. Is there something going on to the south that I haven’t been told about?’

‘Not that I know of. Why do you ask?’

‘The Cynesgans were massing just across the border, and we were expecting them to come across to lay siege to Samar almost any time. Then several days ago they pulled back and left only a few units in place.

The rest of their army marched south.’

‘Why would they do that?’ Vanion asked, frowning.

‘Probably to meet the Church Knights,’ Aphrael replied.

Vanion turned to see the Child Goddess calmly sitting in her usual place on Sephrenia’s lap. She had not

been there a moment before. There was no point to making an issue of it. Aphrael would never change.

‘The Church Knights aren’t coming from that direction, Divine One,’ he said.

‘We know that, Vanion,’ she replied, ‘but Stragen and Talen have been busy in Beresa. They’ve managed to convince the Dacite spy that there’s a huge fleet of ships flying Church flags knocking about in the Gulf of Daconia. Evidently the Dacite passed the word on, and the Cynesgan High Command took it seriously enough to send their main force south to defend southern Cynesga.’

‘But they know that the Church Knights are coming overland through Astel.’

‘They know about that force, Lord Vanion,’ Itagne said, ‘but they must have been convinced that there’s another coming by sea.’

‘There aren’t that many of us, Itagne.’

‘You and I know that, Lord Vanion, but it’s generally believed here in Tamuli that there are at least a million of you fellows. The term “Church Knights” conjures up visions of armies stretching from horizon to horizon.’

Vanion frowned. ‘Oh,’ he said finally. ‘I think I understand. During the Zemoch wars, we joined forces with the armies of the kings of Eosia. The Tamul observers must have thought that everyone in armor was a Church Knight.’

‘I think I’ll have a talk with the Emperor,’ Itagne mused. ‘Titles of nobility might be in order for your pair of thieves. this imaginary fleet of theirs seems to have pulled half the Cynesgan army off the border and most likely pinned down the Arjunis as well.’

‘It’s a great little fleet,’ Vanion grinned, ‘and you don’t even have to feed the sailors. Let’s keep the stories alive.’ He looked at Aphrael. ‘Could you arrange some illusions, Divine One?’

‘Dragons? Flights of angels?’

‘How about a thousand ships hull-down on the horizon instead?’

‘What do I get in return?’

‘Stop teasing,’ Sephrenia told her with a gentle smile.

‘Where would you like your make-believe boats, Vanion?’

He thought about it. ‘Why don’t you just bounce them up and down the coastline of Daconia and western Arjuna?’ he suggested. ‘Let’s run the Cynesgans and Arjunis ragged trying to position themselves to defend against landings.’

‘I’ll go take care of it right now,’ she said, slipping down from her sister’s lap, ‘before I forget.’

‘When did you ever forget anything?’ Sephrenia smiled.

‘I don’t know. I must have at some time, though. I’ve probably forgotten exactly when.’ She gave them all an impish little smile, and then she vanished.

Kring was sitting at Mirtai’s side, and he had been squinting speculatively at the ceiling, absently running one hand over his stubbled scalp. He was not free to use the other, since Mirtai had taken possession of it. Her contented, almost placid, expression clearly said that she did not intend to release his hand in the foreseeable future.

‘If Divine Aphrael can keep those Cynesgan troops more or less permanently distracted, Tikume and I’ll be able to hold Samar without any help,’ the Domi said, ‘particularly now that we know how to deal with Klael’s soldiers.’ He rubbed even more briskly at his scalp.

‘Quit worrying at it,’ Mirtai told him. ‘I’ll shave you just as soon as we finish here.’

‘Yes, love,’ he agreed immediately.

‘Oh, that reminds me,’ Vanion said. ‘Sparhawk had a talk with Bhelliom. Klael’s soldiers can only breathe our air for about

[ cannot read ]

Kring nodded.

A tall Atan came in and murmured something to Itagne.

‘I’m really awfully busy right now, old boy,’ Itagne objected.

‘He’s most insistent, Itagne-Ambassador.’

‘Oh, very well.’ Itagne rose to his feet. ‘I’ll be right back, Lord Vanion,’ he said and followed the Atan from the room.

‘Did Sparhawk find out what country Klael’s soldiers come from, friend Vanion?’ Kring asked. ‘I’d sort of like to avoid that country.’

‘I don’t think you need to worry, Domi Kring.’ Sephrenia said. ‘Klael’s soldiers were brought here from someplace beyond the stars.’

Kring frowned. ‘You might want to have a talk with Sparhawk, friend Vanion,’ he said. ‘I enjoy a good fight as much as the next man, but if he’s going to declare war on the whole universe, he ought to let the rest of us in on his plans.’

‘I’ll definitely speak with him about it, Domi Kring,’ Vanion said. Then he sighed. ‘I wish we’d known more about Klael’s soldiers earlier. The Church Knights encountered them in the mountains of Zemoch and lost half their number in killed and wounded.’

‘I’m sorry, friend Vanion. Did you lose many old comrades?’

‘Many, Domi Kring,’ Vanion replied sadly, ‘many.’

‘How’s friend Engessa coming along?’ Kring asked Betuana.

‘Aphrael says that he’s recovering, Domi,’ she replied. ‘I’d like to see that for myself, though.’

Itagne returned, accompanied by a Tamul wearing slightly out-of-date clothing. ‘Would you please see to it that we’re not disturbed?’ he said to the Atan guard in the hall. Then he closed and bolted the door. ‘I have some good news for a change,’ he said then. He put his hand on the stranger’s shoulder.

‘This is my very dear - though newfound friend, Ekrasios,’ he said.

Betuana frowned. ‘That is not a Tamul name,’ she said.

‘No, your Majesty,’ Itagne agreed, ‘It’s not. Actually, it’s Delphaeic. The Delphae are such a musical people. It probably derives from the fact that they still speak classical Tamul. My friend here just stopped by to advise us that the Delphae have decided to come out of their splendid seclusion. Ekrasios, this is Preceptor Vanion, the close friend of Anakha. The regal lady is Betuana, Queen of the Atans. The short fellow is Domi Kring of the western Peloi. The tall, pretty girl with the death-grip on his hand is Mirtai, his betrothed, and the exquisite Styric lady is Sephrenia, High Priestess of the Goddess Aphrael.’

‘Nobles all,’ Ekrasios greeted them with a formal bow. ‘I bring from Beloved Edaemus. Divine Aphrael hath persuaded him that we have common cause in the current situation, and he hath thus relaxed his centuries-old prohibition upon us. I am sent to thee, Lord Vanion, to advise thee that I and diverse companions are at thine immediate disposal. Where might we best be deployed to further our cause?’

‘If I may, Lord Vanion?’ Itagne interposed. ‘It just occurred to me that the Delphae might be best suited to empty those ruins in the Arjuni jungles. If Ekrasios and his friends were to appear in all their glowing splendor at the gates of Scarpa’s down there, the rebels would probably go back home and peaceful pursuits, just as fast as they possibly could.’

‘Well said,’ Mirtai murmured her agreement.

‘He certainly moves around, doesn’t he?’ Ulath said to Tynian as the beer wagon with Sparhawk and Kalten perched atop the balms rumbled past on the ancient street.

‘Last I heard, he was in Dirgis.’ The natcherl rules don’t seem t’ apply t’ ol’ Sporhawk,’ Tynian replied in a bad imitation of Caalador’s dialect. ‘What do you think? Should we slip back into real time? Or should we stay where we are?’

‘I think we’ll be more useful if we stay out of sight,’ Ulath replied.

‘That’s fine with me, but how are we going to get word to Sparhawk and the others that we’re here?’

‘I’ll slip a note in his pocket - or blow in his ear. That ought to get his attention.’

Bllokw came shambling back up the street with a mournful expression on his ape-like face. ‘There are no

dogs here,’ he reported in Trollish.

‘Soldiers don’t usually keep dogs, Bhlokw,’ Tynian explained.

‘I have hunger, Tin-in. Would the manthings here miss one of their herd - a small one?’

‘We might have a problem here,’ Tynian muttered to Ulath. ‘It’s definitely in our best interests to keep our friend here well-fed. ’

Ulath scratched at his now clean-shaven cheek. ‘We can’t just turn him loose,’ he noted. ‘He’ll attract attention if he starts stabbing people and jerking them into these broken moments.’

‘He’s invisible, Ulath.’

‘Yes, but if some Arjuni suddenly vanishes and his bones start getting tossed back out of nowhere, it’s bound to attract attention.’ He turned back to the Troll. ‘It is our thought that it would not be good for you to kill and eat the manthings here, Blokw. We hunt thought here, and if you kill and eat the manthings you will frighten the thought away.’

‘I do not like this hunting of thought, U-lat,’ Bhlokw complained. ‘It makes things not-simple.’

‘The forest is near, Bhlokw, ‘ Tynian said.

‘There must be many old things there. ’

‘I am not an Ogre, Tin-in,’ Bhlokw protested in a slightly offended tone. ‘I do not eat trees.’

‘There should be creatures that are good-to-eat among the trees, Bhlokw,’ Ulath said. ‘That is what Tin-in was trying to say. It was not his thought to insult you.’

Bhlokw glowered at Tynian for a moment. ‘I will go hunt now,’ he said abruptly. Then he turned and shambled off.

‘You have to be careful, Tynian,’ Ulath warned his friend. ‘if you want to get into a fight almost immediately, all you have to do is suggest to a Troll that he might be an Ogre.’

‘They’re actually prejudiced?’ Tynian asked in amazement.

‘You wouldn’t believe how prejudiced,’ Ulath replied. ‘Trolls and Ogres have hated each other since the beginning of time.’

‘I thought that prejudice was a human failing.’

‘Some things are just too good to stay private, I guess. Let’s follow Sparhawk and let him know that we’re here. He might have something for us to do.’

They trailed along behind the beer caravan winding through the cleared streets toward that part of Natayos that was still choked in brush and vines. The wagons trundled along a recently cleared street and then went around behind a canvas-roofed building identified by a crudely lettered sign that read ‘Senga’s.’

‘Trust Kalten to get close to the beer,’ Tynian said.

‘Truly,’ Ulath agreed. ‘Wait here. I’ll go let Sparhawk know that we’re in Natayos.’ He walked over to where Sparhawk, Kalten, and Bevier, looking strange with their altered features, stood off to one side while Senga supervised the unloading of the barrels.

‘Ramshorn,’ he said quietly. ‘Don’t get excited and start looking around,’ he added. ‘You won’t be able to see me.’

‘Ulath?’ Kalten asked incredulously.

‘Right. Tynian, Bhlokw and I got here yesterday. We’ve been nosing around.’

‘How have you managed to become invisible?’ the patch-eyed Bevier asked.

‘We aren’t, actually. Ghnomb’s breaking the seconds into two pieces. We’re only present during the smaller piece. That’s why you can’t see us.’

‘But you can see us?’

‘Yes.’

‘Ulath, that’s logically inconsistent.’

‘I know, but Ghnomb believes that it works, and I guess his belief is strong enough to override logic.

Tynian and I are here, and nobody can see us. Is there anything you want us to do?’

‘Can you get into that building near the gate?’ Sparhawk asked quickly. ‘The one with the barred windows?’

‘Not a chance. We already looked into the possibility. Too many guards on the doors. Bhlokw even tried

going in through the roof, but it’s all sealed up.’

‘That’s my wife in there, Ulath!’ Sparhawk exclaimed. ‘Are you saying that you tried to send a Troll into the same building with her?’

‘Bhlokw wouldn’t have hurt her, Sparhawk - frightened her a little, maybe, but he wouldn’t have hurt her.

We sort of thought he might be able to go in through the roof, pick Ehlana and Alcan up, and carry them out.’ Ulath paused. ‘It wasn’t really our idea, Sparhawk. Bhlokw volunteered - well, actually he didn’t even volunteer. He just started climbing up the wall before we could stop him. He said, “I will go get them. I will bring Anakha’s mate and her friend out so that we can kill all these children of Cyrgon and eat them.” Bhlokw’s a little elemental, but his heart’s in the right place. I hate to admit it, but I’m actually starting to like him.’

Kalten looked around nervously. ‘Where is he now?’ he asked.

‘He’s out hunting. When we were knocking around those cities by the lake, we persuaded him not to eat people. We got him started on dogs instead. He really likes them, but there aren’t any dogs here in Natayos, so he’s out in the woods probably chasing elephants or something.’

Then something flickered at the corner of Ulath’s eye. ‘What in God’s name is that?’ he exclaimed.

‘What?’ Kalten asked, looking around in bafflement.

‘There’s somebody made out of rainbows coming around the side of the building!’ Ulath gaped at the clearly defined shape approaching. The many-colored light was dazzling. ‘That’s Xanetia,’ Sparhawk explained. ‘Can you actually see her?’

‘Are you saying that you can’t?’

‘She’s invisible, Ulath.’

‘Not to me, she isn’t.’

‘It must have something to do with the peculiar time you’re in, my friend,’ Bevier suggested. ‘You’d better let her know that you can see her. It might be important some day.’

The shimmering rainbow stopped a few paces away.

‘Anakha,’ Xanetia said softly.

‘I hear thee, Anarae,’ Sparhawk replied.

‘It pains me to tell thee that I have failed,’ she confessed. ‘The mind of Scarpa is so twisted that I cannot wring coherence from his thought. I did gently probe the minds of some of his followers, however, and I must sadly advise thee that thy Queen is no longer here in Natayos. When our enemies did discover the subterfuge involving young Sir Berit, Zalasta did spirit thy wife and her handmaiden away under cover of darkness. I shall endeavor to glean their destination from the thoughts of others here, an it please thee.’

Ulath’s heart twisted with sympathy at the look of sudden despair that came over Sparhawk’s face.

They ran easily in their endless regiments, tall and lightly armored, with their bronze limbs glowing in the cool grey light. The towering King Androl ran smoothly at the front of his army. It was good to be on the move again, and the prospect of battle was exhilarating. Battle was meaningful, and one could actually see results. The absence of his wife had thrust a thousand petty administrative chores on Androl’s unprepared shoulders. It was so frustrating to make decisions about things he didn’t really understand and not to see any immediate results that would have told him whether or not his decisions had been correct.

Once again the King of Atan thanked his God for giving him Betuana for his wife. They made a good team, actually. The Queen was very skilled with details. Her mind was quick, and she could pick out subtleties and nuances that frequently escaped her husband. Androl, on the other hand, was made for action. He gladly let his wife make all the tiresome decisions, and then, when it was all settled and they knew what they were going to do, he took charge of carrying her decisions out. It was better that way, actually. The King of Atan was fully aware of his limitations, and he knew that his wife forgave him when he occasionally overlooked something. He hoped that he didn’t disappoint her too much. Her suggestion

- she never gave him orders - that he take the bulk of their people to the south end of Lake Sama in preparation for a grand battle at Toea was exactly the sort of thing Androl truly loved. Here was action,

simple and uncomplicated. The troublesome decisions had all been made, the enemy had been identified, and all the boring details had been swept out of the way. He smiled as he led his army into the last outcropping of mountains some fifty leagues to the southeast of Tualas. Betuana’s message had hinted that the battle at Toea would be a titanic one, a grand clash at arms with struggling armies stretching for miles and the ring of sword against sword reaching to the skies. He would make her proud of him. The route through the outcropping mountains led up a long ridge-line, through a narrow notch and then down into the deep gorge of a turbulent stream that had gnawed at the rock for eons. King Androl was breathing a bit heavily when he crested the ridge-line and led his forces through the notch. The wasted hours spent conferring with Ambassador Norkan had taken off Androl’s edge. A warrior should never permit himself to be lured away from the practice-field or the exercise yard. He picked up the pace as he led his army down into the narrow gorge, running smoothly along the south bank of the rushing mountain river. If he was out of shape, his soldiers probably were as well. He hoped that he could find a suitable place for an encampment at Lake Sama, a proper encampment with enough space for training and practice and those necessary calisthenics that honed warriors to the peak of fitness. Androl was sublimely confident that any opposing force could be overcome if only his army were fully trained and fit.

‘Androl-King!’ General Pemaas shouted over the sound of the turbulent stream. ‘Look!’

‘Where?’ Androl demanded, half-turning and reaching for his sword.

‘At the top of the gorge - on the right!’

The Atan King craned his neck to peer up the sheer cliff-face to the rocky brink high above. The King of Atan had seen many things in his life, but nothing to compare with the vast, monstrous form rearing suddenly above them on the rim of the gorge. The thing was glossy black, like polished leather, and it had enormously out-spreading wings, jointed and batlike. Its wedge-shaped head was accentuated by blazing eye-slits and a gaping mouth that dripped flame.

King Androl considered it. The problem, of course, was the fact that the towering creature was at the top of the gorge while he stood at the bottom. He could turn and retrace his steps, running back up the gorge to the notch and scrambling around the rocks to reach the rim; but that would give the thing plenty of opportunity to run away, and then he would have to chase it down in order to kill it. In his present less-than-perfect condition, that would be very tedious. He could always climb up the cliff, but that would still take time, and the creature might very well see him coming and try to flee. Then, amazingly, the large being at the top of the gorge provided the solution. It raised its enormous arms and began to slash at the top of the cliff with what appeared to be fire of some kind. Androl smiled as the cliff-face began to topple outward, tumbling and roaring down into the gorge. The silly beast was accommodatingly providing the means for its own destruction. How could it be so stupid? King Androl adroitly dodged a tumbling, house-sized boulder, carefully assessing the rapidly growing slope of rubble piling up at the base of the cliff. The beast actually intended to attack. Androl laughed with delight. The creature was stupid beyond imagining, but he did have to give it credit for courage - foolish courage, of course, but courage nonetheless. All the universe knew that Androl of Atan was invincible, and yet this poor dumb brute meant to pit its puny strength against the greatest warrior since the beginning of time.

Androl looked speculatively at the steep, growing slope of rubble, ignoring the cries of those of his soldiers not nimble enough to avoid being crushed in the avalanche rumbling down upon them. Almost high enough now. Just a few more feet. And then he judged that the steep slope had grown high enough to give him access to the stupid creature roaring and flapping its wings high above. He dodged another boulder and began his rush, scrambling, dodging, leaping, as he swiftly mounted toward the doomed beast above him. When he was almost to the top, he paused, drew his sword, and set himself. And then with a savage war-cry he rushed up the remaining slope, ignoring the momentary flicker of sympathy he felt for the brave, misguided creature he was about to kill.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ a burly Dacite wearing a shabby uniform tunic and holding a long pike demanded as Sparhawk and Kalten pulled the wobbly cart with two large barrels in it around the corner of the building.

‘We’ve got a delivery from Senga for Master Krager,’ Kalten said.

‘Anybody could say that.’

‘Go ask him,’ Kalten suggested.

‘I wouldn’t want to disturb him.’

‘Then you’d better let us past. He’s been waiting for this wine for quite some time now. If you keep us from delivering it, he’ll really be disturbed. He might even be disturbed enough to take the matter to Lord Scarpa.’

The guard’s face grew apprehensive. ‘Wait here,’ he said, then turned and went along the back of the building to the heavy door.

‘I’ll stay in the background when we get inside,’ Sparhawk quietly told his friend. ‘if he asks, just tell him that I’m a strong back you commandeered to help pull the cart.’

Kalten nodded.

‘Are you here, Anarae?’ Sparhawk asked, looking around in spite of the fact that he knew he wouldn’t be able to see her.

‘Right at thy side, Anakha,’ her voice replied softly.

‘We’ll keep him talking for as long as we can. He’ll probably be a little drunk. Will that make it difficult for you?’

‘I have shared the thoughts of this Krager before,’ she told him. ‘He is coherent unless he is far gone with drink. If it be convenient, direct his attention toward the house where thy Queen was late held captive.

That may prod his mind toward thoughts of interest to us.’

‘I’ll see what I can do, Anarae,’ Kalten promised.

The Dacite guard came back. ‘He’ll receive you,’ he announced.

‘Somehow I was almost sure he would,’ Kalten smirked. ‘Master Krager’s very fond of this particular wine.’ He and Sparhawk lifted the shafts of the cart and pulled it along over the rough, littered ground at the back of the semi-restored ruin that appeared to be Scarpa’s main headquarters.

Krager was eagerly waiting in the doorway. His head was shaved, but he still looked much the same. He was dishevelled and unshaven, his nearsighted, watery eyes were bloodshot, and his hands were visibly shaking. ‘Bring it inside,’ he ordered in his familiar, rusty-sounding voice.

Kalten and Sparhawk set the shafts of the cart down, untied the ropes that had held the two barrels in place, and carefully eased one of them out onto the ground. Kalten measured the height of the barrel with a length of the rope and then checked the width of the doorway.

‘Just barely,’ he said. ‘Tip it over,

From. We’ll be able to roll it in.’

Sparhawk heaved the barrel over onto its side, and he and his friend rolled it through the doorway into the cluttered room beyond. There was an unmade bed against one wall, and clothes littered the floor. The place was permeated with the acrid smell of Krager’s unwashed, wine-sodden body, and there was a heap of empty casks and broken earthenware bottles in one corner.

‘Where did you want these, Master Krager?’ Kalten asked.

‘Anyplace,’ Krager said impatiently.

‘That’s not thinking ahead,’ Kalten said critically. ‘They’re too heavy for you to move by yourself. Pick a spot that’ll be convenient.’

‘You might be right.’ Krager squinted around the room. Then he went to a place near the head of the bed and kicked some clothes out of the way. ‘Put them right here,’ he instructed. ‘Ah - before we go any further, why don’t we settle up? These are very expensive, Master Krager.’

‘How much?’

‘Senga told me that he had to have fifty crowns a barrel. Arcian red’s very hard to come by this far away from Arcium.’

‘Fifty crowns?’ Krager exclaimed.

‘Each,’ Kalten insisted. ‘He told me to open the barrels for you, too.’

‘I know how to open a wine barrel, Col.’

‘I’m sure of it, but Senga’s an honest businessman, and he wants me to make sure you’re satisfied before I

take your money.’ He rolled the barrel over against the wall. ‘Help me set it up, From’ he told Sparhawk.

They righted the barrel, and

Kalten took a pry-bar out from under his belt.

‘Beer’s a lot easier,’ he noted. ‘Somebody ought to tell those Arcian’s about the advantages of putting a bung-hole in the side.’

[ cannot read ] carefully pried up the lid as Krager, cup in hand, at his elbow.

‘Master Krager,’ Kalten said then, lifting off the [ cannot read ] aside.

Krager dipped his cup into the deep red liquid, lifted it with a trembling hand, and drank deeply.

‘Marvelous!’ he sighed happily.

[ cannot read ] laughed. ‘You wouldn’t expect it of a highway robber, but I’ll tell Senga that it meets with your approval,’ Kalten said. ‘Senga’s very concerned about satisfying his customers. Would you believe that he even had us pour out a barrel of beer that had gone sour? Come on, From, let’s get the other barrel. We’ll have Master Krager test that one and then we’ll settle accounts.’

The two of them went back outside and manhandled the second barrel out of the cart. ‘Ask him why they’ve taken the guards off the doors of the house where they were holding Ehlana and Alcan,’

Sparhawk murmured.

‘Right.’ Kalten grunted as they lowered the wine barrel to the ground. They put the second barrel beside the first, Kalten pried open the lid, and Krager sampled it.

‘Satisfactory?’ Kalten asked.

‘Just fine,’ Krager said. He dipped out another cup and sank back happily on his bed. ‘Absolutely splendid.’

‘That’ll be a hundred crowns then.’

Krager pulled a heavy purse out from under his belt and negligently tossed it to Kalten.

‘Here,’ he said. ‘Count it out yourself. and don’t steal too much.’

‘This is business, Master Krager,’ Kalten told him. ‘if I was robbing you, I’d have my knife against your throat.’ He swept clothing and a few dried crusts of bread off the top with his forearm, opened the purse, and started counting Money. ‘We noticed that all the guards have been pulled away from the house with the bars on the windows,’ he said. ‘A couple of days ago a man couldn’t get within twenty paces of the place, but this morning From and I wheeled that cart right past the front door and nobody paid any attention to us. Has

Scarpa moved whatever was so valuable out of there?’

Krager’s puffy face became suddenly alert. ‘That’s none of your business, Col.’

‘I didn’t say it was. You might just make a suggestion to Lord Scarpa, though. If he doesn’t want people to notice things like that, he shouldn’t change anything. He should have kept all the guards right where they were. Senga and the rest of us are all robbers, you know, and we all more or less believed that Lord Scarpa was keeping his treasure in that house. The word “treasure” makes men like us prick up our ears.’

Krager stared at him and then he began to laugh.

‘What’s so funny?’ Kalten looked up from his counting.

‘It was a treasure all right, Col,’ Krager smirked, ‘but not the kind you can count.’

‘Like you say, it’s none of my business, but every man who works in Senga’s tavern knows that it’s been moved. I’m sure they’ll all be poking around in these ruins looking for the new storehouse. ’

‘Let them look,’ Krager shrugged. ‘The treasure’s a long, long way from here by now.’

‘I hope you’ve still got guards on it. Those woods out there are crawling with fellows like From and me.

Would you come here and check my count?’

‘I trust you, Col.’

‘You’re a fool, then.’

‘Take another ten crowns for yourself and your man,’ Krager said expansively, ‘and then if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone with my two new friends here.’

‘You’re very generous, Master Krager.’ Kalten took some more coins from the purse, scooped up all the ones he had previously counted out, and dumped them into the side pocket of his smock. ‘Let’s go,

From,’ he said to Sparhawk. ‘Master Krager wants to be alone.’

‘Tell Senga that I’m grateful to him,’ Krager said, dipping out more wine, ‘and tell him to keep his eye out for more of this excellent vintage. I’ll buy all he can find.’

‘I’ll tell him, Master Krager. Enjoy yourself.’ And Kalten led the way out of the reeking room.

Sparhawk closed the door and held out his hand.

‘What?’ Kalten asked.

‘My five crowns, if you don’t mind,’ Sparhawk said firmly.

‘Let’s keep accounts current, shall we?’

‘Thou art shrewd, Sir Kalten,’ Xanetia’s whispered voice came ‘Thou didst most skillfully guide his thought in precisely the direction most useful to us.’ Kalten made some show of counting coins into Sparhawk’s hand.

‘What did you find out, Anarae?’ he asked in a tense whisper.

‘A day or two ago a closed carriage did depart from this place after making some show of stopping -

under heavy guard - at the door to the house upon which all our attention hath been fixed. The carriage, which was but a ploy, is bound for Panem-Doa. Those we seek are not inside, however. They had bug since departed from Natayos with Zalasta.’

‘Did Krager know where Zalasta was taking them?’ Sparhawk asked.

‘It was evidently in Zalasta’s mind that none here should know,’ Xanetia replied, ‘but Krager, ever alert to the main chance, was well aware that news of Zalasta’s destination might well save his life should things go awry, and he did strive most assiduously to learn the Styric’s plans. By feigning drunken steer, he was able to be present when Zalasta did speak with his comrade, Cyzada. The twain spake in Styric, but Krager, unbeknownst to us all, hath a smattering of that tongue, and he was thus able to glean from their hurried conversation the very information which he - and we - are most curious about.’

‘That’s a surprise,’ Kalten muttered. ‘Drunk or sober, Krager’s a shrewd one, all right. Where’s Zalasta taking the ladies, Anarae?’

Xanetia sighed. ‘The information is melancholy, Sir Kalten,’ She told him. ‘I do fear me that it is Zalasta’s intent to take the queen and her handmaiden to the hidden city of Cyrga, where Cyrgon himself doth hold sway, and by his power there can deny us all access to those we love.’