‘It’s always good to know where you’re going, Sparhawk. When we march eastward, we’ll stay on the road that leads northeastwards towards the Zemoch town of Vileta. Listen carefully, my friend. You’re going to need directions if you want to find that pass I mentioned earlier.’ He then spoke at some length to tell Sparhawk which way to go, stressing landmarks and distances as he went along.
‘That’s about it, friend Sparhawk,’ he concluded. ‘I wish I could do more. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to have me bring a few thousand horsemen and come along with you?’
‘I wouldn’t mind the company, Kring,’ Sparhawk replied, ‘but that large a force would draw resistance, and that would delay us. We have friends on the plains of Lamorkand who are counting on us to reach the temple of Azash before the Zemochs overwhelm them.’
‘I understand completely, friend Sparhawk.’
They rode east for two days, and then Kring told Sparhawk that he should turn south in the morning. ‘I’d advise leaving about two hours before daylight, friend Sparhawk,’ he said. ‘If some Zemoch scout sees you and your friends ride out of the encampment in the daylight, he might get curious and follow you. The country to the south is fairly flat, so riding in the dark won’t be all that dangerous. Good luck, my friend. There’s a very great deal riding on your shoulders. We’ll pray for you – when we’re not busy killing Zemochs.’
The moon was rising above scattered clouds when Sparhawk came out of their pavilion for a breath of fresh air. Stragen followed him. ‘Nice night,’ the slender blond man said in his resonant voice.
‘A bit chilly, though,’ Sparhawk replied.
‘Who’d want to live in a land of endless summer? I probably won’t see you when you ride out, Sparhawk. I’m not what you’d call an early riser.’ Stragen reached inside his doublet and drew out a packet of paper somewhat thicker than the previous ones. ‘This is the last of them,’ he said, handing over the packet. ‘I’ve completed the task your queen laid upon me.’
‘You did well, Stragen – I guess.’
‘Give me a little more credit than that, Sparhawk. I did exactly as Ehlana commanded.’
‘You could have saved yourself a long ride if you’d just given me all the letters at once, you know.’
‘I didn’t mind the ride all that much. I rather like you and your companions, you know – not enough to emulate your overwhelming nobility, of course, but I do like you.’
‘I like you too, Stragen – not enough to trust you, of course – but well enough, I suppose.’
‘Thank you, Sir Knight,’ Stragen said with a mocking bow.
‘Don’t mention it, Milord,’ Sparhawk grinned.
‘Be careful in Zemoch, my friend,’ Stragen said seriously. ‘I’m very fond of your iron-willed young queen, and I’d rather you didn’t break her heart by doing something stupid. Also, if Talen tells you something, pay attention to him. I know he’s just a boy – and a thief to boot – but he has very good instincts and a rather astounding mind. It’s altogether possible that he’s the most intelligent person either of us will ever meet. Besides, he’s lucky. Don’t lose, Sparhawk. I don’t much feature bowing down to Azash.’ He made a face. ‘Enough of that. I’ve got a maudlin streak in me sometimes. Let’s go back inside and crack open a flagon or two for old times’ sake – unless you want to read your mail.’
‘I think I’ll save it. I may get downhearted somewhere in Zemoch, and I’ll need something to lift my spirits at that point.’
The clouds had once again obscured the moon as they gathered early the next morning. Sparhawk sketched in their route, laying some stress on the landmarks Kring had mentioned. Then they mounted and rode out of the camp.
The darkness was so dense as to be virtually impenetrable. ‘We could be riding around in circles out here, you know,’ Kalten complained, his voice slightly sullen. Kalten had sat up late with the Peloi the previous evening, and his eyes had been bloodshot and his hands palsied when Sparhawk had awakened him.
‘Just keep riding, Kalten,’ Sephrenia told him.
‘Of course,’ he said sarcastically, ‘but which way?’
‘Southeast.’
‘Fine, but which way is southeast?’
‘That way.’ She pointed off into the darkness.
‘How do you know?’
She spoke rapidly to him in Styric for a moment. ‘There,’ she said. ‘That should explain everything to you.’
‘Little mother, I didn’t understand one single word you said.’
‘That’s not my fault, dear one.’
The dawn came slowly that morning, since the cloudbanks lying to the east were particularly dense. As they rode south, they began to see the outlines of ragged peaks lying leagues off to the east – peaks which could only be in Zemoch.
It was late in the morning when Kurik reined in. ‘There’s that red peak you mentioned, Sparhawk,’ he said, pointing.
‘It looks as if it’s bleeding, doesn’t it?’ Kalten observed. ‘Or is that just my eyes?’
‘A little of each perhaps, Kalten,’ Sephrenia said. ‘You shouldn’t have drunk so much ale last night.’
‘You should have told me about that last night, little mother,’ he said mournfully.
‘Very well then, gentlemen,’ she said, ‘it’s time for you to change clothing, I think. Your armour might be a bit ostentatious in Zemoch. Put on your mail-shirts if you must, but I have Styric smocks for each of you. After you’ve changed, I’ll do something about your faces.’
‘I’m more or less used to mine,’ Ulath told her.
‘You may be, Ulath, but it might startle the Zemochs.’
The five knights and Berit removed their formal armour – the knights with a certain relief and Berit with obvious reluctance. Then they pulled on their only slightly less uncomfortable chain-mail and lastly the Styric smocks.
Sephrenia looked at them critically. ‘Leave your swordbelts on over the smocks for now,’ she said. ‘I doubt that the Zemochs have any really set customs about how they wear their weapons. If we find out differently later, we can make adjustments. Now, stand still, all of you.’ She went from man to man, touching their faces and repeating the same Styric incantation for each of them.