Domes of Fire by David Eddings

‘Komier sent word to Ulath. It seems that the Trolls have all left

Thalesia.’

‘The Trolls!’ she exclaimed. ‘They wouldn’t do that! Thalesia’s their

ancestral home.’

‘Maybe you’d better go tell the Trolls about that. Komier swears that

there’s not a single one of them left in Thalesia.’

‘Something very, very strange is going on here, Sparhawk.’

‘Ambassador Oscagne said more or less the same thing. Can the Styrics

there at Sarsos make any sense out of it yet?’

‘No. Zalasta’s at his wits’ end.’

‘Have you come up with any idea at all of who’s behind it?’

‘Sparhawk, we don’t even know what’s behind it. We can’t even make a guess

about the species of whatever it is.’

‘We sort of keep coming back to the idea that it’s the Troll-Gods again.

Something had to have enough authority over the Trolls to command them to

leave Thalesia, and that points directly at the Troll Gods. Are we

absolutely sure that they haven’t managed to get loose?’

‘It’s not a good idea to discount any possibility when you’re dealing with

Gods, Sparhawk. I don’t know the spell Ghwerig used when he put them inside

the Bhelliom, so I don’t know if it can be broken.’

‘Then it is possible.’

That’s what I just said, dear one. Have you seen that shadow – or the cloud

– lately?’

‘No.’

‘Has Aphrael ever seen it?’

‘No.’

‘She could tell you, but I’d rather not have her exposed to whatever it

is. Perhaps we can come up with a way to lure it out when you get here so

that I can take a look at it. When are you leaving?’

‘First thing tomorrow morning. Danae sort of told me that she can play

with time the way she did when we were marching to Acie with Wargun’s army.

That would get us there faster, but can she do it as undetectably now as

she did when she was Flute?’ The beL behind the motionless form of his

daughter gave a deep, soft-toned sound. ‘Why don’t you ask me, Sparhawk?’

Danae’s voice hummed in the bell-sound. ‘it’s not as if I weren’t here, you

know.’

‘How was I supposed to know that?’ He waited. well?’ he asked the

still-humming bell. ‘Can you?’

‘well, of course I can, Sparhawk.’ The Child Goddess sounded irritated.

‘Don’t you know anything?’ That will do,’ Sephrenia chided. ‘He’s such a

lump.’

‘Aphrael. I said that will do. you will not be disrespectful to your

father.’ A faint smile touched the lips of the apparently somnolent little

princess. ‘Even if he is a hopeless lump.’

‘If you two want to discuss my failings, I’ll go back downstairs so you can

speak freely,’ Sparhawk told them.

‘No, that’s all right, Sparhawk,’ Aphrael said lightly. ‘we’re all

friends, so we shouldn’t have any secrets from each other.’

They left Chyrellos the following morning and rode south on the Arcian side

of the Sarin river in bright morning sunshine with one hundred Church

Knights in full armour riding escort. The grass along the riverbank was

very green, and the blue sky was dotted with fluffy white clouds. After

some discussion, Sparhawk and Ehlana had decided that the attendants she

would need for the sake of appearances could be drawn for the most part

from the ranks of the Church Knights. ‘Stragen can coach them,’ Sparhawk

had told his wife. ‘He’s had a certain amount of experience, so he can make

honest knights look like useless butterflies.’ It had been necessary,

however, to include one ladyin-waiting, Baroness Melidere, a young woman of

Ehlana’s own age with honey-blonde hair, deep blue eyes and an apparently

empty head. Ehlana also took along a personal maid, a doe-eyed girl named

Alcan. The two of them rode in the carriage with the Queen, Mirtai, Danae

and Stragen, who, dressed in his elegant best, kept them amused with light

banter. Sparhawk reasoned that between them, Stragen and Mirtai could

provide his wife and daughter with a fairly significant defence if the

occasion arose. Patriarch Emban was going to be a problem. Sparhawk could

see that after they had gone no more than a few miles. Emban was not

comfortable on a horse, and he filled the air with complaints as he rode.

‘That isn’t going to work, you know,’ Kalten observed about mid-morning.

‘Churchman or not, if the knights have to listen to Emban feel sorry for

himself all the way across the Daresian continent, he’s likely to have some

kind of an accident before we get to Matherion. I’m ready to drown him

right now myself, and the river’s very handy.’ Sparhawk thought about it.

He looked at the queen’s carriage. ‘That landau’s not quite big enough,’ he

told his friend. ‘I think we need something grander. Six horses are more

impressive than four anyway. See if you can find Bevier.’

When the olive-skinned Arcian rode forward, Sparhawk explained the

situation. ‘if we don’t get Emban off that horse, it’s going to take us a

year to cross daresia. Are you still on speaking terms with your cousin

Lycien?’

‘Of course. We’re the best of friends.’

‘why don’t you ride on ahead and have a chat with him? We need a large

carriage – roomy enough for eight with six horses probably. We’ll put Emban

and Ambassador Oscagne in the carriage with my wife and her entourage. Ask

your cousin to locate one for us.’

‘That might be expensive, Sparhawk,’ Bevier said dubiously. That’s all

right, Bevier. The Church will pay for it. After a week on horseback, Emban

should be willing to sign for anything that doesn’t wear a saddle. Oh, as

long as you’re going there anyway, have our ships moved upriver to Lycien’s

docks. Madel’s not so attractive a city that any of us would enjoy a stay

there all that much, and Lycien’s docks are more conveniently arranged.’

‘Do we need anything else, Sparhawk?’ Bevier asked. ‘Not that I can think

of. Feel free to improvise, ‘though. Add anything you can think of on your

way to Madel. ‘For once, we have a more or less unlimited budget at our

disposal. The coffers of the Church are wide open to us.’

‘I wouldn’t tell that to Stragen or Talen, my friend,’ Bevier laughed.

‘i’ll be at Lycien’s house. I’ll see you when you get there.’ He wheeled

his horse and rode south at a gallop. ‘Why didn’t you just have him pick up

another carriage for Emban and Oscagne?’ Kalten asked. ‘Because I don’t

want to have to defend two when we get to Tamuli.’

‘Oh. That makes sense – sort of.’ They arrived at the house of Sir

Bevier’s cousin the Marquis Lycien, late one afternoon, and met Bevier and

his stout, florid-faced kinsman in the gravelled court in front of Lycien’s

opulent home. The Marquis bowed deeply to the Queen of Elenia and insisted

that she accept his hospitality during her stay in Madel. Kalten dispersed

the knights in Lycien’s park-like grounds. ‘Did you find a carriage?’

Sparhawk asked Bevier. Bevier nodded. ‘It’s large enough for our purposes,’

he said a bit dubiously, ‘but the cost of it may turn Patriarch Emban’s

hair white.’

‘I wouldn’t be too sure,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Let’s ask him.’ They crossed the

gravelled court to where the Patriarch of Ucera stood beside his horse,

clinging to his saddle-horn with a look of profound misery on his face.

‘Pleasant little ride, wasn’t it, your Grace?’ Sparhawk asked the fat man

brightly. Emban groaned. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for

a week.’

‘Of course we were only strolling,’ Sparhawk continued. ‘We’ll have to

move along much faster when we get to Tamuli.’ He paused. ‘May I speak

frankly, your Grace?’

‘You will anyway, Sparhawk,’ Emban said sourly. ‘Would you really pay any

attention to me if I objected?’

‘Probably not. You’re slowing us down, you know.’

‘Well, excuse me.’

‘You’re not really built for horseback riding, Patriarch Emban. Your

talent’s in your head, not your backside. Emban’s eyes narrowed with

hostility. ‘Go on,’ he

said in an ominous tone of voice. ‘Since we’re in a hurry, we’ve decided to

put wheels under you. Would you be more comfortable in a cushioned

carriage; your Grace?’

‘Sparhawk, I could kiss you!’

‘i’m a married man, your Grace. My’ wife might misunderstand. For security

reasons, one carriage is far better than two, so I’ve taken the liberty of

locating one that’s somewhat larger than the one Ehlana rode down from

Chyrellos. You wouldn’t mind riding with her, would you? We thought we’d

put you and Ambassador Oscagne in the carriage with my queen and her

attendants. Would that be satisfactory?’

‘Did you want me to kiss the ground you’re standing on, Sparhawk?’

‘Oh, that won’t be necessary, your Grace. All you really have to do is

sign the authorisation for the carriage. This is urgent Church business,

after all, so the purchase of the carriage is fully justified, wouldn’t you

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