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‘None of your business. There’s something I want to take care of.’
‘All right, but keep in touch.’
‘You’re being obvious again, Sparhawk.’ The fat man scratched his paunch. ‘I’ll talk with Talen. He’ll know how to get in touch with me if the queen really needs me for something.’ He groaned as he hauled himself to his feet. ‘I’m going to have to lose some weight,’ he said half to himself. Then he waddled to the door with that peculiarly spraddle-legged gait of the grossly obese.
‘He’s in a charming humour today,’ Sparhawk noted.
‘He’s got a lot on his mind just now,’ Stragen shrugged.
‘How well-connected are you in the palace at Emsat, Stragen?’
‘I have some contacts there. What do you need?’
‘I’d like to put some stumbling blocks in the way of this accommodation between Avin and Count Gerrich. Gerrich’s beginning to get a little too much influence in northern Eosia. Maybe you ought to get word to Meland in Acie as well. Gerrich’s making alliances in Pelosia and Thalesia already. It doesn’t seem reasonable that he’d overlook Deira, and Deira’s a little chaotic right now. Ask Meland to keep his eyes open.’
‘This Gerrich’s really got you concerned, hasn’t he?’
‘There are some things going on in Lamorkand that I don’t understand, Stragen, and I don’t want Gerrich to get too far ahead of me while I’m trying to sort them out.’
‘That makes sense – I suppose.’
Khalad came to his feet with his eyes slightly unfocused and with a thin dribble of blood coming out of his nose.
‘You see? You over-extended again,’ Mirtai told him.
‘How did you do that?’ Sparhawk’s squire asked her.
‘I’ll show you. Kalten, come here.’
‘Not me,’ the blond Pandion refused, backing away.
‘Don’t be foolish. I’m not going to hurt you.’
‘Isn’t that what you told Khalad before you bounced him off the flagstones?’
‘You might as well do as I tell you, Kalten,’ she said. ‘You’ll wind up doing it in the end anyway, and it won’t be nearly as painful for you if you don’t argue with me. Take out your sword and stab me in the heart with it.’
‘I don’t want to hurt you, Mirtai.’
‘You? Hurt me?’ Her laugh was sardonic.
‘You don’t have to be insulting about it,’ he said in an injured tone, drawing his sword.
It had all begun when Mirtai had passed through the palace courtyard while Kalten was giving Khalad some instruction in swordsmanship. She had made a couple of highly unflattering comments. One thing had led to another, and the end result had been this impromptu training session, during which Kalten and Khalad learned humility, if nothing else.
‘Stab me through the heart, Kalten,’ Mirtai said again.
In Kalten’s defence it should be noted in passing that he really did try. He made a great deal of noise when he came down on his back on the flagstones.
‘He made the same mistake you did,’ Mirtai pointed out to Khalad. ‘He straightened his arm too much. A straight arm is a locked arm. Always keep your elbow slightly bent.’
‘We’re trained to thrust from the shoulder, Mirtai,’ Khalad explained.
‘There are a lot of Elenes, I suppose,’ she shrugged. ‘It shouldn’t be all that hard to replace you. The thing that makes me curious is why you all feel that it’s necessary to stick your sword all the way through somebody. If you haven’t hit the heart with the first six inches of the blade, another yard or so of steel going through the same hole won’t make much difference, will it?’
‘Maybe it’s because it looks dramatic,’ Khalad said.
‘You kill people for show? That’s contemptible, and it’s the sort of thinking that fills graveyards. Always keep your blade free so that you’re ready for your next enemy. People fold up when you run swords through them, and then you have to kick the body off the blade before you can use it again.’
‘I’ll try to remember that.’
‘I hope so. I rather like you, and I hate burying friends.’ She bent, professionally peeled Kalten’s eyelid back and glanced at his glazed eyeball. ‘You’d better throw a bucket of water on our friend here,’ she suggested. ‘He hasn’t learned how to fall yet. We’ll go into that next time.’
‘Next time?’
‘Of course. If you’re going to learn how to do this, you’d better learn how to do it right.’ She gave Sparhawk a challenging look. ‘Would you like to try?’ she asked him.
‘Ah – no, Mirtai, not right now. Thanks all the same, though.’
She went on into the palace, looking just slightly pleased with herself.
‘You know, I don’t think I really want to be a knight after all, Sparhawk,’ Talen said from nearby. ‘It looks awfully painful.’
‘Where have you been? My wife’s got people out looking for you.’
‘Yes. I saw them blundering around out in the streets. I had to go visit Platime in the cellar.’
‘Oh?’
‘He picked up something he thought you ought to be aware of. You know those unauthorised bandits in the hills near Cardos?’
‘Not personally, no.’
‘Funny, Sparhawk. Very funny. Platime’s found out that somebody we know is sort of directing their activities.’
‘Oh? Who’s that?’
‘Can you believe that it’s Krager? You should have killed him when you had the chance, Sparhawk.’
Chapter 3 (#ulink_33227103-be48-5b66-a4b9-e0a030968b70)
The fog drifted in from the river not long after the sun went down that evening. The nights in Cimmura were always foggy in the spring when it wasn’t raining. Sparhawk, Stragen and Talen left the palace wearing plain clothing and heavy traveller’s cloaks and rode to the southeast quarter of town.
‘You don’t necessarily have to tell your wife I said this, Sparhawk,’ Stragen noted, looking around with distaste, ‘but her capital’s one of the least attractive cities in the world. You’ve got a truly miserable climate here.’
‘It’s not so bad in the summer-time,’ Sparhawk replied a little defensively.
‘I missed last summer,’ the blond thief said. ‘I took a short nap one afternoon and slept right through it. Where are we going?’
‘We want to see Platime.’
‘As I recall, his cellar’s near the west gate of the city. You’re taking us in the wrong direction.’
‘We have to go to a certain inn first.’ Sparhawk looked back over his shoulder. ‘Are we being followed, Talen?’ he asked.
‘Naturally.’
Sparhawk grunted. ‘That’s more or less what I expected.’
They rode on with the thick mist swirling around the legs of their horses and making the fronts of the nearby houses dim and hazy-looking. They reached the inn on Rose Street, and a surly-appearing porter admitted them to the inn yard and closed the gate behind them.
‘Anything you find out about this place isn’t for general dissemination,’ Sparhawk told Talen and Stragen as he dismounted. He handed Faran’s reins to the porter. ‘You know about this horse, don’t you, brother?’ he warned the man.
‘He’s a legend, Sparhawk,’ the porter replied. ‘The things you wanted are in the room at the top of the stairs.’
‘How’s the crowd in the tavern tonight?’
‘Loud, smelly and mostly drunk.’
‘There’s nothing new about that. What I meant, though, was how many of them are there?’
‘Fifteen or twenty. There are three of our men in there who know what to do.’
‘Good. Thank you, Sir Knight.’
‘You’re welcome, Sir Knight.’
Sparhawk led Talen and Stragen up the stairs.
‘This inn, I gather, isn’t altogether what it seems,’ Stragen observed.
‘The Pandions own it,’ Talen told him. ‘They come here when they don’t want to attract attention.’
‘There’s a little more to it than that,’ Sparhawk told him. He opened the door at the top of the stairs, and the three of them entered.
Stragen looked at the workmen’s smocks hanging on pegs near the door. ‘We’re going to resort to subterfuge, I see.’
‘It’s fairly standard practice,’ Sparhawk shrugged. ‘Let’s get changed. I’d sort of like to get back to the palace before my wife sends out search parties.’
The smocks were of blue canvas, worn and patched and with a few artfully-placed smudges on them. There were woollen leggings as well and thick-soled workmen’s boots. The caps were baggy affairs, designed more to keep off weather than they were for appearance.
‘You’re going to have to leave that here,’ Sparhawk said, pointing at Stragen’s rapier. ‘It’s a little obvious.’ The big Pandion tucked a heavy dagger under his belt.
‘You know that there are people watching the gate of the inn, don’t you, Sparhawk?’ Talen said.
‘I hope they enjoy their evening. We aren’t going out through the gate, though.’ Sparhawk led them back down to the inn yard, crossed to a narrow door in a side wall and opened it. The warm air that boiled out through the doorway smelled of stale beer and unwashed bodies. The three of them went inside and closed the door behind them. They seemed to be in a small storeroom. The straw on the floor was mouldy.
‘Where are we?’ Talen whispered.
‘In a tavern,’ Sparhawk replied softly. ‘There’s going to be a fight in just a few minutes. We’ll slip out into the main room during the confusion.’ He went to the curtained doorway leading out into the tavern and twitched the curtain several times. ‘All right,’ he whispered. ‘We’ll mingle with the crowd during the fight, and after a while, we’ll leave. Behave as if you’re slightly drunk, but don’t over-do it.’
‘I’m impressed,’ Stragen said.
‘I’m more than impressed,’ Talen added. ‘Not even Platime knows that there’s more than one way out of that inn.’
The fight began not long after that. It was noisy, involving a great deal of shouting and pushing and finally a few blows. Two totally uninvolved and evidently innocent by-standers were knocked senseless during the course of the altercation. Sparhawk and his friends smoothly insinuated themselves into the crowd, and after ten minutes or so, they reeled out through the door.
‘A little unprofessional,’ Stragen sniffed. ‘A staged fight shouldn’t involve the spectators that way.’
‘It should when the spectators might be looking for something other than a few tankards of ale,’ Sparhawk disagreed. ‘The two who fell asleep weren’t regular patrons in the tavern. They might have been completely innocent, but then again, they might not. This way, we don’t have to worry about them trailing along behind us.’
‘There’s more to being a Pandion Knight than I thought,’ Talen noted. ‘I may like it after all.’
They walked through the foggy streets towards the rundown quarter near the west gate, a maze of interconnecting lanes and unpaved alleys. They entered one of those alleys and went through it to a flight of muddy stone stairs leading down. A thick-bodied man lounged against the stone wall beside the stairs. ‘You’re late,’ he said to Talen in a flat voice.
‘We had to make sure we weren’t being followed,’ the boy shrugged.
‘Go on down,’ the man told them. ‘Platime’s waiting.’
The cellar hadn’t changed. It was still smoky and dim, and it was filled with a babble of coarse voices coming from the thieves, whores and cutthroats who lived there.
‘I don’t know how Platime can stand this place,’ Stragen shuddered.
Platime sat enthroned on a large chair on the other side of a smoky fire burning in an open pit. He heaved himself to his feet when he saw Sparhawk. ‘Where have you been?’ he bellowed in a thunderous voice.
‘Making sure that we weren’t followed,’ Sparhawk replied.
The fat man grunted. ‘He’s back here,’ he said, leading them toward the rear of the cellar. ‘He’s very interested in his health at the moment, so I’m keeping him more or less out of sight.’ He pushed his way into a small, closet-like chamber where a man sat on a stool nursing a tankard of watery beer. The man was a small. nervous-looking fellow with thinning hair and a cringing manner.
‘This is Pelk,’ Platime said. ‘He’s a sneak-thief. I sent him to Cardos to have a look around and to see what he could find out about some people we’re interested in. Tell him what you found out, Pelk.’
‘Well sir, good masters,’ the weedy man began, ‘it tuk me a goodly while to git close to them fellers, I’ll tell the world, but I made myself useful, an’ they finally sort of accepted me. They was all sorts of rigimarole I had to go thoo – swearin’ oaths an’ gettin’ blindfolded the first couple times they tuk me to ther camp an all, but after a while, they kinda let down ther guard, an’ I come an’ went purty much as I pleased. Like Platime prob’ly tole you, we figgered at first they wuz jist a buncha amachoors what didn’t know nothin’ about the way things is supposed to be did. We sees that sorta thing all the time, don’t we, Platime? Them’s the kind as gits therselves caught an’ hung.’
‘And good riddance to them,’ Platime growled.
‘Well sir,’ Pelk continued, ‘like I say, me’n Platime, we figgered as how them fellers in the mountings was jist a buncha them amachoors I tole you about – fellers what’d took up cuttin’ th’oats fer fun an’ profit, don’t y’know. As she turns out, howsomever, they was more’n that. Ther leaders was six er seven noblemen as was real disappointed ‘bout the way the big plans of the Primate Annias fell on ther faces, an’ they was powerful unhappy ‘bout what the queen had writ down on the warrants she put out fer ’em – nobles not bein’ accustomed to bein’ called them sorta names.
‘Well sir, t’ short it up some, these here noblemen all run off into the mountings ‘bout one jump ahead of the hangman, an’ they tuk t’ robbin’ travellers t’ make ends meet an’ spent the resta ther time thinkin’ up nasty names t’ call the queen.’
‘Get to the point, Pelk,’ Platime told him wearily.
‘Yessir, I wuz jist about to. Well now, it went on like that fer a spell, an’ then this here Krager feller, he come into camp, an’ some of them there nobles, they knowed him. He tole ’em as how he knowed some furriners as’d help ’em out iffn they’d raise enough fuss here in Elenia t’ keep the queen an’ her folks from gittin’ too curious ‘bout some stuff what’s goin’ on off in Lamorkand. This here Krager feller, he sez as how this stuff in Lamorkand might just could be a way fer ’em all t’ change the way ther forchunes bin goin’ since ol’ Annias got hisself kilt. Well, sir, them dukes an’ earls an’ such got real innerested at that point, an’ they tole us all t’ go talk t’ the local peasants an’ t’ start runnin’ down the tax-collectors an’ t’ say as how it ain’t natural fer no country t’ be run by no woman an’ the like. We wuz supposed t’ stir up them peasants an’ t’ git ’em t’ talkin’ among therselves ‘bout how the people oughtta all git together an’ thow the queen out an’ the like, an’ then them nobles, they caught a few tax collectors an’ hung ‘em an’ give the money back t’ the folks it’d been stole from in the first place, an’ them peasants, they wuz all happy as pigs in mud ‘bout that.’ Pelk scratched at his head. ‘Well sir, I guess I’ve said m’ piece now. At’s the way she stands in the mountings now. This here Krager feller, he’s got some money with ’im, an’ he’s mighty free with it, so them nobles what’s bin on short rations is gettin’ downright fond of ’im.’
‘Pelk,’ Sparhawk told him, ‘you’re a treasure.’ He gave the man several coins, and then he and his friends left the cubicle.
‘What are we going to do about it, Sparhawk?’ Platime asked.
‘We’re going to take steps,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘How many of these “liberators” are there?’
