He had gone perhaps a mile when he came to a cluster of rudely built Styric houses. They were all on fire, and bodies littered the open area around the houses. Sparhawk began to swear He wheeled the young black horse round and galloped back to where he had left his troops.
‘What is it?’ Sephrenia asked him, looking at his bleak expression. ‘Where’s the smoke coming from?’
‘There was a Styric village up ahead,’ he replied darkly ‘We both know what the smoke means.’
‘Ah.’ She sighed.
‘You’d better keep the little girl back here until I can get a burial detail up there’
‘No, Sparhawk. This sort of thing is a part of her heritage, too. All Styrics know that it happens. Besides, I might be able to help the survivors – if there are any’
‘Have it your own way,’ he said shortly. A huge rage had descended upon him, and he curtly motioned the column forward.
There was some evidence that the hapless Styrics had made an attempt to defend themselves, but that they had been swarmed over by people carrying only the crudest of weapons. Sparhawk put his men to work – some of them digging graves and others extinguishing the fires.
Sephrenia came across the littered field, her face deathly pale. ‘There are only a few women among the dead,’ she reported. ‘I’d guess that the rest fled back into the woods.’
‘See if you can persuade them to come back,’ he said. He looked over at Sir Parasim, who was weeping openly as he spaded dirt out of a grave. The young knight was obviously not emotionally suited for this kind of work. ‘Parasim,’ Sparhawk ordered, ‘go with Sephrenia.’
‘Yes, my Lord,’ Parasim sobbed, dropping his spade.
The dead were finally all committed to the earth, and Sparhawk briefly murmured an Elene prayer over the graves. It was probably not appropriate for Styrics, but he didn’t really know what else to do.
After about an hour, Sephrenia and Parasim returned. ‘Any luck?’ Sparhawk asked her.
‘We found them,’ she replied, ‘but they won’t come out of the woods.’
‘I can’t really blame them very much,’ he said. ‘We’ll see if we can fix up at least a few of these houses for them to keep them out of the weather.’
‘Don’t waste your time, Sparhawk. They won’t come back to this place. That’s a part of the Styric religion.’
‘Did they give you some idea of which way the Elenes who did this went?’
‘What are you planning, Sparhawk?’
‘Chastisement. That’s a part of the Elene religion.’
‘No. I won’t tell you which way they went, if that’s what you’ve got in mind.’
‘I’m not going to let this pass, Sephrenia. You can tell me or not, whichever you choose. I can find their trail by myself if I need to.’
She looked at him helplessly. Then her eyes became shrewd. ‘A bargain, Sparhawk?’ she suggested.
‘I’ll listen.’
‘I’ll tell you where to find them if you promise not to kill anybody.’
‘All right,’ he agreed grudgingly, his face still black with anger. ‘Which way did they go?’
‘I’m not done yet,’ she said. ‘You’ll stay here with me. I know you, and you sometimes go to extremes. Send someone else to do it.’
He glared at her, then turned. ‘Lakus!’ he bellowed.
‘No,’ she said, ‘not Lakus. He’s as bad as you are.’
‘Who, then?’
‘Parasim, I think.’
‘Parasim?’
‘He’s a gentler person. If we tell him not to kill anybody, he won’t make any mistakes.’
‘All right, then,’ he said from between clenched teeth. ‘Parasim,’ he said to the young knight standing sorrowfully nearby, ‘take a dozen men and run down the animals who did this. Don’t kill anybody, but make them all very, very sorry that they ever came up with the idea.’
‘Yes, my Lord,’ Parasim said, his eyes suddenly glinting like steel. Sephrenia gave him directions, and he started back to where the other knights were gathered. On his way, he stopped and uprooted a thorn bush. He seized it in one gauntleted fist and swung it very hard at an unoffending birch tree, ripping off a fair-sized chunk of white bark.
‘Oh, dear,’ Sephrenia murmured.
‘He’ll do just fine.’ Sparhawk laughed mirthlessly. ‘I have great hopes for that young man and great faith in his sense of the appropriate.’
Some distance away, Flute was standing over the scattered graves. She was playing her pipes softly, and her melody seemed to convey aeons of sorrow.
The weather continued cold and unpleasant, though no significant amounts of snow fell. After a week of steady travel, they reached a ruined castle some six or eight leagues west of the city of Darra. Kalten and the main body of the Pandion Knights awaited them there
‘I thought you’d got lost,’ the blond man said as he reined up in front of Sparhawk. He looked curiously at Flute, who sat in front of Sparhawk’s saddle, her bare feet both on one side of the black horse’s neck and with Sparhawk’s cloak wrapped around her ‘Isn’t it a little late for you to be starting a family?’
‘We found her along the way,’ Sparhawk replied. He took the little girl and handed her across to Sephrenia.
‘Why didn’t you put some shoes on her?’
‘We did. She keeps losing them. There’s a nunnery on the other side of Darra. We’ll drop her off there.’ Sparhawk looked at the ruin crouched on the hill above them. ‘Is there any kind of shelter in there?’
‘Some It breaks the wind, at least.’
‘Let’s get inside, then. Did Kurik bring Faran and my armour?’
Kalten nodded.
‘Good. This horse is a little unruly, and Vanion’s old armour has rubbed me raw in more places than I care to count.’
They rode up into the ruin and found Kurik and the young novice, Berit, waiting for them. ‘What took you so long?’ Kurik asked bluntly
‘It’s a long way, Kurik,’ Sparhawk replied a bit defensively, ‘and the wagons can only move so fast.’
‘You should have left them behind.’
‘They were carrying the food and extra equipment.’
Kurik grunted. ‘Let’s get in out of the weather. I’ve got a fire going in what’s left of that watchtower over there.’ He looked rather peculiarly at Sephrenia, who carried Flute in her arms. ‘Lady,’ he greeted her respectfully