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‘How much money did you steal from me this morning?’
Talen’s face grew cautious. ‘Not too much. Why?’
‘Be more specific.’
‘Seven coppers and one silver piece. You’re a friend, so I put the gold coins back in your pocket.’
‘I’m touched.’
‘You want the money back, I suppose.’
‘Keep it – as payment for your services.’
‘You’re generous, my Lord.’
‘I’m not finished yet. I want you to keep an eye on Krager for me. I think I’m going to be out of town for a while, and I want to keep track of him. If he leaves Cimmura, go to the inn on Rose Street. Do you know it?’
‘The one that’s run by the Pandions?’
‘How did you find out about that?’
‘Everybody knows about it.’
Sparhawk let that pass. ‘Knock on the gate three times, then pause. Then knock twice more. A porter will open the gate. Be polite to him because he’s a knight. Tell him that the man Sparhawk was interested in has left town. Try to give him the direction Krager took. Can you remember all that?’
‘Do you want me to recite it back to you?’
‘That won’t be necessary. The knight porter at the inn will give you half a crown for the information.’
Talen’s eyes brightened.
Sparhawk turned back to Platime. ‘Thank you, my friend,’ he said. ‘Consider your debt to my father paid.’
‘I’ve already forgotten it.’ The fat man grinned.
‘Platime’s very good at forgetting debts,’ Talen said. ‘The ones he owes, anyway.’
‘Someday your mouth is going to get you in serious trouble, boy.’
‘Nothing that my feet can’t carry me away from.’
‘Go and tell Sef to hitch the grey team to the carriage with the blue wheels and to bring it to the alley door.’
‘What’s in it for me?’
‘I’ll postpone the thrashing I’m just about to give you.’
‘That sounds fair.’ The boy grinned and scampered away.
‘That’s a very clever young man,’ Sparhawk said.
‘He’s the best,’ Platime agreed. ‘It’s my guess that he’ll replace me when I retire.’
‘He’s the crown prince, then.’
Platime laughed uproariously. ‘The crown prince of thieves. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? You know, I like you, Sparhawk.’ Still laughing, the fat man clapped the big knight on the shoulder. ‘If there’s ever anything else I can do for you, let me know.’
‘I will, Platime.’
‘I’ll even give you a special rate.’
‘Thanks,’ Sparhawk said dryly. He picked up his sword from beside Platime’s chair and went back to his cot to change back into his own clothes. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked Kalten.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Good. You’d better get ready to leave.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘Back to the chapterhouse. I found out something that Vanion needs to know.’
The carriage was not new, but it was soundly constructed and well maintained. The windows were draped with heavy curtains which effectively hid the passengers from prying eyes. The team which drew the carriage were a pair of matched greys, and they moved out at a brisk trot.
Kalten leaned back against the leather cushion. ‘Is it my imagination, or does thieving pay better than knighting?’
‘We didn’t go into the business for the money, Kalten,’ Sparhawk reminded him.
‘That’s painfully obvious, my friend.’ Kalten stretched out his legs and crossed his arms contentedly. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I could get to like this sort of thing.’
‘Try not to,’ Sparhawk advised him.
‘You have to admit that it’s a great deal more comfortable than pounding your backside on a hard saddle.’
‘Discomfort’s good for the soul.’
‘My soul’s just fine, Sparhawk. It’s my behind that’s starting to wear out.’
The carriage moved rapidly through the streets, and they soon passed through the east gate of the city and pulled up at the drawbridge of the chapterhouse. Sparhawk and Kalten stepped out into the drizzly afternoon, and Sef immediately turned the carriage around and clattered back towards the city.
Following the ritual which gained them entrance into the fortified house, Sparhawk and Kalten went immediately to the preceptor’s study in the south tower.
Vanion was seated at the large table in the centre of the room with a stack of documents in front of him, and Sephrenia sat by the crackling fire with her ever-present teacup in her hand. She was looking into the dancing flames, her eyes a mystery.
Vanion looked up and saw the blood-stains on Kalten’s doublet. ‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘Our disguises didn’t work.’ Kalten shrugged. ‘A group of church soldiers waylaid us in an alley. It’s not serious.’
Sephrenia rose from her chair and came over to them. ‘Did you have it tended?’ she asked.
‘Sparhawk put a bandage on it.’
‘Why don’t you let me look at it? Sometimes Sparhawk’s bandages are a little rudimentary. Sit down and open your doublet.’
Kalten grumbled a bit but did as he was told.
She untied the bandage and looked at the cut in his side with pursed lips. ‘Did you clean it at all?’ she asked Sparhawk.
‘I wiped it down with some wine.’
She sighed. ‘Oh, Sparhawk.’ She rose, went to the door, and sent one of the young knights outside for the things she would need.
‘Sparhawk picked up some information,’ Kalten told the preceptor.
‘What kind of information?’ Vanion asked.
‘I found Krager,’ Sparhawk told him, drawing up a chair. ‘He’s staying in a brothel near the west gate.’
One of Sephrenia’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What were you doing in a brothel, Sparhawk?’
‘It’s a long story,’ he replied, flushing slightly. ‘Someday I’ll tell you all about it. Anyway,’ he continued, ‘the Baron Harparin came to the brothel, and –’
‘Harparin?’ Vanion looked startled. ‘In a brothel? He had less business there than you did.’
‘He was there to meet with Krager. I managed to get inside and into the room next to the one where they were meeting.’ He quickly sketched out the details of the involuted scheme of the Primate Annias.
Vanion’s eyes were narrow as Sparhawk finished his report. ‘Annias is even more ruthless than I’d imagined,’ he said. ‘I never thought that he’d stoop to mass murder.’
‘We’re going to stop them, aren’t we?’ Kalten asked as Sephrenia began to cleanse his wound.
‘Of course we are,’ Vanion replied absently. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes lost in thought. ‘I think I see a way to turn this around.’ He looked at Kalten. ‘Are you fit to ride?’ he asked.
‘This is hardly more than a scratch,’ Kalten assured him as Sephrenia laid a compress over the cut.
‘Good. I want you to go to the motherhouse at Demos. Take every man you can get your hands on and start out for Count Radun’s castle in Arcium. Stay off the main roads. We don’t want Martel to know you’re coming. Sparhawk, I want you to lead the knights from here in Cimmura. Join Kalten down there in Arcium someplace.’
Sparhawk shook his head. ‘If we ride out in a body, Annias will know that we’re up to something. If he gets suspicious, he could postpone the whole thing and then attack the count’s castle some other time when we aren’t around.’
Vanion frowned. That’s true, isn’t it? Maybe you could sneak your men out of Cimmura a few at a time.’
‘It would take too long that way,’ Sephrenia told him, winding a clean bandage around Kalten’s waist, ‘and sneaking attracts more attention than riding out openly.’ She pursed her lips in thought. ‘Does the order still own that cloister on the road to Cardos?’ she asked.
Vanion nodded. ‘It’s in total disrepair, though.’
‘Wouldn’t this be an excellent time to restore it?’
‘I don’t quite follow you, Sephrenia.’
‘We need to find some excuse for most of the Pandions here in Cimmura to ride out of town together. If you were to go to the palace and tell the council that you’re going to take all your knights and go and repair that cloister, Annias would think you’re playing right into his hands. Then you could take wagonloads of tools and building materials to make it look genuine and leave town with them. Once you’re out of Cimmura, you can change direction with no one the wiser.’
‘It sounds workable, Vanion,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Will you be coming with us?’
‘No,’ Vanion replied. ‘I’m going to have to ride to Chyrellos and alert a few friendly members of the Church Hierocracy to what Annias has planned.’
Sparhawk nodded; then he remembered something. ‘I’m not entirely positive about this,’ he said, ‘but I think there’s someone here in Cimmura who’s been watching me, and I don’t think he’s an Elene.’ He smiled at Sephrenia. ‘I’ve been trained to recognize the subtle touch of a Styric mind. Anyway, this watcher seems to be able to pick me out no matter what kind of disguise I wear. I’m almost certain that he’s the one who set the church soldiers on Kalten and me, and that means that he has ties to Annias.’
‘What does he look like?’ Sephrenia asked him.
‘I can’t really say. He wears a hooded robe and keeps his face hidden.’
‘He can’t report to Annias if he’s dead,’ Kalten shrugged. ‘Lay an ambush for him somewhere on the road to Cardos.’
‘Isn’t that a little direct?’ Sephrenia asked disapprovingly, tying the bandage firmly in place.
‘I’m a simple man, Sephrenia. Complications confuse me.’
‘I want to work out a few more details,’ Vanion said. He looked at Sephrenia. ‘Kalten and I will be riding together as far as Demos. Do you want to return to the motherhouse?’
‘No,’ she replied. ‘I’ll go with Sparhawk just in case this Styric who’s been watching him tries to follow us. I should be able to deal with that without resorting to murder.’
‘All right, then,’ Vanion said, rising to his feet. ‘Sparhawk, you and Kalten go and see to the wagons and the building materials. I’ll go to the palace and lie a little bit. As soon as I get back, we’ll all leave.’
‘And what would you like me to do, Vanion?’ Sephrenia asked him.
He smiled. ‘Why don’t you have another cup of tea, Sephrenia?’
‘Thank you, Vanion. I believe I will.’
Chapter 8 (#ulink_ae343169-80ce-50cf-b707-d73aca31b7a8)
The weather had turned cold, and the sullen afternoon sky was spitting pellets of hard-frozen snow. A hundred cloaked and black-armoured Pandion Knights rode at a jingling trot through the heavily forested region near the Arcian border with Sparhawk and Sephrenia in the lead. They had been travelling for five days.
Sparhawk glanced up at the sky and reined in the black horse he was riding. The horse reared, pawing at the air with his front hooves. ‘Oh, stop that,’ Sparhawk told him irritably.
‘He’s very enthusiastic, isn’t he?’ Sephrenia said.
‘He’s also not very bright. I’ll be glad when we catch up with Kalten and I can get Faran back.’
‘Why are we stopping?’
‘It’s close to evening, and that grove over there seems to be fairly clear of undergrowth. We may as well set up our night’s encampment here.’ He raised his voice then, calling back over his shoulder. ‘Sir Parasim,’ he shouted.
The young knight with the butter-coloured hair rode forward. ‘Yes, my Lord Sparhawk?’ he said in his light tenor voice.
‘We’ll stop for the night here,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘As soon as the wagons get here, set up Sephrenia’s tent for her and see to it that she has everything she needs.’
‘Of course, my Lord.’
The sky had turned a chill purple by the time Sparhawk had overseen the setting up of their encampment and had posted sentries. He walked past the tents and the flickering cooking fires to join Sephrenia at the small fire before her tent, which was set slightly apart from the rest of the camp. He smiled when he saw her ever-present tea-kettle hanging from a metal tripod which she had set over the flames.
