order so that I can serve God more personally.'
'We're going to have to find some nice accommodating
girl for that boy, Sparhawk,' Ulath muttered. 'Let's get
him involved in some serious sin so that he gives up that
notion. He's too good a man to waste by putting him in a
cassock.'
'How about Naween?' Talen, who stood beside them,
suggested.
'Who's Naween?' Ulath asked.
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'The best whore in Cimmura.' Talen shrugged. "She's
enthusiastic about her work. Sparhawk's met her.'
'Really?' Ulath said, looking at Sparhawk with one
raised eyebrow.
"It was on business,' Sparhawk said shortly.
'Of course - but yours or hers?'
'Do you suppose we could drop this?' Sparhawk
cleared his throat and then looked around to make sure
that none of King WarGun's soldiers was within earshot.
'We've got to get clear of this lot before Ghwerig gets too
far ahead of us,' he said.
'Tonight,' Tynian suggested. 'Rumour has it that King
Wargun drinks himself to sleep every night. We should
be able to slip away without too much problem.'
'We surely cannot disobey the direct command of the
Patriarch of Emsat,' Bevier said in a shocked tone.
,'Of course not, Bevier,' Kalten said easily. 'We'll just
slip out and find some country vicar or the abbot of a
monastery and get him to order us to go back to what we
were doing.'
'That's immoral!' Bevier gasped.
"I know,' Kalten smirked. 'Disgusting, isn't it?'
'But it is technically legitimate, Bevier,' Tynian assured
the young Cyrinic. 'A bit devious, I'll admit, but still
legitimate. We're oath-bound to follow the orders of
consecrated members of the clergy. The order of a vicar
or an abbot would supersede the order of Patriarch
Bergsten, wouldn't it?' Tynian's eyes were wide and
innocent.
Bevier looked at him helplessly, and then he began to
laugh. "I think he's going to be all right, Sparhawk,' Ulath
said, 'but let's keep your friend Naween in reserve - just
in case.'
'Who's Naween?' Bevier asked, puzzled.
'An acquaintance of mine,' Sparhawk replied
distantly. "Someday I may introduce you.'
"I'd be honoured,' Bevier said sincerely.
Talen went off some distance and collapsed in helpless
laughter.
They caught up with the mob of disconsolate-looking
Pelosian conscripts late that afternoon. As Sparhawk had
feared, the perimeter of their encampment was being
patrolled by WarGun's heavily armed thugs.
The soldiers set up a pavilion for them just before
sunset, and they went inside. Sparhawk removed his
armour and put on a mail-shirt instead. 'The rest of you
wait here,' he said. "I want to take a look around before it
gets dark.' He put on his sword-belt and stepped out of
the tent.
There were two evil-looking Thalesians outside.
'Where do you think you're ' going?' one of them
demanded.
Sparhawk gave him a flat, unfriendly stare and waited.
My Lord,' the fellow grudgingly added.
"I want to check on my horse,' Sparhawk said.
'We have farriers to do that, Sir Knight.'
'We're not going to have an argument about this, are
we, neighbour?'
'Ah - no, I don't think so, Sir Knight.'
'Good. Where are the horses picketed?'
"I'll show you, Sir Sparhawk.'
'There's no need of that. Just tell me.'
"I have to accompany you anyway, Sir Knight. The
King's orders.'
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"I see. Lead on then.'
As they started out, Sparhawk heard a sudden
boisterous voice. 'Ho there, Sir Knight!' He looked
around.
"I see they got you and your friends too.' It was Kring
the Domi of the marauding band of Peloi.
'Hello, my friend,' Sparhawk greeted the shaven-headed
tribesman. 'Did you catch up with those
Zemochs?'
Kring laughed. "I've got a whole sack-ful of ears,' he
said. 'They tried to make a stand. Stupid people, the
Zemochs. But then King Soros took up with this rag-tag
army, and we had to follow along in order to collect the
bounty.' He rubbed at his shaved head. 'That's all right,
though. We didn't have anything Pressing to do back
home anyway, now that the mares have all foaled. Tell
me, do you still have that young thief with you?'
'Last time I looked, he was still around. Of course he
might have stolen a few things and then bolted. He bolts
very well when the occasion demands it.'
'I'll wager he does, Sir Knight, I'll wager he does.
How's my friend Tynian? I saw you all when you rode in,
and I was just on my way to visit him.'
'He's well.'
'Good.' The Domi looked seriously at Sparhawk then.
'Perhaps you can give me some information about
military etiquette, Sir Knight. I've never been a part of a
formal army before. What are the general rules about
pillage?'
"I don't think anybody would get too concerned,'
Sparhawk replied, 'as long as you limit your plundering
to the enemy dead. It's considered bad form to loot
the bodies of our own soldiers.'
'Stupid rule, that one,' Kring sighed. 'What does a
dead man care about possessions? How about rape?'
"It's frowned on. We'll be in Arcium, and that's a
friendly country. Arcians are sensitive about their
women-folk. WarGun's gathered up a fair number of
camp-followers if those urges are bothering you.'
'Camp-followers always act so bored. Give me a nice
young virgin every time. You know, this campaign is
turning out to be less and less enjoyable. How about
arson? I love a good fire.'
"I'd definitely advise against it. As I said, we'll be in
Arcium, and all the towns and houses belong to the
people who live there. I'm sure they'd object.'
'Civilized warfare leaves a lot to be desired, doesn't it,
SIr Knight?'
'What can I say, Domi?' Sparhawk apologized, spreading
his hands helplessly.
'if you don't mind my saying so, it's the armour, I
think. You people are so encased in steel that you lose
sight of the main things - booty, women, horses. It's a
failing, Sir Knight.'
"It is a failing, Domi,' Sparhawk conceded. 'Centuries
of tradition, you understand.'
'There's nothing wrong with tradition - as long as
it doesn't get in the way of important things.'
"I'll bear that in mind, Domi. Our tent's right over
there. Tynian will be glad to see you.' Sparhawk followed
the Thalesian sentry on through the camp to where the
horses were picketed. He made some pretence of checking
Faran's hooves, looking intently out into the twilight
at the perimeter of the camp. As he had noted earlier,
/>
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there were dozens of men riding around the outside.
'Why so many patrols?' he asked the Thalesian.
'The Pelosian conscripts are unenthusiastic about this
campaign, Sir Knight,' the warrior replied. 'We didn't go
to all the trouble of gathering them up only to have them
sneak off in the middle of the night.'
"I see,' Sparhawk said. 'We can go back now.'
'Yes, My Lord.'
WarGun's patrols seriously complicated things, not to
mention the presence of the two sentries outside their
tent. Ghwerig was getting farther and farther away with
Bhelliom, and it seemed that there was very little
Sparhawk could do about it. He knew that by himself,
using a mixture of stelth and main force, he could
escape from the camp, but what would that accomplish?
Without Flute, he'd have little chance of tracking down
the fleeing Troll, and to take her along without the others
to help guard her would be to place her in unacceptable
danger. They were going to have to come up with some
other idea.
The Thalesian warrior was leading him past the tent of
some Pelosian conscripts when he saw a familiar face.
'Occuda?' he said incredulously. 'is that you?'
The lantern-jawed man in bull-hide armour rose to his
feet, his bleak face showing no particular pleasure at the
meeting. "I'm afraid it is, My Lord,' he said.
'What happened? What forced you to leave Count
Ghasek?'
Occuda looked briefly at the men who shared the tent
with him. 'Might we discuss this privately, Sir
Sparhawk?'
'Certainly, Occuda.'
'Over there, My Lord.'
"I'll be in plain sight,
Together Sparhawk and Occuda walked away from the
tent and stopped near a grove of sapling fir trees that
stood so closely together that they precluded the possibility
of anyone's pitching a tent among them.
'The count has fallen ill, My Lord,' Occuda said
sombrely.
'And you left him alone with that madwoman? I'm
disappointed in you, Occuda.
'The circumstances have changed somewhat, My
Lord.'
'Oh?'
'The Lady Bellina is dead now.'
'What happened to her?'
"I killed her.' Occuda said it in a numb voice. "I could no
longer bear her endless screaming. At first the herbs the
Lady Sephrenia advised quieted Bellina somewhat, but
after a short while, she seemed to shake off their effects. I
tried to increase the dosage, but to no avail. Then one
night as I was pushing her supper through that slot in the
tower wall, I saw her. She was raving and frothing at the
mouth like a rabid dog. She was obviously in agony.
That's when I made the decision to put her to rest.'
'We all knew it might come to that,' Sparhawk said
gravely.
'Perhaps. I could not bring myself to simply slaughter
her, however. The herbs no longer quieted her. The
nightshade, however, did. She stopped screaming
shortly after I gave it to her. ' There were tears in Occuda's
eyes. "I took my sledge and broke a hole in the tower wall.
Then I did as you instructed with my axe. I've never done
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anything so difficult in my life. I wrapped her body in
canvas and took her outside the castle. There I burned
her. After what I had done, I could not face the count. I
left him a note confessing my crime and then went to a
woodcutter's village not far from the castle. I hired
servants there to care for the count. Even after I told them
there was no longer any danger at the castle, I had to pay
them double wages to get them to agree. Then I came
away from that place and joined this army. I hope the
fighting starts soon. Everything in my life is over. All I
want now is to die.'
'You did what you had to do, Occuda.'
'Perhaps, but that does not absolve me of my guilt.'
Sparhawk made a decision at that point. 'Come with
me,' he said.
'Where are we going, My Lord?'
'To see the Patriarch of Emsat.'
"I could not enter the presence of a high churchman
with Lady Bellina's blood on my hands.'
'Patriarch Bergsten is a Thalesian. I doubt that he's
very squeamish. We need to see the Patriarch of Emsat,
he told his Thalesian escort. 'Take us to his tent.'
'Yes, My Lord.'
The sentry led them through the camp to the pavilion
of Patriarch Bergsten. Bergsten's brutish face looked
particularly Thalesian by candle-light. He had heavy
bone ridges across his brows, and his cheek-bones and
jaw were prominent. He was still wearing his mail-shirt
although he had removed his Ogre-horned helmet and
stood his axe in the corner.
'Your Grace,' Sparhawk said with a bow, 'my friend
here has a problem of a spiritual nature. I wonder if you
could help him?'
'That is my calling, Sir Sparhawk,' the Patriarch
replied.
'Thank you, Your Grace. Occuda here was at one time
a monk. Then he entered the service of a count in
northern Pelosia. The count's sister became involved
with an evil cult, and she began to practise rites involving
human sacrifice, which gave her certain powers.'
Bergsten's eyes widened.
'At any rate,' Sparhawk continued, 'when the count's
sister was finally stripped of those powers, she went
mad, and her brother was forced to confine her. Occuda
took care of her until he could no longer bear her agonies.
Then, out of compassion, he poisoned her.'
'That's a dreadful story, Sir Sparhawk,' Bergsten said
in his deep voice.
"It was a dreadful series of events,' Sparhawk agreed.
'Occuda feels overcome with guiltt now, and he's' convinced
that his soul is lost. Can you absolve him so that
he can face the rest of his life?'
The armoured Patriarch Bergsten looked thoughtfully
at Ocuda's suffering face, his eyes at once shrewd and
compassionate. He seemed to consider the matter for
several moments, then he straightened, and his expression
grew hard. 'No, Sir Sparhawk, I can't,' he said flatly.
Sparhawk was' about to protest, but the Patriarch
raised one thick hand. He looked at the hulking Pelosian.
'Occuda,' he said sternly, 'you were once a monk?'
"I was, Your Grace.'
'Good. This shall be your penance then. You will
resume your monk's habit, Brother Occuda, and you will
enter my service. When I have decided that you have
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paid for your sin, I wil grant you absolution.'
'Y-your Grace,' Occuda sobbed, falling to his knees,
'how can I ever thank you?'
Bergsten smiled bleakly."You may change your mind
in time, Brother Occuda. You will find that I'm a very
<
br /> hard master. You'll pay for your sin many times over
before your soul is washed clean. Now, go gather your
possessions. You'll be moving in here with me.'
'Yes, Your Grace.' Occuda rose and left the tent.
'if you don't mind my saying so, Your Grace,
Sparhawk said, 'you are a very devious man.'
'No, not really, Sir Sparhawk.' The huge churchman
smiled. "It's just that I've had enough experience to know
that the human spirit is a very complex thing. Your friend
feels that he must suffer in order to expiate his sin, and if I
were simply to absolve him, he would always doubt that
he had been thoroughly cleansed. He feels that he has to
suffer, so I'll make sure that he suffers - in moderation, of
course. I'm not a monster, after all.'
'Was what he did really a sin?'
'Of course not. He acted out of mercy. He'll make a
very good monk, and after I think he's suffered long
enough I'll find a nice quiet monastery somewhere and
make him the abbot. He'll be too busy to brood about
things, and the Church wil get a good, faithful abbot.
This is not to mention all those years when I'll have his
services at no cost.'
'You're not really a very nice man, Your Grace.'
"I have never pretended to be, my son. That will be all,
Sir Sparhawk. Go with my blessing.' The Patriarch
winked slyly.
'Thank you, Your Grace,' Sparhawk said without
cracking a smile.
He felt somehow very pleased with himself as he and
the sentry walked back across the camp. He might not
always be able to solve his own problems, but he
certainly seemed able to solve those of others.
'Kring was telling us that the outside of the camp is
being patrolled,' Tynian said when Sparhawk re-entered
the tent. 'That's going to make it more difficult to get
away, isn't it?'
'Much more,' Sparhawk agreed.
'Oh,' Tynian added. 'Flute's been asking some questions
about distances. Kurik looked in the packs, but he
couldn't find your map.'
"It's in my saddle-bag.'
"I should have thought of that, I suppose,' Kurik said.
'What is it you want to know?' Sparhawk asked the
little girl, opening his saddle-bag for the map.
'How far is it from this Agnak place to Acie?'
Sparhawk spread his map out on the table in the centre
of the pavilion.
"It's a very pretty Picture, but it doesn't answer my
question,' she said.
Sparhawk measured it off. "It's about three hundred
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