Where did the one in the armor come from? Ulath asked.
He was hiding in the crowd, Talen explained. The whole thing was at about the same level as youd find at a country fair one thats held a long way from the nearest town.
Where did the one in the armor come from? Ulath asked.
He was hiding in the crowd, Talen explained. The whole thing was at about the same level as youd find at a country fair one thats held a long way from the nearest town.
The one who was pretending to be Incetes gave a fairly stirring speech, though, Ulath noted.
It certainly should have been, Bevier smiled. It was written by Phalactes in the seventh century.
Who was he? Talen asked.
Phalactes was the greatest playwright of antiquity. That stirring speech came directly from one of his tragedies, Etonicus. That fellow in the antique armor substituted a few words is all. The plays a classic. Its still performed at universities once in a while.
Youre a whole library all by yourself, Bevier, Kalten told him. Do you remember every single thing youve ever read word for word?
Bevier laughed. I wish I could, my friend. Some of my classmates and I put on a performance of Etonicus when I was a student. I played the lead, so I had to memorize that speech. The poetry of Phalactes is really very stirring. He was a great artistArcian, naturally.
I never liked him very much, Flute sniffed. He was as ugly as sin; he smelled like an open cesspool; and he was a howling bigot.
Bevier swallowed hard. Please dont do that, Aphrael, he said. Its very unsettling.
What was the story about? Talen asked, his eyes suddenly eager.
Etonicus was supposed to be the ruler of a mythic kingdom somewhere in whats now eastern Cammoria, Bevier replied. The legend has it that he went to war with the Styrics over religion.
What happened? Talens tone was almost hungry.
He came to a bad end, Bevier shrugged. Its a tragedy, after all.
But...
You can read it for yourself sometime, Talen, Vanion said firmly. This isnt the story hour.
Talens face grew sulky.
Id be willing to wager that you could paralyze our young friend here in mid-theft, Ulath chuckled. All youd have to do is say, Once upon a time, and hed stop dead in his tracks.
This throws a whole new light on whats been happening here in Tamul, Vanion mused. Could this all be some vast hoax? He looked inquiringly at Flute.
She shook her head. No, Vanion. There has been magic of varying levels in some of the things weve encountered.
Some perhaps, but not all, certainly. Was there any magic at all involved in what we saw tonight?
Not a drop.
Is that how you measure magic? Kalten asked curiously. Does it come by the gallon?
Like cheap wine, you mean? she suggested tartly. Well, not exactly, but...
This was very important, Sparhawk said. Thank you, Aphrael.
I live but to serve. She smiled mockingly at him.
Stop that.
Youve missed me entirely, Sparhawk, Kalten said.
Weve just found out that not everything thats being reported back to Matherion is the result of real magic. Theres a fair amount of fraud mixed in as well. What does that suggest?
The other sides lazy. Kalten shrugged.
Im not so sure, Ulath disagreed. Theyre not afraid to exert themselves when its important.
Two, Sephrenia said. Three at the most.
I beg your pardon? Ulath said with a puzzled look.
Now do you see how exasperating that is, Ulath? she said to him. This charade we watched here tonight rather strongly hints at the fact that there arent very many people who can really work spells on the other side. Theyre spread out a bit thin, Id say. Whats going on here in Edamand probably in Astel and Daconia as wellis rather commonplace, so they dont feel that they have to waste magic on it.
Commonplace or not, its going to seriously hinder Tynian when he tries to lead the Church Knights across Daresia to Matherion, Sparhawk said. If Rebal can stir up the whole kingdom the way he did this group tonight, Tynians going to have to wade his way through hordes of howling fanatics. The Edomish peasantrys going to be convinced that our brothers are coming here to impose heresies on them by force, and theyll be lurking behind every bush with sickles and pitchforks.
We still have a certain advantage, though, Bevier said thoughtfully. Theres no way that our enemies can possibly know that were here in Edam and that we saw this business tonight. Even if they were to know that were going to raise Bhelliomwhich isnt very likelythey wouldnt know where it is, so theyd have no idea where we were going. Even we dont know where were going.
And even if they did, they wouldnt know that we could get here as quickly as we did, Khalad added. I think weve got the jump on them, my Lords. If theyre relying on hoaxes here, that probably means that they dont have any magicians around to sniff us out. If we can pass ourselves off as ordinary travelers, we should be able to move around without much hindrance and pick up all sorts of information in the process.
Were here to retrieve the Bhelliom, Khalad, Flute reminded him.
Of course, but theres no point in passing up little treasures as we go along, is there?
Aphrael, Vanion said, have we seen and heard everything we were supposed to? She nodded. I think we might want to move on to Jorsan rather quickly, then. If Khalads right and were one jump ahead, lets stay that way. What would it take in the way of bribes to persuade you to speed up the journey?
We could negotiate that, I suppose, Lord Vanion, she smiled. Im sure you could all offer me something that might induce me to lend a hand.
They kissed the Child Goddess into submission and arrived in Jorsan late the following day. Jorsan turned out to be a typical Elene port-city squatting at the head of the gulf. The question of suitable disguises had arisen during the journey. Bevier had leaned strongly in the direction of posing as religious pilgrims. Kalten had liked the notion of masquerading as a group of rowdies in search of constructive debauchery, while Talen, perhaps influenced by Rebals recent performance, had thought it might be fun to pose as traveling players. They were still arguing about it when Jorsan came into view.
Isnt all this a waste of time? Ulath asked them. Why should we play dress-up? Its not really anybodys business who we are, is it? As long as were not wearing armor, the people in Jorsan wont knowor careabout us. Why go to all the trouble of lying about it?
Well need to wear our mail-shirts, Sir Ulath, Berit reminded him. How do we explain that?
We dont. Lots of people wear chain-mail and carry weapons, so its not really that unusual. If somebody in town gets too curious about who we are and where were going, I can make him get un-curious in fairly short order. He held up his hand and closed his fist suggestively.
You mean just bully our way through? Kalten asked.
Why not? Isnt that what were trained for?
The inn was not particularly elegant, but it was clean and not so near the waterfront that the streets around it were filled with bawling sailors lurching from ale-house to ale-house. The sleeping -rooms were upstairs over the common-room on the main floor, and the stables were in the back.
Let me handle this, Ulath muttered to Sparhawk as they approached the innkeeper, a tousled fellow with a long, pointed nose.
Feel free, Sparhawk replied.
You, Ulath said abruptly to the innkeeper, we need five rooms for the night, fodder for ten horses, and some decent food.
I can provide all those, good master, the innkeeper assured him.
Good. How much?
Ah... The man with the pointed nose rubbed at his chin, carefully appraising the big Thalesians clothes and general appearance. That would be a half-crown, good master, he said somewhat tentatively. His rates seemed to be based on a sliding scale of some sort.
Ulath turned on his heel. Lets go, he said shortly to Sparhawk.
What was I thinking of? the innkeeper said, slapping his forehead. That was five rooms and fodder for ten horses, wasnt it? I got the numbers turned around in my head. I thought you wanted ten rooms for some reason. A half-crown would be far too much for only five rooms. The right price would be two silver imperials, of course.
Im glad you got your mathematics straightened out, Ulath grunted. Lets look at the rooms.
Of course, good master. The innkeeper scurried on up the stairs ahead of them.
You dont leave very many conversational openings, do you, my friend? Sparhawk chuckled.
Ive never found innkeepers very interesting to talk with.
They reached an upper hallway, and Ulath looked into one of the rooms. Check it for bugs, he told Sparhawk.
Good master! the innkeeper protested.
I like to sleep alone, Ulath told him. Bugs crowd me, and theyre always restless at night.
The innkeeper laughed a bit weakly. Thats very funny, good master. Ill have to remember it. Where is it you come from, and where are you bound?
Ulath gave him a long, icy stare, his blue eyes as chill as a northern winter and his shoulders swelling ominously as he bunched them under his tunic.
Ahno matter, I suppose, the innkeeper rushed on. Its not really any of my affair, is it?
Youve got that part right, Ulath said. He looked around. Good enough, he said. Well stay. He nudged Sparhawk with his elbow. Pay him, he said, turned, and clumped down the stairs.
They turned their horses over to the grooms and carried their saddle-bags up to the sleeping-rooms. Then they went back downstairs for supper. Kalten, as usual, heaped his plate with steaming beef.
Maybe we should send out for another cow, Berit joked.
Hes young, Kalten told the others jovially, but I like the way he thinks. He grinned at Berit, but then the grin slowly faded, and the big, blond Pandion grew quite pale. He stared at the young knights face for quite some time. Then he abruptly pushed his plate back and rose to his feet.
I dont think Im really hungry, he said. Im tired. Im going to bed. He turned, quickly crossed the common-room to the stairs, and went up them two at a time.
Whats the matter with him? Ulath asked in a puzzled tone. Ive never seen him walk away from supper like that before.