north coast, but Thalesian ships don't always do that.
We're reputed to be pirates in some quarters, and Sarak
might have wanted to avoid the tiresome questions and
just drove his prow up onto some deserted beach.'
'That makes it a little more difficult,' Count Ghasek
said. 'if I knew where he'd landed, I'd know which
districts he might have passed through. Does Thalesian
tradition provide any description of the king?'
'Not in very much detail,' Ulath replied, 'only that he
was about seven feet tall.'
That helps a bit. The common people probably
wouldn't have known his name, but a man of that size
would have been remembered.' He began to leaf through
his manuscript. 'Could he possibly have landed on the
north coast of Deira?' he asked.
It's possible, but unlikely,' Ulath said. 'Relations
between Deira and Thalesia were a bit strained in those
days. Sarak probably wouldn't have put Himself in a
position to have been captured.'
'Let's begin up around the port of Apalia then. The
shortest route to the east side of Lake Randera would run
south from there.' He began to leaf through the pages in
front of him. He frowned. There doesn't seem to be
anything useful here,' he said. 'How large was the King's
party?'
'Not very sizeable,' ulath rumbled. 'Sarak left Emsat in
a hurry, and he only took a few retainers with him.'
'All of the accounts I picked up in Apalia mention large
bodies of Thalesian troops. Of course it could be as you
suggested, Sir Ulath. King Sarak might have landed on
some lonely beach and by-passed Apalia entirely. Let's
try the port of Nadera before we start combing beaches
and isolated fishing vilages.' He consulted a map and
then turned to a place about half-way through the
manuscript and began to skim through it. "I think we've
got something.' he exclaimed with a Scholars enthusiasm. 'A
peasant up near Nadera told me about a
Thalesian ship that slipped past the city during the night
early in the campaign and sailed several leagues up the
river before she landed. A number of warriors disembarked,
and one of them stood head and shoulders above
the rest. Was there anything unusual about Sarak's
crown?'
"It had a large blue jewel on top of it,' Ulath said, his
face intent.
'That was him, then,' the count said exultantly. 'The
story makes particular mention of that jewel. They say
that it was the size of a man's fist.'
Sparhawk let out an explosive breath. 'At least Sarak's
ship didn't sink at sea,' he said with relief.
The count took a length of string and stretched it
diagonally across the map. Then he dipped his pen into
his inkwell and made a number of notes. 'All right, then,
he said crisply. 'Assuming King Sarak took the shortest
course from Nadera to the battlefield, he'd have passed
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through the districts on this list. I've done research in all
of them. We're getting closer, Sir Knights. We'll track
down this king of yours yet.' He began to leaf through
rapidly. 'No mention of him here,' he muttered, half to
himself, "but there weren't any engagements in that
district.' He read on, his lips pursed. 'Here!' he said, his
face breaking into a smile of triumph. ''A group of
Thalesians rode through a village twenty leagues to the
north of Lake Venne. Their leader was a very large man
wearing a crown. We're narrowing it down.'
Sparhawk found that he was actually holding his
breath. He had been on many missions and quests in his
life, but this searching out a trail through paper had a
strange excitement to it. He began to understand how a
man could devote his life to scholarship with absolute
contentment.
'And here it is!' the count said excitedly. 'We've found
him.'
'Where?' Sparhawk demanded eagerly.
"I'll read you the entire passage,' the count replied.
"you understand, of course, that I've cast the account in
more gentlemanly language than that of the man who
told it to me.' He smiled. 'The language of peasants and
serfs is colourful, but hardly suitable for a scholarly
work.' He squinted at the page. 'Oh, yes. Now I
remember. This fellow was a serf. His master told me that
the fellow liked to tell stories. I found him breaking up
clods with a mattock in a field near the east side of Lake
Venne. This is what he told me:
""it was early in the campaign, and the Zemochs
under Otha had penetrated the eastern border of
,Lamorkand and were devastating the countryside as
they marched. The western Elenian kings were rushing
to meet them with all the forces they could muster, and
large bodies of troops were crossing into Lamorkand
from the west, but they were primarily farther south than
Lake Venne. The troops coming down from the north
were mostly Thalesians. Even before the Thalesian army
landed, however, an advance party of them rode south
past Lake Venne.
"'Otha, as we all know, had sent out skirmishers and
patrolls well in advance of his main force. It was one of
those patrols that intercepted the party of Thalesians
mentioned above at a place called Giant's Mound." '
was the place named before or after the battle?' Ulath
asked.
"It almost had to have been after,' the count replied.
Pelosians don't erect burial mounds. That's a Thalesian
custom, isn't it?'
'Right, and the word "giant" describes Sarak rather
well, wouldn't you say?'
'Exactly my thought. There's more, though.' The
count continued to read. "'The engagement between
the Thalesians and the Zemochs was short and very
savage. The Zemochs vastly outnumbered the small
band of northern warriors and soon swarmed them
under. Among the last to fall was the leader, a man of
enormous proportions. One of his retainers, though
sorely wounded, took something from his fallen leader's
body and fled west towards the lake with it. There is no
clear account of what it was that he took or what he did
with it. The Zemochs pursued the retainer hotly, and he
died of his wounds on the shore of the lake. However, a
column of Alcione Knights, men who had been returned
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to their Mother-house in Deira to recuperate from
wounds received in the campaign in Rendor, happened
by on their way to Lake Randera and exterminated the
Zemoch patrol to the last man. They buried the faithful
retainer and rode on, by purest chance missing the site of
the original engagement.
"'As it happened, a sizeable force of Thalesians had
been following the first party by no more than a day.
When the local peasants informed them of what ha
d
transpired, they buried their countrymen and erected the
mound over their graves. This second Thalesian force
never reached Lake Randera, since they were ambushed
two days later, and all were slain." '
'And that explains why no one ever knew what had
happened to Sarak,' Ulath said. 'There was no one left
alive to tell anybody about it.'
'This retainer,' Bevier mused, 'might it have been the
king's crown he took?'
"It's possible,' Ulath conceded. 'More likely, though, it
would have been His sword. Thalesians put great value
on royal swords.'
"It won't be hard to find out,' Sparhawk said. 'We'll go
to Giant's Mound and Tynian can raise Sarak's ghost.
He'll be able to tell us what happened to his sword - and
his crown.'
"Here's something odd,' the count said. "I remember
that I almost didn't write it down because it happened
after the battle. The serfs have been seeing a monstrously
deformed shape in the marshes around Lake Venne for
centuries now.'
"Some swamp creature?' Bevier suggested. 'A bear
perhaps?'
"I think that serfs would recognize a bear,' the count
said. ,
'Maybe a moose,' Ulath said. 'The first time I ever saw
a moose, I couldn't believe anything could get that big,
and a moose hasn't got the prettiest face in the world.'
"I remember that the serfs said that the thing walks on
its hind legs.'
'Could it possibly be a Troll?' Sparhawk asked. 'That
one who was roaring outside our camp by the lake?'
'Did the serfs describe it as shaggy and very tall?' Ulath
asked.
"It's shaggy right enough, but they say it's squat, and
its limbs are all twisted.'
Ulath frowned. 'That doesn't sound like any Troll I've
ever heard about - except maybe - ' His eyes suddenly
went wide. 'Ghwerig,' he shouted, snapping his fingers.
"It has to be Ghwerig' . That nails it down, Sparhawk.
Ghwerig's looking for Bhelliom, and he knows right
where to look.'
"I think we'd better go back to Lake Venne,' Sparhawk
said, 'and just as fast as we can. I don't want Ghwerig to
find Bhelliom before I do. I definitely don't want to have
to wrestle him for it.'
*Chapter17
'I am eternally in your debt, my friends,' Ghasek said to
them in the castle courtyard the next morning as they
were preparing to leave.
'And we are in yours as well, My Lord,' Sparhawk
assured him. 'Without your aid, we'd have had no
chance of finding what we seek.'
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'God speed then, Sir Sparhawk,' Ghasek said, shaking
the big Pandion's hand warmly.
Sparhawk led the way out of the courtyard and back
down the narrow track to the foot of the crag.
'I wonder what's going to happen to him,' Talen said
rather sadly as they rode along.
'He has no choice,' Sephrenia said. 'He has to stay
there until his sister dies. She's no longer a danger, but
she still has to be guarded and cared for.'
"I'm afraid the rest of his life is going to be very lonely,'
Kalten sighed.
'He has his books and chronicles,' Sparhawk diSagreed. '
That's all the company a scholar really needs.'
Ulath was muttering under his breath.
'What's the trouble?' Tynian asked him.
"I should have known that the Troll at Lake Venne was
there for some specific reason,' Ulath replied. "I could
have saved us some time if I'd investigated.'
'Would you have recognized Ghwerig if you'd seen
him?'
Ulath nodded. 'He's dwarfed, and there aren't very
many dwarfed Trolls about. She-Trolls usually eat
deformed cubs as soon as they're born.'
'That's a brutal practice.'
'Trolls aren't famous for their gentle dispositions. They
don't even get along with each other most of the time.'
The sun was very bright that morning, and the birds
sang in the bushes near the deserted village in the centre
of the field below Count Ghasek's castle. Talen turned
aside to ride into the village.
There won't be anything in there to steal,' Kurik called
after him.
just curious, that's all,' Talen called back. "I'll catch up
with you in a couple of minutes.'
"do you want me to go and get him?' Berit asked.
let him look around,' Sparhawk said. 'He'll complain
all day if we don't.'
Then Talen came galloping out of the village. His face
was deathly pale, and his eyes were wide. When he
reached them, he tumbled from his horse and lay on the
ground retching and unable to sPeak.
"we'd better go and have a look,' Sparhawk said to
Kalten. the rest of you wait here.'
The two knights rode warily into the deserted village
with their lances at the ready.
He went this way,' Kalten said quietly, pointing at the
traks of Talen's horse in the muddy street with the tip of
his lance.
Sparhawk nodded, and they followed the tracks to a
house that was somewhat larger than the others in the
vilage. The two dismounted, drew their swords and
entered.
The rooms inside were dusty and devoid of any
furniture. 'Nothing at all in here,' Kalten said. "I wonder
what frightened him so much.'
Sparhawk opened the door to a room at the back of the
house and looked inside. 'You'd better go and get
Sephrenia,' he said bleakly.
'What is it?'
'A child. It's not alive, and it's been dead for a long
time.'
'Are you sure?'
'Look for yourself.'
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Kalten looked into the room and made a gagging
sound. 'Are you sure you want her to see that?' he asked.
'We need to know what happened.'
"I'll go and get her then.'
The two went back outside. Kalten remounted and
rode out to where the others waited while Sparhawk
stood near the door of the house. A few minutes later, the
blond knight returned with Sephrenia.
"I told her to leave flute with Kurik,' Kalten said. 'We
wouldn't want her to see what's in there.'
'No,' Sparhawk replied sombrely. 'Little mother,' he
apologised to Sephrenia, 'this will not be pleasant.'
'Few things are,' she said resolutely.
They took her inside the house to that back room.
She took one quick look and then turned aside.
'Kalten,' she said, 'go and dig a grave.'
"I don't have a shovel,' he objected.
Then use your hands!' her tone was intense, almost
savage.
'Yes, Sephrenia.' He seemed awed by her uncharacteristic
vehemence. He left the house quickly.
'Oh, poor thing,' Sephrenia mourned, hovering over
the desiccated little body.
The body of the child was withered and dry. Its skin
was grey
, and its sunken eyes were open.
'Bellina again?' Sparhawk asked. His voice seemed
loud, even to himself.
'No,' she replied. 'This is the work of the Seeker. ThiS
is how it feeds. Here,' she pointed at dry puncture marks
on the child's body, 'and here, and here, and here. This is
where the Seeker fed. It draws out the body's fluids and
leaves only a dry husk.'
'Not any more,' Sparhawk said, his fist closing about
the haft of Aldreas's spear. 'The next time we meet, it
dies.'
'can you afford to do that, dear one!'
"I can't afford not to. I'll avenge this child - against the
Seeker or Azash or even against the gates of Hell itself.'
'"you're angry, Sparhawk.'
"yes. You could say that.' It was stupid and served no
purpose, but Sparhawk suddenly tore his sword from its
scabbard and destroyed an inoffending wall with it. It
didn't accomplish anything, but it made him feel a little
better.
The others came silently down into the village and to
the open grave Kalten had grubbed out of the earth with
his bare hands. Sephrenia came out of the house with the
dry body of the child in her arms. Flute came forward
with a light linen cloth, and the two carefully wrapped
the dead child in it. Then they deposited it in the rude
grave.
'Bevier,' Sephrenia said, 'would you? This is an Elene
child, and you are the most devout among these
knights.'
"I am unworthy.' Bevier was weeping openly.
'Who is worthy, dear one?' she said. 'Will you send this
unknown child into the darkness alone?'
Bevier stared at her and then fell to his knees beside the
grave and began to recite the ancient prayer for the dead
of the Elene church.
Rather peculiarly, Flute came up beside the kneeling
Arcian. Her fingers gently wove through his curly blueblack
hair in a strangely comforting way. For some
reason, Sparhawk began to feel that the strange little girl
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might be far, far older than any of them realized. Then
she raised her pipes. The hymn was an ancient one,
almost at the core of the Elene faith, but there was a
minor Styric overtone to it. Briefly, in the sound of the
little girl's song, Sparhawk began to perceive some
unbelievable possibilities.
When the burial was complete, they mounted and
rode on. They were all very quiet for the rest of that day,
and they stopped for the night at the campsite beside the
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