Читать книгу The Shining Ones - David Eddings - Страница 14

‘He looked well,’ Khalad said in a tight, controlled voice.

‘Aren’t you being just a little blasé about all this?’ Talen asked his brother.

‘Did you want me to go into hysterics?’

‘You saw him, then?’

‘Obviously.’

‘Where were you? I couldn’t see you around any place.’

‘Lord Vanion and I were right over there,’ Khalad replied, pointing toward the far side of the trail. ‘We were told to just keep quiet and watch. We saw you all come riding up the hill. Why did you jump off the cliff like that?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

Sparhawk was not really paying very much attention to the others. He stood holding the golden box in his hands. He could feel the Bhelliom inside and, as always, it was neither friendly nor hostile.

Flute was watching him closely. ‘Aren’t you going to open the box, Anakha?’

‘Why? I don’t need Bhelliom just now, do I?’

‘Don’t you want to see it again?’

‘I know what it looks like.’

‘Isn’t it calling to you?’

‘Yes, but I’m not listening. It always seems to complicate things when I let it out, so let’s not do that until I really need it.’ He turned the box over in his hands, closely examining it. Kurik’s work had been meticulous, though the box was unadorned. It was just that – a box. The fact that it was made of gold was largely irrelevant. ‘How do I open this? – when I need to, I mean? There isn’t any keyhole.’

‘Just touch the lid with one of the rings.’ She was watching him very closely.

‘Which one?’

‘Use your own. It knows you better than Ehlana’s does. Are you sure you don’t feel some sort of … ?’

‘Some sort of what?’

‘Aren’t your hands aching to touch it?’

‘It’s not unbearable.’

‘Now I see why all the others in my family are so afraid of you. You aren’t anything at all like other humans.’

‘Everybody’s different in some ways, I suppose. What do we do now?’

‘We can go back to the ship.’

‘Can you get in touch with the sailors?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why don’t you ask them to sail across the gulf and pick us up somewhere on this side? That way we won’t have to ride all the way back to Jorsan again, and we’ll be able to avoid any chance meetings with Rebal’s enthusiasts. Some of them might be sober enough by now to recognize the fact that we’re not Edomishmen.’

‘You’re in a strange humor, Sparhawk.’

‘I’m a little discontented with you at the moment, to be honest about it.’

‘What did I do?’

‘Why don’t we just drop it?’

‘Don’t you love me any more?’ Her lower lip began to tremble.

‘Of course I do, but that doesn’t alter the fact that I’m put out with you just now. People we love do irritate us from time to time, you know.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a contrite little voice.

‘I’ll get over it. Are we finished here? Can we mount up and start back?’

‘In just a moment,’ she said, seeming suddenly to remember something. Her eyes narrowed and began to glint dangerously. ‘You!’ she said, leveling a finger at Talen. ‘Come here!’

Talen sighed and did as he was told.

‘What did you think you were doing?’ she demanded.

‘Well – I was afraid you’d fall.’

‘I wasn’t the one who was going to fall, you clot! Don’t you ever do anything like that again!’

Talen could have agreed with her. That would have been the simplest way, and it would have avoided an extended scolding. He did not, however. ‘No, Flute. I’m afraid it’s not going to be that way. I’ll jump in every time I think you’re in danger.’ He grimaced. ‘It’s not really my idea. I want to be sure you understand that I haven’t completely lost my mind. It’s just that I can’t help myself. When I see you do something like that, I’m moving before I even think. If you’re really serious about trying to keep me alive, don’t do things like that when I’m around, because I’ll try to stop you every single time – regardless of how stupid it is.’

‘Why?’ she asked him intently.

‘I guess it’s because I love you.’ He shrugged.

She squealed with delight and swarmed up into his arms. ‘He’s such a nice boy!’ she exclaimed, covering his face with kisses.

They had gone no more than a mile when Kalten reined in sharply, filling the air with sulphurous curses.

‘Kalten!’ Vanion snapped. There are ladies present!’

‘Take a look behind us, my Lord,’ the blond Pandion said.

It was the cloud, inky black, ominous, and creeping along the ground like viscous slime.

Vanion swore and reached for his sword.

‘That won’t do any good, my Lord,’ Sparhawk told him. He reached inside his tunic and took out the gleaming box. ‘This might, though.’ He rapped the band of his ring against the box-lid.

Nothing happened.

‘You have to tell it to open, Sparhawk,’ Flute instructed.

‘Open!’ Sparhawk commanded, touching the ring to the box again.

The lid popped up, and Sparhawk saw the Bhelliom nestled inside. The Sapphire Rose was perfect, eternal, and it glowed a deep blue. It seemed strangely resentful as Sparhawk reached in and lifted it out, however. ‘We all know who we are,’ he told the stone and its unwilling inhabitants. ‘I’m not going to speak to you in Trollish because I know you can understand me, no matter what language I use. I want you to stop this nonsense with that cloud, and I want you to do it right now! When I turn round to look, your little patch of private darkness had better be gone. I don’t care how you do it, but get rid of that cloud!’

The Sapphire Rose grew suddenly hot in his hand, and it seemed almost to writhe against his fingers. Flickers of red, green, orange and purple, all interspersed with streaks of white, stained the azure petals of Bhelliom as the Troll-Gods trapped within the gem fought to resist. Bhelliom, however, appeared to exert some kind of over-control, and those ugly flickers were smothered as the jewel began to burn more brightly.

Then there was a sudden, violent jolt which numbed Sparhawk’s arm to the shoulder.

‘That’s the way!’ Kalten shouted with a sudden laugh.

Sparhawk turned in his saddle and saw that the cloud was gone. ‘What happened?’

‘It sort of flopped around like a fresh-caught eel,’ Kalten laughed again, ‘and then it flew all to pieces. What did you do, Sparhawk? I couldn’t hear what you said.’

‘I let our blue friend and its tenants know that the cloud was starting to irritate me. Then I sort of hinted at the fact that I get ugly when I’m irritated.’

‘They must have believed you.’

Flute was staring at Sparhawk in open astonishment. ‘You broke all the rules!’ she accused him.

‘I do that sometimes. It’s quicker to cut across the formalities once in a while.’

‘You’re not supposed to do it that way.’

‘It worked, didn’t it?’

‘It’s a question of style, Sparhawk. I’m technically in charge here, and I don’t know what Bhelliom and the Troll-Gods are going to think of me after that.’

He laughed, and then gently put Bhelliom back into its box. ‘Nice job,’ he told it. They were going to have to work together, after all, and a little encouragement now and then never hurt. Then he firmly closed the lid. ‘It’s time for some speculation, gentlemen,’ he said to the others. ‘What can we make of this?’

‘They know where we are, for one thing,’ Talen offered.

‘It could be the rings again,’ Sephrenia noted. That’s what happened last time. The cloud – and the shadow – were concentrating on Sparhawk and Ehlana right at first because they had the rings.’

‘Bhelliom’s closed up inside the box,’ Sparhawk said, ‘and so are the Troll-Gods.’

‘Are they still inside the jewel?’ Ulath asked him.

‘Oh, yes,’ Sparhawk said. ‘I could definitely feel them when I took Bhelliom out.’ He looked at Aphrael, phrasing his next question carefully. There were still some things that needed to be concealed. ‘I’ve heard that a God can be in more than one place at the same time.’ He left it a little tentative.

‘Yes,’ she replied.

‘Does that apply to the Troll-Gods as well?’

She struggled with it. ‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted. ‘It’s a fairly complicated business, and the Troll-Gods are quite limited.’

‘Does this box confine them in the same way that chain-mail pouch did back in Zemoch?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s different. When they’re encased in gold that way, they don’t know where they are.’

‘Does that make a difference?’

‘You have to know where you are before you can go someplace else.’

‘I’ll take your word for it.’ He made a face. ‘I think we may have blundered again,’ he said sourly.

‘How so?’ Bevier asked him.

‘We don’t really have any absolute proof that the Troll-Gods are in league with our enemy. If they’re trapped inside this box with Bhelliom and can’t get out, they couldn’t be, could they?’

‘That was Ghworg in the mountains of Atan,’ Ulath insisted. ‘That means that he’s out and about at least.’

‘Are you sure, Ulath? Those peasants around the bonfire were convinced that the big fellow in the ancient armor was Incetes too, you know.’

‘All the evidence points to it, Sparhawk. Everything we’ve seen this time is just like it was last time, and it was the Troll-Gods then, wasn’t it?’

‘I’m not even positive about that any more.’

‘Well, something had to have enough authority over the Trolls to make them migrate from Thalesia to the north coast of Atan.’

‘Just how smart do you have to be in order to be a Troll? I’m not saying that it was something as crude as the hoax Rebal foisted off on those peasants, but …’ Sparhawk left it hanging.

‘That would be a fairly complex hoax, dear one,’ Sephrenia murmured.

‘But not quite impossible, little mother. I’ll drop the whole line of thought if you’ll just tell me that what I’m suggesting is impossible.’

‘Don’t throw it away just yet,’ she said, her face troubled.

‘Aphrael,’ Sparhawk said, ‘will this gold box keep our friend out there from being able to locate Bhelliom?’

She nodded. ‘The gold shields it. He can’t hear it or feel it, so he can’t just move toward the sound or the sense of it.’

‘And if I put Ehlana’s ring in there as well? Would the box shield that too?’

‘Yes, but your own ring’s still out in the open where he can feel its location.’

‘One thing at a time.’ He touched his ring to the lid of the box. ‘Open,’ he said.

The latch clicked, and the lid raised slightly.

Sparhawk removed Ehlana’s ring from his finger and put it inside the box. ‘You look after it for a while,’ he told the Bhelliom.

‘Please don’t do that, Sparhawk,’ Vanion told him with a pained look.

‘Do what?’

‘Talk to it like that. You make it sound like a real being.’

‘Sorry, Vanion. It helps a little if I think of it that way. Bhelliom definitely has its own personality.’ He closed the lid and felt the latch click.

‘Ah – Flute?’ Khalad said a bit tentatively.

‘Yes?’

‘Is it the box that keeps Bhelliom hidden? Or is it the fact that the box is made out of gold?’

‘It’s the gold, Khalad. There’s something about gold that muffles Bhelliom and hides it.’

‘And it works on Queen Ehlana’s ring as well?’

She nodded. ‘I can’t hear or feel a thing.’ She stretched her open palm out toward the box Sparhawk was holding. ‘Nothing at all,’ she confirmed. ‘I can feel his ring, though.’

‘Put a golden glove on him,’ Kalten shrugged.

‘How much money did you bring along, Sir Kalten?’ Khalad asked. ‘Gold’s expensive, you know.’ He squinted at Sparhawk’s ring. ‘I don’t have to cover his whole hand,’ he said, ‘just the ring itself.’

‘I’ll have to be able to get at it in a hurry, Khalad,’ Sparhawk cautioned.

‘Let me work on it. Does anyone have a gold florin? That would be about the right size.’

They all opened their purses.

Kalten looked around hopefully, then sighed. He reached into his purse. ‘You owe me a gold florin, Sparhawk,’ he said, handing the coin to Khalad.

‘I’m in your debt, Kalten,’ Sparhawk smiled.

‘You certainly are – one gold florin’s worth. Shall we move on? It’s starting to get chilly out here.’

The wind had come up, gusty at first, but blowing steadily stronger. They followed the trail on down the slope until they were riding along the upper edge of a long, sandy beach with the wind screaming and tearing at them and the salt spray stinging their faces.

‘This is more than just a gale!’ Ulath shouted over the screaming wind. ‘I think we’ve got a hurricane brewing!’

‘Isn’t it too early for hurricanes?’ Kalten shouted.

‘It is in Eosia,’ Ulath shouted back.

The shrieking of the wind grew louder, and they rode with their cloaks pulled tightly about them.

‘We’d better get in out of this,’ Vanion yelled. ‘There’s a ruined farmstead just ahead.’ He squinted through the driving spray. ‘It’s got stone walls, so it should give us some kind of shelter from the wind.’

They pushed their horses into a gallop and reached the ruin in a few minutes. The moldering buildings were half buried in weeds, and the windows of the unroofed structures seemed to stare down from the walls like blind eyes. The house had completely tumbled in, so Sparhawk and the others dismounted in the yard and led their nervous horses into what had evidently been the barn. The floor was littered with the rotting remains of the roof, and there were bird-droppings in the corners.

‘How long does a hurricane usually last?’ Vanion asked.

‘A day or two,’ Ulath shrugged. Three at the most.’

‘I wouldn’t make any wagers on this one,’ Bevier said. ‘It came up just a little too quickly to suit me, and it’s forced us to take shelter. We’re pinned down in these ruins, you know.’

‘He’s right,’ Berit agreed. ‘Don’t we almost have to assume that somebody’s raised this storm to delay us?’

Kalten gave him a flat, unfriendly stare, a fair indication that he had not yet shaken off his suspicions about the young man and Queen Ehlana’s maid.

‘I don’t think it’s going to be much of a problem,’ Ulath said. ‘As soon as we get back on board that ship, we’ll be able to outrun the hurricane.’

Aphrael was shaking her head.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked her.

‘That ship wasn’t built to ride out a hurricane. As a matter of fact, I’ve already sent it back to where it came from.’

‘Without even telling us?’ Vanion objected.

‘My decision, Vanion. The ship’s no good to us in this kind of weather, so there was no point in putting the crew in danger.’

‘It seemed well made to me,’ Ulath objected. ‘The builders must have taken high winds into account when they designed her.’

She shook her head. ‘The wind doesn’t blow where that ship came from.’

‘There are winds everywhere, Flute,’ he pointed out. ‘There’s no place on this entire world where the wind doesn’t blow now and …’ He broke off and stared at her. ‘Where does that ship come from?’

‘That’s really none of your business, Sir Knight. I can bring it back after the storm passes.’

‘If it passes,’ Kalten added. ‘And I wouldn’t be at all surprised that when it does, this broken-down barn’s going to be surrounded by several thousand armed fanatics.’

They all looked at each other.

‘I think maybe we’d better move on, storm or no storm,’ Vanion said. He looked at Flute. ‘Can you still … ? I mean, will this wind interfere?’

‘It won’t make it any easier,’ she admitted glumly.

‘I don’t want you to hurt yourself,’ Sephrenia told her.

Flute waved her hand as if brushing it aside. ‘Don’t worry about me, Sephrenia.’

‘Don’t try to hide things from me, young lady.’ Sephrenia’s tone was stern. ‘I know exactly what all this wind’s going to do to you.’

‘And I know exactly what trying to carry it around will do to our mysterious friend out there. Trying to chase us with a hurricane on his back will exhaust him far more than carrying ten people on horseback will exhaust me – and I’m faster than he is. They don’t call me the nimble Goddess for nothing, you know. I can run even faster than Talen, if I have to. Where would you like to go, Lord Vanion?’

The Preceptor looked around at them. ‘Back to Jorsan?’

‘It’s probably as good as any place in a hurricane,’ Kalten said. ‘At least the beds are dry.’

‘And the beer is wet?’ Ulath smiled.

‘That did sort of enter into my thinking,’ Kalten admitted.

The wind shrieked around the corners of the building, but the inn was a sturdy stone structure, and the windows had stout shutters. Sparhawk chafed at the delay, but there was no help for it.

Sephrenia had put Flute to bed immediately upon their return to the inn, and she hovered over the little girl protectively. ‘She’s really concerned,’ Vanion reported. ‘I guess there are limits after all. Flute’s trying to make light of it, but I know exhaustion when I see it.’

‘She won’t die, will she?’ Talen asked in a shocked voice.

‘She can’t die, Talen,’ Vanion replied. ‘She can be destroyed, but she can’t die.’

‘What’s the difference?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Vanion admitted. ‘I am sure that she’s very, very tired. We shouldn’t have let her do that.’ He looked around the hallway outside the room where Sephrenia was tending the weary little Goddess. ‘Where’s Kalten?’ he asked.

‘He and Ulath are down in the tap-room, my Lord,’ Bevier replied.

‘I should have known, I guess. One of you might remind them that I won’t go easy on them if they’re unwell when we set out, though.’

They went on downstairs again and periodically checked the weather outside. If anything, the wind actually began to blow harder.

Sparhawk finally went back up and knocked lightly on the door to Sephrenia’s room. ‘Could I have a word with Flute?’ he asked when his tutor came to the door.

‘No. Absolutely not,’ she whispered. ‘I just got her to sleep.’ She came out into the hallway, closed the door, and set her back protectively against it.

‘I’m not going to hurt her, Sephrenia.’

‘You can make safe wagers on that all over Daresia,’ she told him with a steely glint in her eyes. ‘What did you want to ask her?’

‘Could I use Bhelliom to break up this storm?’

‘Probably.’

‘Why don’t I do that, then?’

‘Did you want to destroy Jorsan? – and kill everybody in town?’ He stared at her.

‘You have no real idea of the kind of forces involved in weather, have you, Sparhawk?’

‘Well, sort of,’ he said.

‘No, I don’t think you do, dear one. Whoever raised this hurricane is very powerful, and he knows exactly what he’s doing, but his hurricane is still a natural force. You could use Bhelliom to break it up, certainly, but if you do, you’ll release all that pent-up force at one time and in one place. You wouldn’t even be able to find pieces of Jorsan after the dust settled.’

‘Maybe I’d better drop the idea.’

‘I would. Now run along. I have to keep watch over Aphrael.’

Sparhawk went back down the hallway feeling a little like a small boy who had just been sent to his room.

Ulath was coming up the stairs. ‘Have you got a minute, Sparhawk?’ he asked.

‘Of course.’

‘I think you’d better keep a close eye on Kalten.’

‘Oh?’

‘He’s beginning to have some murderous thoughts about Berit.’

‘Is it getting out of hand?’

‘You knew about it, then? – about the feelings he has for your wife’s maid?’

Sparhawk nodded.

‘The more he drinks, the worse it’s going to get, you know – and there’s nothing else to do during this storm except drink. Is there any real substance to those suspicions of his?’

‘No. He just pulled them out of the air. The girl’s very, very fond of him, actually.’

‘I sort of thought that might be the case. Berit was already having enough trouble with the Emperor’s wife without going in search of more. Does Kalten do this very often? Fall desperately in love, I mean?’

‘So far as I know, it’s the first time. He’s always sort of taken affection where he could find it.’

‘That’s the safest way,’ Ulath agreed. ‘But since he’s waited so long, this is hitting him very hard. We’d better do what we can to keep him and Berit apart until we get back to Matherion and Alean has the chance to straighten it out.’

Khalad came down the hallway to join them. Sparhawk’s squire had a slightly disgusted look on his face. He held up Kalten’s florin. This isn’t going to work, Sparhawk,’ he said. ‘I could cover the stone with it easily enough, but it’d probably take you a half-hour to pry it open again so that you could use the ring. I’m going to have to come up with something else. You’d better give me the ring. I’m going to have to go talk with a goldsmith, and I’ll need precise measurements.’

Sparhawk felt a great reluctance to part with the ring. ‘Can’t you just … ?’

Khalad shook his head. ‘Whatever the goldsmith and I decide on will have to be fitted anyway. I guess it gets down to how much you trust me at this point, Sparhawk.’

Sparhawk sighed. ‘You had to put it on that basis, didn’t you, Khalad?’

‘I thought it would be the quickest way, my Lord.’ Khalad held out his hand, and Sparhawk removed the ring and gave it to him. ‘Thank you,’ Khalad smiled. ‘Your faith in me is very touching.’

‘Well said,’ Ulath murmured.

Later, after Sparhawk and Ulath had carried Kalten upstairs and put him to bed, they all gathered in the common-room for supper. Sparhawk spoke briefly with the innkeeper and had Sephrenia’s meal taken upstairs to her.

‘Where’s Talen?’ Bevier asked, looking around.

‘He said he was going out for a breath of fresh air,’ Berit replied.

‘In a hurricane?’

‘I think he’s just restless.’

‘Or he wants to go steal something,’ Ulath added.

The door to the inn banged open, and the wind blew Talen inside. He was wearing doublet and hose under his cloak, and a rapier at his side. The weapon did not seem to encumber him very much. He set his back against the door and strained to push it shut. He was soaked through, and his face was streaming water. He was grinning broadly, however. ‘I just solved a mystery,’ he laughed, coming across to where they sat.

‘Oh?’ Ulath asked.

‘What would it be worth to you gentlemen to know Rebal’s real identity?’

‘How did you manage that?’ Berit demanded.

‘Sheer luck, actually. I was outside looking around. The wind blew me down a narrow lane and pinned me up against the door of the shop at the end. I thought I’d step inside to get my breath, and the first thing I saw in there was a familiar face. Our mysterious Rebal’s a respected shopkeeper here in Jorsan. He told me so himself. He doesn’t look nearly as impressive when he’s wearing an apron.’

‘A shopkeeper?’ Bevier asked incredulously.

‘Yes indeed, Sir Knight – one of the pillars of the community, to hear him tell it. He’s even a member of the town council.’

‘Did you manage to get his name?’ Vanion asked.

‘Of course, my Lord. He introduced himself just as soon as the wind blew me through the door. His name’s Amador. I even bought something from him just to keep him talking.’

‘What does he deal in?’ Berit asked.

Talen reached inside his tunic and drew out a bright pink strip of cloth, wet and somewhat bedraggled. ‘Isn’t it pretty?’ he said. ‘I think I’ll dry it out and give it to Flute.’

‘You’re not serious,’ Vanion laughed. ‘Is that really what he sells?’

‘May muh tongue turn green iffn it ain’t, yer Preceptorship,’ the boy replied, imitating Caalador’s dialect. ‘The man here in Edom who has all the Tamuls trembling in their boots is a ribbon clerk. Can you imagine that?’ And he collapsed in a chair, laughing uproariously.

‘How does it work?’ Sparhawk asked the next day, turning the ring over and looking at the underside.

‘It’s the mounting of one of those rings people use when they want to poison other people’s food or drink,’ Khalad replied. ‘I had the goldsmith take it off the original ring and mount it on ours so that the cover fits over the ruby. There’s a little hinge on this side of the mounting and a latch on the other. All you have to do is touch the latch – right here.’ He pointed at a tiny lever half concealed under the massive-looking setting. The hinge has a little spring, so this gold cap pops open.’ He touched the lever, and the half-globe covering the ruby snapped up to reveal the stone. ‘Are you sure that the ring will work if you’re only touching Bhelliom with the band? With that cap in the way, touching the stone to anything might be a little tricky.’

‘The band does the job,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘This is very clever, Khalad.’

‘Thank you. I made the goldsmith wash out all the poison before we installed it on your ring.’

‘The old ring had been used?’

‘Oh, yes. One of the heirs of the Edomish noblewoman who’d previously owned it sold it to the goldsmith after she died. I guess she had a lot of enemies. She did at first, anyway.’ Khalad chuckled. The goldsmith was very disappointed with me. He really wanted to be alone with your ring for a while. That ruby’s worth quite a lot. I didn’t think Bhelliom would respond to a piece of red glass, though, so I kept a close eye on him. You’d probably better find out if the ring will still open the box anyway, just to be on the safe side. If it doesn’t, I’ll go back to the goldsmith’s shop and start cutting off his fingers. I’d imagine that after he loses two or three, he’ll remember where he hid the real ruby. It’s very hard to do finely detailed work when you don’t have all ten fingers. I told him I’d do that right at the outset, so we can probably trust his integrity.’

‘You’re a ruthless sort of fellow.’

‘I just wanted to avoid misunderstandings. After we make sure that the ring still opens the box, you’d better take it to Flute and find out if the gold’s thick enough to shield the ruby. If it isn’t, I’ll take it back to the goldsmith and have him pile more gold on that cap. We can keep doing that until it does what we want it to do.’

‘You’re very practical, Khalad.’

‘Somebody in this group has to be.’

‘What did you do with Kalten’s florin?’

‘I used it to pay the goldsmith. It covered part of the cost. You still owe me for the rest, though.’

‘I’m going to be in debt to everybody before we get home.’

‘That’s all right, Sparhawk,’ Khalad grinned. ‘We all know that you’re good for it.’

‘That does it!’ Sparhawk said angrily, after he had taken a quick look out the door of the common-room. It was two days later, and they had all just come downstairs for breakfast. ‘Let’s get ready to leave.’

‘I can’t bring the ship back in this storm, Sparhawk,’ Flute told him. The little girl still looked wan, but she was obviously recovering.

‘We’ll have to go overland, then. We’re sitting here like ducks in a row just waiting for our friend out there to gather his forces. We have to move.’

‘It’s going to take months to reach Matherion if we go overland, Sparhawk,’ Khalad objected. ‘Flute’s not well enough to speed up the trip.’

‘I’m not that sick, Khalad,’ Flute objected. ‘I’m just a little tired, that’s all.’

‘Do you have to do it all by yourself?’ Sparhawk asked her.

‘I didn’t quite follow that.’

‘If one of your cousins happened along, could he help you?’ She frowned.

‘Let’s say that you were making the decisions, and he was just lending you the muscle.’

‘It’s a nice idea, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia said, ‘but we don’t have one of Aphrael’s cousins along.’

‘No, but we’ve got Bhelliom.’

‘I knew it would happen,’ Bevier groaned. ‘The accursed stone’s unhinged Sparhawk’s mind. He thinks he’s a God.’

‘No, Bevier,’ Sparhawk smiled. ‘I’m not a God, but I have access to something very close to one. When I put those rings on, Bhelliom has to do what I tell it to do. That’s not exactly like being a God, but it’s close enough. Let’s have breakfast, and then the rest of you can gather our belongings and get them packed on the horses. Aphrael and I will hammer out the details of how we’re going to work this.’