Your mothers? Fine. Aslades still trying to fatten Elys up, but shes not having too much luck. How did you find out I was in town?
One of Platimes cut-throats saw you coming through the gate. He sent word.
I suppose I should have known. You didnt wake my wife, did you?
Not with Mirtai standing watch outside her door, I didnt. Give me that wet cloak, my Lord. Ill hang it in the kitchen to dry. Sparhawk grunted and removed his sodden cloak. The mail shirt too, Sparhawk, Khalad added, before it rusts away entirely. Sparhawk nodded, unbelted his sword and began to struggle out of his chain-mail shirt.
Hows your training going?
Khalad made an indelicate sound. I havent learned anything I didnt already know. My father was a much better instructor than the ones at the chapterhouse. This idea of yours isnt going to work, Sparhawk. The other novices are all aristocrats, and when my brothers and I outstrip them on the practice field, they resent it. We make enemies every time we turn around. He lifted the saddle from Farans back and put it on the rail of a nearby stall. He briefly laid his hand on the big roans back, then bent, picked up a handful of straw and began to rub him down.
Wake some groom and have him do that, Sparhawk told him. Is anybody still awake in the kitchen?
The bakers are already up, I think.
Have one of them throw something together for me to eat. Its been a long time since lunch.
All right. What took you so long in Chyrellos?
I took a little side trip into Lamorkand. The civil war theres getting out of hand, and the Archprelate wanted me to nose around a bit.
You should have got word to your wife. She was just about to send Mirtai out to find you. Khalad grinned at him. I think youre going to get yelled at again, Sparhawk.
Theres nothing new about that. Is Kalten here in the palace?
Khalad nodded. The foods better here, and he isnt expected to pray three times a day. Besides, I think hes got his eye on one of the chambermaids.
Khalad nodded. The foods better here, and he isnt expected to pray three times a day. Besides, I think hes got his eye on one of the chambermaids.
That wouldnt surprise me very much. Is Stragen here too?
No. Something came up, and he had to go back to Emsat.
Get Kalten up then. Have him join us in the kitchen. I want to talk with him. Ill be along in a bit. Im going to the bathhouse first.
The water wont be warm. They let the fires go out at night.
Were soldiers of God, Khalad. Were all supposed to be unspeakably brave.
Ill try to remember that, my Lord.
The water in the bathhouse was definitely on the chilly side, so Sparhawk did not linger very long. He wrapped himself in a soft white robe and went into the dim corridors of the palace and to the brightly-lit kitchens where Khalad waited with the sleepy-looking Kalten.
Hail, Noble Prince Consort, Kalten said drily. Sir Kalten obviously didnt care much for the idea of being roused in the middle of the night.
Hail, noble Boyhood Companion of the Noble Prince Consort, Sparhawk replied.
Now theres a cumbersome title, Kalten said sourly. Whats so important that it wont wait until morning?
Sparhawk sat down at one of the work tables, and a white-smocked baker brought him a plate of roast beef and a steaming loaf still hot from the oven.
Thanks, neighbour, Sparhawk said to him.
Where have you been, Sparhawk? Kalten demanded, sitting down across the table from his friend. Kalten had a wine flagon in one hand and a tin cup in the other.
Sarathi sent me to Lamorkand, Sparhawk replied, tearing a chunk of bread from the loaf.
Your wifes been making life miserable for everyone in the palace, you know.
Its nice to know she cares.
Not for any of the rest of us it isnt. What did Dolmant need from Lamorkand?
Information. He didnt altogether believe some of the reports hes been getting.
Whats not to believe? The Lamorks are just engaging in their national pastimecivil war.
There seems to be something a little different this time. Do you remember Count Gerrich?
The one who had us besieged in Baron Alstroms castle? I never met him personally, but his names sort of familiar.
He seems to be coming out on top in the squabbles in western Lamorkand, and most everybody up there believes that hes got his eye on the throne.
So? Kalten helped himself to part of Sparhawks loaf of bread. Every baron in Lamorkand has his eyes on the throne. Whats got Dolmant so concerned about it this time?
Gerrichs been making alliances beyond the borders of Lamorkand. Some of those border barons in Pelosia are more or less independent of King Saros.
Everybody in Pelosias independent of Saros. He isnt much of a king. He spends too much time praying.
Thats a strange position for a soldier of God, Khalad murmured.
Youve got to keep these things in perspective, Khalad, Kalten told him. Too much praying softens a mans brains.
Anyway, Sparhawk went on. if Gerrich succeeds in dragging those Pelosian barons into his bid for King Friedahls throne, Friedahls going to have to declare war on Pelosia. The Church already has a war going on in Render, and Dolmants not very enthusiastic about a second front. He paused. I ran across something else, though, he added. I overheard a conversation I wasnt supposed to. The name Drychtnath came up. Do you know anything about him?
Kalten shrugged. He was the national hero of the Lamorks some three or four thousand years ago. They say he was about twelve feet tall, ate an ox for breakfast every morning and drank a hogshead of mead every evening. The story has it that he could shatter rocks by scowling at them and reach up and stop the sun with one hand. The stories might be just a little bit exaggerated, though.
Very funny. The group I overheard were all telling each other that hes returned.
Thatd be a neat trick. I gather that his closest friend killed him. Stabbed him in the back and then ran a spear through his heart. You know how Lamorks are.
Thats a strange name, Khalad noted. What does it mean?
Drychtnath? Kalten scratched his head. Dreadnought, I think. Lamork mothers do that sort of thing to their children. He drained his cup and tipped his flagon over it. A few drops came out. Are we going to be much longer at this? he asked. if were going to sit up talking all night, Ill get more wine. To be honest with you though, Sparhawk, Id really rather go back to my nice warm bed.
And your nice warm chambermaid? Khalad added.
She gets lonesome, Kalten shrugged. His face grew serious. If the Lamorks are talking about Drychtnath again, it means that theyre starting to feel a little confined. Drychtnath wanted to rule the world, and any time the Lamorks start invoking his name, its a fair indication that theyre beginning to look beyond their borders for elbow room.
Sparhawk pushed back his plate. Its too late at night to start worrying about it now. Go back to bed, Kalten. You too, Khalad. We can talk more about this tomorrow. I really ought to go pay a courtesy call on my wife. He stood up.
Thats all? Kalten said. A courtesy call?
There are many forms of courtesy, Kalten.
The corridors in the palace were dimly illuminated by widely-spaced candles. Sparhawk went quietly past the throne-room to the royal apartments. As usual, Mirtai dozed in a chair beside the door. Sparhawk stopped and considered the Tamul giantess. When her face was in repose, she was heart-stoppingly beautiful. Her skin was golden in the candlelight, and her eyelashes were so long that they touched her cheeks. Her sword lay in her lap with her hand lightly enclosing its hilt.
Dont try to sneak up on me, Sparhawk. She said it without opening her eyes.
How did you know it was me?
I could smell you. All you Elenes seem to forget that you have noses.
How could you possibly smell me? I just took a bath.
Yes. I noticed that too. You should have taken the time to let the water heat up a little more.
Sometimes you amaze me, do you know that?
Youre easily amazed, Sparhawk. She opened her eyes. Where have you been? Ehlanas been nearly frantic.
How is she?
About the same. Arent you ever going to let her grow up? Im getting very tired of being owned by a child. In Mirtais own eyes, she was a slave, the property of the Queen Ehlana. This in no way hindered her in ruling the royal family of Elenia with an iron fist, arbitrarily deciding what was good for them and what was not. She had brusquely dismissed all the queens attempts to emancipate her, pointing out that she was an Atan Tamul, and that her race was temperamentally unsuited for freedom. Sparhawk tended strongly to agree with her, since he was fairly certain that if she were left to follow her instincts, Mirtai could depopulate several fair-sized towns in short order.
She stood up, rising to her feet with exquisite grace. She was a good four inches taller than Sparhawk, and he felt again that odd sense of shrinking as he looked up at her. What took you so long? she asked him.
I had to go to Lamorkand.
Was that your idea? or somebody elses?
Dolmant sent me.
Make sure Ehlana understands that right from the start. If she thinks you went there on your own, the fight will last for weeks, and all that wrangling gets on my nerves. She produced the key to the royal apartment and gave Sparhawk a blunt, direct look. Be very attentive, Sparhawk. Shes missed you a great deal, and she needs some tangible evidence of your affection. And dont forget to bolt the bedroom door. Your daughter might be just a little young to be learning about certain things. She unlocked the door.
Mirtai, do you really have to lock us all in every night?
Yes, I do. I cant get to sleep until I know that none of you is out wandering around the halls.
Sparhawk sighed. Oh, by the way, he added, Kring was in Chyrellos. I imagine hell be along in a few days to propose marriage to you again.
Its about time, she smiled. Its been three months since his last proposal. I was beginning to think he didnt love me any more.
Are you ever going to accept him?
Well see. Go wake up your wife, Sparhawk. Ill let you out in the morning. She gently pushed him on through the doorway and locked the door behind him.
Sparhawks daughter, Princess Danae, was curled up in a large chair by the fire. Danae was six years old now. Her hair was very dark, and her skin as white as milk. Her dark eyes were large, and her mouth a small pink bow. She was quite the little lady, her manner serious and very grown-up. Her constant companion, nonetheless, was a battered and disreputable-looking stuffed toy animal named Rollo. Rollo had descended to Princess Danae from her mother. As usual, Princess Danaes little feet had greenish grass-stains on them.