‘Oh, yes, now I remember. And you said that the whole scheme – the attempt to murder the count and to lay the blame on the Pandions might have originated with a Styric magician.’
‘Perhaps it goes a little farther than that. We know that Martel has had contacts with a Damork, and that means that Azash is involved somehow Azash has always dealt with Styrics, so he’s had very little experience with the subtleties of the Elene mind. The Gods of Styricum are very direct, and they seldom prepare for contingencies – probably because of the Styric lack of sophistication. Now, the whole purpose of the plot in Arcium and the one in Rendor has been to keep the Church Knights out of Chyrellos during the election. Annias behaved the way a Styric would have in the palace at Cimmura, and Martel behaved the same way in Arasham’s tent.’
‘You’re a little inconsistent, Sephrenia,’ he objected. ‘First you try to tell me that Styrics are unsophisticated, then you come up with an explanation so complicated that I can’t even follow it. Why don’t you just say what you mean?’
‘Azash has always dominated the minds of his followers, ’ she replied, ‘and for the most part, they’ve been Styrics. If Annias and Martel both start behaving like Styrics, it raises some very interesting possibilities, wouldn’t you say?’
‘I’m sorry, Sephrenia, but I can’t accept that. Whatever other faults he may have, Martel’s still an Elene; and Annias is a churchman. Neither one of them would give his soul to Azash.’
‘Not consciously, perhaps, but Azash has ways to subvert the minds of people he finds useful.’
‘Where does all this lead?’
‘I’m not entirely sure, but it seems that Azash has some reason to want Annias to be the new Archprelate It’s something we might want to keep in mind. If Azash is controlling Annias and Martel, they’re both going to be thinking like Styrics, and Styrics don’t react very fast when they’re surprised. It’s a racial trait. Surprise could be our best weapon.’
‘Was that why you were so angry with me – because I surprised you?’
‘Of course. I thought you knew that.’
‘Next time, I’ll try to warn you.’
‘I’d appreciate that.’
Two days later their ship entered the estuary of the River Ucera and sailed up towards the Elenian port city of Vardenais. As they approached the wharves, however, Sparhawk saw trouble. Men in red tunics were patrolling the waterfront.
‘Now what?’ Kurik asked as the two of them crouched behind a low deckhouse to keep out of sight.
Sparhawk frowned. ‘I suppose we could sail across the bay and go inland on the Arcian side.’
‘If they’re watching the seaports, they’re bound to be patrolling the border as well. Use your head, Sparhawk.’
‘Maybe we could slip across at night.’
‘Isn’t what we’re doing a little too important to hang it all on a “maybe”?’ Kurik asked pointedly.
Sparhawk started to swear. ‘We’ve got to get to Cimmura,’ he said. ‘It’s getting close to the time when another of the twelve knights is going to die, and I don’t know how much more of the weight Sephrenia can carry. Think, Kurik. You’re always better at tactics than I am.’
‘That’s because I don’t wear armour. The sense of invincibility does funny things to a man’s brains.’
‘Thanks,’ Sparhawk said dryly.
Kurik knit his brows in thought.
‘Well?’ Sparhawk said impatiently.
‘I’m working on it. Don’t rush me.’
‘We’re getting closer to the wharf, Kurik.’
‘I can see that. Can you tell if they’re searching any of the ships?’
Sparhawk raised his head and peered over the top of the deckhouse ‘They don’t seem to be.’
‘Good. That means we won’t have to make any spur-of-the-moment decisions. We can go below and work this out.’
‘Any ideas at all?’
‘You’re pushing, Sparhawk,’ Kurik said disapprovingly. ‘That’s one of your failings, you know You always want to dash into the middle of things before you’ve thought your way completely through what you’re going to do.’
Their ship hove to beside a tar-smeared wharf, and the sailors cast lines to the longshoremen clustered there. Then they ran out the gangway and began to carry boxes and bales down to the wharf.
There was a clattering sound from the hold, and Faran trotted up on deck. Sparhawk stared at his war horse in amazement. Flute sat cross-legged on the big roan’s broad back playing her pipes. The melody she played was a peculiarly drowsy one, almost like a lullaby. Before Sparhawk and Kurik could run to intercept her, she tapped Faran’s back with the side of her foot, and he placidly walked down the gangway to the wharf.
‘What is she doing?’ Kurik exclaimed.
‘I can’t even begin to guess. Get Sephrenia – fast!’
On the wharf, Flute rode directly towards the squad of church soldiers stationed at the far end. The soldiers had been closely examining every disembarking passenger and sailor, but they paid no attention to Flute and the roan horse She impudently rode back and forth in front of them several times, then turned. She seemed to be looking directly at Sparhawk and, still playing her pipes, she raised one little hand and motioned to him.
He stared at her.
She made a little face and then quite deliberately rode directly through the soldiers’ ranks. They absently stepped aside for her, but not one of them so much as looked at her.
‘What’s going on down there?’ he demanded as Sephrenia and Kurik joined him behind the deckhouse.
‘I’m not altogether sure,’ Sephrenia replied, frowning.
‘Why aren’t the soldiers paying any attention to her?’ Kurik asked as Flute rode through the ranks of red tunics once again.
‘I don’t think they can see her.’
‘But she’s right there in front of them.’
‘That doesn’t seem to matter.’ Her face slowly took on an expression of wonder. ‘I’d heard about this,’ she murmured. ‘I thought it was just an old folk tale, but perhaps I was wrong.’ She turned to Sparhawk. ‘Has she looked back at the ship at all since she rode down onto that wharf?’
‘She sort of motioned to me to follow her,’ he said.
‘You’re sure?’