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"Customs change. Get what you'll need and come along. They're at the inn just up the street."
"This is outrageous, Sir Knight."
"We're not going to argue about this, are we, neighbour?"
Sparhawk's voice was deadly quiet.
The physician flinched back. "Ah - no. I don't believe so. I'll make an exception in this case."
"I was hoping you'd feel that way."
The physician rose quickly. "I'll get my instruments and some medicines. What sort of injuries are we talking about?"
"One of them has some broken ribs. Another seems to be bleeding inside somewhere. The third suffers mostly from exhaustion."
"Exhaustion is easily cured. Just have your friend spend several days in bed."
"He doesn't have time. Just give him something that'll get him back on his feet."
"How did they receive these injuries?"
"Church business," Sparhawk said shortly.
"I'm always eager to serve the Church."
"You've got no idea of how happy that makes me."
Sparhawk led the reluctant physician back up the street to the inn and on up to the second floor. He drew Sephrenia aside as the healer began his examinations.
"It's a little late," he said to her. "Why don't we hold off on visiting the tanner until morning? I don't think we want him to be rushed. He might forget things we need to know."
"Truly," she agreed. "Besides, I want to be sure this physician knows what he's doing. He looks a little unreliable to me."
"He'd better be reliable. He's already got a fair idea of what's going to happen to him if he isn't."
"Oh, Sparhawk," she said reprovingly.
"It's really a very simple arrangement, little mother. He fully understands that either they get healthy, or he gets sick. That sort of encourages him to do his best."
Pelosian cooking, Sparhawk had noticed, leaned heavily in the direction of boiled cabbage, beets and turnips, only lightly garnished with salt pork. The latter, of course, was totally unacceptable to Sephrenia and Flute, and so the two made a meal of raw vegetables and boiled eggs. Kalten, however, ate everything in sight.
It was after dark when Talen arrived at the inn.
"They're still following us, Sparhawk," he reported, "only there are a lot more of them now. I saw maybe forty of them on top of that hill just south of town, and they're on horses now. They stopped at the hilltop and looked things over. Then they pulled back into the woods."
"That's a little more serious than just four, isn't it?"
Kalten said.
"It is indeed," Sparhawk agreed. "Any ideas, Sephrenia?"
She frowned. "We haven't really been moving all that fast," she said. "If they're on horseback, they could have caught up with us without much trouble. I'd guess that they're just following us. Azash seems to know something that we don't. He's been trying to kill you for months, but now He sends His people out with orders to just follow us at a distance."
"Can you think of any reason for the change in tactics?"
"Several, but they're all pure speculation."
"We'll have to be alert when we leave town," Kalten said.
"Maybe doubly alert," Tynian added. "They might be just biding their time until we come to a deserted stretch of road where they can ambush us."
"That's a cheerful thought," Kalten said wryly. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to bed.
The sun was very bright again the following morning, and a freshening breeze blew in off the lake. Sparhawk dressed in his mail-shirt, a plain tunic and woollen leggings. Then he and Sephrenia rode out from the inn towards the north gate of Paler and the tanyard of the man named Berd. The people in the street appeared for the most part to be common workmen carrying a variety of tools. They wore sober blue smocks and the tall, pointed hats.
"I wonder if they realize just how silly those things look," Sparhawk murmured.
"Which things were those?" Sephrenia asked him.
"Those hats. They look like dunce-caps."
"They're no more ridiculous than those plumed hats the courtiers in Cimmura wear."
"I suppose you're right."
The tanyard was some distance beyond the north gate, and it smelled vile. Sephrenia wrinkled her nose as they approached. "This is not going to be a pleasant morning," she predicted.
"I'll cut it as short as I can," Sparhawk promised.
The tanner was a heavy-set bald man wearing a canvas ap.r.o.n stained with dark brown splotches. He was stirring at a large vat with a long Paddle as Sparhawk and Sephrenia rode into his yard. "I'll be right with you," he said. His voice sounded like gravel being poured across a slate. He stirred for a moment or two longer, looking critically into the vat. Then he laid aside his paddle and came towards them, wiping his hands on his ap.r.o.n.
"How can I help you?" he asked.
Sparhawk dismounted and helped Sephrenia down from her white palfrey. "We were talking with a farmer named Wat down in Lamorkand," he told the tanner. "He said you might be able to help us."
"Old Wat?" The tanner laughed. "Is he still alive?"
"He was three days ago. You're Berd aren't you?"
"That's me, My Lord. What's this help you need?"
"We've been going around talking to people who know stories about that big battle they had around here some years back. There are some people up in Thalesia who are distantly related to the man who was their king during that battle. They want to find out where he's buried so they can take his bones back home."
"Never heard of no kings involved in the fights around here," Berd admitted. "Course that don't mean there wasn't a few. I don't imagine kings go around introducin' theirselves to common folks."
Then there were battles up here?" Sparhawk asked.
"I don't know as I'd call em battles exactly - more what you might call skirmishes an' the like. Y see, My Lord, the main battle was down to the south end of the lake. That's where the armies drew up their lines of regiments an' battalions an' such. What was goin' through up here, was small groups of men - Pelosians mostly at first, an' then later, the Thalesians started to filter on down. Otha's Zemochs, they had out their patrols, an' there was a bunch of nasty little fights, but nothin' as you could really call a battle. There was a couple not far from here, but I don't know as any Thalesians was involved. Most of their fights went on up around Lake Venne, an' even as far north as Ghasek." He suddenly snapped his fingers.
"Now that's the one you really ought to talk to," he said.
"Can't think why I didn't remember that right off."
"Oh?"
"Of course. Can't imagine where my brain had went. That Count of Ghasek, he went to some university down in Cammoria, an' he got to studyin' up on history an' the like. Anyhow, all the books he read on that there battle, they sorta concentrated on what went on down to the south end of the lake. They didn't say hardly nothin' about what happened up here. Anyhow, when he finished up his studyin', he come back home, an' he started goin' around collectin' all the old stories he could come across. Wrote 'em all down, too. He's been at it for years now. I expect he's gathered up just about every story in northern Pelosia by now. He even come an' talked to me, an' it's some fair distance from Ghasek to here. He tole me that what he's tryin' to do is to fill in some mighty big gaps in what they teach at that there university. Yes, sir, you go talk to Count Ghasek. If anybody in all Pelosia knows anythin' about this king you're lookin' for, the count woulda found out about it an' wrote it down in that there book he's puttin' together."
"My friend," Sparhawk said warmly, "I think you've just solved our problem for us. How do we find the count?"
"Best way is to take the road to Lake Venne. The city of Venne itself is up to the north end of the lake. Then you go north from there. It's a real bad road, but it's pa.s.sable particularly at this time of year. Ghasek ain't no real town. Actual, it's just the count's estate. There's a few villages around it - mostly belongin' to the count hisself but anybody up there can direct you to the main house more like a palace, really, or maybe a castle. I've been past it a few times. Bleak lookin' place it is, but I never went inside, though." He laughed a rusty-sounding laugh. "Me an' the count, we don't exactly move in the same circles, if you take my meanin"."
"I understand perfectly," Sparhawk said. He took out several coins. "Your work here looks hot, Berd."
"It surely is, My Lord."
"When you finish up for the day, why don't you get yourself something cool to drink?" He gave the tanner the coins.
"Why, thankee, My Lord. That's uncommon generous of you."
"I'm the one who should be thanking you, Berd. I think you've just saved me months of travel." Sparhawk helped Sephrenia back onto her horse and then remounted himself. "I'm more grateful to you than you can possibly imagine, Berd," he said to the tanner by way of farewell.
"Now that turned out extremely well, didn't it?"
Sparhawk exulted as he and Sephrenia rode back into the city.
"I told you it would," she reminded him.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, you did. I shouldn't have doubted you for a moment, little mother."
"It's natural to have doubts, Sparhawk. We'll go on to Ghasek, then?"
"Of course."
"I think we'd better wait until tomorrow, though. That physician said that none of our friends is in any danger, but another days rest won't hurt them."
"Will they be able to ride?"
"Slowly at first, I'm afraid, but they'll grow stronger as we go along."
"All right. We'll leave first thing tomorrow morning."
The mood of the others brightened considerably when Sparhawk repeated what Berd had told him.
"Somehow this is beginning to seem too easy," Ulath muttered, "and easy things make me nervous."
"Don't be so pessimistic," Tynian told him. "Try to look on the bright side of things."
"I'd rather expect the worst. That way, if things turn out all right, I'm pleasantly surprised."
"I suppose you'll want me to get rid of the wagon then?" Talen said to Sparhawk.
"No. Let's take it along just to be on the safe side. If any one of these three takes a turn for the worse, we can always put him back in it."
"I'm going to check the supplies, Sparhawk," Kurik said.
"It could be quite some time before we come to another town with a market-place. I'll need some money."
Even that could not dampen Sparhawk's elation.
They spent the rest of the day quietly and retired early that evening.
Sparhawk lay in his bed staring up into the darkness. It was going to be all right, he was sure of that now. Ghasek was a long distance away, but if Berd had been right about the thoroughness of the count's research, he would have the answer they needed. Then all that would remain for them to do would be to go to the place where Sarak was buried and recover his crown. Then they hopefully would return to Cimmura with Bh.e.l.liom and There was a light tap on his door. He rose and opened it.
It was Sephrenia. Her face was ashen grey, and there were tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please, come with me, Sparhawk," she said. "I cannot face them alone any more."
"Face whom?"
"Just come with me. I'm hoping that I'm wrong, but I'm afraid I'm not. " She led him down the hall and opened the room she shared with flute, and once again Sparhawk smelled the familiar graveyard reek. flute sat on the bed, her little face grave, but her eyes unafraid. She was looking at a shadowy figure in black armour. Then the figure turned, and Sparhawk saw the scarred face.
"Olven," he said in a stricken voice.
The ghost of Sir Olven did not reply but simply extended its hands with its sword lying across them. Sephrenia was weeping openly as she stepped forward to receive the sword. The ghost looked at Sparhawk and raised one hand in a kind of half-salute.
And then it vanished.
Chapter 12.
Their mood was very bleak the following morning as they saddled their horses in the pre-dawn darkness.
"Was he a good friend?" Ulath asked, heaving Kalten's saddle up onto the back of the blond Pandion's horse.
"One of the best," Sparhawk answered. "He never said very much, but you always knew you could depend on him. I'm going to miss him."
"What are we going to do about those Zemochs following us?" Kalten asked.
"I don't think there's much we can do," Sparhawk replied. "We're a little under-strength until you and Tynian and Bevier recover. As long as all they're doing is trailing along behind us, they're not much of a problem."
"I think I've told you before that I don't like having enemies behind me," Ulath said.
"I'd rather have them behind me where I can keep an eye on them instead of hiding in ambush somewhere ahead," Sparhawk said.
Kalten winced as he pulled his saddle cinch tight.