‘That’s really none of your business, Sir Knight. I can bring it back after the storm passes.’
‘If it passes,’ Kalten added. ‘And I wouldn’t be at all surprised that when it does, this broken-down barn’s going to be surrounded by several thousand armed fanatics.’
They all looked at each other.
‘I think maybe we’d better move on, storm or no storm,’ Vanion said. He looked at Flute. ‘Can you still…? I mean, will this wind interfere?’
‘It won’t make it any easier,’ she admitted glumly.
‘I don’t want you to hurt yourself,’ Sephrenia told her.
Flute waved her hand as if brushing it aside. ‘Don’t worry about me, Sephrenia.’
‘Don’t try to hide things from me, young lady.’ Sephrenia’s tone was stern. ‘I know exactly what all this wind’s going to do to you.’
‘And I know exactly what trying to carry it around will do to our mysterious friend out there. Trying to chase us with a hurricane on his back will exhaust him far more than carrying ten people on horseback will exhaust me – and I’m faster than he is. They don’t call me the nimble Goddess for nothing, you know. I can run even faster than Talen, if I have to. Where would you like to go, Lord Vanion?’
The Preceptor looked around at them. ‘Back to Jorsan?’
‘It’s probably as good as any place in a hurricane,’ Kalten said. ‘At least the beds are dry.’
‘And the beer is wet?’ Ulath smiled.
‘That did sort of enter into my thinking,’ Kalten admitted.
The wind shrieked around the corners of the building, but the inn was a sturdy stone structure, and the windows had stout shutters. Sparhawk chafed at the delay, but there was no help for it.
Sephrenia had put Flute to bed immediately upon their return to the inn, and she hovered over the little girl protectively. ‘She’s really concerned,’ Vanion reported. ‘I guess there are limits after all. Flute’s trying to make light of it, but I know exhaustion when I see it.’
‘She won’t die, will she?’ Talen asked in a shocked voice.
‘She can’t die, Talen,’ Vanion replied. ‘She can be destroyed, but she can’t die.’
‘What’s the difference?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Vanion admitted. ‘I am sure that she’s very, very tired. We shouldn’t have let her do that.’ He looked around the hallway outside the room where Sephrenia was tending the weary little Goddess. ‘Where’s Kalten?’ he asked.
‘He and Ulath are down in the tap-room, my Lord,’ Bevier replied.
‘I should have known, I guess. One of you might remind them that I won’t go easy on them if they’re unwell when we set out, though.’
They went on downstairs again and periodically checked the weather outside. If anything, the wind actually began to blow harder.
Sparhawk finally went back up and knocked lightly on the door to Sephrenia’s room. ‘Could I have a word with Flute?’ he asked when his tutor came to the door.
‘No. Absolutely not,’ she whispered. ‘I just got her to sleep.’ She came out into the hallway, closed the door, and set her back protectively against it.
‘I’m not going to hurt her, Sephrenia.’
‘You can make safe wagers on that all over Daresia,’ she told him with a steely glint in her eyes. ‘What did you want to ask her?’
‘Could I use Bhelliom to break up this storm?’
‘Probably.’
‘Why don’t I do that, then?’
‘Did you want to destroy Jorsan? – and kill everybody in town?’
He stared at her.
‘You have no real idea of the kind of forces involved in weather, have you, Sparhawk?’
‘Well, sort of,’ he said.
‘No, I don’t think you do, dear one. Whoever raised this hurricane is very powerful, and he knows exactly what he’s doing, but his hurricane is still a natural force. You could use Bhelliom to break it up, certainly, but if you do, you’ll release all that pent-up force at one time and in one place. You wouldn’t even be able to find pieces of Jorsan after the dust settled.’
‘Maybe I’d better drop the idea.’
‘I would. Now run along. I have to keep watch over Aphrael.’
Sparhawk went back down the hallway feeling a little like a small boy who had just been sent to his room.
Ulath was coming up the stairs. ‘Have you got a minute, Sparhawk?’ he asked.
‘Of course.’
‘I think you’d better keep a close eye on Kalten.’
‘Oh?’
‘He’s beginning to have some murderous thoughts about Berit.’
‘Is it getting out of hand?’
‘You knew about it, then? – about the feelings he has for your wife’s maid?’
Sparhawk nodded.
‘The more he drinks, the worse it’s going to get, you know – and there’s nothing else to do during this storm except drink. Is there any real substance to those suspicions of his?’
‘No. He just pulled them out of the air. The girl’s very, very fond of him, actually.’
‘I sort of thought that might be the case. Berit was already having enough trouble with the Emperor’s wife without going in search of more. Does Kalten do this very often? Fall desperately in love, I mean?’
‘So far as I know, it’s the first time. He’s always sort of taken affection where he could find it.’
‘That’s the safest way,’ Ulath agreed. ‘But since he’s waited so long, this is hitting him very hard. We’d better do what we can to keep him and Berit apart until we get back to Matherion and Alean has the chance to straighten it out.’
Khalad came down the hallway to join them. Sparhawk’s squire had a slightly disgusted look on his face. He held up Kalten’s florin. ‘This isn’t going to work, Sparhawk,’ he said. ‘I could cover the stone with it easily enough, but it’d probably take you a half-hour to pry it open again so that you could use the ring. I’m going to have to come up with something else. You’d better give me the ring. I’m going to have to go talk with a goldsmith, and I’ll need precise measurements.’
Sparhawk felt a great reluctance to part with the ring. ‘Can’t you just…?’
Khalad shook his head. ‘Whatever the goldsmith and I decide on will have to be fitted anyway. I guess it gets down to how much you trust me at this point, Sparhawk.’
Sparhawk sighed. ‘You had to put it on that basis, didn’t you, Khalad?’
‘I thought it would be the quickest way, my Lord.’ Khalad held out his hand, and Sparhawk removed the ring and gave it to him. ‘Thank you,’ Khalad smiled. ‘Your faith in me is very touching.’
‘Well said,’ Ulath murmured.
Later, after Sparhawk and Ulath had carried Kalten upstairs and put him to bed, they all gathered in the common-room for supper. Sparhawk spoke briefly with the innkeeper and had Sephrenia’s meal taken upstairs to her.
‘Where’s Talen?’ Bevier asked, looking around.
‘He said he was going out for a breath of fresh air,’ Berit replied.
‘In a hurricane?’
‘I think he’s just restless.’
‘Or he wants to go steal something,’ Ulath added.
The door to the inn banged open, and the wind blew Talen inside. He was wearing doublet and hose under his cloak, and a rapier at his side. The weapon did not seem to encumber him very much. He set his back against the door and strained to push it shut. He was soaked through, and his face was streaming water. He was grinning broadly, however. ‘I just solved a mystery,’ he laughed, coming across to where they sat.
‘Oh?’ Ulath asked.
‘What would it be worth to you gentlemen to know Rebal’s real identity?’
‘How did you manage that?’ Berit demanded.
‘Sheer luck, actually. I was outside looking around. The wind blew me down a narrow lane and pinned me up against the door of the shop at the end. I thought I’d step inside to get my breath, and the first thing I saw in there was a familiar face. Our mysterious Rebal’s a respected shopkeeper here in Jorsan. He told me so himself. He doesn’t look nearly as impressive when he’s wearing an apron.’
‘A shopkeeper?’ Bevier asked incredulously.
‘Yes indeed, Sir Knight – one of the pillars of the community, to hear him tell it. He’s even a member of the town council.’
‘Did you manage to get his name?’ Vanion asked.
‘Of course, my Lord. He introduced himself just as soon as the wind blew me through the door. His name’s Amador. I even bought something from him just to keep him talking.’
‘What does he deal in?’ Berit asked.
Talen reached inside his tunic and drew out a bright pink strip of cloth, wet and somewhat bedraggled. ‘Isn’t it pretty?’ he said. ‘I think I’ll dry it out and give it to Flute.’
‘You’re not serious,’ Vanion laughed. ‘Is that really what he sells?’
‘May muh tongue turn green iffn it ain’t, yer Preceptorship,’ the boy replied, imitating Caalador’s dialect. ‘The man here in Edom who has all the Tamuls trembling in their boots is a ribbon clerk. Can you imagine that?’ And he collapsed in a chair, laughing uproariously.
‘How does it work?’ Sparhawk asked the next day, turning the ring over and looking at the underside.
‘It’s the mounting of one of those rings people use when they want to poison other people’s food or drink,’ Khalad replied. ‘I had the goldsmith take it off the original ring and mount it on ours so that the cover fits over the ruby. There’s a little hinge on this side of the mounting and a latch on the other. All you have to do is touch the latch – right here.’ He pointed at a tiny lever half concealed under the massive-looking setting. ‘The hinge has a little spring, so this gold cap pops open.’ He touched the lever, and the half-globe covering the ruby snapped up to reveal the stone. ‘Are you sure that the ring will work if you’re only touching Bhelliom with the band? With that cap in the way, touching the stone to anything might be a little tricky.’
‘The band does the job,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘This is very clever, Khalad.’
‘Thank you. I made the goldsmith wash out all the poison before we installed it on your ring.’
‘The old ring had been used?’
‘Oh, yes. One of the heirs of the Edomish noblewoman who’d previously owned it sold it to the goldsmith after she died. I guess she had a lot of enemies. She did at first, anyway.’ Khalad chuckled. ‘The goldsmith was very disappointed with me. He really wanted to be alone with your ring for a while. That ruby’s worth quite a lot. I didn’t think Bhelliom would respond to a piece of red glass, though, so I kept a close eye on him. You’d probably better find out if the ring will still open the box anyway, just to be on the safe side. If it doesn’t, I’ll go back to the goldsmith’s shop and start cutting off his fingers. I’d imagine that after he loses two or three, he’ll remember where he hid the real ruby. It’s very hard to do finely detailed work when you don’t have all ten fingers. I told him I’d do that right at the outset, so we can probably trust his integrity.’
‘You’re a ruthless sort of fellow.’
‘I just wanted to avoid misunderstandings. After we make sure that the ring still opens the box, you’d better take it to Flute and find out if the gold’s thick enough to shield the ruby. If it isn’t, I’ll take it back to the goldsmith and have him pile more gold on that cap. We can keep doing that until it does what we want it to do.’
‘You’re very practical, Khalad.’
‘Somebody in this group has to be.’
‘What did you do with Kalten’s florin?’
‘I used it to pay the goldsmith. It covered part of the cost. You still owe me for the rest, though.’
‘I’m going to be in debt to everybody before we get home.’
‘That’s all right, Sparhawk,’ Khalad grinned. ‘We all know that you’re good for it.’
‘That does it!’ Sparhawk said angrily, after he had taken a quick look out the door of the common-room. It was two days later, and they had all just come downstairs for breakfast. ‘Let’s get ready to leave.’
‘I can’t bring the ship back in this storm, Sparhawk,’ Flute told him. The little girl still looked wan, but she was obviously recovering.
‘We’ll have to go overland, then. We’re sitting here like ducks in a row just waiting for our friend out there to gather his forces. We have to move.’
‘It’s going to take months to reach Matherion if we go overland, Sparhawk,’ Khalad objected. ‘Flute’s not well enough to speed up the trip.’
‘I’m not that sick, Khalad,’ Flute objected. ‘I’m just a little tired, that’s all.’
‘Do you have to do it all by yourself?’ Sparhawk asked her.
‘I didn’t quite follow that.’
‘If one of your cousins happened along, could he help you?’
She frowned.
‘Let’s say that you were making the decisions, and he was just lending you the muscle.’
‘It’s a nice idea, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia said, ‘but we don’t have one of Aphrael’s cousins along.’
‘No, but we’ve got Bhelliom.’
‘I knew it would happen,’ Bevier groaned. ‘The accursed stone’s unhinged Sparhawk’s mind. He thinks he’s a God.’
‘No, Bevier,’ Sparhawk smiled. ‘I’m not a God, but I have access to something very close to one. When I put those rings on, Bhelliom has to do what I tell it to do. That’s not exactly like being a God, but it’s close enough. Let’s have breakfast, and then the rest of you can gather our belongings and get them packed on the horses. Aphrael and I will hammer out the details of how we’re going to work this.’
Chapter 7
The wind was screaming through the streets of Jorsan, driving torrents of rain before it. Sparhawk and his friends wrapped themselves tightly in their cloaks, bowed their heads into the wind, and plodded grimly into the teeth of the hurricane.