away. ‘I made a serious blunder last spring before Oscagne
uprooted me and sent me to Cynestra. I was teaching a class in
foreign relations at the University, and I slipped and said the
%6N words, “write a paper”. Now I’ve got a bale of these things
to plough through.’ He shuddered.
“bad?”
‘Unbelievably so. Undergraduates should never be allowed to
%louth a quill-pen. So far I’ve encountered fifteen different versions
of my own lecture notes – all couched in graceless, semiknemte
prose.’
“Where’s Vanion?’
He’s checking on his wounded. Have you seen Aphrael yet
this morning?’
Sparhawk shook his head. ‘She could be anywhere.’
“did she actually fly you here from Dirgis?’
“Oh, yes – and up from Beresa before that. It’s an unusual
experience, and it always starts with the same argument.’
Itagne gave him a questioning look.
‘She has to revert to her real form when she does it.
‘Blazing light? Trailing clouds of glory, and all that?’
‘No, nothing’like that. She always poses as a little
girl. that’s a subterfuge. Actually, she’s a young woman.’
‘What do you argue with her about?’
‘Whether or not she’s going to wear clothes. The Gods evidently
don’t need them, and they haven’t quite grasped the
concept of modesty Yet. She’s a bit distracting when she first
appears.’
‘I can imagine.
The door opened, and Vanion came in, brushing the snow off
the shoulders of his cloak.
‘How are the men?’ Sparhawk asked him.
‘Not good,’ the Preceptor replied. ‘I wish we’d known more
about klael’s soldiers before we closed with them. I lost a lot of
very good knights needlessly during that skirmish. If I’d had
my wits about me, I’d have suspected something when they
didn’t pursue us after we broke off our attack.’
‘How long were you engaged?’
‘It seemed like hours, but it was probably no longer than ten
minutes.’
‘When you get to Samar, you might want to talk with Kring
and Tikume. We should try to get some idea of just how long
those soldiers can function in our air before they start to
collapse.’
Vanion nodded.
There was really nothing for them to do, and the morming
dragged sluggishly by.
It was shortly before noon when Betuana, clad in closefitting
otterskin clothing, came running effortlessly out of the
SWirling snow. Her almost inhuman stamina was somehow
unnerving. She seemed hardly winded and not even flushed
as she entered the room where they waited. ‘invigorating,’
she noted absently as she peeled off her outer garment. She
took one lock of her night-dark hair and stretched it out to
look critically at its sodden length. ‘Does anyone have a comb?’
she asked. They all started at the sound of a blaring trumpet fanfare from
the other end of the room. They spun around and saw the Child
Goddess. She was surrounded by a nimbus of pure light, she
floated sedately in mid-air, and she was smiling sweetly at Sparhawk.
‘Is that sort of what you had in mind?’ she asked him.
He cast his eyes upward. ‘Why me?’ he groaned. Then he
looked at her smiling little face. ‘I give up, Aphrael,’ he said.
“you win. ‘
“Of course. I always win.’ She gently settled to the floor, and
her light dimmed. ‘Come here, Betuana. Let me comb that out
for you.’ She held out her hands, and a comb appeared in one
and a brush in the other.
The Queen of the Atans went to her and sat in a chair.
“What did he say?’ Aphrael asked as she began to slowly pull
the comb through Betuana’s dripping hair.
“He said “no” right at first,’ the Queen replied, ‘and “no”,
the second and third times as well. He started to weaken about
the twelfth time, as I remember it.’
‘I knew it would work.’ Aphrael smiled.
‘Are we missing something?’ Vanion asked her.
The Atans don’t call on their God very often, so he almost has
to respond when they do. He was probably concentrating
on something else, and each time Betuana called him, he had
to put it down and go see what she wanted.’
I was very polite.’ Betuana smiled. ‘But I did keep asking.
He’s very much afraid of you, Divine One.’
I know.’ Aphrael laid down her comb and picked up the
brush. ‘He thinks I’m going to steal his soul or something. He
won’t come anywhere near me.’
I let him know that I was going to keep on calling him until
he gave me permission,’ Betuana went on, ‘and he finally gave
in.”
They always do,’ Aphrael shrugged. ‘You’ll get what you
want eventually if you just keep asking.’
its called “nagging”, Divine One,’ Sparhawk told her.
How would you like to listen to a few days of trumpet fanfares,
Sparhawk?’ she asked.
“no, thanks. It was good of you to ask, though.’
“He definitely gave his permission?’ Aphrael asked the Queen.
Betuana Smiled. ‘Very definitely. He said, “Tell her she can
do anything she wants. just leave me alone!”
‘Good. I’ll take Engessa to the island then.’ Aphrael pursed
her lips. ‘Maybe you’d better send a runner to your husband, telling
‘. him about klael’s soldiers. I know your husband, so you’ll
have to order him not to attack them. I’ve never known anyone
so totally incapable of turning around as he is.’
‘i’ll try to explain it to him,’ Betuana said a little dubiously.
‘Good luck. Here.’ Aphrael handed over the comb and brush.
‘i’ll take Engessa to the island, thaw him out, and get started.’
Ulath called a halt on the outskirts of town, and Bhlokw summoned
Ghnomb. The God of Eat appeared holding the halfeaten
hind-quarter of some large animal in one huge paw.
‘We have reached the place where the one called Berit has
been told to come,’ Ulath told the huge Troll-God. ‘It would be
well now if we come out of No-Time and go into the time of
broken moments.’
Ghnomb gave him a baffled look, clearly not understanding
what they were doing.
‘U-lat and Tin-in hunt thought,’ Bhlokw explained. ‘The manthings
have bellies in their minds as well as the bellies in their
bellies. They have to fill both bellies. Their belly-bellies are full
now. That is why they ask this. It is their wish to now fill their
mind-bellies. ‘
A slow look of comprehension began to dawn on Ghnomb’s
brutish face. ‘Why did you not say this before, Ulath-from-Thalesia?’
Ulath groped for an answer.
‘It was Bhlokw who found that we have mind-bellies,’ Tynian
stepped in. ‘We did not know this. We only knew that our minds
were hungry. It is good that Ghworg sent Bhlokw to hunt with
us. Bhlokw is a very good hunter.’
Bhlokw beamed.
Ulath quickly expanded the metaphor. ‘Our mind-bellies
hunger for thoughts about the wicked ones,’ he explained. ‘We
can track those thoughts in the bird-noises the man-things make
when they speak. We will stand on one side of the broken
moment where they can not see us, and listen to the bird-noises
they are making. We will follow those tracks to the ones we
hunt, and they will not know we are there. Then we will listen
to the bird-noises they make and learn where they have hidden
Anakha’s mate.’
‘You hunt well,’ Ghnomb approved. ‘I had not thought of
this kind of hunting before. It is almost as good as hunting
things-to-eat. I will help you in your hunt.’
‘It makes us glad that you will,’ Tynian thanked him.
ArJun was the capital of the Kingdom of Arjuna, a substantial
city on the south shore of the lake. The royal palace and the
stately homes of the noble families of the kingdom lay in the
hills on the southern edge of town, and the commercial center
was near the lake-front.
Ulath and Tynian concealed their horses and proceeded on
foot through the grey half-light of Ghnomb’s broken moments
into the city itself. Then they split up and began to search for
the food their mind-bellies craved, while Bhlokw went looking
for dogs.
It was almost evening when Ulath came out of another of the
seedy taverns near the docks on the east side of town. ‘This is
going to take all month,’ he muttered to himself. The name
Scarpa had cropped up in a few of the conversations he had
overheard, and each time he heard it, he had eagerly drawn
closer to listen. Unfortunately, however, Scarpa and his army
were general topics of conversation here, and Ulath had not
been able to pick up anything that was at all useful.
‘Get out of my way.’ the voice was harsh, PeremPtory. Ulath
turned to see who was being so offensive.
The man was a richly dressed Dacite. He was riding a spirited
black horse, and his face bore the marks of habitual dissipation.
Though he had never seen the fellow before, Ulath recognized
him immediately. Talen’s pencil had captured that face almost