LITMIR.BIZ

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tell Platime about it,’ the boy said. ‘He’ll get your money back. A half-crown? That’s outrageous.’ The boy was actually spluttering.

      Sparhawk remembered something. ‘Sephrenia, when I was on my way back here, something was out in the fog watching me. I don’t think it was human.’

      ‘The Damork?’

      ‘I couldn’t say for sure, but it didn’t feel the same. The Damork’s not the only creature subject to Azash, is it?’

      ‘No. The Damork is the most powerful, but it’s stupid. The other creatures don’t have its power, but they’re more clever. In many ways, they can be even more dangerous.’

      ‘All right, Sephrenia,’ Vanion said then, ‘I think you’d better give me Tanis’s sword now.’

      ‘My dear one –’ she began to protest, her face anguished.

      ‘We’ve had this argument once already tonight,’ he told her. ‘Let’s not go through it again.’

      She sighed. Then the two of them began to chant in unison in the Styric tongue. Vanion’s face turned a little greyer at the end when Sephrenia handed him the sword and their hands touched.

      ‘All right,’ Sparhawk said to Ulath after the transfer had been completed. ‘Where do we start? Where was King Sarak when his crown was lost?’

      ‘No one really knows,’ the big Genidian Knight replied. ‘He left Emsat when Otha invaded Lamorkand. He took a few retainers and left orders for the rest of his army to follow him to the battlefield at Lake Randera.’

      ‘Did anyone report having seen him there?’ Kalten asked.

      ‘Not that I’ve ever heard. The Thalesian army was seriously decimated, though. It’s possible that Sarak did get there before the battle started, but that none of the few survivors ever saw him.’

      ‘I expect that’s the place to start then,’ Sparhawk said.

      ‘Sparhawk,’ Ulath objected, ‘that battlefield is immense. All the Knights of the Church could spend the rest of their lives digging there and still not find the crown.’

      ‘There’s an alternative,’ Tynian said, scratching his chin.

      ‘And what is that, friend Tynian?’ Bevier asked him.

      ‘I have some skill at necromancy,’ Tynian told him. ‘I don’t like it much, but I know how it’s done. If we can find out where the Thalesians are buried, I can ask them if any of them saw King Sarak on the field and if any know where he might be buried. It’s exhausting, but the cause is worth it.’

      ‘I’ll be able to aid you, Tynian,’ Sephrenia told him. ‘I don’t practise necromancy myself, but I know the proper spells.’

      Kurik rose to his feet. ‘I’d better get the things we’ll need together,’ he said. ‘Come along, Berit. You too, Talen.’

      ‘There’ll be ten of us,’ Sephrenia told him.

      ‘Ten?’

      ‘We’ll be taking Talen and Flute along with us.’

      ‘Is that really necessary?’ Sparhawk objected. ‘Or even wise?’

      ‘Yes, it is. We’ll be seeking the aid of some of the Younger Gods of Styricum, and they like symmetry. We were ten when we began this search, so now we have to be the same ten every step of the way. Sudden changes disturb the Younger Gods.’

      ‘Anything you say.’ He shrugged.

      Vanion rose and began to pace up and down. ‘We’d better get started with this,’ he said. ‘It might be safer if you left the chapterhouse before daylight and before this fog lifts. Let’s not make it too easy for the spies who watch the house.’

      ‘I’ll agree with that,’ Kalten approved. ‘I’d rather not have to race Annias’s soldiers all the way to Lake Randera.’

      ‘All right, then,’ Sparhawk said, ‘let’s get at it. Time’s running a little short on us.’

      ‘Stay a moment, Sparhawk,’ Vanion said as they began to file out.

      Sparhawk waited until the others had left, and then he closed the door.

      ‘I received a communication from the Earl of Lenda this evening,’ the Preceptor told his friend.

      ‘Oh?’

      ‘He asked me to reassure you. Annias and Lycheas are taking no further action against the queen. Apparently the failure of their plot down in Arcium embarrassed Annias a great deal. He’s not going to take the chance of making a fool of himself again.’

      ‘That’s a relief.’

      ‘Lenda added something I don’t quite understand, though. He asked me to tell you that the candles are still burning. Do you have any idea what he meant by that?’

      ‘Good old Lenda,’ Sparhawk said warmly. ‘I asked him not to leave Ehlana sitting in the throne-room in the dark.’

      ‘I don’t think it makes much difference to her, Sparhawk.’

      ‘It does to me,’ Sparhawk replied.

      Chapter 2

      The fog was even thicker when they gathered in the courtyard a quarter of an hour later. The novices were busy in the stables saddling horses.

      Vanion came out through the main door, his Styric robe gleaming in the mist-filled darkness. ‘I’m sending twenty knights with you,’ he told Sparhawk quietly. ‘You might be followed, and they’ll offer some measure of protection.’

      ‘We need to hurry, Vanion,’ Sparhawk objected. ‘If we take others with us, we won’t be able to move any faster than the pace of the slowest horse.’

      ‘I know that, Sparhawk,’ Vanion replied patiently. ‘You won’t need to stay with them for very long. Wait until you’re out in open country and the sun comes up. Make sure nobody’s too close behind you and then slip away from the column. The knights will ride on to Demos. If anybody’s following, they won’t know you aren’t still in the middle of the column.’

      Sparhawk grinned. ‘Now I know how you got to be Preceptor, my friend. Who’s leading the column?’

      ‘Olven.’

      ‘Good. Olven’s dependable.’

      ‘Go with God, Sparhawk,’ Vanion said, clasping the big knight’s hand, ‘and be careful.’

      ‘I’m certainly going to try.’

      Sir Olven was a bulky Pandion Knight with a number of angry red scars on his face. He came out of the chapterhouse wearing full armour, enamelled black. His men trailed out behind him. ‘Good to see you again, Sparhawk,’ he said as Vanion went back inside. Olven spoke very quietly to avoid alerting the church soldiers camped outside the front gate. ‘All right,’ he went on, ‘you and the others ride in the middle of us. With this fog, those soldiers probably won’t see you. We’ll drop the drawbridge and go out fast. We don’t want to be in sight for more than a minute or two.’

      ‘That’s more words than I’ve heard you use at one time in the last twenty years,’ Sparhawk said to his normally silent friend.

      ‘I know,’ Olven agreed. ‘I’ll have to see if I can’t cut back a little.’

      Sparhawk and his friends wore mail-shirts and travellers’ cloaks, since formal armour attracts attention out in the countryside. Their armour, however, was carefully stowed in packs on the string of a half-dozen horses Kurik would lead. They mounted, and the armoured men formed up around them. Olven made a signal to the men at the windlass that raised and lowered the drawbridge, and the men slipped the rachets, allowing the windlass to run freely. There was a noisy rattle of chain,

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