perfectly. Ulath smiled. ‘Well, now,’ he murmured, ‘that’s a
little better.’ He stepped out into the street and followed the
prancing black horse.
Their destination was one of the grand houses near the royal
palace. A liveried servant rushed from the house to greet the
sneering Elene. ‘We’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival, my
Lord,’ he declared, bowing obsequiously.
‘Get somebody to take care of my horse,’ the Elene snapped
as he dismounted. ‘is everybody here?’
‘Yes, Baron Parok.’
‘Astonishing. Don’t just stand there, fool. Take me to them
at once. ‘
‘Yes, my Lord Baron.”
Ulath smiled again and followed them into the house.
The room to which the servant led them appeared to be a
study of some kind. The walls were lined with book-cases,
though the books shelved there showed no signs of ever having
been opened. There were about a dozen men in the room: some
Elene, some Arjuni, and even one Styric.
‘Let’s get down to business,’ Baron Parok told them, negligently
tossing his plumed hat and his gloves down on the table.
‘What have you to report?’
‘Prince Sparhawk has reached Tiara, Baron Parok,’ the lone
Styric told him.
‘We expected that.’
‘We did not, however, expect his treatment of my kinsman.
He and that brute he calls his squire followed our messenger
and assaulted him. They tore off all his clothes and turned all
his pockets inside out.’ Parok laughed harshly.
‘i’ve met your cousin, Zorek,’ he said.
‘i’m sure he richly deserved it. What did he say to the Prince to
merit such treatment?’
‘He gave them the note, my Lord, and that ruffian of a squire
made some insulting remark about a twenty-day journey on
horseback. My cousin took offense at that and told them that
they only had fourteen days to make the journey.’
‘That was not in the instructions,’ Parok snapped. ‘Did
Sparhawk kill him?’
‘No, my lord.’ Zorek’s tone was sullen.
‘Pity,’ Parok said darkly. ‘Now I’ll have to attend to it myself.
You Styrics get above yourselves at times. When I have leisure,
I’m going to run your cousin down and hang his guts on a fence
as an example to the rest of you. You’re being paid to do as
you’re told, not to get creative.’ He looked around. ‘Who’s got
the next note?’ he asked.
‘I have, my Lord,’ a rather prosperous-looking Edomishman
replied. ‘You’d better hold off on delivering it. Zorek’s cousin upset
our timetable with his excursion into constructive creativity. Let
Sparhawk cool his heels here for a week or so. Then give him
the note that tells him to go on to Verel. Lord Scarpa wants his
army to start moving north before we give Sparhawk that last
message – the one that tells him to go on to Natayos for the
%exc
‘Bhaarnogne Parok,’ a baggy-eyed Arjuni in a brocade doublet said
arrogantly, ‘this delay – particularly here in the capital – poses some
threat to my king. This Sparhawk person is notoriously
, irrational, and he does still have the jewel of power in his possession.
His Majesty does not want that Elene barbarian lingering
here in Arjun with spare time on his hands. Send him on to
DVerel immediately. If he’s going to destroy some place, let it be
Verel instead of Arjun.’
‘You have amazingly sharp ears, Duke Milanis,’ Parok said
sardonically. ‘Can you really hear what King Rakya is saying
when you’re a mile from the palace?’
‘i’m here to protect His Majesty’s interests, Baron. I have full
authority to speak for him. His Majesty’s alliance with Lord
Scarpa is not etched on a diamond. Keep Prince Sparhawk
moving. We don’t want him here in Arjun.’
‘And if I don’t?’
Milanis shrugged. ‘His Majesty will abrogate the alliance and
make a full report of what you people have been doing – and
what you’re planning to do – to the Tamul Ambassador.’
‘I see that the old saw about the stupidity of trusting an Arjuni
still holds true.’
“Just do as you’re told, Parok,’ Milanis snapped. ‘Don’t bore
me with all these tedious protests and racial slurs. Don’t make
any blunders here, old boy. His Majesty’s report to the ambassador
has already been written. All he requires is an excuse to
send it across town.’
A servant entered with a flagon and a tray of wine-glasses,
and Ulath took advantage of the open door to slip from the
room. It was going to take a while to round up Tynian and
Blokw, and then they were going to have to compose a fairly
extensive message to Aphrael.
After he had slipped out of the house, however, Sir Ulath
very briefly indulged himself. He leapt high into the air with a
triumphant bellow, smacking his hands together with glee. Then
he composed himself and went looking for his friends.
The black-armored Sir Heldin returned to rejoin Patriarch Bergsten
at the head of the column.
‘Any luck?’ Bergsten asked him.
Heldin shook his head. ‘Sir Tynian was very thorough,’ he
rumbled in his deep bass. ‘He winnowed through the ranks
of the Pandion Order like a man panning for gold. I think he
took just about everybody who can even pronounce the Styric Spells.
‘You know the spells.’
‘Yes, but Aphrael can’t hear me. My voice is pitched too low
for her ears.’
‘That raises some very interesting theological points,’ Bergsten
mused.
‘Could we ponder them some other time, your Grace? right
now we have to get word of what happened in Zemoch to
Sparhawk and Vanion. The war could be over by the time
Ambassador Fontan’s messengers reach them.’
‘Talk with the other orders, Heldin,’ Bergsten suggested.
‘I don’t think it would work, your Grace. Each order works
through the personal God of the Styric who taught them the
secrets. We have to get word to Aphrael. She’s the one who’s
perched on Sparhawk’s shoulder.’
‘Heldin, you spent too much time practicing with your
weapons during your novitiate. Theology does have a purpose,
you know.’
‘Yes, your Grace,’ Heldin sighed, rolling his eyes upward and
bracing himself for a sermon.
‘Don’t do that,’ Bergsten told him. ‘i’m not talking about Elene
theology. I’m talking about the misguided beliefs of the Styrics.
How many Styric Gods are there?’
‘A thousand, your Grace,’ Heldin replied promptly.
‘Sephrenia always made some issue of that.’
‘Do these thousand Younger Gods exist independently of each
other?’
‘As I understand it, they’re all related – sort of like a family.’
‘Amazing. You did listen when Sephrenia was talking to you.
You Pandions all worship Aphrael, right?’
“‘Worship” might be too strong a term, your Grace.’
‘i’ve heard stories about Aphrael, Heldin,’ Bergsten smiled.
‘She has a private agenda. She’s trying to steal the whole of
human-kind. Now then, I’m a member of the Genidian Order.’
He paused. ‘I was,’ he corrected himself. ‘We make our appeals
to Hanks, the Cyrinics work through Romalic, and the Alciones
deal with Setras. Do you imagine that in their misty heaven
somewhere above the clouds these Styric Gods might now and
then talk with each other?’
‘Please don’t beat me over the head, Bergsten. I overlooked
something, that’s all. I’m not stupid.’
‘Never said you were, old boy.’ Bergsten smiled. ‘You just
needed spiritual guidance, that’s all. That’s the purpose of our
Holy Mother. Come to me with your spiritual problems, my son.
I will gently guide you – and if guidance doesn’t work, I’ll take
my axe and drive you.’
‘I see that your Grace adheres to the notion of the Church
Muscular,’ Heldin said sourly.
‘That’s my spiritual problem, my son, not yours. Now go find
an Alcione. Legend has it that Aphrael and Setras are particularly
close. I think we can count on Setra’s to pass things along
to his thieving little cousin.’
‘Your Grace!’ Heldin Protested.
The Church has had her eye on Aphrael for centuries, Heldin.
We know all about your precious little Child Goddess and her
tricks. Don’t let her kiss you, my friend. If you do, she’ll pinch
your soul while you’re not looking.’
There were a dozen wobbly ox-carts this time, all heavily laden
with beer barrels, and Senga had recruited several dozen of
Narstil’s shabby outlaws to assist him in guarding and dispensing
his product. Kalten had rather smoothly insinuated Caalador
and Bevier into the company.
‘I still think you’re making a mistake, Senga,’ Kalten told his
good-natured employer as their rickety cart jolted along the
rough jungle path toward Natayos. ‘You’ve got a complete lock
on the market. Why lower your prices?’
‘Because I’ll make more money if I do.’
That doesn’t make sense.’
‘look, Col,’ Senga explained patiently, ‘when I came here
before, I only had one cart-load of beer. I could get any price I
asked, because my beer was so scarce.’
I guess that makes sense.’
i’ve got an almost unlimited supply now, though, so I’m
making my profit on volume instead of price.’
“that’s what doesn’t make sense.’