‘Thank God!’
‘You’re welcome,’ Aphrael said, ‘but it was really Bhelliom’s idea. We still have some problems, though. Vanion’s encounter with Klæl’s army cost him about half of his knights.’
‘That’s disastrous! We won’t be able to hold Samar without those knights!’
‘Don’t be quite so sure, Itagne,’ she said. I just received a garbled message from a Pandion named Anosian. He’s in Samar, and Kring and Tikume have discovered something about Klæl’s soldiers. I’ll run down there and find out what’s going on.’
‘Klæl’s keeping an eye on Berit and Khalad,’ sparhawk continued. ‘They saw him while they were crossing the Sea of Arjun,’ He rubbed at the side of his face. ‘Can you think of anything else, Aphrael?’
‘Lots of things,’ she replied, ‘but they don’t have anything to do with what we’re doing here.’ She kissed Itagne and slipped down out of his lap. ‘I shouldn’t be too long,’ she told them. ‘If Vanion gets here before I come back, break the news about Sephrenia to him gently and tell him that’s she’s all right now. Keep a grip on him, gentlemen. It’s wintertime, and you need the roof on this building.’ She went to the door, opened it, and vanished as she stepped through.
Tiana lay on the north shore of the large lake known as the Sea of Arjun. It was a bustling Tamul town with an extensive harbor. As soon as the scruffy lake-freighter docked, Berit and Khalad led their horses ashore and mounted. ‘What was the name of that inn again?’ Khalad asked.
‘The White Gull,’ Berit replied.
‘Poetic,’ Khalad noted.
‘The other names had probably already been used up. You can only have so many lions and dragons and boars in one town before people start to get confused.’
‘Krager’s starting to give us more specific instructions in those notes,’ Khalad said. ‘When he sent us to Sopal, he just gave us the name of the town. Now he’s picking our accommodations for us. That might mean that we’re getting closer to the end of this little excursion.’
‘Sir Ulath said that they’re going to send us to Arjuna from here.’
‘If I’d known we were going to spend so much time wandering around this lake, I’d have brought a fishing line.’
‘I’m not really all that fond of fish, myself.’
‘Who is? It’s an excuse to get out of the house is about all. My brothers and I found that if we laid around the house too long, our mothers started finding things for us to do.’
‘You’ve got a strange family, Khalad. Most men only have one mother.’
‘It was Father’s idea. There’s the White Gull.’ Khalad pointed up the street.
The inn was surprisingly clean and substantial. It had a well-maintained stable, and the rooms were neat almost to the point of fussiness. The two young men saw to their horses, dropped their saddlebags off in their room, and took advantage of the bath-house adjoining the rear of the inn. Then, feeling much improved, they adjourned to the taproom to pass the time until supper. Khalad rose and closely examined the porcelain stove. ‘It’s an interesting idea,’ he told Berit. ‘I wonder if it’d catch on in Eosia.’
‘I sort of like looking at the fire myself,’ Berit replied.
‘You can stare at the candles, if that’s all you want. A fireplace isn’t very efficient, and it makes an awful mess. A stove’s a lot more practical – and you can cook on it. When we get home, I think I’ll build one for my mothers.’
Berit laughed. ‘If you start tearing up their kitchen, they’ll take their brooms to you.’
‘I don’t think so. The notion of a stew that doesn’t have cinders floating in it might appeal to them.’
The man who approached their table wore a hooded smock, and the hood partially concealed his face. ‘You don’t mind if I join you, do you?’ he asked, sitting down and pushing the hood back slightly.
It was the same Styric they had last seen on the shore of the Gulf of Micae.
‘You made good time, neighbor,’ Berit said. ‘Of course, you knew where you were going, and we didn’t.’
‘How long did it take you to get dry?’ Khalad asked him.
‘Shall we skip the pleasantries?’ the Styric said coldly. ‘I have further instructions for you.’
‘You mean you didn’t stop by just to renew our acquaintance?’ Khalad said. ‘I’m crushed.’
‘Very funny.’ The Styric hesitated. ‘I'm going to reach into my pocket for the note, so don’t start drawing your knives.’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it, old boy,’ Khalad drawled.
‘This is for you, Sparhawk.’ The Styric handed Berit the sealed parchment.
Berit took the parchment and broke the seal. He carefully lifted out the identifying lock of the Queen’s hair and read aloud, ‘Sparhawk. Go overland to Arjun. You’ll receive further instructions there. Krager.’
‘He must have been drunker than usual,’ Khalad observed. ‘He didn’t bother with all the snide little comments this time. Just out of curiosity, friend, why didn’t he send us straight on to Arjun from Sopal? He could have saved everybody a great deal of time.’
‘That’s really none of your business, Elene. Just do as you’re told.’
‘I’m a peasant, Styric, so I’m used to doing that. Prince Sparhawk here might get a little impatient, though, and that makes him bad-tempered.’ Khalad squinted at the lumpy-faced messenger. ‘Since the subject’s come up anyway, I’ve got a word of friendly advice for you, old boy. It’s about twenty days on horseback from here to Arjun. He’s going to be very unpleasant by the time he gets there. If you should happen to be the one who delivers the next message, I wouldn’t get too close to him.’
‘I think we can come up with a way for him to work off his bad temper,’ the Styric sneered. ‘You don’t have twenty days to get to Arjun. You have fourteen,’ He stood up. ‘Don’t be late.’ He turned and started toward the door.
‘Let’s go,’ Khalad said.
‘Where?’
‘After him.’
‘What for?’
Khalad sighed. ‘To shake him down, Berit,’ he explained with exaggerated patience. ‘I want to strip him and go through his clothes. He might just have the next message on him.’