Kalten added. ‘Ulath, you’re brilliant.’
‘Yes,’ the blond-braided Thalesian agreed with becoming
modesty, “I know.’
“I like it,’ Vanion approved. ‘What do you think, Sephrenia?’
“It would give Sparhawk and Bhelliom the chance to get to
know each other,’ she agreed, ‘and that’s basically what we need
here. The better they know each other, the better they’ll be able
to work together. I’m sorry, Sir Ulath. Blurt out conclusions
anytime you feel like it.’
‘All right then,’ Vanion said in his most business-like fashion,
‘when Sparhawk’s off on one of his little excursions, the rest of
us will be sort of invisible – well, not really invisible, but if
Bhelliom’s not with us, our friend won’t be able to hear us or
feel us, will he?’
‘Probably not,’ Flute agreed. ‘Even if he could, Sparhawk will
be making so much noise that he won’t really pay much attention
to you.’
‘Good. Let’s say that we set out from here. Sparhawk hops up
to Darsas and rattles all the windows there. Then he hops back,
picks us up and puts down in…’ He frowned at his map. ‘in
Cyton on the Cynesgan border.’ He stabbed his finger down on
the chart. ‘Then he hops around to several other places, leaving
Bhelliom and the rings out in the open so that our friend knows
where he is each time. Then he rejoins us at Cyton and boxes
up Bhelliom again. By that time our friend will be so confused
he won’t know where we are.’
‘Pay close attention, Sparhawk,’ Kalten grinned. ‘That’s the
way a preceptor’s supposed to think.’
Sparhawk grunted. Then he thought of something. “I want to
talk with you for a moment when we leave,’ he told his blond
friend quietly.
‘Am I in trouble?’
‘Not yet, but you’re working on it.”
The slatternly serving-girl brought in their meal, glowering at
Vanion as she did, and Sparhawk and his friends began to eat.
They did not linger after lunch, but rose immediately and
trooped out.
‘What’s your problem?’ Kalten asked as he and SParhawk
trailed along behind the others.
‘Quit trying to get yourself killed.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Don’t be coy, Kalten. I saw what you were doing this morning.
Don’t you realize how transparent you are to people who
know you?’
‘You’re unwholesomely clever, Sparhawk,’ the blond Pandion
accused.
“It’s a character defect of mine. I’ve got enough to worry about
already. Don’t add this to it.’
“It’s such a perfect solution.’
‘For a non-existent problem, you jackass. Alcan’s had her eyes
on you ever since we left Chyrellos. She’s not going to throw
all that effort away. It’s you she’s after, Kalten, not Berit. If you
don’t stop this nonsense, I’ll take you back to Demos and have
you confined in the mother-house.’
‘How do you propose to do that?’
‘i’ve got this blue friend here, remember?’ Sparhawk patted
the bulge in the front of his tunic. “I can pick you up by the hair,
deposit you in Demos and be back before Vanion even gets into
his saddle.’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘Now you’re starting to sound like Talen. I’m not Trying to be fair.
I’m trying to keep you from killing yourself. I want your oath.’
‘No.’
‘Demos is nice this time of year. You’ll enjoy it. You can spend
your days in prayer.’
Kalten swore at him.
‘You’ve got some of the words right, Kalten. Now just put
them together into a proper oath. Believe me, my friend, you’re
not going to go one step farther with us until you give me your
oath to stop all this nonsense.’
“I swear,’ Kalten muttered.
‘Not good enough. Let’s make it nice and formal. I want it to
make an impression on you. You’ve got this tendency to overlook
things if they aren’t all spelled out.’
‘Do you want me to sign something in my own blood?’ Kalten
demanded acidly.
“It’s a thought, but I don’t have any parchment handy. I’ll
accept your verbal oath – for the time being. I may change my
mind later, though, so keep your veins nice and loose and your
dagger sharp.’
‘Sparhawk?’ Ambassador Fontan exclaimed. ‘What are you doing
in Darsas?” The ancient Tamul diplomat stared at the big Pandion
in astonishment.
“Just passing through, your Excellency,’ Sparhawk replied.
‘May I come in?’
‘By all means, my boy.’ Fontan opened his door wide and
Sparhawk and Flute entered the crimson-carpeted study of the
Tamul Embassy.
‘You’re looking well, your Royal Highness,’ Fontan smiled at
the little girl. Then he looked at her more closely. ‘i’m sorry,’
he apologized to her. “I mistook you for Prince Sparhawk’s
daughter. You resemble her very much.’
‘We’re distantly related, your Excellency,’ Flute told him without
turning a hair.
‘Has word reached you about what happened in Matherion a
few weeks ago, your Excellency?’ Sparhawk asked, tucking the
Bhelliom back into his inside tunic pocket.
‘Just yesterday,’ Fontan replied. ‘is the Emperor safe?’
Sparhawk nodded. ‘My wife’s looking after him. Our time’s
limited, your Excellency, so I’m not going to be able to explain
everything. Are you cosmopolitan enough to accept the notion
that the Styrics have some very unusual capabilities?’
Fontan smiled faintly. ‘Prince Sparhawk, a man my age is
willing to accept almost anything. After the initial shock of astonishment
that comes each morning when I wake up and discover
that I’m still alive, I can face the day with an open mind.’
‘Good. My friends and I left Korvan down in Edam about an
hour ago. They’re riding on toward Cyton on the border, but I
came here to have a word with you.’
‘An hour ago?’
‘Just take it on faith, your Excellency,’ Flute told him. “It’s one
of those Styric things Sparhawk was talking about.’
‘i’m not certain how much your messenger told you,’ Sparhawk
continued, ‘but it’s urgent that all of the Atan garrison
commanders in the empire know that the Ministry of the
Interior’s not to be trusted. Minister Kolata’s working for the
other side.’
“I never liked that man,’ Fontan said. he gave Sparhawk a
speculative look. ‘This message is hardly so earth-shaking that
it would move you to violate a whole cluster of natural laws,
Sparhawk. What are you really doing in Darsas?’
‘Casting false trails, your Excellency. Our enemies have ways
of detecting my presence, so I’m going to give them a presence
to detect in various towns in assorted corners of the Empire in
order to confuse them a bit. My friends and I are returning
overland from Korvan to Matherion, and we’d prefer not to be
ambushed along the way. This isn’t a confidential visit,
Ambassador Fontan. Feel free to let people know that I stopped
by. They’ll probably know already, but let’s confirm it for them.’
“I like your style, Sparhawk. You’ll be crossing Cynesga?’
Sparhawk nodded.
“It’s an unpleasant country.’
‘These are unpleasant times. Oh, it won’t really hurt if you’re
sort of smug when you tell people that you’ve seen me. Our
side was definitely behind up until now. That changed a few
days ago. Our enemy, whoever he is, is at a distinct disadvantage
right now, and I’d sort of like to grind his face in that fact
for a while.’
‘i’ll get word to the town crier immediately.’ The ancient man
squinted up at the ceiling. ‘How long can you stay?’
‘An hour at the very most.’
‘Plenty of time, then. Why don’t we step over to the palace?
I’ll take you into the throne-room, and you can pay your respects
to the king – in front of his entire court. That’s the best way I
know of to let people know you’ve been here.’
“I like your style, your Excellency,’ Sparhawk grinned.
It grew easier each time. At first, Bhelliom seemed impossibly
dense, and Flute frequently had to step in, speaking in that
language which Sparhawk strongly suspected was the original
language of the Gods themselves. Gradually, the stone seemed to
grasp what was wanted of it. Its compliance was never fully
willing, however. It had to be compelled. Sparhawk found that
visualizing Vanion’s map helped quite a bit. Once Bhelliom
grasped the fact that the map was no more than a picture of the
world, it grew easier for Sparhawk to tell the jewel where he
wanted to go.
This is not to say that there weren’t a few false starts. Once,
when he had been concentrating on the town of Delo on the
east coast, the thought crossed his mind that there was a certain
remote similarity between that name and the name of the town
of Demos in east-central Elenia, and after the momentary gray
blur where the world around him shifted and changed, he found
himself and Flute riding Faran in bright moonlight up the lane
that led to Kurik’s farm.
‘What are you doing?’ Flute demanded.
‘My attention wandered. Sorry.’
‘Keep your mind on your work. Bhelliom’s responding to
what you’re thinking, not what you’re saying. It probably