2 - The Ruby Knight

by The Ruby Knight [lit]

  'Why do you keep doing that?' Tynian asked him

  finally, pulling his dripping blue cloak tighter about him.

  'To let Kurik know which way we've gone,' Sparhawk

  replied, remounting.

  'Very clever, but how will he know which bush to look

  behind?'

  'It's always the same kind of bush. Kurik and I worked

  that out a long time ago.'

  The sky continued to weep. It was a depressing kind of

  rain that soaked into everything. Campfires were difficult

  to get started, and they tended to go out without

  much advance warning. Occasionally they passed

  Lamork villages, and now and then an isolated farmstead.

  The people for the most part were staying in out of

  the rain, and the cattle grazing in the fields were wet and

  dispirited-looking.

  They were not too far from the lake when Bevier and

  Kurik finally caught up with them on a blustery afternoon

  when the steady rain was blowing almost horizontally

  to the ground.

  'We delivered Ortzel to the Basilica,' Bevier reported,

  . wiping his dripping face. 'Then we went to Dolmant's

  house and told him about what was happening here in

  Lamorkand. He agrees that the upheaval is probably

  designed to pull the Church Knights' out of Chyrellos.

  He'll do what he can to block that.'

  'Good,' Sparhawk said. 'I like the notion of all of

  Martel's efforts being wasted. Did you have any problems

  along the way?'

  'Nothing serious,' Bevier said. 'The roads are all being

  patrolled, though, and Chyrellos is crawling with

  soldiers.'

  'And all the soldiers are loyal to Annias, I suppose?'

  Kalten said sourly.

  'There are other candidates for the Archprelacy,

  Kalten,' Tynian pointed out. 'if Annias is bringing his

  troops into Chyrellos, it stands to reason that the others

  would bring in theirs as well.'

  'We certainly don't want open fighting in the streets of

  the Holy City,' Sparhawk said. 'How's Archprelate

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  Cluvonus?' he asked Bevier.

  'He's fading fast, I'm afraid. The Hierocracy can't even

  hide his condition from the common people any more.'

  'That makes what we're doing all the more urgent,'

  Kalten said. 'if Cluvonus dies, Annias will start to move,

  and at that point he won't need the Elenian treasury any

  more.'

  "Let's press on then,' Sparhawk said. 'it's still a day or

  so to the lake.'

  'Sparhawk,' Kurik said critically, 'you've let your

  armour get rusty.'

  'Really?' SParhawk Pulled back his sodden black cloak

  and looked at his red-tinged shoulder-plates with some

  surprise.

  'Couldn't you find the oil-bottle, My Lord?'

  'I had my mind on other things.'

  'Obviously. '

  'I'm sorry. I'll deal with it.'

  'You wouldn't know how. Don't fool with the armour,

  Sparhawk. I'll tend to it.'

  Sparhawk looked around at his companions. 'if anybody

  makes an issue of this, there's going to be a fight,'

  he said ominously.

  'We would sooner die than offend you, My Lord

  Sparhawk,' Bevier promised with an absolutely straight

  face. 'I appreciate that,' Sparhawk told him and then rode

  resolutely off into the driving rain, his rusty armour

  creaking.

  *Chapter8

  The ancient battlefield at Lake Randera in north central

  Lamorkand was even more desolate than they had been

  led to believe. It was a vast wasteland of turned-over

  earth with mounds of dirt heaped up everywhere. There

  were huge holes and trenches in the ground filled with

  muddy water, and the steady rain had turned the vast

  field into a quagmire.

  Kalten sat his horse beside Sparhawk, looking helplessly

  out at the muddy field, that seemed to stretch off to

  the horizon. 'Where do we start?' he asked, sounding

  baffled at the enormity of the task before them.

  Sparhawk remembered something. 'Bevier,' he called.

  The Arcian rode forward. 'Yes, Sparhawk?'

  "you said that you'd made a study of military history. '

  "yes.'

  'Since this was the biggest battle that's ever been

  fought, you probably devoted some time to it, didn't

  you!'

  'Of course.'

  'Do you think you might be able to locate the general

  area where the Thalesians were fighting?'

  'Give me a few moments to orient myself.' Bevier rode

  slowly out into the soggy field, looking around intently

  for some landmark. There,' he said finally, pointing

  towards a nearby hill that was half-obscured in the misty

  drizzle. 'That's where the troops of the King of Arcium

  made their stand against the hordes of Otha and their

  supernatural allies. They were hard-pressed, but they

  held on until the Knights of the Church reached this

  field.' He squinted thoughtfully into the rain. 'if my

  memory serves me correctly, the army of King Sarak of

  Thalesia swept down around the east side of the lake in a

  flanking manoeuvre. They ,would have fought much

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  farther to the east.'

  'At least that narrows things down a little bit,' Kalten

  said. 'Would the Genidian Knights have been with

  Sarak's army?' Bevier shook his head. 'All the Church Knights had

  been engaged in the campaign in Rendor. When word

  reached them of Otha's invasion, they sailed across the

  inner sea to Cammoria and then made a forced march to

  get here. They arrived on the field from the south.'

  'Sparhawk,' Talen said quietly, 'over there. Some

  people are trying to hide behind that big mound of dirt the

  one with that tree-stump half-way up the side.'

  Sparhawk carefully avoided turning. 'Could you get

  any kind of a look at them?'

  'I couldn't tell what kind of people they were,' the boy

  replied. 'They're all covered with mud.'

  'Did they have any kind of weapons?'

  "Shovels, mostly. I think a couple of them had crossbows.'

  'Lamorks, then,' Kalten said. 'Nobody else uses that

  weapon.'

  'Kurik,' Sparhawk said to his squire, 'what's the

  effective range of a crossbow?'

  'Two hundred paces with any kind of acuracy. After

  that, you have to rely on luck.'

  Sparhawk looked around, trying to appear casual. The

  heaped-up mound of dirt was perhaps fifty Yards away.

  'We'll want to go on that way,' he said in a voice loud

  enough to be heard by the lurking treasure-seekers. He

  raised one steel-gauntleted hand and pointed east. 'How

  many are there, Talen?' he asked quietly. '

  'I saw eight or ten. There could be more.'

  'Keep your eyes on them, but don't be too obvious

  about it. If any of them starts to raise his crossbow, warn

  US.'

  'Right.'

  Sparhawk started out at a steady trot. Faran's hooves

  splashed up t
he semi-liquid mud. 'Don't look back,' he

  warned the others.

  'Wouldn't a gallop be more appropriate about now?'

  Kalten asked in a strained voice.

  'Let's not let them know that we've seen them.

  'This is very hard on my nerves, Sparhawk,' Kalten

  muttered, shifting his shield. 'I've got this very uneasy

  feeling right between my shoulder-blades.'

  'So have I,' Sparhawk admitted. Talen, are they doing

  anything?'

  "just watching us,' the boy replied. 'I can see a head

  pop up every so often.'

  They trotted on, splashing through the mud.

  'We're almost clear,' Tynian said tensely.

  The rain's settling down around that hil,' Talen

  reported. 'I don't think they can see us now.'

  'Good,' Sparhawk said, letting out an explosive breath

  of relief. 'Let's slow down. It's obvious that we're not

  alone out here, and we don't want to blunder into

  anything.'

  'Nervous,' Ulath commented.

  'Wasn't it, though?' Tynian agreed.

  'I don't know why you were worried,' Ulath said,

  eyeing Tynian's massive Deiran armour, ' - considering

  all the steel you've got wrapped around you.'

  'At close range, a crossbow bolt will penetrate even

  this.' Tynian rapped his fist on the front of his armour. It

  made a ringing sound, almost like a bell. 'Sparhawk, the

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  next time you talk to the Hierocracy, why don't you

  suggest that they outlaw crossbows? I felt positively

  naked out there.'

  'How do you carry all that armour!' Kalten asked him.

  'Painfully, my friend, very painfully. The first time

  they strapped it on me, I collapsed. It took me an hour to

  get back on my feet.'

  'Keep your eyes open,' Sparhawk cautioned. 'A few

  Lamork treasure-hunters are one thing, but men controlled

  by the Seeker are something else, and if it had those

  men back there near the woods, it's certain to have some

  here as well.'

  They splashed on through the mud, looking about

  cautiously. Sparhawk consulted his map again, shielding

  it from the rain with his cloak. 'The city of Randera's up

  on the east shore of the lake,' he said. 'Bevier, did any of

  your books say anything about whether the Thalesians

  occupied it?'

  'That portion of the battle is a bit obscure in the

  chronicles I've read,' the white-cloaked knight replied.

  'The only accounts of that part of the battle just say that

  the Zemochs occupied Randera farely early in their

  campaign. Whether or not the Thalesians did anything

  about that, I simply don't know.'

  'They wouldn't have,' Ulath declared. 'Thalesians

  have never been very good at sieges. We don't have that

  kind of patience. King Sarak's army probably by-passed

  it.'

  'This might be easier than I thought,' Kalten said. 'The

  only area we have to search is what lies between Randera

  and the south end of the lake.'

  'Don't get your hopes up too much, Kalten,' Sparhawk

  told him. 'it's still a lot of ground.' He looked off into the

  drizzle towards the lake. 'The lake-shore seems to be

  sand, and wet sand is better to ride on than mud.' He

  turned Faran and led the others towards the lake.

  The sandy beach that stretched off into the distance

  along the south shore of the lake did not seem to have

  been excavated in the same way the rest of the field had.

  Kalten looked around as they rode out onto the expanse

  of damp sand. 'I wonder why they haven't been digging

  here,' he said.

  'High water,' Ulath replied cryptically.

  'I beg your pardon?'

  'The water level rises in the winter, and it washes the

  sand back into any holes they might have dug.'

  'Oh. That makes sense, I suppose."

  They rode cautiously along the 'edge of the water for

  the next half-hour.

  'How far do we have to go?' Kalten asked Sparhawk.

  'You're the one with the map. '

  Ten leagues, anyway,' Sparhawk replied. 'This beach

  seems to be open enough to make a gallop safe.' He

  nudged Faran with his heels and led the way.

  The rain continued unabated, and the dimpled surface

  of the lake was the colour of lead. They had ridden some

  miles along the' water's edge when they saw another

  group of men digging somewhat furtively out in the

  sodden field.

  'Pelosians,' ulath disdainfully identified them.

  'How can you tell?' Kalten asked him.

  'Those silly pointed hats.'

  'Oh.'

  'I think it fits the shape of their heads. They probably

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  heard rumours about the treasure and came down from

  the north. do you want us to run them off, Sparhawk?'

  'Let them dig. They're not bothering us - at least not as

  long as they stay where they are. Men who belong to the

  Seeker wouldn't be interested in treasure.'

  They rode on along the beach until late afternoon.

  'What do you say to making camp up there?' Kurik

  suggested, pointing to a large pile of driftwood just

  ahead. 'I've got some dry wood in one of the packs, and

  we ought to be able to find more near the bottom of that

  pile. '

  Sparhawk looked up at the dripping clouds, gauging

  the time of day. 'It's time to stop anyway,' he agreed.

  They reined in beside the driftwood, and Kurik built

  his fire. Berit and Talen began pulling relatively dry sticks

  out from under the pile, but after a little while Berit went

  back to his horse for his battle-axe.

  'What are you going to do with that?' ulath asked him.

  'I'm going to chop up some of those larger pieces with

  it, Sir Ulath.'

  'No, you're not.'

  Berit looked a bit startled.

  'That's not what it was made for. You'll dull the edge,

  and you might need that edge before long.'

  'My axe is in that pack over there, Berit,' Kurik told the

  shame-faced novice. 'Use that. I don't plan to hit

  anybody with it.'

  'Kurik,' Sephrenia said from inside the tent Sparhawk

  and Kalten had just erected for her and Flute, 'put up a

  cover near the fire, and string a rope under it.' She

  emerged from the tent wearing a Styric smock and

  carrying her dripping white robe in one hand and Flute's

  garment in the other. 'It's time to dry out some clothes.'

  After the sun went down, a night breeze began to blow

  in off the lake, making the tents flap and tossing the

  flames of their fire. They ate a meagre supper and then

  sought their beds.

  About midnight, Kalten came back from where he had

  been standing watch. He shook Sparhawk awake. 'It's

  your turn,' he said quietly to avoid waking the others.

  'All right.' Sparhawk sat up, yawning. 'Did you find a

  good place?'

  'That hill just behind the beach. Watch your step

  climbing it, though. They've bee
n digging in the sides of

  it.'

  Sparhawk began to put on his armour.

  'We're not alone here, Sparhawk,' Kalten said, removing

  his helmet and his dripping black cloak. 'I saw a halfdozen

  fires a good way out in that field.'

  'More Pelosians and Lamorks?'

  'it's a little hard to say. A fire doesn't usually have any

  kind of identifying marks on it.'

  'Don't tell Talen and Berit. I don't want them creeping

  around in the dark any more. Get some sleep, Kalten.

  Tomorrow might be a long day.'

  Sparhawk carefully climbed the pitted side of the hill

  and took up a position on top. He immediately saw the

  fires Kalten had mentioned, but saw also that they were a

  long way off and posed little threat.

  They had been long on the road now, and a growing

  sense of impatient urgency gnawed at Sparhawk. Ehlana

  sat alone in the silent throne-room back in Cimmura with

  her life ticking away. A few more months and her heartbeat

  would falter and then stop. Sparhawk pulled his

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  mind away from that thought. As he usually did when

  that apprehension came over him, he deliberately set his

  mind on other matters and other memorieS.

  The rain was chil and damp and unpleasant, so he

  turned his thoughts to Rendor, where the blistering sun

  burned all trace of moisture from the air. He remembered

  ' the lines of black-veiled women gracefully going to the

  well at dawn before the sun made the streets of Jiroch

  unbearable. He remembered Lillias with a wry smile, and

  he wondered if the melodramatic scene in the street near

  the docks had earned her the kind of respect she so

  ' desperately needed.

  And then he remembered Martel. That night in

  Arasham's tent in Dabour had been a good one. To see

  his hated enemy filled with chagrin and frustration had

  been almost as satisfying as killing him might have been.

  "Someday, though, Martel,' he muttered. 'You have a lot

  to pay for, and I think it's almost time for me to collect.' It

  was a good thought, and Sparhawk dwelt on it as he

  stood in the rain. He thought about it in some detail until

  it was time to rouse Ulath for his turn on watch.

  They broke camp at daybreak and rode on down the

  rain-swept beach.

  About mid-morning, Sephrenia reined in her white

  palfrey with a warning hiss. 'Zemochs,' she said sharply.

  'Where?' Sparhawk asked.

  'I can't be sure. They're close, though, and their