you know how good I am at that. If I really want something, I
almost always get it.’
‘You there! Look lively.’ Sorgi’s bull-necked bo’sun bellowed,
Popping his whip at Stragen’s heels.
Stragen, who now wore the braids and sweeping mustaches
of a blond Genidian Knight, dropped the bale he was carrying
across the deck and reached for his dagger.
‘No!’ Sparhawk hissed at him. ‘Pick up that bale!’
Stragen glared at him for a moment, then Bent and lifted the
bale again. ‘This wasn’t part of the agreement,’ he muttered.
‘He’s not really going to hit you with that whip,’ Talen assured
%ming Thalesian. ‘Sailors all complain about it, but the whip’s
just for show. A bo’sun who really hits his men with his whip
usually gets thrown over the side some night during the
dogwatch.”
‘maybe,’ Stragen growled darkly, ‘but I’ll tell you this right
now. If that cretin so much as touches me with that whip of his,
he won’t live long enough to go swimming. I’ll have his guts in
a pile on the deck before he can even blink.’
‘You new men!’ the bo’sun shouted, ‘do your talking on your
own time! You’re here to work, not to discuss the weather!’ and
he cracked his whip again.
‘She could do it, Khalad,’ Berit insisted.
‘I think you’ve been out in the sun too long,’ Khalad replied.
They were riding south along a lonely beach under an overcast
sky. The beach was backed by an uninviting salt marsh
where dry reeds clattered against each other in the stiff onshore
breeze. Khalad rose in his stirrups and looked around. Then
he settled back in his saddle again. ‘it’s a ridiculous idea,
my Lord.’
Try to keep an open mind, Khalad. Aphrael’s a Goddess. She
an do anything.’
‘i’m sure she can, but why would she want to?’
“well -‘ Berit struggled with it. ‘She could have a reason,
couldn’t she? Something that you and I wouldn’t even
understand?”
‘is this what all that Styric training does to a man? You’re
starting to see Gods under every bush. It was only a coincidence.
The two of them look a little bit alike, but that’s all.’
‘You can be as skeptical as you want, Khalad, but I still think
that something very strange is going on.’
‘And I think that what you’re suggesting is an absurdity.’
‘Absurd or not, their mannerisms are the same, their
expressions are identical, and they’ve both got that same air of
smug superiority about them.’
‘Of course they do. Aphrael’s a Goddess, and Danae’s a
Crown Princess. They are superior – at least in their own minds
and I think you’re overlooking the fact that we saw them both
in the same room and at the same time. They even talked to each
other, for God’s sake.’
Khalad, that doesn’t mean anything. Aphrael’s a Goddess.
She can probably be in a dozen different places all at the same
time if she really wants to be.’
‘That still brings us right back to the question of why? What
would be the purpose of it? Not even a God does things without
any reason.’
‘We don’t know that, Khalad. Maybe she’s doing it just to
amuse herself.’
‘Are you really all that desperate to witness miracles, Berit?’
‘She could do it,’ Berit insisted.
‘All right. So what?’
‘Aren’t you the least bit curious about it?
‘Not particularly,’ Khalad shrugged.
Ulath and Tynian wore bits and pieces of the uniforms of one
of the few units of the Tamul army that accepted volunteers
from the Elene kingdoms of western Daresia. The faces they had
borrowed were those of grizzled, middle-aged knights, the faces
of hard-bitten veterans. The vessel aboard which they sailed
was one of those battered, ill-maintained ships that ply coastal
waters. The small amount of money they had paid for their
passage bought them exactly that – passage, and nothing else.
They had brought their own food and drink and their patched
blankets, and they ate and slept on the deck. Their destination
was a small coastal village some twenty-five leagues east of the
foothills of the Tamul mountains. They lounged on the deck in
the daytime, drinking cheap wine and rolling dice for pennies.
The sky was overcast when the ship’s longboat deposited
them on the rickety wharf of the village. The day was cool, and
the Tamul Mountains were little more than a low smudge on the
horizon.
‘What was that horse-trader’s name again?’ Tynian asked.
‘Sablis,’ Ulath grunted.
‘I hope Oscagne was right,’ Tynian said. ‘if this Sablis has
gone out of business, we’ll have to walk to those mountains.’
Ulath stepped across the wharf to speak to a pinch-faced fellow
who was mending a fish net. ‘Tell me, friend,’ he said
politely in Tamul, ‘where can we find Sablis the horse-trader?’
‘What if I don’t feel like telling you?’ the scrawny net-mender
replied in a whining, nasal voice that identified him as one of
those mean-spirited men who would rather die than be helpful,
or even polite. Tynian had encountered his kind before, small
men, usually, with an inflated notion of their own worth, men
who delighted in irritating others just for the fun of it. ‘Let
me,’ he murmured, laying one gently restraining hand on his
Thalesian companion’s arm. Ulath’s bunched muscles clearly
spoke of impending violence.
‘Nice net,’ Tynian noted casually, picking up one edge of it.
Then he drew his dagger and began cutting the strings.
‘What are you doing?’ the pinch-faced fisherman screamed.
‘i’m showing you what,’ Tynian explained. ‘You said, “what
if I don’t feel like telling you?” This is what. Think it over. My
friend and I aren’t in any hurry, so take your time.’ He took a
fistful of net and sawed through it with his knife.
‘Stop.’ the fellow shrieked in horror.
‘Ah – where was it you said we might find Sablis?’ Ulath asked
innocently.
‘His corrals are on the eastern edge of town.’ The words came
tumbling out. Then the scrawny fellow gathered up his net in
both arms and held it to his chest, almost like a mother shielding
a child from harm.
‘Have a pleasant day, neighbor,’ Tynian said, sheathing his
dagger. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how much we’ve appreciated
your help here. You’ve been absolutely splendid about the
whole affair.’ And the two knights turned and walked along the
wharf toward the shabby-looking village.
Their camp was neat and orderly with a place for everything
and everything exactly where it belonged. Berit had noticed that
Khalad always set up camp in exactly the same way. He seemed
to have some concept of the ideal camp etched in his mind and,
since it was perfect, he never altered it. Khalad was very rigid
in some ways.
‘How far did we come today?’ Berit asked as they washed up
their supper dishes.
Ten leagues,’ Khalad shrugged, ‘the same as always. Ten
leagues is standard on level terrain.’
This is going to take forever,’ Berit complained.
‘No. It might seem like it, though.’ Khalad looked around and
then lowered his voice until it was hardly more than a whisper.
‘We’re not really in any hurry, Berit,’ he said. ‘We might even
want to slow down a bit.’
What?’
‘Keep your voice down. Sparhawk and the others have a long
way to go, and we want to be sure they’re in place before Krager
– or whoever it is – makes contact with us. We don’t know when
or where that’s going to happen, so the best way to delay it is
to slow down.’ Khalad looked out into the darkness beyond the
circle of firelight. ‘How good are you at magic?’
‘Not very,’ Berit admitted, scrubbing diligently. ‘I’ve still got
a lot to learn. What did you want me to do?’
‘Could you make one of our horses limp – without actually
hurting him?’
Berit probed through his memory. Then he shook his head.
‘I don’t think I know any spells that would do that.’
‘That’s too bad. A lame horse would give us a good reason to
slow down.’
It came without warning: a cold prickling kind of sensation
that seemed to be centered at the back of Berit’s neck. ‘That’s
good enough,’ he said in a louder voice. ‘i’m not getting paid
enough to scrub holes in tin plates.’ He rinsed off the dish he’d
been washing, shook most of the water off it and stowed it back
into the pack.
‘You felt it, too?’ Khalad’s whisper came out from between
motionless lips. That startled Berit. How could Khalad have
known?
Berit buckled the straps on the pack and gave his friend a curt
nod. ‘Let’s build up the fire a bit and then get some sleep.’ He
said it loudly enough to be heard out beyond the circle of firelight.
The two of them walked toward their pile of firewood.
Berit was murmuring the spell and concealing the movements