LITMIR.BIZ

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dirty and he smells bad too,’ Talen added. ‘He chased me down a street once in Cammoria, and the odour almost knocked me off my feet.’

      ‘You think Martel might be with them?’ Tynian asked hopefully.

      ‘I doubt it,’ Sparhawk said. ‘I think I nailed his foot to the floor down in Rendor. It’s my guess that he set things up here in Lamorkand and then went to Rendor to hatch things there. Then he sent Krager and Adus back here to set things in motion.’

      ‘I think the world would be better off without this Martel of yours,’ Alstrom said.

      ‘We’re going to do what we can to arrange that, My Lord,’ Ulath rumbled.

      A few moments later, Sephrenia and Flute returned.

      ‘Did you find the things you need?’ Sparhawk asked.

      ‘Most of them,’ she replied. ‘I can make the others.’ She looked at Ortzel. ‘You might wish to retire, Your Grace,’ she suggested. ‘I don’t want to offend your sensibilities.’

      ‘I will remain, Madame,’ he said coldly. ‘Perhaps my presence will prevent this abomination from coming to pass.’

      ‘Perhaps, but I rather doubt it.’ She pursed her lips and looked critically at the small earthen jar she had carried from the kitchen. ‘Sparhawk,’ she said, ‘I’m going to need an empty barrel.’

      He went to the door and spoke with the guard.

      Sephrenia walked to the table and picked up a crystal goblet. She spoke at some length in Styric, and with a soft rustling sound, the goblet was suddenly filled with a powder that looked much like lavender sand.

      ‘Outrageous,’ Ortzel muttered.

      Sephrenia ignored him. ‘Tell me, My Lord,’ she said to Alstrom, ‘you have pitch and naphtha, I assume.’

      ‘Of course. They’re a part of the castle’s defences.’

      ‘Good. If this is to work, we’re going to need them.’

      The soldier entered, rolling a barrel.

      ‘Right here, please,’ she instructed, pointing to a spot away from the fire.

      He set the barrel upright, saluted the baron and left.

      Sephrenia spoke briefly to Flute. The little girl nodded and lifted her pipes. Her melody was strange, hypnotic and languorous.

      The Styric woman stood over the barrel, speaking in Styric and holding the jar in one hand and the goblet in the other. Then she began to pour their contents into the barrel. The pungent spices in the jar and the lavender sand in the goblet came spilling out, but neither vessel emptied. The two streams, mixing as they fell, began to glow, and the room was suddenly filled with star-like glitterings that soared, firefly-like, and sparkled on the walls and ceiling. Minute after minute the small woman poured on and on from the two seemingly inexhaustible containers.

      It took nearly half an hour to fill the barrel. ‘There,’ Sephrenia said at last, ‘that should be enough.’ She looked down into the glowing barrel.

      Ortzel was making strangling sounds.

      She put the two containers far apart on the table. ‘I wouldn’t let these two get mixed together, My Lord,’ she cautioned Alstrom, ‘and keep them away from any kind of fire.’

      ‘What are we doing here?’ Tynian asked her.

      ‘We must drive the Seeker away, Tynian. We’ll mix what’s in this barrel with naphtha and pitch and load the baron’s siege engines with the mixture. Then we’ll ignite it and throw it in amongst Count Gerrich’s troops. The fumes will force them to withdraw, temporarily at least. That’s not the main reason we’re doing it, however. The Seeker has a much different breathing apparatus from that of humans. While the fumes are noxious to humans, to the Seeker they’re lethal. It will either flee or die.’

      ‘That sounds encouraging,’ he said.

      ‘Was it really all so very terrible, Your Grace?’ she asked Ortzel. ‘It’s going to save your life, you know.’

      His face was troubled. ‘I had always thought that Styric sorcery was mere trickery, but there was no way you could have done what I just saw by charlatanism. I will pray on this matter. I will seek guidance from God.’

      ‘I wouldn’t take too long, Your Grace,’ Kalten advised. ‘If you do, it could be that you’ll arrive in Chyrellos just in time to kiss the ring of the Archprelate Annias.’

      ‘That must never happen,’ Alstrom declared sternly. ‘The siege at the gates is my concern, Ortzel, not yours. Therefore I must regretfully withdraw my hospitality. You will leave my castle just as soon as it’s convenient.’

      ‘Alstrom!’ Ortzel gasped. ‘This is my home. I was born here.’

      ‘But our father left it to me. Your proper home is in the Basilica of Chyrellos. I advise you to go there at once.’

      Chapter 6

      ‘We’ll need to go to the highest point in your castle, My Lord,’ Sephrenia said after the Patriarch of Kadach had angrily stormed from the room.

      ‘That would be the north tower,’ he replied.

      ‘And can one see the besieging army from there?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Good. First, however, we must give your soldiers instructions on how to proceed with this.’ She pointed at the barrel. ‘All right, gentlemen,’ she said crisply, ‘don’t just stand there. Pick the barrel up and bring it along, and whatever you do, don’t drop it or get it near any fire.’

      Her instructions to the soldiers manning the catapults were fairly simple, explaining the proper mixture of the powder, naphtha and pitch. ‘Now,’ she went on, ‘listen very carefully. Your own safety depends on this. Do not set fire to the naphtha until the last possible instant, and if any of the smoke blows in your direction, hold your breath and run. Under no circumstances breathe any of those fumes.’

      ‘Will they kill us?’ one soldier asked in a frightened voice.

      ‘No, but they’ll make you ill and confuse your minds. Cover your noses and mouths with damp cloths. That may protect you a bit. Wait for the baron’s signal from the north tower.’ She tested the wind direction. ‘Hurl the burning material to the north of those troops on the causeway,’ she told them, ‘and don’t forget to throw some at those ships in the river as well. Very well then, Baron Alstrom. Let’s go to the tower.’

      As it had been for the last several days, the sky was cloudy, and a brisk wind whistled through the unpaned embrasures of the north tower. Like all such purely defensive constructions, the tower was severely utilitarian. The besieging army of Count Gerrich looked oddly ant-like, a mass of tiny men with armour glinting the colour of pewter in the pale light. Despite the height of the tower, an occasional crossbow bolt chinked against its weathered stones.

      ‘Be careful,’ Sparhawk murmured to Sephrenia as she thrust her head out of one of the embrasures to peer at the troops massed before the gate.

      ‘There’s no danger,’ she assured him as the wind whipped at her hooded white robe. ‘My Goddess protects me.’

      ‘You can believe in your Goddess all you want,’ he replied, ‘but your safety is my responsibility. Have you any idea of what Vanion would do to me if I let you get hurt?’

      ‘And that’s only after I got through with him,’ Kalten growled.

      She stepped back from the embrasure and stood tapping one finger thoughtfully against her pursed lips.

      ‘Forgive me, Madame,’ Alstrom said. ‘I recognize the necessity of chasing off that creature out there, but a purely temporary withdrawal of Gerrich’s troops won’t really do us all that much

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