‘Remember me,’ the hind said softly, nuzzling at his cheek.
“I will,’ he promised, “and gladly, for thy sweet presence doth ease my troubled soul and bids me rest.’
And then again he slept.
He awoke in an ugly world of black sand and chill, blowing dust reeking of things long dead. His hair was clogged with the dust, and it abraded his skin beneath his clothing. What had really awakened him, however, was a small, tinking sound, the sound of someone firmly tapping on ringing steel with a small hammer.
Despite the turmoil of the previous day, he felt enormously refreshed and at peace with the world.
The ringing sound of the hammer stopped, and Kurik crossed their dusty camp site with something in his hands.
He held it out to Sparhawk. ‘What do you think?’ he asked.
“Will this lock it in?’ What he was holding in his callused hands was a chain-mail pouch. ‘It’s about the best I can do for now, My Lord. I don’t have too much steel to work with.’
Sparhawk took the pouch and looked at his squire. ‘You too?’ he asked. “You had a dream too?’
Kurik nodded. ‘I talked with Sephrenia about it,’ he said. “We all had the same dream – it wasn’t exactly a dream, though. She tried to explain it to me, but she lost me.’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry, Sparhawk. I doubted you.
Everything seemed so futile and hopeless.’
“That was the Troll-Gods, Kurik. Let’s get Bhelliom into the steel pouch so that it doesn’t happen to you again.’ He took up the canvas pouch and began to untie the strings.
‘Wouldn’t it be easier just to leave it inside the canvas sack?’ Kurik asked.
“It might make it easier to put it into the steel one, but the time’s coming when I might have to take it out in a hurry. I don’t want any knots getting in my way when Azash is breathing down the back of my neck.’
‘Sound thinking, My Lord.’
Sparhawk lifted the Sapphire Rose in both hands and held it directly in front of his face. ‘Blue-Rose,’ he said to it in Troll, “I am Sparhawk-from-Elenia. Do you know me?’
The Rose flickered sullenly.
“Do you acknowledge my authority?’
The Rose grew dark, and he could feel its hatred.
He inched his right thumb up along his palm and turned the ring on his finger around. Then he held the ring against the flower-gem – not the band this time but the blood-stained stone itself. He pressed his hand firmly against the Sapphire Rose.
Bhelliom shrieked, and he could feel it writhing in his hand like a live snake. He relaxed the pressure slightly.
‘I’m glad we understand each other,’ he said. ‘Hold open the pouch, Kurik.’
There was no resistance. The jewel seemed almost eager to enter its imprisonment.
‘Neat,’ Kurik said admiringly as Sparhawk wrapped a strand of soft iron wire around the top of the steel-link pouch.
‘I thought it might be worth a try,’ Sparhawk grinned.
‘Are the others up yet?’
Kurik nodded. “They’re standing in line over by the fire.
You might give some thought to issuing a general amnesty, Sparhawk. Otherwise, they’ll fill up half the morning with apologies. Be particularly careful about Bevier. He’s been praying since before daylight. It’s likely to take him a long time to tell you just how guilty he feels.’
‘He’s a good boy, Kurik.’
‘Of course he is. That’s part of the problem.’
‘Cynic. ‘
Kurik grinned at him.
As the two of them crossed the camp, Kurik looked up at the sky. “The wind’s died,’ he observed, “and the dust seems to be settling. Do you suppose -?’ He left it tentative.
‘Probably,’ Sparhawk said. ‘It sort of fits together, doesn’t it? Well, here goes.’ He cleared his throat as he approached his shamefaced friends. ‘Interesting night, wasn’t it?’ he asked them conversationally. “I was really getting attached to that little white deer. She had a cold, wet nose, though.’
They laughed, sounding a bit strained.
“All right,’ he said then. ‘Now we know where all the gloom was coming from, and there’s not really much point in ploughing over it again and again, is there? It was nobody’s fault, so why don’t we forget about it? We’ve got more important things to think about right now.’ He held up the steel-link pouch. “Here’s our blue friend,’ he told them. “I hope it’s comfortable in its little iron sack, but comfortable or not, that’s where it’s going to stay – at least until we need it. Whose turn is it to cook breakfast?’
‘Yours,’ Ulath told him.
“I cooked supper last night.’
.What’s that got to do with it?’
‘That’s hardly fair, Ulath.’
‘I just keep track of these things, Sparhawk. If you’re interested in justice, go and talk with the Gods.’
The rest of them laughed, and everything was all right again.
While Sparhawk was preparing breakfast, Sephrenia joined him at the fire. ‘I owe you an apology, dear one,’
she confessed.
“Oh?’
“I didn’t even suspect that the Troll-Gods might have been the source of that shadow. ‘
‘I’d hardly call that your fault, Sephrenia. I was so convinced that it was Azash that I wasn’t willing to admit any other possibility. ‘
‘I’m supposed to know better, Sparhawk. I’m not supposed to rely on logic.’
‘I think it might have been Perraine that led us in the wrong direction, little mother,’ he said gravely. “Those attacks of his came at Martel’s direction, and Martel was simply following an earlier strategy laid down by Azash.
since it was just a continuation of what had been going on before, we had no reason to suspect that something new had entered the game. Even after we found out that Perrame had nothing to do with the shadow, the old idea still stuck. Don’t blame yourself, Sephrenia, because I certainly don’t blame you. What surprises me is that Aphrael didn’t see that we were making a mistake and warn us about it.’
Sephrenia smiled a bit ruefully. ‘I’m afraid it was because she couldn’t believe that we didn’t understand.
She has no real conception of just how limited we are Sparhawk.’
“Shouldn’t you tell her?’
‘I’d sooner die.’
Kurik’s speculation may or may not have been correct, but whether that constant wind which had choked them with dust for the past few days had been of natural origin or whether Bhelliom had roused it, it was gone now, and the air was clear and cold. The sky was bright, brittle blue, and the sun, cold and hard, hung above the eastern horizon. That, coupled with the vision of the preceding night, lifted their spirits enough to make it even possible for them to ignore the black cloud hovering on the horizon behind them.
‘Sparhawk,’ Tynian said, pulling his horse in beside Faran, “I think I’ve finally figured it out.’
“Figured what out?’
“I think I know how Ulath decides whose turn it is to cook.’
‘Oh? I’d like to hear that.”
‘He just waits until somebody asks, that’s all. As soon as somebody asks whose turn it is, Ulath appoints him to do the cooking.’
Sparhawk thought back. “You could be right, you know, he agreed, ‘but what if nobody asks?’
‘Then Ulath has to do the cooking himself. It happened once as I recall.’
Sparhawk thought it over. “Why don’t you tell the others?’ he suggested. “I think Ulath has a lot of turns coming’ , don’t you?’
“He does indeed, my friend,’ Tynian laughed.
It was about mid-afternoon when they reached a steep ridge of sharply-fractured black rock. There was a sort of a trail winding towards its top. When they were about halfway up, Talen called to Sparhawk from the rear. ‘Why don’t we stop here?’ he suggested. ‘I’ll sneak on ahead and take a look.’
‘It’s too dangerous,’ Sparhawk turned him down flatly.
‘Grow up, Sparhawk. That’s what I do. I’m a profesional sneak. Nobody’s going to see me. I can guarantee that.’ The boy paused. “Besides,’ he added, ‘if there’s any kind of trouble, you’re going to need grown men wearing SteEl to help you. I wouldn’t be of much use in a fight, so I’m the only one you can really spare.’ He made a face. ‘I can’t believe I just said that. I want you all to promise to keep Aphrael away from me. I think she’s an unhealthy influence.’
“Forget it,’ Sparhawk rejected the idea.
‘No chance, Sparhawk,’ the boy said impudently, rolling out of his saddle and hitting the ground running. ‘None of you can catch me.’
‘He’s long overdue for a good thrashing,’ Kurik growled as they watched the nimble boy scamper up the side of the ridge.
‘He’s right, though,’ Kalten said. ‘He’s the only one we can really afford to lose. Somewhere along the way he’s picked up a fairly wide streak of nobility. You should be proud of him, Kurik.’