‘Let me just fix that last paragraph,’ Sparhawk pleaded.
‘No.’
“But…’
‘NO!’ Vanion put the letter back in its proper place, folded
the packet, and tucked it inside his doublet. ‘Oscagne’s sending
Norkan along with us,’ he said. ‘We’ll give the letters to him,
and he can sort of dribble them back here to Ehlana. Norkan’s
shrewd enough to space them out just enough to keep her from
getting suspicious. The ship’s been ready for a week now, and
Emban’s getting impatient. We’ll sail with the morning tide.’
“I think I know what I did wrong,’ Sparhawk said. “I can fix
that third letter in no more than an hour or two.’
‘No, Sparhawk. Absolutely not.’
‘Are you sure she’s asleep?’ Sparhawk whispered.
‘Of course I am, father,’ Princess Danae replied.
‘The slightest sound will wake her up, you know. She can
hear a fly walking across the ceiling.’
‘Not tonight she can’t. I’ve seen to that.’
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Danae. She knows every
tiny little mark on that ring. If there’s the slightest difference
between it and this new one, she’ll notice it immediately.’
‘Oh, father, you worry too much. I’ve done this before, after
all. Ghwerig made the rings, and I still fooled him. I’ve been
stealing those rings for thousands of years. Believe me, mother
will never know the difference.’
‘is this really necessary?’
‘Yes. Bhelliom’s useless to you without both rings, and you
may need it almost as soon as we lift it from the sea-floor.’
‘Why?’
She rolled her eyes upward and sighed. ‘Because the whole
world will shift just as soon as Bhelliom moves. When you were
carrying it to Zemoch, the world quivered around like a plate
of jelly the whole time. My family and I really don’t like it when
Bhelliom moves. It makes some of us queasy.’
‘Will our enemies out there be able to pinpoint our location
from that?’
She shook her head. “It’s too generalized. Every God in the
world’s going to know when Bhelliom starts to move, though,
and we can be absolutely sure that at least some of them will
come looking for it. Can we talk about this some other time?’
‘What do you want me to do?’
“Just stand watch at the bedroom door. I don’t like having an
audience when I’m stealing things.’
‘You sound just like Talen.’
‘Naturally. He and I were made for each other. It was the
Gods who invented theft in the first place.’
‘You’re not serious.’
‘Of course. We steal things from each other all the time. It’s a
game. Did you think we just sat around on clouds basking in adoration?
We have to do something to pass the time. You should try it
sometime, father. It’s lots of fun.’ She looked around furtively,
crouched low and reached for the bedroom door-handle. ‘Keep a
lookout, Sparhawk. Whistle if you hear anybody coming.’
They all gathered in the sitting room of the royal apartment
the following morning to receive their final instructions from
Emperor Sarabian and Queen Ehlana. It was a formality, really.
Everybody knew what they were supposed to do already, so
they sat in the sunlit room making generalized small-talk and
cautioning each other to be careful. People who are parting from
each other do that a lot.
Alcan, Queen Ehlana’s doe-eyed maid, was in the next room,
and she was singing. Her voice was clear and sweet and true,
and all conversation in the sitting room broke off as she sang.
“It’s like listening to an angel,’ Patriarch Emban murmured.
‘The girl has a truly magnificent voice,’ Sarabian agreed. “She
already has the court musicians in near-despair.’
“She seems a bit sad this morning,’ Kalten said, two great
tears glistening in his eyes.
Sparhawk smiled faintly. Kalten had preyed on maids since
he had been a young man, and few had been able to resist his
blandishments. This time, however, the shoe was on the other
foot. Alcan was not singing for her own entertainment. The
brown-eyed girl was singing for an audience of one, and her
song, dealing as it did with the sorrows of parting, filled Kalten’s
eyes. She sang of broken hearts and other extravagances in a
very old Elenian ballad entitled ‘My Bonnie Blue-Eyed Boy’.
Then Sparhawk noticed that Baroness Melidere, Queen’ Ehlana’s
lady-in-waiting, was also watching Kalten very closely. Melldere’s
eyes met Sparhawk’s and she slowly winked. Sparhawk
almost laughed aloud. he was clearly not the only one who was
aware of Alcan’s subtle campaign.
‘You will write, won’t you, Sparhawk?’ Ehlana said.
‘Of course I will,’ he replied.
“I can virtually guarantee that, your Majesty,’ Vanion said. ‘if
you give him just a little time, Sparhawk’s a great letter-writer.
He devotes enormous amounts of time and effort to his correspondence. ‘
‘Tell me everything, Sparhawk,’ the queen urged.
‘Oh he will, your Majesty, he will,’ Vanion assured her. ‘he’ll
probably tell you more than you ever really wanted to know
about the Isle of Tega.’
‘Critic,’ Sparhawk muttered under his breath.
‘Please don’t be too vivid in your description of our situation
here, your Grace,’ Sarabian was saying to Emban. ‘Don’t make
Dolmant think that my empire’s falling down around my ears.’
‘isn’t it, your Majesty?’ Emban replied with some surprise. “I
thought that was why I was dashing back to Chyrellos to fetch
the Church Knights.’
‘Well, maybe it is, but don’t destroy my dignity entirely.’
‘Dolmant’s very wise, your Majesty,’ Emban assured him. ‘He
understands the language of diplomacy.’
‘Oh, really?’ Ehlana said with heavy sarcasm.
“Should I convey your Majesty’s greetings to the Archprelate
as well?’ Emban asked her.
‘Of course. Tell him that I’m desolate at being separated from
him – particularly in view of the fact that I can’t keep an eye on
him. You might also advise him that a little-known Elenian statute
clearly says that I have to ratify any agreements he makes
with the Earl of Lenda during my absence. Tell him not to get
too comfortable in those pieces of my kingdom he’s been snipping
off since I left, because i’ll just take them back again as
soon as I get home.’
‘Does she do this all the time, Sparhawk?’ Sarabian asked.
‘Oh yes, all the time, your Majesty. The Archprelate bites
off all his fingernails every time a letter from her reaches the
Basilica.’
“It keeps him young,’ Ehlana shrugged. She rose to her feet.
‘Now, friends,’ she said, “I hope you’ll excuse my husband and
me for a few moments so that we can say our goodbyes privately.
Come along, Sparhawk,’ she commanded.
‘Yes, my queen.’
The morning fog had lifted, and the sun was very bright as
their ship sailed out of the harbor and heeled over to take a
southeasterly course which would round the southern tip of the
Micaen peninsula to the Isle of Tega. The ship was well
appointed, although she was of a slightly alien configuration.
Khalad did not entirely approve of her, finding fault with her
rigging and the slant of her masts.
It was about noon when Vanion came up on deck to speak
with Sparhawk, who was leaning on the rail watching the coastline
slide by. They were both wearing casual clothing, since
there is no real need for formal garb on board ship.
‘Sephrenia wants us all in the main cabin,’ the Preceptor told
his friend. “It’s time for one of those startling revelations we’ve
all come to love and adore. Why don’t you round up the others
and bring them on down?’
‘You’re in a peculiar humor,’ Sparhawk noted. ‘What’s the
problem?’
‘Sephrenia’s being excessively Styric today,’ Vanion shrugged.
‘That one escaped me.’
‘You know the signs, Sparhawk – the mysterious expression,
the cryptic remarks, the melodramatic pauses, the superior
manner.’
‘Have you two been fighting?’
Vanion laughed. ‘Never that, my friend. It’s just that we all
have little quirks and idiosyncrasies that irritate our loved ones
sometimes. Sephrenia’s having one of her quirky days.’
“I won’t tell her you said that, of course.’
Vanion shrugged. “She already knows how I feel. We’ve discussed
it in the past – at length. Sometimes she does it just to
tease me. Go get the others, Sparhawk. Let’s not give her too
much time to perfect this performance.’
They all gathered in the main salon below decks, a cabin which
was part dining room and part lounge. Sephrenia had not put
in her appearance as yet and, after a few moments, Sparhawk
understood what Vanion had been talking about. A familiar
sound began to emerge from the lady’s cabin.
‘Flute.?’ Talen exclaimed in astonishment, his voice cracking
in that peculiar adolescent yodel which afflicts human males at
the onset of puberty.
Sparhawk had wondered how Aphrael intended to get round
the rather sticky problem of explaining her identity. To have
appeared to the others as Princess Danae would quite obviously
have been out of the question. Flute was quite another matter’.