small lake where they had encountered the wandering
minstrel. The man was gone.
"I was afraid of that,' Sparhawk said. "It was too much
to hope for that he'd still be here.'
'Maybe we'll catch up with him farther south,' Kalten
suggested. That horse of his wasn't in very good shape.'
"what can we do about him even if we do catch him?'
Tynian said. "you weren't planning to kill him, were you?"
'Only as a last resort,' Kalten replied. 'Now that
Sephrenia knows how Bellina influenced him, she could
probably cure him.'
'Your confidence is very nice, Kalten,' she said, "but it
might be misplaced.'
'Will the spell she put on him ever wear off?' Bevier
asked.
'To some degree. He'll grow less desperate as time
goes on, but he'll never be entirely free of it. It might even
make him write better poetry, though. The important
thing is that he'll grow less and less infectious. Unless he
meets a fair number of people in the next week or so, he
won't be much of a danger to the count, and neither will
those servants.'
That's something at least,' the young Cyrinic said. He
frowned slightly. 'Since I was already infected, why did
that creature come to me that night? Wasn't that just a
waste of her time?' Bevier seemed still strongly shaken by
the funeral service for the dead child.
"It was for reinforcement, Bevier,' she told him. 'You
were agitated, but you wouldn't have gone as far as to
attack your companions. She had to make sure you'd go
to any lengths to free her from that tower.'
As they were setting up their night's camp, something
occurred to Sparhawk. He went over to where Sephrenia
sat by the fire with her teacup in her hands. 'Sephrenia,'
he said, 'what's Azash up to? Why is He suddenly going
out of His way to convert Elenes? He's never done that
before, has He?'
'Do you remember what the ghost of King Aldreas said
to you that night in the crypt?' she said. 'That the time
had come for Bhelliom to re-emerge?'
"yes.'
'Azash knows that too, and He's growing desperate.
I'd guess that He's found that His Zemochs aren't
reliable. They follow orders, but they're not very bright.
They've been digging up that battlefield for centuries
now, and they just keep ploughing over the same
ground. We've found out more about Bhelliom's location
in the past few weeks than they've found out in the past
five hundred years.'
we were lucky.'
'That's not entirely true, Sparhawk. I know that I tease
you sometimes about Elene logic, but that was precisely
what's got us so close to Bhelliom. A Zemoch is incapable
of logic. That's Azash's weakness. A Zemoch doesn't
think because he doesn't have to. Azash does all his
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thinking for him. That's why Azash so desperately needs
Elene converts. He doesn't need their adoration, He
needs their minds. He has Zemochs all over the western
kingdoms gathering old stories - in the same way that we
did. I think He believes that one of them will stumble
over the right story and that then His Elene converts will
be able to piece together the meaning of it.'
'That's the long way around, isn't it.'
'Azash has time. He's not pressed by the same sense of
urgency that we are.'
Later that night, Sparhawk was standing watch some
distance away from the fire, looking out over the small
lake that glittered in the moonlight. Again, the howls of
wolves echoed back in the dismal woods, but now for
some reason the sound did not seem so ominous. The
ghastly spirit which had haunted this forest was locked
away forever, and the wolves were only wolves now and
not harbingers of evil. The Seeker, of course, was an
entirely different matter. Grimly Sparhawk promised
himself that the next time they encountered it, he would
bury the spear of Aldreas in the hideous creature.
'Sparhawk, where are you?' It was Talen. He spoke
quietly and stood near the fire peering out into the
darkness.
'Over here.'
The boy came towards him, putting his feet down
carefully to avoid hidden obstructions on the ground.
'What's the problem?' Sparhawk asked him.
"I couldn't sleep. I thought you might like some
company.'
"I appreciate that, Talen. Standing watch is a lonely
business.'
"I'm certainly glad to be away from that castle,' Talen
said. "I've never been so scared in my life.'
"I was a little nervous myself,' Sparhawk admitted.
'Do you know something? There were all sorts of very
nice things in Ghasek's castle, and I didn't once think of
stealing any of them. Isn't that odd?'
'Maybe you're growing up.'
"I've known some very old thieves,' Talen disagreed.
Then he sighed disconsolately.
'Why so mournful, Talen?'
"I wouldn't tell just anyone this, Sparhawk, but it's not
as much fun as it used to be. Now that I know I can take
just about anything I want from almost anybody, the
thrill has sort of gone out of it.'
'Maybe you should look for another line of work.'
'What else am I suited for?'
'I'll give it some thought and let you know what I come
up with.'
Talen laughed suddenly.
'What's so funny?' Sparhawk asked him.
"I might have just a little trouble getting references,' the
boy replied, still laughing. 'My customers didn't usually
know they were doing business with me.'
Sparhawk grinned. "It could be a problem,' he agreed.
'We'll work something out.'
The boy sighed again. "It's almost' over, isn't it,
Sparhawk? We know where that king's buried now. All
we have left to do is go and dig up his crown, and then
we'll go back to Cimmura. You'll go to the palace, and I'll
go back to the streets.'
"I don't think so,' Sparhawk said. 'Maybe we can come
up with an alternative to the'streets.'
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'Maybe, but the minute it gets tedious, I'll just run
away again. I'm going to miss all this, you know?
there've been a few times when I was so scared I almost
wet myself, but there have been good times too. Those
are the ones I'll remember.'
'At least we gave you something.' Sparhawk put his
hand on the boy's shoulder. 'Go back to bed, Talen. We'll
be getting up early tomorrow.'
"whatever you say, Sparhawk.'
They set out at dawn, riding carefully along the rutted
road to avoid injury to the horses. They passed the
woodcutters' village without stopping and pressed on.
' How far do you make it?' Kalten asked, about midmorning.
'Three - maybe four more days - five more at the most, '
Sparhawk replied. 'Onc
e we get out of this forest, the
roads improve and we'll make better time.'
'Then all we have to do is find Giant's Mound.'
'That shouldn't be much of a problem. From what
Ghasek said, the local peasantry uses it as a landmark.
We'll ask around.'
%somebody do for you.'
'Do you remember what Sephrenia said at Alstrom's
castle back in Lamorkand?' Kalten said seriously. The
business about Bhelliom's reemergence ringing through
the whole world?'
'Vaguely,' Sparhawk replied.
'Then the minute we dig it up, Azash is going to know
about it, and the road back to Cimmura could be lined on
both sides with Zemochs. It could be a very nervous trip.'
Ulath was riding directly behind them. 'Not really,' he
disagreed. 'Sparhawk's already got the rings. I can teach
him a few words in the language of the Trolls. Once he's
got Bhelliom in his hands, there's almost nothing he
won't be able to do. He'll be able to bowl over whole
regiments of Zemochs.'
'is it really that powerful?'
'Kalten, you have no idea. If even half the stories are
true, Bhelliom can do almost anything. Sparhawk could
probably stop the sun with it, if he wanted to.'
Sparhawk looked back over his shoulder at Ulath. 'Do
you have to know Troll language to use Bhelliom?' he
asked.
"I'm not really sure,' Ulath replied, "but they say that
it's infused with the power of the Troll-Gods. They might
not respond to words spoken in Elene or Styric. The next
time I talk with a Troll-God, I'll ask Him.'
They camped in the forest again that night, and after
supper Sparhawk walked away from the fire to do some
thinking. Bevier quietly joined him. 'Will we stop in
Venne when we reach it?' the Cyrinic asked.
'More than likely,' Sparhawk replied. "I doubt that
we'd be able to get much farther tomorrow.'
'Good. I'll need to find a church.'
'Oh?'
"I've been contaminated by evil. I need to pray for a
while. '
"It wasn't really your fault, Bevier. It could have
happened to any one of us.'
'But it was me, Sparhawk,' Bevier sighed. 'The witch
probably sought me out because she knew that I'd be
susceptible. '
'Nonsense, Bevier. You're the most devout man I've
ever met.'
'No,' Bevier disagreed sadly. "I know my own weaknesses.
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I am powerfully attracted to members of the fair
sex.'
"you're young, my friend. What you feel is only
natural. It subsides in time - or so I'm told.'
'Do you still feel those urges? I'd hoped that by the
time I reached your age, they would no longer trouble
me.'
"It doesn't work exactly that way, Bevier. I've known
some very old men whose heads could still be turned by a
pretty face. It's part of being human, I suppose. If God
didn't want us to feel that way, He wouldn't permit it.
Patriarch Dolmant explained it to me once when I was
having a problem with it. I'm not sure I entirely believed
him, but it made me feel a little less guilty.'
Bevier chuckled. 'You, Sparhawk? This is a side of you
I hadn't seen. I thought you were totally consumed with
your sense of duty.'
"Not entirely, Bevier. I still have a little time for other
thoughts as well. I'm sorry you didn't get the chance to
meet Lillias.'
'Lillias?'
'A Rendorish woman. I lived with her while I was in
exile.'
'Sparhawk.' Bevier gasped.
"It was part of a necessary disguise.'
'But surely you didn't -' Bevier left it hanging.
Sparhawk was sure that the young man was blushing
fUriously, but the darkness concealed it.
'Oh, yes,' he assured his friend. 'Lillias would have left
me otherwise. She's a woman of strong appetites. I
needed her to help conceal my real identity, so I more or
less had to try to keep her happy.'
"I'm shocked at you, Sparhawk, truly shocked.'
'The Pandions are a more pragmatic order than the
Cyrinics, Bevier. We do what has to be done in order to
get the job finished. Don't worry, my friend. Your soul
hasn't been damaged - at least not very much.
"I still need to spend some time in a church.'
'Why? God is everywhere, isn't he?'
'Of course.'
'Talk with Him here, then.'
"It wouldn't be quite the same.
'Whatever makes you feel right, I suppose.
They set out again at first light. The road now tended
downward, for they were coming down out of the low
range of forested hills. On occasion, when rounding a
curve or cresting a hill, they could see Lake Venne
sparkling in the spring sun off in the distance, and by midafternoon
they reached the fork in the road. The main road
was much better than had been the one leading down from
Ghasek, and they reached the north gate of Venne just
before the sunset filled the western sky with its fire.
Once again they rode through the narrow streets with
the overhanging houses casting a premature darkness,
and arrived back at the inn where they had previously
stayed. The innkeeper, a jovial fat Pelosian, welcomed
them and led them upstairs to the second floor where the
sleeping-rooms were located. 'Well, My Lords,' he said,
'how was your sojourn in those accursed woods?'
"quite successful, neighbour,' Sparhawk replied, 'and
I think you can begin to pass the word around that
Ghasek's no longer a place to be feared. We found out
what was causing the problem and took care of it.'
"Thanks be to God for the Knights of the Church!' the
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innkeeper cried enthusiastically. 'The stories that have
been going around have been very bad for business here
in Venne. People have been choosing other routes
because they didn't want to go into those woods.'
"Its all taken care of now,' Sparhawk assured him.
"was it some kind of monster?'
"in a manner of speaking,' Kalten replied.
"dihd you kill it?'
"we entombed it.' Kalten shrugged, starting to remove
his armour.
'Good for you, My Lord.'
'Oh, by the way,' Sparhawk said, 'we need to find a
place called Giant's Mound. Do you by any chance
happen to know where we should start looking?'
I think its on the east side of the lake,' the innkeeper
replied. 'There are some villages down there. They're
back a ways from the lake-shore because of all those
peat-bogs.' He laughed. The villages won't be hard to
find. The peasants down there burn peat in their stoves.
It puts out quite a bit of smoke, so about all you have to do
is follow your noses.'
"what are you planning to offer for supper tonight?'
Kalten asked eagerly.
"is that all you ever think about?' Sparhawk said.
"It's been a long trip, Sparhawk. 'i need some real food.
You gentlemen are good companions, but your cooking
leaves a bit to be desired.'
"I've had a haunch of beef turning on the spit since this
morning, My Lord,' the innkeeper said. "It should be well
done by now.'
Kalten smiled beatifically.
True to his word, Bevier spent the night in a nearby
church and rejoined them in the morning. Sparhawk chose
not to question him concerning the state of his soul.
They rode out of Venne and took the road south along
the lake. They made much better time than they had
when they had made the trip to the city. On that
occasion, Kalten, Bevier and Tynian had been recovering
from their encounter with the monstrous thing which
had emerged from the burial mound at the north end of
Lake Randera, but now they were wholly restored and
able to ride at a gallop. It was late afternoon when Kurik pulled up beside
Sparhawk. "I just caught a trace of peat-smoke in the air,'
he reported. 'There's a vilage of some kind around here.'
'Kalten,' Sparhawk called.
'Yes?'
'There's a vilage nearby. Kurik and I are going to go
have a look. Set up camp and build a good fire. It might
be after dark before the two of us get back and we'll need
something to guide us in.'
"I know what to do, Sparhawk.'
'All right. do it then.' Sparhawk and his squire turned
aside from the road and galloped across an open field
towards a low band of trees a mile or so to the east.
The smell of burning peat grew stronger - a strangely
homelike scent. Sparhawk leaned back in his saddle
feeling strangely at ease.
'Don't get too confident,' Kurik warned. 'The smoke
does strange things to their heads. Peat-burners are not
always very reliable. In some ways, they're worse than
Lamorks.'
'Where did you get all this information, Kurik?'
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There are ways, Sparhawk. The Church and the
nobility get their information in dispatches and reports.
The commons go to the heart of things.'
'I'll remember that. There's the village.'
"you'd better let me do most of the talking when we get
there,' Kurik advised. 'No matter how hard you try, you
don't sound much like a commoner.'
It was a low village. Shallow, wide houses built of grey
field-stone and roofed with thatch lined both sides of the
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