Krager smirked at him owlishly and then belched again.
Parnme, he said.
I cant really see any reason for this obsession of yours anyway, Scarpa continued to grind on his fathers most sensitive spot. Sephrenias only damaged goods now. Vanions had her dozens of times. Are you so poor-spirited that youd take the leavings of an Elene?
Zalasta suddenly smashed his fist against the stone wall with a snarl of frustration.
Hes probably so used to having her that he doesnt even waste his time murmuring endearments to her any more, Scarpa went on. He just takes what he wants from her, rolls over and starts to snore. You know how Elenes are when theyre in rut. And shes probably no better. Hes made an Elene out of her, Father. Shes not a Styric any more. Shes become an Eleneor even worse, a mongrel. Im really surprised to see you wasting all this pure emotion on a mongrel. He sneered. Shes no better than my mother or my sisters, and you know what they were.
Zalastas face twisted, and he threw back his head and actually howled. Id rather see her dead!
Scarpas pale, bearded face grew sly. Why dont you kill her then, Father? he asked in an insinuating whisper. Once a decent womans been bedded by an Elene, she can never be trusted again, you know. Even if you did persuade her to marry you, shed never be faithful. He laid an insincere hand on his arm. Kill her, Father, he advised. At least your memory of her will be pure, she never will be.
Zalasta howled again and clawed at his beard with his long nails. Then he turned quickly and ran off down the street.
Krager straightened, and his seeming drunkenness slid away. You took an awful chance there, you know, he said in a cautious tone.
Scarpa looked sharply at him. Very good, Krager, he murmmured. You played the part of a drunkard almost to perfection.
Ive had lots of practice, Krager shrugged. Youre lucky he didnt obliterate you, Scarpaor tie your guts in knots.
He couldnt, Scarpa smirked. Im a fair magician myself, you know, and Im skilled enough to know that you have to have a clear head to work the spells. I kept him in a state of rage. He couldnt have worked up enough magic to break a spider-web. Lets hope that he does kill Sephrenia. That should really scatter Sparhawks wits, not to mention the fact that as soon as the desire of his life is no more than a pile of dead meat, Zalastas very likely to conveniently cut his own throat.
You really hate him, dont you?
Wouldnt you, Krager? He could have taken me with him when I was a child, but hed come to visit for a while, and hed show me what it meant to be a Styric, and then hed go off alone, leaving me behind to be tormented by whores. If he doesnt have the stomach to cut his own throat, Id be more than happy to lend him a hand. Scarpas eyes were very bright, and he was smiling broadly. Wheres your wine barrel, Krager? he asked. Right now I feel like getting drunk. And he began to laugh, a long insane laugh empty of any mirth or humanity.
Its no use! Ehlana said, flinging the comb across the room. Look at what theyve done to my hair! She buried her face in her hands and wept.
Its not hopeless, my Lady, Alcan said in her soft voice. Theres a style they wear in Cammoria. She lifted the mass of blonde hair on the right side of Ehlanas head and brought it over across the top. You see, she said. It covers all the bare parts, and it really looks quite chic.
Ehlana looked hopefully into her mirror. It doesnt look too bad, does it? she conceded.
And if we set a flower just behind your right ear, it would really look very stunning.
Alcan, youre wonderful! the Queen exclaimed happily. What would I ever do without you?
And if we set a flower just behind your right ear, it would really look very stunning.
Alcan, youre wonderful! the Queen exclaimed happily. What would I ever do without you?
It took them the better part of an hour, but at last the unsightly bare places were covered, and Ehlana felt that some measure of her dignity had been restored.
That evening, however, Krager came to call. He stood swaying in the doorway, his eyes bleary and a drunken smirk on his face. Harvest-time again, Ehlana, he announced, drawing his dagger. It seems that Ill need just a bit more of your hair.
6
The sky remained overcast, but as luck had it, it had not yet rained. The stiff wind coming in off the Gulf of Micae was raw, however, and they rode with their cloaks wrapped tightly about them. Despite Khalads belief that it was to their advantage to move slowly, Berit was consumed with impatience. He knew that what they were doing was only a small part of the overall strategy, but the confrontation they all knew was coming loomed ahead, and he desperately wanted to get on with it.
How can you be so patient? he asked Khalad about midafternoon one day when the onshore wind was particularly chill and damp.
Im a farmer, Sparhawk, Khalad replied, scratching at his short black beard. Waiting for things to grow teaches you not to expect changes overnight.
I suppose Ive never really thought about what it must be like just sitting still waiting for things to sprout.
Theres not much sitting still when youre a farmer, Khalad told him. There are always more things to do than there are hours in the day, and if you get bored, you can always keep a close watch on the sky. A whole years work can be lost in a dry-spell or a sudden hailstorm.
I hadnt thought about that either. Berit mulled it over. Thats what makes you so good at predicting the weather, isnt it?
It helps.
Theres more to it than that, though. You always seem to know about everything thats going on around you. When we were on that log-boom, you knew instantly when there was the slightest change in the way it was moving.
Its called paying attention, my Lord. The world around you is screaming at you all the time, but most people cant seem to hear it. That really baffles me. I cant understand how you can miss so many things.
Berit was just slightly offended by that. All right, whats the world screaming at you right now that I cant hear?
Its telling me that were going to need some fairly substantial shelter tonight. Weve got bad weather coming.
How did you arrive at that?
Khalad pointed. You see those seagulls? he asked.
Yes. Whats that got to do with it?
Khalad sighed. What do seagulls eat, my Lord?
Just about everythingfish mostly, I suppose.
Then why are they flying inland? They arent going to find very many fish on dry land, are they? Theyve seen something they dont like out there in the gulf and theyre running away from it. Just about the only thing that frightens a seagull is windand the high seas that go with it. Theres a storm out to sea, and its coming this way. Thats what the worlds screaming at me right now.
Its just common sense then, isnt it?
Most things are, Sparhawkcommon sense and experience. Khalad smiled slightly. I can still feel Kragers Styric out there watching us. If he isnt paying any more attention than you were just now, hes probably going to spend a very miserable night.
Berit grinned just a bit viciously. Somehow that information fails to disquiet me, he said.
It was more than a village, but not quite a town. It had three streets, for one thing, and at least six buildings of more than one story, for another. The streets were muddy, and pigs roamed freely. The buildings were made primarily of wood and they were roofed with thatch. There was an inn on what purported to be the main street. It was a substantial-looking building, and there were a pair of rickety wagons with dispirited mules in their traces out front.
Ulath reined in the weary old horse he had bought in the fishing village. What do you think? he said to his friend.
I thought youd never ask, Tynian replied.
Lets go ahead and take a room as well, Ulath suggested. The afternoons wearing on anyway, and Im getting tired of sleeping on the ground. Besides, Im a little overdue for a bath.
Tynian looked toward the starkly outlined peaks of the Tamul Mountains lying some leagues to the west. Id really hate to keep the Trolls waiting, Ulath, he said with mock seriousness.
Its not as if we had a definite appointment with them. Trolls wouldnt notice anyway. Theyve got a very imprecise notion of time.
They rode on into the innyard, tied their horses to a rail outside the stable and went on into the inn.
We need a room, Ulath told the innkeeper in heavily accented Tamul.
The innkeeper was a small, furtive-looking man. He gave them a quick, appraising glance, noting the bits and pieces of army uniform that made up most of their dress. His expression hardened with distaste. Soldiers are frequently unwelcome in rural communities for any number of very good reasons. Well, he replied in a whining, sing-song sort of voice, I dont know. Its our busy season
Late autumn? Tynian broke in skeptically. Thats your busy season?
Wellthere are all the wagoneers who can come by at any time, you know.
Ulath looked beyond the innkeepers shoulder into the low, smoky taproom. I count three, he said flatly.
There are bound to be more along shortly, the fellow replied just a bit too quickly.
Of course there are, Tynian said sarcastically. But were here now, and weve got money. Are you going to gamble a sure thing against the remote possibility that some wagon might stop here along about midnight?
He doesnt want to do business with a couple of pensioned-off veterans, Corporal, Ulath said. Lets go talk with the local commissioner. Im sure hell be very interested in the way this fellow treats his Imperial Majestys soldiers.
Im his Imperial Majestys loyal subject, the innkeeper said quickly and Ill be honored to have brave veterans of his army under my roof.
How much? Tynian cut him off.
A half-crown?
He doesnt seem very certain. does he, Sergeant? Tynian asked his friend. I think you misunderstood, he said then to the nervous innkeeper. We dont want to buy the room. We just want to rent it for one night.
Ulath was staring hard at the now-frightened little Tamul. Eight pence, he countered with a note of finality.