he told them, ‘but the Cynesgans have a reputation for carrying
that to extremes. They’ll negotiate the suitable bribe for days on
end.’
‘That’s what axes are for, Lord Vanion,’ Ulath rumbled. ‘We
use them to clear away inconveniences – underbrush, trees,
obstructionist officials, that sort of thing.’
‘We don’t need an international incident, Sir Ulath,’ Vanion
told him. ‘We might be able to speed things up a bit, though.
I’ve got an imperial pass signed by Sarabian himself. It might
carry enough weight to get us past the border without too much delay.’
The border between Edam and Cynesga was marked by
the Pela River, and at the far end of the substantial bridge
there stood a solid, block-like building with a horse corral behind
it.
Vanion led them across the bridge to the barricade on the
Cynesgan side, where a number of armed men in strange flowing
robes waited.
The imperial pass Vanion presented to the border guards not
only failed to gain them immediate passage, but even added
further complications. ‘How do I know that this is really his
Majesty’s signature?’ the Cynesgan captain demanded suspiciously
in heavily accented Tamul. He was a swarthy man in
a loose-fitting black and white striped robe and with a long cloth
wound intricately around his head.
‘What’s much more to the point, neighbor, is how do you
know that it isn’t?’ Sparhawk asked bluntly in the Tamul tongue.
‘The Atans take a very unpleasant stance toward people who
disobey the Emperor’s direct commands.’
“it means death to forge the Emperor’s signature,’ the captain
said ominously.
‘So I’ve been told,’ Vanion replied. “it also means death to
ignore his orders. I’d say that one of us is in trouble.’
‘My men still have to search your packs for contraband,’ the
captain said haughtily. “I will consider this while they carry out
their orders.’
‘Do that,’ Sparhawk told him in a flat, unfriendly tone of voice,
‘and keep in mind the fact that a wrong decision here could
have a negative impact on your career.’
“I didn’t catch your meaning.’
‘A man with no head seldom gets promoted.’
“I have nothing to fear,’ the captain declared. “I am strictly
following the orders of my government.’
‘And the Atans who’ll chop off your head will be strictly following
the orders of theirs. I’m certain that everyone involved
will take enormous comfort in the fact that all the legal niceties
were observed.’ Sparhawk turned his back on the officious captain,
and he and Vanion walked back to rejoin the others.
‘Well?’ Sephrenia asked them.
‘The Emperor’s voice doesn’t seem to be very loud here in
Cynesga,’ Vanion replied. ‘Our friend in the bathrobe has a
whole book-full of regulations, and he’s going to use every single
one of them to delay us.’
‘Did you try to bribe him?’ Ulath asked.
“I hinted at the fact that I might entertain a suggestion along
those lines.’ Vanion shrugged. ‘He didn’t take the hint, though.”
‘Now that’s unusual,’ Kalten noted. ‘Bribes are always the first
thing on the mind of any official anywhere in the world. That
sort of suggests that he’s trying to hold us here until reinforcements
arrive, doesn’t it?’
‘And they’re probably already on their way,’ Ulath added.
‘Why don’t we take steps?’
‘You’re just guessing, gentlemen,’ Sephrenia chided them.
‘You’re all just itching for the chance to do Elenish things to
those border guards.’
‘Did you want to do Elenish things to people, Ulath?’ Kalten
asked mildly.
“I was suggesting constructive Elenishism before we even got
here.’
‘We’re not contemplating it out of sheer blood-lust, little
mother,’ Vanion told the woman he loved.
‘Oh, really?’
‘The situation’s manageable now, but if a thousand mounted
Cynesgans suddenly ride in from the nearest garrison, it’s going
to get out of hand.’
‘But… ‘
He held up one hand. ‘My decision, Sephrenia – well, Sparhawk’s
, actually, since he’s the Preceptor now.’
‘interim Preceptor,’ Sparhawk corrected.
Vanion did not like to be corrected. ‘Did you want to do this?’
he asked.
‘No. You’re doing just fine, Vanion.’
‘Do you want to be quiet, then? It’s a military decision,
Sephrenia, so we’ll have to ask you – respectfully, of course to
keep your pretty little nose out of it.’
She said a very harsh word in Styric.
“I love you too,’ he told her blandly. ‘All right, gentlemen,
let’s sort of drift on over to our horses. We’ll do some of those
Elenish things Ulath mentioned to the men who are going
through our saddle-bags. Then we’ll run off all those horses in
that corral and be on our way.’
There were a score of border guards under the captain’s command.
Their primary weapon seemed to be the spear, although
they wore a sort of rudimentary armor and scimitars at their
waists.
‘Excuse me a moment, friend,’ Ulath said pleasantly to the
fellow who was rifling his saddle-bags. ‘i’m going to need my
tools for a couple of minutes.’ He reached for the war-axe slung
from his saddle.
‘What for?’ the Cynesgan demanded suspiciously in broken
Tamul.
‘There’s something in my way,’ Ulath smiled. “I want to remove
it.’ He lifted his axe out of its sling, tested the edge with his thumb,
and then brained the border guard with a single stroke.
The fight around the horses was brief and the outcome was
fairly predictable. As a group, border guards are not among the
world’s most highly skilled warriors.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Sparhawk bellowed at
Talen as the boy pulled his rapier out of the body of one of the
Cynesgans.
‘Stragen’s been giving me lessons,’ Talen replied. “I just
wanted to find out if he knew what he was talking about. Watch
your back.’ Sparhawk
spun, knocked aside the spear of a charging border
guard, and cut the man down. He turned back just as Talen
deftly parried the thrust of another, deflecting the curved blade
off to one side. Then the young man lunged smoothly and ran
the surprised fellow through. ‘Neat, wouldn’t you say?’ he
smirked proudly. “Quit showing off – and don’t take so long to recover from
your thrust. You’re exposing yourself with all that posing.’
‘Yes, revered teacher.’
What little question there had been about the outcome of the
skirmish vanished once the knights were in their saddles. Things
ended abruptly when the obnoxious captain, who had been
shrieking, ‘You’re all under arrest!’ broke off suddenly as Sir
Bevier coolly swung his lochaber axe and sent his head flying.
‘Throw down your weapons!’ Ulath roared at the few survivors.
‘surrender or die!’
Two of the guards, however, had reached their horses. They
scrambled up into their saddles and rode off to the east at a
gallop. One stiffened and toppled from his saddle after about
fifty yards, with Berit’s arrow protruding from between his
shoulder-blades. The other rode on some distance, flogging desperately
at his mount. Then he too lurched and fell to the musical
twang of Khalad’s crossbow.
‘Good shot,’ Berit noted.
‘Fair,’ Khalad agreed modestly.”
The rest of the Cynesgans were throwing their weapons away.
‘You run a good fight, Sparhawk,’ Vanion complimented his
friend.
“I had a good teacher. Kalten, tie them all up and then run
off their horses.’
‘Why me?’
‘You’re handy, and there’s that other matter as well.”
“I didn’t break my oath,’ Kalten protested.
‘No, but you were thinking about it.’
‘What’s this?’ Vanion asked.
‘There’s a lady involved, my Lord,’ Sparhawk replied loftily,
‘and no gentleman ever discusses things like that.’
‘What are you doing?’ Aphrael asked sharply. She had raised her
head from Sephrenia’s shoulder and was looking suspiciously at
Sparhawk.
‘Are you with us again?’ he asked her.
‘Obviously. What are you doing?’
‘There was some unpleasantness at the border, and we’re
probably being followed – chased, actually.’
“I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I, father?’
“it was more or less unavoidable. Have you finished with
whatever it was you were doing?’
‘For the time being.’
‘The town of Edek is just ahead, and we’ve probably got a
brigade of Cynesgan soldiers right behind us. Do you suppose
you could move us on ahead a ways?’
‘Why didn’t you do it yourself? You know how it’s done.’
‘Sephrenia wouldn’t let me.’
‘His attention wanders at critical moments,’ Sephrenia
explained. “I didn’t want him to put us down on the moon.’
“I see your point,’ the little girl agreed. ‘Why don’t we just
move straight on to Cynestra, Sparhawk? There’s nothing
between here and there but open desert, you know.’
‘They were expecting us at the border,’ he replied. “it seems
that our friend out there has alerted everybody along the way
that we’re coming. There’s certain to be a large garrison of troops
at Cynestra, and I’d like to feel my way through the situation
there before I blunder into something.”
“I guess that makes sense – sort of.’
‘How’s your mother?’
“She’s enjoying herself enormously. The political situation in