Betuana dispatched runners to Matherion just before noon,
when the last of the demoralized Cyrgai capitulated. Sir Ulath
made an issue of the fact that what had happened to the Cymesgans
in the outer city might have influenced that decision to
some degree. Patriarch Bergsten had taken to looking at his
countryman with a critical and speculative eye. Bergsten was a
rough-and-ready churchman, willing to bend all sorts of rules
in the name of expediency, but he choked just a bit on Ulath’s
%led ecumenicism. ‘He’s just a little too enthusiastic, Sparhawk.”
the huge Patriarch declared. ‘All right, I’ll grant you that
the Trolls were useful, but -‘ He groped for a way to express
his innate prejudices.
‘There’s a rather special kinship between Ulath and Bhlokw,
your Grace,’ Sparhawk sidestepped the issue. ‘How much have
we got left to do here? I’d sort of like to get my wife back to
civilization. ‘
‘You can leave now, Sparhawk,’ Bergsten said with a shrug.
We can take care of cleaning up here. You didn’t leave very
much for the rest of us to worry about. I’ll stay here with the
‘knights to finish rounding up the Cyrgai; Tikume will take
his Peloi back to Cynestra to help Itagne and Atana Mans set
up the occupation, and Betuana’s going to send her Atans
into Arjuna to re-establish imperial authority.’ He made a sour
face.
‘There’s nothing really left but all the niggling little administrative
details. You’ve robbed me of a very good fight,
Sparhawk.’
‘I can send for more of klael’s soldiers if you want, your Grace.
‘No. That’s all right, Sparhawk,’ Bergsten replied quickly. ‘I
can live without any more of those fights. You’ll be going straight
back to Matherion?’
‘Not straight back, your Grace. Courtesy obliges us to escort
Anarae Xanetia back to Delphaeus.’
‘She’s a very strange lady,’ Bergsten mused. ‘I keep catching
myself just on the verge of genuflection every time she enters
a room. ‘
‘She has that effect on people, your Grace. If you really don’t
‘need us here, I’ll talk with the others, and we’ll get ready to leave.’
‘What actually happened, Sparhawk?’ Bergsten asked directly.
‘I have to make a report to Dolmant, and I can’t make much
sense out of what the others have been telling me.’
‘i’m not sure I can explain it, your Grace,’ Sparhawk replied.
“helliom and I were sort of combined for a while. It needed my
arm, I guess.’ It was an easy answer, and it evaded a central
issue that Sparhawk was not yet fully prepared to even think
about.
‘You were just a tool, then?’ Bergsten’s look was intent.
Sparhawk shrugged. ‘Aren’t we all, your Grace? We’re the
instruments of God. That’s what we get paid for.’
‘Sparhawk, you’re right on the verge of heresy here. Don’t
throw the word “God” around like that.’
‘No, your Grace,’ Sparhawk agreed. ‘It’s just a reflection of
the limitations of language. There are things that we don’t
understand and don’t have names for. We just lump them all
together, call it “God”, and let it go at that. You and I are soldiers,
Patriarch Bergsten. We get paid to hit the ground running
when somebody blows a trumpet. Let Dolmant sort it out. That’s
what he gets paid for.’
Sparhawk and his friends, accompanied by Kring, Betuana and
Engessa, rode out of shattered Cyrga shortly after dawn the
following morning, bound for Sama. Sparhawk had neither seen
nor heard from Bhelliom since his encounter with Cyrgon,
and he felt a peculiar sense of disappointment about that. The
Troll-Gods had also departed with their children – all
except for Bhlokw, who shambled along between Ulath and Tynian.
Bhlokw was evasive about his reasons for accompanying
them.
They rode northeasterly across the barren wastes of Cynesga,
traveling in easy stages. The urgent need for haste was gone
now. Sephrenia and Xanetia, once again working in concert,
had returned all the faces to their rightful owners, and things
were slowly settling back to ‘normal.
It was about mid-morning ten days after they had left Cyrga
and when they were but a few leagues from Sama that Vanion
rode forward to join Sparhawk at the head of the column. ‘A
word with you, Sparhawk?’ he said.
‘Of course.’
‘It’s sort of private.’
Sparhawk nodded, turned the column over to Bevier and
nudged Faran into a rolling canter. He and Vanion slowed again
when they were about a quarter of a mile ahead of the others.
‘Sephrenia wants us to get married,’ Vanion said, cutting past
any preamble.
‘You’re asking my permission?’
Vanion gave him a long, steady look.
‘Sorry,’ Sparhawk apologized. ‘You took me by surprise.
There are problems with that’, you know. The Church will never
approve, and neither will the Thousand of Styricum. We’re not
quite as hide-bound as we used to be, but the notion of interracial
or interfaith marriage still raises some hackles.’
‘I know,’ Vanion said glumly. ‘Dolmant probably wouldn’t
have any personal objections, but his hands are tied by Church
law and doctrine.’
‘Who are you going to get to officiate, then?’
‘Sephrenia’s already solved that problem. Xanetia’s going to
perform the ceremony.’
Sparhawk nearly choked on that.
‘She is a priestess, Sparhawk.’
‘Well – technically, I suppose.’ Then Sparhawk suddenly
broke out laughing.
‘What’s so funny?’ Vanion demanded truculently.
‘Can you imagine the look on Ortzel’s face when he hears
that a Preceptor of one of the four orders, a Patriarch of the
Church, has been married to one of the Thousand of Styricum
by a Delphaeic priestess?’
‘It does violate a few rules, doesn’t it?’ Vanion conceded with
a wry smile.
‘A few? Vanion, I doubt that you could find any single act
that’d violate more.’
‘Do you object, too?’
‘Not me, old friend. If this is what you and Sephrenia want,
I’ll back the two of you all the way up to the Hierocracy.’
‘Would you stand up with me, then? During the ceremony, I
mean?’
Sparhawk clapped him on the shoulder. ‘i’d be honored, my
lord.”
‘Good. That’ll keep it all in the family. Sephrenia’s already
spoken to your wife about it. Ehlana’s going to stand with
her.’
‘Somehow I almost knew that was coming,’ Sparhawk
laughed.
They passed through Sama and proceeded north along a
snow-clogged mountain trail toward Dirgis in southern Atan.
after they left Dirgis, they turned westward again and rode higher into the
mountains.
‘We’re leaving a very wide trail behind us, Sparhawk,’ Bevier
said late one snowy afternoon. ‘And the trail’s leading directly
to Delphaeus.’
Sparhawk turned and looked back. ‘You’ve got a point,’ he
conceded. ‘Maybe I’d better have a talk with Aphrael. Things
have changed a bit, but I don’t think the Delphae are quite ready
to welcome crowds of sightseers.’ He turned Faran around and
rode back to join the ladies. Aphrael, as usual, rode with
Sephrenia. ‘A suggestion, Divine One?’ Sparhawk said tentatively.
‘You sound just like Tynian.’
He ignored that. ‘How good are you with weather?’ he asked.
‘Did you want it to be summer?’
‘No. Actually I want a moderate-sized blizzard. We’re leaving
tracks in the snow behind us, and the tracks are pointing straight
at Delphaeus.’
‘What difference does that make?’
‘The Delphae might not want unannounced visitors.’
‘There won’t be any – announced or otherwise. You promised
to seal their valley, didn’t you?’
‘Oh, God!” he said. ‘i’d forgotten about that. This is going to
be a problem. I don’t have Bhelliom any more.’
‘Then you’d better try to get in touch with it, Sparhawk. A
promise is a promise, after all. Xanetia’s kept her part of the
bargain, so you’re morally obliged to keep yours.’
Sparhawk was troubled. He rode off some distance into a thick
grove of spindly sapling pines and dismounted. ‘Blue Rose,’ he
said aloud, not really expecting an answer. ‘Blue Rose.’
‘I hear thee, Anakha,’ the voice in his mind responded
immediately. ‘I had thought thou might be in some way discontent
with me.”
‘Never that, Blue Rose. Thou hast fulfilled – or exceeded – all
that I did require of thee. Our enemies are overthrown, and I
am content. I did, however, pledge mine honor to the Delphae
in exchange for their aid. I am obliged to seal up their valley
that none of this world may come upon them.’
‘I do recall thy pledge, Anakha. It was well-given. Soon, however,
it will not be needful.’
‘Thy meaning escapes me.’
‘Watch then, my son, and learn.’ There was a lengthy pause
‘It is not mine intent to offend, but why hast thou brought this
to me?’
‘I gave my word that I would seal their valley, Father.’
‘Then seal it.’
‘I was not certain that I could still speak with thee to entreat
thine aid.’
‘Thou hast no need of aid, Anakha – not mine nor that of any
other. Did not thine encounter with Cyrgon convince thee that
all things are possible for thee? Thou art Anakha and my son,