Much better, friend. Sparhawk rode on.
The gate to the inn was closed, and Sparhawk leaned over and banged on its timbers with his gauntleted fist. The porter who swung it open for him was not the same knight who had admitted him the evening before. Sparhawk swung down from Farans back and handed him the reins.
Will you be needing him again, my Lord? the knight asked.
Yes. Ill be going right back out. Would you saddle my squires horse, Sir Knight?
Of course, my Lord.
I appreciate that. Sparhawk laid one hand on Farans neck. Behave yourself, he said.
Faran looked away, his expression lofty.
Sparhawk clinked up the stairs and rapped on the door of the room at the top.
Kurik opened the door for him. Well? How did it go?
Not bad.
You came out alive, anyway. Did you see the Queen?
Yes.
Thats surprising.
I sort of insisted. Do you want to get your things together? Youre going back to Demos.
You didnt say we, Sparhawk.
Im staying here.
I suppose there are good reasons.
Lycheas has ordered me back to the motherhouse. I more or less plan to ignore him, but I want to be able to move around Cimmura without being followed. Theres a young novice at the chapterhouse whos about my size. Well put him in my armour and mount him on Faran. Then the two of you can ride to Demos with a grand show of obedience. As long as he keeps his visor down, the primates spies will think Im obeying orders.
Its workable, I suppose. I dont like the idea of leaving you here alone, though.
I wont be alone. Kaltens coming in either today or tomorrow.
Thats a little better. Kaltens steady. Kurik frowned. I thought that hed been exiled to Lamorkand. Who ordered him back?
Vanion didnt say, but you know Kalten. Maybe he just got bored with Lamorkand and took independent action.
How long do you want me to stay at Demos? Kurik asked as he began to gather up his things.
A month or so at least. The roads likely to be watched. Ill get word to you. Do you need any money?
I always need money, Sparhawk.
Theres some in the pocket of that tunic. Sparhawk pointed at his travel clothes draped across the back of a chair. Take what you need.
Kurik grinned at him.
Leave me a little, though.
Of course, my Lord, Kurik said with a mocking bow. Do you want me to pack up your things?
No. Ill be coming back here when Kalten arrives. Its a little hard to get in and out of the chapterhouse without being seen. Is the back door to that tavern still open?
It was yesterday. I drop in there from time to time.
I thought you might.
A man needs a few vices, Sparhawk. It gives him something to repent when he goes to chapel.
If Aslade hears that youve been drinking, shell set fire to your beard.
Then well just have to make sure that she doesnt hear about it, wont we, my Lord?
Why do I always get mixed up in your domestic affairs?
It keeps your feet planted in reality. Get your own wife, Sparhawk. Then other women wont feel obliged to take special note of you. A married man is safe. A bachelor is a constant challenge to any woman alive.
About half an hour later, Sparhawk and his squire went down the stairs into the courtyard, mounted their horses, and rode out through the gate. They clattered along the cobblestone streets towards the east gate of the city.
Were being watched, you know, Kurik said quietly.
I certainly hope so, Sparhawk replied. Id hate to have to ride around in circles until we attract somebodys attention.
They went through the ritual again at the drawbridge of the chapterhouse and then rode on into the courtyard. Berit was waiting for them.
This is Kurik, Sparhawk told him as he dismounted. The two of you will be going to Demos. Kurik, the young mans name is Berit.
The squire looked the acolyte up and down. Hes the right size, he noted. I might have to shorten a few straps, but your armour should come close to fitting him.
I thought so myself.
Another novice came out and took their reins.
Come along then, you two, Sparhawk said. Lets go and tell Vanion what were going to do, and then well put my armour on our masquerader here.
Berit looked startled.
Youre being promoted, Berit, Kurik told him. You see how quickly one can move up in the Pandions? Yesterday a novice; today Queens Champion.
Ill explain it to you when we see Vanion, Sparhawk told Berit. Its not so interesting a story that I want to go over it more than once.
It was midafternoon when the three of them emerged from the chapterhouse door again. Berit walked awkwardly in the unaccustomed armour, and Sparhawk was dressed in a plain tunic and hose.
I think its going to rain, Kurik said, squinting at the sky.
You wont melt, Sparhawk told him.
Im not worried about that, the squire replied. Its just that Ill have to scour the rust off your armour again.
Life is hard.
Kurik grunted, and then the two of them boosted Berit up into Farans saddle. Youre going to take this young man to Demos, Sparhawk told his horse. Try to behave as if it were me on your back.
Faran gave him an inquiring look.
It would take much too long to explain. Its entirely up to you, Faran, but hes wearing my armour, so if you try to bite him, youll probably break your teeth. Sparhawk turned to his squire. Say hello to Aslade and the boys for me, he said.
Right, Kurik nodded. Then he swung up into his saddle.
Dont make too big a show when you leave, Sparhawk added, but make sure that youre seen and make sure that Berit keeps his visor down.
I know what Im doing, Sparhawk. Come along then, my Lord, Kurik said to Berit.
My Lord?
You might as well get used to it, Berit. Kurik pulled his horse around. Ill see you, Sparhawk. Then the two of them rode out of the courtyard towards the drawbridge.
The rest of the day passed quietly. Sparhawk sat in the cell which Vanion had assigned to him, reading a musty old book. At sundown he joined the other brothers in the refectory for the simple evening meal, then marched in quiet procession with them to chapel. Sparhawks religious convictions were not profound, but there was again that sense of renewal involved in the return to the practices of his novitiate. Vanion conducted the services that evening and spoke at some length on the virtue of humility. In keeping with his long-standing practice, Sparhawk fell into a doze about halfway through the sermon.
He was awakened at the end of the sermon by the voice of an angel. A young knight with hair the colour of butter and a neck like a marble column lifted his clear tenor voice in a hymn of praise. His face shone, and his eyes were filled with adoration.
Was I really all that boring? Vanion murmured, falling in beside Sparhawk as they left the chapel.
Probably not, Sparhawk replied, but Im not really in any position to judge. Did you do the one about the simple daisy being as beautiful in the eyes of God as the rose?
Probably not, Sparhawk replied, but Im not really in any position to judge. Did you do the one about the simple daisy being as beautiful in the eyes of God as the rose?
Youve heard it before?
Frequently.
The old ones are the best.
Whos your tenor?
Sir Parasim. He just won his spurs.
I dont want to alarm you, Vanion, but hes too good for this world.
I know.
God will probably call him home very soon.
Thats Gods business, isnt it, Sparhawk?
Do me a favour, Vanion. Dont put me in a situation where Im the one who gets him killed.
Thats also Gods business. Sleep well, Sparhawk.
You, too, Vanion.
It was probably about midnight when the door to Sparhawks cell banged open. He rolled quickly out of his narrow cot and came to his feet with his sword in his hand.
Dont do that, the big blond-haired man in the doorway said in disgust. He was holding a candle in one hand and a wineskin in the other.
Hello, Kalten, Sparhawk greeted his boyhood friend. When did you get in?
About a half-hour ago. I thought I was going to have to scale the walls there for a while. He looked disgusted. Its peacetime. Why do they raise the drawbridge every night?
Probably out of habit.
Are you going to put that down? Kalten asked, pointing at the sword in Sparhawks hand, or am I going to have to drink this whole thing by myself?
Sorry, Sparhawk said. He leaned his plain sword against the wall.
Kalten set his candle on the small table in the corner, tossed the wineskin onto Sparhawks bed, and then caught his friend in a huge bear hug. Its good to see you, he declared.
And you, too, Sparhawk replied. Have a seat. He pointed at the stool by the table and sat down on the edge of his cot. How was Lamorkand?
Kalten made an indelicate sound. Cold, damp, and nervous, he replied. Lamorks are not my favourite people in the world. How was Rendor?
Sparhawk shrugged. Hot, dry, and probably just as nervous as Lamorkand.
I heard a rumour that you ran into Martel down there. Did you give him a nice funeral?
He got away.
Youre slipping, Sparhawk. Kalten unfastened the collar of his cloak. A great mat of curly blond hair protruded out of the neck of his mail coat. Are you going to sit on that wineskin all night? he asked pointedly.
Sparhawk grunted, unstoppered the skin and lifted it to his lips. Not bad, he said. Where did you get it? He handed the skin to his friend.
I picked it up in a wayside tavern about sundown, he replied. I remembered that all there is to drink in Pandion chapterhouses is water or tea, if Sephrenia happens to be around. Stupid custom.
We are a religious order, Kalten.
There are a half-dozen patriarchs in Chyrellos who get drunk as lords every night. Kalten lifted the wineskin and took a long drink. Then he shook the skin. I should have picked up two, he observed. Oh, by the way, Kurik was in the tavern with some young puppy wearing your armour.
I should have guessed that, Sparhawk said wryly.
Anyway, Kurik told me that you were here. I was going to spend the night there, but when I heard that youd come back from Rendor, I rode on the rest of the way.
Im touched.
Kalten laughed and handed back the wineskin.
Were Kurik and the novice staying out of sight? Sparhawk asked.
Kalten nodded. They were in one of the back rooms, and the young fellow was keeping his visor down. Have you ever seen anybody try to drink through his visor? Funniest thing I ever saw. There were a couple of local whores there, too. Your young Pandion might be getting an education along about now.
Hes due, Sparhawk observed.
I wonder if hell try to do that with his visor down as well.
Those girls are usually adaptable.
Kalten laughed. Anyhow, Kurik told me about the situation here. Do you really believe you can sneak around Cimmura without being recognized?
I was thinking along the lines of a disguise of some sort.
Better come up with a false nose, Kalten advised. That broken beak of yours makes you fairly easy to pick out of a crowd.
You should know, Sparhawk said. Youre the one who broke it.
We were only playing, Kalten said, sounding a bit defensive.
Ive got used to it. Well talk with Sephrenia in the morning. She should be able to come up with something in the way of disguises.
Id heard that she was here. How is she?
The same. Sephrenia never changes.
Truly. Kalten took another drink from the wineskin and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. You know, I think I was always a big disappointment to her. No matter how hard she tried to teach me the secrets, I just couldnt master the Styric language. Every time I tried to say ogeragekgasek, I almost dislocated my jaw.
Okeragukasek, Sparhawk corrected him.
However you say it. Ill just stick to my sword and let others play with magic. He leaned forward on his stool. They say that the Eshandists are on the rise again in Rendor. Is there any truth to that?
Its no particular danger. Sparhawk shrugged, lounging back on his cot. They howl and spin around in circles out in the desert and recite slogans to each other. Thats about as far as it goes. Is anything very interesting going on in Lamorkand?
Kalten snorted. All the barons there are involved in private wars with each other, he reported. The whole kingdom reeks with the lust for revenge. Would you believe that theres actually a war going on over a bee sting? An earl got stung and declared war on the baron whose peasants owned the hive. Theyve been fighting each other for ten years now.
Thats Lamorkand for you. Anything else happening?
The whole countryside east of Motera is crawling with Zemochs.
Sparhawk sat up quickly. Vanion did say that Otha was mobilizing.
Otha mobilizes every ten years. Kalten handed his friend the wineskin. I think he does it just to keep his people from getting restless.
Are the Zemochs doing anything significant in Lamorkand?
Not that I was able to tell. Theyre asking a lot of questions mostly about old folklore. You can find two or three of them in almost every village. They question old women and buy drinks for the loafers in the village taverns.
Peculiar, Sparhawk murmured.
Thats a fairly accurate description of just about anybody from Zemoch, Kalten said. Sanity has never been particularly prized there. He stood up. Ill go find a bed someplace, he said. I can drag it in here and we can talk old times until we both fall asleep.
All right.
Kalten grinned. Like the time your father caught us in that plum tree.
Sparhawk winced. Ive been trying to forget about that for almost thirty years now.
Your father did have a very firm hand, as I recall. I lost track of most of the rest of that day and the plums gave me a bellyache besides. Ill be right back. He turned and went out the door of Sparhawks cell.