2 - The Ruby Knight
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The Domi wiped his ~greasy fingers on his leather
breaches. well, I suppose we should be on our way, friend
Tynian,' he said. 'Slow riding earns no bountty.' He
paused. 'Are you sure you don't want to sell that boy?'
'He's the son of a friend of mine,' Tynian said. "I
wouldn't mind getting rid of the boy, but the friendship's
valuable to me.'
"I understand perfectly, friend Tynian.' Kring bowed.
'Commend me to God next time you talk with Him.' He
vaulted into his saddle from a standing start, and his
horse was running before he was even settled.
Ulath walked up to Tynian and gravely shook hiS
hand. 'You're fast on your feet,' he observed. 'That was
absolutely brilliant.'
"It was a fair trade,' Tynian said modestly. 'We get the
Zemochs off our backs, and Kring gets the ears. No
bargain between friends is fair unless both sides get
something they want.'
'Very, very true, ulath agreed. "I've never heard of
selling ears before, though. Usually it's heads.'
'Ears are lighter,' Tynian said professionally, 'and they
don't stare at you every time you open your saddlebags.'
'Would you gentlemen mind?' Sephrenia said tartly.
'We have children with us, after all.'
'Sorry, little mother,' Ulath apologized easily. 'Just
talking shop.'
She stalked back to the wagon, muttering. Sparhawk
was fairly certain that some of the Styric words she was
saying under her breath were never used in polite
society. Who were they?' Bevier asked, looking at the warriors
who were rapidly disappearing towards the south.
They're of the Peloi,' Tynian replied, 'nomadic horse
herders. They were the first Elenes in this region. The
kingdom of Pelosia is named after them.'
'Are they as fierce as they look?'
'Even fiercer. Their presence on the border was probably
why Otha invaded Lamorkand instead of Pelosia.
No one in his right mind attacks the Peloi.'
They reached Lake Venne late the following day. It
was a large, shallow body of water into which nearby
peat-bogs continually drained, making the water turbid
and brown-stained. flute seemed strangely agitated as
they made camp some distance back from the marshy
lakeshore, and as soon as Sephrenia's tent was erected,
she darted inside and refused to come out.
'What's the matter with her?' Sparhawk asked
Sephrenia, absently rubbing the ring finger on his left
hand. It seemed to be throbbing for some reason.
"I really don't know,' Sephrenia frowned. "It's almost
as if she's afraid of something.'
After they had eaten and Sephrenia had carried Flute's
supper in to her, Sparhawk closely questioned each of his
injurd companions. They all claimed perfect health, a
claim he was sure was spurious. 'All right, then.' He gave
up finally. 'We'll go back to doing it the old way. You
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gentlemen can have your armour back, and we'll try a
canter tomorrow. No galloping, no running and if we run
into any trouble, try to hold back unless things get serious.'
"He's just like an old mother hen, isn't he?' Kalten
observed to Tynian.
'if he scratches up a worm, you get to eat it,' Tynian
replied.
'Thanks all the same, Tynian,' Kalten declined, But
I've already had my supper.'
Sparhawk went to bed.
It was about midnight, and the moon was very bright
outside the tent. Sparhawk sat bolt upright in his
blankets, jolted awake by a hideous, roaring bellow.
'Sparhawk!' Ulath said sharply from outside the tent.
'Rouse the others, fast!'
Sparhawk shook Kalten awake and pulled on his
mail-shirt. He grabbed up his sword and ducked out of
the tent. He looked around quickly and saw that the
others needed no rousing. They were already struggling
into their mail and were taking up weapons. ulath stood
at the edge of camp, his round shield in place and his axe
in his hand. He was looking off intently into the
darkness. Sparhawk joined him.
'What is it?' he asked quietly.
'What makes a noise like that?'
'Troll,' ulath replied shortly.
'Here? In Pelosia? Ulath, that's impossible. There
aren't any Trolls in Pelosia.'
'Why don't you go out there and explain that to him?'
'Are you absolutely sure it's a Troll?'
"I've heard that sound too many times to miss it. It's a
Troll, all right, and he's absolutely enraged about something.'
'Maybe we should build up the fire,' Sparhawk suggested
as the others joined them.
"It wouldn't do any good,' Ulath said. 'Trolls aren't
afraid of fire.'
'You know their language, don't you?'
Ulath grunted.
'Why don't you call to'him and tell him that we mean
him no harm?'
'Sparhawk,' Ulath said with a pained look, 'in this
situation, it's the other way around. If he attacks, try to
strike at his legs,' he warned them all. 'if you swing at hiS
body, he'll jerk your weapons out of your hands and feed
them to you. All right, I'll try to talk with him.' He lifted
his head and bellowed something in a horrid, guttural
language.
Something out there in the darkness replied, snarling
and spitting.
"what did it say?' Sparhawk asked. .
'He's cursing. It may take him an hour or so to get
finished. Trolls have a lot of swear-words in their
language.' Ulath frowned. 'He doesn't really sound all
that sure of himself,' he said, sounding puzzled.
'Perhaps our numbers are making it cautious,' Bevier
suggested.
They don't know what the word means,' Ulath
disagreed. "I've seen a lone Troll attack a walled city.'
There was another snarling bellow from out in the
darkness, this time a little closer.
'Now, what's that supposed to mean?' Ulath said in
bafflement.
'What?' Sparhawk asked.
'He's demanding that we turn the thief over to him.'
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'Talen?'
"I don't know. How could Talen pick a Troll's pocket?
They don't have pockets.'
Then they heard the sound of flute's pipes coming from
Sephrenia's tent. Her melody was stern and vaguely
threatening. After a moment, the beast out in the darkness
howled - a sound partially of pain and partially of
frustration. Then the howling faded off into the distance.
'Why don't we all go to Sephrenia's tent and kiss that
little girl about the head and shoulders for a while?' Ulath
suggested.
'What happened?' Kalten asked.
"Somehow she ran him off. I've never seen a Troll run
from anything. I saw one try to attack an avalanche once.
I think we'd better talk with Sephrenia. Something's
going on here that I don't understand.'
/>
Sephrenia, however, was as puzzled as they. She was
holding Flute in her arms, and the little girl was crying.
'Please, gentlemen,' the Styric woman said softly, 'just
leave her alone for now. She's very, very upset.'
"I'll stand watch with you, Ulath,' Tynian said as they
came out of the tent. 'That bellow froze my blood. I'll
never get back to sleep now.'
They reached the city of Venne two days later. Once
the Troll had been frightened away, they neither saw nor
heard any further sign of him. VeNNe was not a very
attractive city. Because local taxes were based on the
number of square feet on the ground floor of each house,
the citizens had circumvented the law by building
overhanging second storeys. In most cases, the overhang
was so extreme that the streets were like narrow,
dark tunnels, even at noon. They put up at the cleanest
inn they could find, and Sparhawk took Kurik and went
in search of information.
For some reason, however, the word 'Ghasek' made the
citizens of Venne very nervous. The answers Sparhawk
and Kurik received were vague and contradictory, and the
citizens usually went away from them very fast.
'Over there,' Kurik said shortly, pointing at a man
staggering from the door of a tavern. 'He's too drunk to
run.' Sparhawk looked critically at the reeling man. 'He
could also be too drunk to talk,' he added.
Kurik's methods, however, were brutally direct. He
crossed the street, seized the drunkard by the scruff of
the neck, dragged him to the end of the street and shoved
his head into the fountain that stood there. 'Now, then,'
he said pleasantly, "I think we understand each other.
I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to
give me the answers - unless you can figure out a way to
"sprout gils.'
The fellow was spluttering and coughing. Kurik
pounded on his back until the paroxysm passed.
'All right,' Kurik said, 'the first question is "Where is
Ghasek?"
The drunken man's face went pasty white, and his
eyes bulged in horror.
Kurik shoved his head under water again. 'This is
starting to make me very tired,' he said conversationally
to Sparhawk, looking across the bubbles coming up out
of the fountain. He pulled the fellow out by the hair. 'This
isn't going to get any more enjoyable, friend,' he warned.
"I really think you ought to start to co-operate. Let's try
again. Where is Ghasek?'
"-north,' the fellow choked, spewing water all over
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the street. He seemed to be almost sober now.
"we know that. Which road do we take?'
'Go out of the north gate. A mile or so after you get out
of town, the road branches. Take the left fork.'
'You're doing fine. See, you're even staying sort of dry.
How far is it to Ghasek?'
'A-about forty leagues.' The man writthed in Kurik's
iron grip.
'Last question,' Kurik promised. 'Why does everybody
in Venne wet himself whenever he hears the name
Ghasek?'
'I-it's a horrible place. Things happen there that are too
hideous to describe.'
"I've got a strong stomach,' Kurik assured him. 'Go
ahead. Shock me.'
'They drink blood up there - and bathe in it - and even
feed on human flesh. It's the most awful place in the
world. Even to mention its name brings down a curse on
your head.' The man shuddered and began to weep.
'There, there,' Kurik said, releasing him and patting
him gently on the shoulder. He gave the man a coin. 'You
seem to have got all wet, friend,' he added. 'Why don't
you go back to the tavern and see if you can get dry?'
The fellow scurried off.
'Doesn't sound like too pleasant a place, does it?' Kurik
said.
'No, not really,' Sparhawk admitted, "but we're going
there all the same.'
*Chapter13
Because the road they proposed to follow was reputed to
be not very good, they arranged to leave the wagon with
the innkeeper and rode out on horseback the next
morning through shadowy streets illuminated by
torches. Sparhawk had passed on the information Kurik
had wrung out of the drunken man the day before, and
they all looked around warily as they passed out through
the north gate of Venne.
'it's probably just some local superstition,' Kalten
scoffed. "I've heard awful stories about places before, and
they usually turned out to be about things that had
happened generations before.'
"It doesn't really make much sense,' Sparhawk agreed.
'That tanner back in Paler said that Count Ghasek's a
scholar. That's not usually the sort of man who goes in
for exotic entertainments. Let's stay alert anyway. We're
a long way from home, and it might be a little hard to call
in help.'
'I'll hold back a bit,' Berit volunteered. "I think we'd all
feel better if we're sure those Zemochs aren't still trailing
US.'
"I think we can count on the Domi's efficiency,' Tynian
said.
"Still - ' Berit said.
'Go ahead, Berit,' Sparhawk agreed. "It's just as well
not to take chances.'
They rode at an easy canter, and as the sun was rising
they reached the fork in the road. The left fork was
rutted, narrow and poorly maintained. The rain which
had swept through the area for some days back had left
muddy and generally unpleasant, and thick brush lined
both sides of it.
'it's going to be slow going,' Ulath noted. "I've seen
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smoother roads, and it's not going to get better once we
get up into those hills.' He looked toward the low range
of forested mountains lying just ahead.
'We'll do the best we can,' Sparhawk said, 'but you're
right. Forty leagues is quite a distance, and a bad road
isn't going to make it seem any shorter.'
They started up the muddy road at a trot. As Ulath had
predicted, it grew steadily worse. After about an hour,
they entered the forest. The trees were evergreens, and
they cast a sombre shade, but the air was cool and damp,
a welcome relief for the armoured knights. They stopped
briefly for a meal of bread and cheese at noon and then
pressed on, climbing higher and higher into the
mountains.
The region was ominously deserted, and even most of
the birds seemed muted, the only exception being the
sooty ravens, who seemed to croak from every tree. As
evening began to settle over the gloomy wood, Sparhawk
led the others some distance away from the road,
and they made camp for the night.
The dismal forest had subdued even the irrepressible
Kalten, and they were all very quiet as they ate their
evening meal. After they had eaten, they
went to their
beds.
It was about midnight when Ulath woke Sparhawk to
take his turn on watch. 'There seem to be a lot of wolves
out there,' the big Genidian said quietly. "It might not be
a bad idea to put your back to a tree.'
"I've never heard of a wolf attacking a man,' Sparhawk
replied, also speaking softly to avoid waking the others.
'They usually don't - unless they're rabid.'
'That's a cheerful thought.
"I'm glad you liked it. I'm going to bed. It's been a long
day.'
Sparhawk left the circle of firelight and stopped about
fifty yards back in the forest to allow his eyes to adjust to
the darkness. He heard the howling of wolves back off in
the woods. He thought he had found the source of many
of the stories that had been circulating about Ghasek.
"this gloomy forest alone would be sufficient to stir up
fears in superstitious people. Add to that the flocks of
ravens - always a bird of ill omen - and the chill howling
of packs of wolves, and it was easy to see how the stories
had started. Sparhawk carefully circled the camp, his
eyes and ears alert.
Forty leagues. Given the worsening condition of the
road, it would be unlikely that they could cover more
than ten leagues a day. Sparhawk chafed at their slow
pace, but there was nothing he could do about it. They
had to go to Ghasek. The thought came to him that the
count might very well not have found anyone who knew
the whereabouts of King Sarak's grave, and that this
tedious and time-consuming trek might all be for
nothing. He quickly pushed that thought out of his
mind.
Idly, still watching the surrounding woods, he began
to wonder what his life would be like if they were
successful in curing Ehlana. He had known her only as a
child, but she was no longer a little girl. He had received a
few hints about her adult personality, but nothing
definite enough to make him feel that he really knew her.
She would be a good queen, of that he was certain, but
exactly what kind of a woman was she?
He saw a movement out in the shadows and stopped,
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his hand going to his sword as he searched the darkness.
Then he saw a pair of blazing green eyes that reflected
back the light of their fire. It was a wolf. The animal
stared at the flames for a long time, then turned to slink
silently back into the forest.
Sparhawk realized that he had been holding his breath,