Читать книгу The Complete Tamuli Trilogy: Domes of Fire, The Shining Ones, The Hidden City - David Eddings - Страница 35

‘They know nothing of magic.’ Zalasta said it quite emphatically.

‘That circlet didn’t rise up into the air all by itself, Zalasta,’ Vanion disagreed, ‘and the arrival of the falling star at just exactly the right moment stretches the possibility of coincidence further than I’m willing to go.’

‘Chicanery of some kind perhaps?’ Patriarch Emban suggested. ‘There was a charlatan in Ucera when I was a boy who was very good at that sort of thing. I’d be inclined to look for hidden wires and burning arrows.’ They were gathered in the Peloi camp outside the city the following morning, puzzling over the spectacular conclusion of Mirtai’s Rite of Passage.

‘Why would they do something like that, your Grace?’ Khalad asked him.

‘To make an impression maybe. How would I know?’

‘Who would they have been trying to impress?’

‘Us, obviously.’

‘It doesn’t seem to fit the Atan character,’ Tynian said, frowning. ‘Would the Atans cheapen a holy rite with that kind of gratuitous trickery, Ambassador Oscagne?’

The Tamul Emissary shook his head. Totally out of the question, Sir Tynian. The rite is as central to their culture as a wedding or a funeral. They’d never demean it just to impress strangers – and it wasn’t performed for our benefit. The ceremony was for Atana Mirtai.’

‘Exactly,’ Khalad agreed, ‘and if there were hidden wires coming down from those tree-branches she’d have known they were there. They just wouldn’t have done that to her. A cheap trick like that would have been an insult, and we all know how Atans respond to insults.’

‘Norkan will be here in a little while,’ Oscagne told them. ‘He’s been in Atan for quite some time. I’m sure he’ll be able to explain it.’

‘It cannot have been magic,’ Zalasta insisted. It seemed very important to him for some reason. Sparhawk had the uneasy feeling that it had to do with the shaggy-browed magician’s racial ego. So long as Styrics were the only people who could perform magic or instruct others in its use, they were unique in the world. If any other race could do the same thing, their importance would be diminished.

‘How long are we going to stay here?’ Kalten asked. This is a nervous kind of place. Some young knight or one of the Peloi is bound to make a mistake sooner or later. If somebody blunders into a deadly insult, I think all this good feeling will evaporate. We don’t want to have to fight our way out of town.’

‘Norkan will be able to tell us,’ Oscagne replied. ‘We don’t want to insult the Atans by leaving too early either.’

‘How far is it from here to Matherion, Oscagne?’ Emban asked.

‘About five hundred leagues.’

Emban sighed. ‘Almost two more months,’ he lamented. ‘I feel as if this journey’s lasted for years.’

‘You do look more fit, though, your Grace,’ Bevier told him.

‘I don’t want to look fit, Bevier. I want to look fat, lazy and pampered. I want to be fat, lazy and pampered – and I want a decent meal with lots of butter and gravy and delicacies and fine wines.’

‘You did volunteer to come along, your Grace,’ Sparhawk reminded him.

‘I must have been out of my mind.’

Ambassador Norkan came across the Peloi campground with an amused expression on his face.

‘What’s so funny?’ Oscagne asked him.

‘I’ve been observing an exquisite dance, old boy,’ Norkan replied. ‘I’d forgotten just how profoundly literal an Elene can be. Any number of Atan girls have approached young Sir Berit and expressed a burning interest in western weaponry. They were obviously hoping for private lessons in some secluded place where he could demonstrate how he uses his equipment.’

‘Norkan,’ Oscagne chided him.

‘Did I say something wrong, old chap? I’m afraid my Elenic’s a bit rusty. Anyway, Sir Berit’s arranged a demonstration for the entire group. He’s just outside the city wall giving the whole bunch of them archery lessons.’

‘We’re going to have to have a talk with that boy,’ Kalten said to Sparhawk.

‘I’ve been told not to,’ Sparhawk said. ‘My wife and the other ladies want to keep him innocent. It seems to satisfy some obscure need.’ He looked at Norkan. ‘Maybe you can settle an argument for us, your Excellency.’

‘I’m good at peace-making, Sir Sparhawk. It’s not as much fun as starting wars, but the emperor prefers it.’

‘What really happened last night, Ambassador Norkan?’ Vanion asked him.

‘Atana Mirtai became an adult,’ Norkan shrugged. ‘You were there, Lord Vanion. You saw everything I did.’

‘Yes, I did. Now I’d like to have it explained. Did a star really fall at the height of the ceremony? And did the gold circlet really rise from the altar and settle itself on Mirtai’s head?’

‘Yes. Was there a problem with that?’

‘Impossible!’ Zalasta exclaimed.

‘You could do it, couldn’t you, learned one?’

‘Yes, I suppose so, but I am Styric.’

‘And these are Atans?’

‘That’s exactly my point.’

‘We were also disturbed when we first encountered the phenomenon,’ Norkan told him. ‘The Atans are our cousins. So, unfortunately, are the Arjuni and the Tegans. We Tamuls are a secular people, as you undoubtedly know. We have a pantheon of Gods that we ignore except on holidays. The Atans only have one, and they won’t even tell us what His name is. They can appeal to Him in the same way you Styrics appeal to your Gods, and He responds in the same fashion.’

Zalasta’s face suddenly went white. ‘Impossible!’ he said again in a choked voice. ‘We’d have known. There are Atans at Sarsos. We’d have felt them using magic.’

‘But they don’t do it at Sarsos, Zalasta,’ Norkan said patiently. ‘They only use it here in Atan and only during their ceremonies.’

‘That’s absurd!’

‘I wouldn’t tell them you feel that way. They hold you Styrics in some contempt, you know. They find the notion of turning a God into a servant a bit impious. Atans have access to a God, and their God can do the same sort of things other Gods do. They choose not to involve their God in everyday matters, so they only call on Him during their religious ceremonies – weddings, funerals, Rites of Passage, and a few others. They can’t understand your willingness to insult your Gods by asking them to do things you really ought to do for yourselves.’ He looked at Emban then with a sly sort of grin. ‘It just occurred to me that your Elene God could probably do exactly the same thing. Have you ever thought of asking Him, your Grace?’

‘Heresy!’ Bevier gasped.

‘Not really, Sir Knight. That word’s used to describe somebody who strays from the teachings of his own faith. I’m not a member of the Elene faith, so my speculations can’t really be heretical, can they?’

‘He’s got you there, Bevier,’ Ulath said. ‘His logic’s unassailable.’

‘It raises some very interesting questions,’ Vanion mused. ‘It’s entirely possible that the Church blundered when she founded the Militant Orders. We may not have had to go outside our own faith for instruction in magic. If we’d asked Him the right way, our own God might have given us the help we needed.’ He coughed a bit uncomfortably. ‘I’ll trust you gentlemen not to tell Sephrenia I came up with that. If I start suggesting that she’s unnecessary, she might take it the wrong way.’

‘Lord Vanion,’ Emban said quite formally. ‘As the representative of the Church, I forbid you to continue this speculation. This is dangerous ground, and I want a ruling from Dolmant before we pursue the matter any further – and for God’s sake, don’t start experimenting.’

‘Ah – Patriarch Emban,’ Vanion reminded him rather mildly, ‘I think that you’re forgetting the fact that as the Preceptor of the Pandion Order, my rank in the Church is the same as yours. Technically speaking, you can’t forbid me to do anything.’

‘Sparhawk’s the Preceptor now.’

‘Not until he’s been confirmed by the Hierocracy, Emban. I’m not trying to demean your authority, old boy, but let’s observe the proprieties, shall we? It’s the little things that keep us civilised when we’re far from home.’

‘Aren’t Elenes fun?’ Oscagne said to Norkan.

‘I was just about to make the same observation myself.’

They met with King Androl and Queen Betuana later that morning. Ambassador Oscagne explained their mission in the flowing Tamul tongue.

‘He’s skirting around your rather unique capabilities, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia said quietly. A faint smile touched her lips. ‘The emperor’s officials seem a little unwilling to admit that they’re powerless and that they had to appeal for outside help.’

Sparhawk nodded. ‘We’ve been through it before,’ he murmured. ‘Oscagne was very concerned about that when he spoke to us in Chyrellos. It seems a little short-sighted in this situation, though. The Atans make up the Tamul army. It doesn’t really make much sense to keep secrets from them.’

‘Whatever made you think that politics made sense, Sparhawk?’

‘I’ve missed you, little mother,’ he laughed.

‘I certainly hope so.’

King Androl’s face was grave, even stern as Oscagne described what they had discovered in Astel. Queen Betuana’s expression was somewhat softer – largely because Danae was sitting in her lap. Sparhawk had seen his daughter do that many times. Whenever there was a potential for tension in a situation, Danae started looking for laps. People invariably responded to her unspoken appeals to be held without even thinking about it. ‘She does that on purpose, doesn’t she?’ he whispered to Sephrenia.

‘That went by a little fast, Sparhawk.’

‘Aphrael. She climbs into people’s laps in order to control them.’

‘Of course. Close contact makes it far more certain – and subtle.’

‘That’s the reason she’s always remained a child, isn’t it? So that people will pick her up and hold her and she can make them do what she wants?’

‘Well, it’s one of the reasons.’

‘She won’t be able to do that when she grows up, you know.’

‘Yes, I do know, Sparhawk, and I’m going to be very interested to see how she handles the situation. Oscagne’s coming to the point now. He’s asking Androl for a report on any incidents similar to the ones you’ve encountered.’

Norkan stepped forward to translate for Androl, and Oscagne retired to the Elene side of the room to perform the same service. The Tamuls had perfected the tedious but necessary business of translation to make it as smooth and unobtrusive as possible.

King Androl pondered the matter for a few moments. Then he smiled at Ehlana and spoke to her in Tamul. His voice was very soft.

‘Thus says the King,’ Norkan began his translation. ‘Gladly do we greet Ehlana-Queen once more, for her presence is like the sunshine come at last after a long winter.’

‘Oh, that’s very nice,’ Sephrenia murmured. ‘We always seem to forget the poetic side of the Atan nature.’

‘Moreover,’ Norkan continued his translation, ‘glad are we to welcome the fabled warriors of the west and the wise-man of Chyrellos-Church.’ Norkan was obviously translating verbatim.

Emban politely inclined his head.

‘Clearly we see our common concern in the matter at hand, and staunchly will we join with the West-warriors in such acts as are needful.’

Androl spoke again, pausing from time to time for translation. ‘Our minds have been unquiet in seasons past, for we have failed in tasks set for us by our Matherion-masters. This troubles us, for we are not accustomed to failure.’ His expression was slightly mortified as he made that admission. ‘I am sure, Ehlana-Queen, that Oscagne-Emperor-Speaker has told you of our difficulties in parts of Tamuli beyond our own borders. Shamed are we that he has spoken truly.’

Queen Betuana said something briefly to her husband.

‘She told him to get on with it,’ Sephrenia murmured to Sparhawk. ‘It appears that his tendency to be flowery irritates her – at least that was the impression I got.’

Androl said something to Norkan in an apologetic tone.

‘That’s a surprise,’ Norkan said, obviously speaking for himself now. ‘The King just admitted that he’s been keeping secrets from me. He doesn’t usually do that.’

Androl spoke again, and Norkan’s translation became more colloquial as the Atan king seemed to lay formality aside. ‘He says that there have been incidents here in Atan itself. It’s an internal matter, so he technically wasn’t obliged to tell me about it. He says they’ve encountered creatures he calls “the shaggy ones”. As I understand it, the creatures are even bigger than the tallest Atans.’

‘Long arms?’ Ulath asked intently. ‘Flat noses and big bones in the face? Pointed teeth?’

Norkan translated into Tamul, and King Androl looked at Ulath with some surprise. Then he nodded.

‘Trolls!’ Ulath said. ‘Ask him how many his people have seen at any one time.’

‘Fifty or more,’ came the reply.

Ulath shook his head. ‘That’s very unlikely,’ he said flatly. ‘You might find a single family of Trolls working together, but never fifty all at once.’

‘He wouldn’t lie,’ Norkan insisted.

‘I didn’t say he did, but Trolls have never behaved that way before. If they had, they’d have driven us out of Thalesia.’

‘It seems that the rules have changed, Ulath,’ Tynian noted. ‘Have there been any other incidents, your Excellency? Things that didn’t involve Trolls?’

Norkan spoke to the king and then translated the reply. ‘They’ve had encounters with warriors in strange armour and with strange equipment.’

‘Ask him if they might have been Cyrgai,’ Bevier suggested. ‘Horse-hair-crested helmets? Big round shields? Long spears?’

Norkan posed the question, though his expression was baffled. It was with some amazement that he translated the reply. ‘They were!’ he exclaimed. ‘They were Cyrgai! How’s that possible?’

‘We’ll explain later,’ Sparhawk said tersely. ‘Were there any others?’

Norkan asked the questions quickly now, obviously excited by these revelations. Queen Betuana leaned forward slightly and took over for her husband.

‘Arjuni,’ Norkan said tersely. ‘They were heavily armed and made no attempt to hide the way they usually do. And once there was an army of Elenes – mostly serfs.’ Then his eyes went wide with astonishment. ‘That’s totally impossible! That’s only a myth!’

‘My colleague’s losing his grip,’ Oscagne told them. ‘The queen says that once they encountered the Shining Ones.’

‘Who are they?’ Stragen asked.

‘Norkan’s right,’ Oscagne replied. ‘The Shining Ones are mythical creatures. It’s another of those things I told you about back in Chyrellos. Our enemy’s been sifting through folk-lore for horrors. The Shining Ones are like vampires, werewolves and Ogres. Would your Majesty object if Norkan and I pursued this and then gave you a summary?’ he asked Ehlana.

‘Go right ahead, your Excellency,’ she agreed.

The two Tamuls began to speak more rapidly now, and Queen Betuana replied firmly. Sparhawk got the distinct impression that she was far more intelligent and forceful than her husband. Still holding Princess Danae in her lap, she answered the questions incisively, and her eyes were very intent.

‘Our enemy seems to be doing the same things here in Atan that he’s been doing elsewhere,’ Oscagne told them finally, ‘and he’s been adding a few twists besides. The forces from antiquity behave the same as your antique Lamorks did back in Eosia and the way those Cyrgai and their Cynesgan allies did in the forest west of Sarsos. They attack; there’s a fight, and then they vanish when their leader gets killed. Only their dead remain. The Trolls don’t vanish. They all have to be killed.’

‘What about these “Shining Ones”?’ Kalten asked.

‘There’s no way to be sure about those,’ Oscagne replied. ‘The Atans flee from them.’

‘They what?’ Stragen’s voice was startled.

‘Everybody’s afraid of the Shining Ones, Milord,’ Oscagne told him. ‘The stories about them make tales of vampires and werewolves and Ogres sound like bed-time stories.’

‘Could you accept a slight amendment, your Excellency?’ Ulath asked mildly. ‘I don’t want to alarm you, but Ogres are real. We see them all the time in Thalesia.’

‘You’re joking, Sir Ulath.’

‘No, not really.’ Ulath took off his horned helmet. ‘These are Ogre-horns,’ he said tapping the curved appurtenances on his headgear.

‘Maybe what you have in Thalesia’s just a creature you call an Ogre,’ Oscagne said dubiously.

‘Twelve feet tall? Horns? Fangs? Claws for fingers? That’s an Ogre, isn’t it?’

‘Well –’

‘That’s what we’ve got in Thalesia. If they aren’t Ogres, we’ll settle for them until you can find us some real ones.’

Oscagne stared at him.

‘They aren’t all that bad, your Excellency. The Trolls give us more trouble – probably because they’re meat eaters. Ogres eat anything. Actually, they prefer trees for dinner over people. They’re particularly fond of maple trees for some reason – probably because they’re sweet. A hungry Ogre will kick his way right through your house to get at a maple tree you’ve got growing in your backyard.’

‘Is he actually serious?’ Oscagne appealed to the others. Ulath sometimes had that effect on people.

Tynian reached over and rapped the Ogre-horns on Ulath’s helmet with his knuckles. ‘These feel fairly serious to me, your Excellency,’ he said. ‘And that raises some other questions. If Ogres are real, we might want to re-think our positions on vampires, werewolves and these Shining Ones as well. Under the circumstances, we might consider discarding the word “impossible” for the time being.’

‘But you are, Mirtai,’ Princess Danae insisted.

‘It’s a different kind of thing, Danae,’ the Atana told her. ‘It’s symbolic in my case.’

‘Everything’s symbolic, Mirtai,’ Danae told her. ‘Everything we do means something else. There are symbols all around us. No matter how you want to look at it, though, we have the same mother, and that makes us sisters.’ It seemed very important to her for some reason. Sparhawk was sitting with Sephrenia in the corner of a large room of King Androl’s house. His daughter was busy asserting her kinship with Mirtai as Baroness Melidere and Ehlana’s maid looked on.

Mirtai smiled gently. ‘All right, Danae,’ she gave in, ‘if you want to think so, we’re sisters.’

Danae gave a little squeal of delight, jumped into Mirtai’s arms and smothered her with kisses.

‘Isn’t she a little darling?’ Baroness Melidere laughed.

‘Yes, Baroness,’ Alean murmured. Then a small frown creased the girl’s brow. ‘I’ll never understand that,’ she said. ‘No matter how closely I watch her, she always manages to get her feet dirty.’ She pointed at Danae’s grass-stained feet. ‘Sometimes I almost think she’s got a boxful of grass hidden among her toys, and she shuffles her feet in it when my back’s turned just to torment me.’

Melidere smiled. ‘She just likes to run barefoot, Alean,’ she said. ‘Don’t you ever want to take off your shoes and run through the grass?’

Alean sighed. ‘I’m in service, Baroness,’ she replied. ‘I’m not supposed to give in to that sort of whim.’

‘You’re so very proper, Alean,’ the honey-eyed Baroness said. ‘If a girl doesn’t give in to her whims now and then, she’ll never have any fun.’

‘I’m not here to have fun, Baroness. I’m here to serve. My first employer made that very clear to me.’ She crossed the room to the two ‘sisters’ and touched Danae’s shoulder. ‘Time for your bath, Princess,’ she said.

‘Do I have to?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s such a bother. I’ll just get dirty again, you know.’

‘We’re supposed to make an effort to stay ahead of it, your Highness.’

‘Do as she tells you, Danae,’ Mirtai said.

‘Yes, sister dear,’ Danae sighed.

‘That was an interesting exchange, wasn’t it?’ Sparhawk murmured to Sephrenia.

‘Yes,’ the small woman agreed. ‘Has she been letting things slip that way very often?’

‘I didn’t quite follow that.’

‘She’s not really supposed to talk about symbols the way she just did when she’s around pagans.’

‘I wish you wouldn’t use that word to describe us, Sephrenia.’

‘Well, aren’t you?’

‘It sort of depends on your perspective. What’s so important about symbols that she’s supposed to hide them?’

‘It’s not the symbols themselves, Sparhawk. It’s what talking about them that way reveals.’

‘Oh? What’s that?’

‘The fact that she doesn’t look at the world or think about it in the same way we do. There are meanings in the world for her that we can’t even begin to comprehend.’

‘I’ll take your word for it. Are you and Mirtai sisters now, too? I mean, if she’s Danae’s sister and you are too, wouldn’t you almost have to be?’

‘All women are sisters, Sparhawk.’

‘That’s a generalisation, Sephrenia.’

‘How perceptive of you to have noticed.’

Vanion entered the room. ‘Where’s Ehlana?’ he asked.

‘She and Betuana are conferring,’ Sparhawk replied.

‘Who’s translating for them?’

‘One of Engessa’s girls from Darsas. What did you want to talk with her about?’

‘I think we’ll be leaving tomorrow. Engessa, Oscagne and I talked with King Androl. Oscagne feels that we should press on to Matherion. He doesn’t want to keep the emperor waiting. Engessa’s sending his legions back to Darsas, he’ll be going on with us, largely because he speaks Elenic better than most Atans.’

‘That doesn’t disappoint me,’ Mirtai said. ‘He’s my father now, and we really ought to get to know each other better.’

‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Vanion?’ Sephrenia said it half-accusingly.

‘I’ve missed it,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve been at the centre of things for most of my life. I don’t think I was meant to sit on the back shelf.’

‘Weren’t you happy when there were just the two of us?’

‘Of course I was. I’d have been perfectly content to spend the rest of my life alone with you, but we’re not alone any more. The world’s intruding upon us, Sephrenia, and we both have responsibilities. We still have time for each other, though.’

‘Are you sure, Vanion?’

‘I’ll make sure, love.’

‘Would you two like to be alone?’ Mirtai asked them with an arch little smile.

‘Later perhaps,’ Sephrenia replied quite calmly.

‘Won’t we be a little under-manned without Engessa’s Atans?’ Sparhawk asked.

‘King Androl’s making arrangements,’ Vanion said. ‘Don’t worry, Sparhawk. Your wife’s almost as important to the rest of us as she is to you. We’re not going to let anything happen to her.’

‘We can discount the possibility of exaggeration,’ Sephrenia said. ‘The Atan character makes that very unlikely.’

‘I’ll agree there,’ Sparhawk concurred. ‘They’re warriors, and they’re trained to give precise reports.’

Vanion and Zalasta nodded. It was evening, and the four of them were walking together outside the city in order to discuss the situation apart from Norkan and Oscagne. It was not that they distrusted the two Tamuls. It was just that they wanted to be able to speak freely about certain things which Tamuls were culturally unprepared to accept.

‘Our opponent is quite obviously a God,’ Zalasta said firmly.

‘He says it so casually,’ Vanion noted. ‘Are you so accustomed to confronting Gods that you’re becoming blasé about it, Zalasta?’

Zalasta smiled. ‘Just defining the problem, Lord Vanion. The resurrection of whole armies is beyond purely human capabilities. You can take my word for that. I tried it once and made a horrible mess of it. It took me weeks to get them all back into the ground again.’

‘We’ve faced Gods before,’ Vanion shrugged. ‘We stared across a border at Azash for five hundred years.’

‘Now who’s blasé?’ Sephrenia said.

‘Just defining the solution, love,’ he replied. ‘The Church Knights were founded for just such situations. We really need to identify our enemy, though. Gods have worshippers, and our enemy’s inevitably utilising his worshippers in this plan. We have to find out who he is so that we know who his adherents are. We can’t disrupt his plans until we know whom to attack. Am I being obvious?’

‘Yes,’ Sparhawk told him, ‘but logic always is right at first. I like the notion of attacking his worshippers. If we do that, he’s going to have to stop what he’s doing and concentrate on protecting his own people. The strength of a God depends entirely on his worshippers. If we start killing his people, we’ll diminish him with every sword-stroke.’

‘Barbarian,’ Sephrenia accused.

‘Can you make her stop doing that to me, Vanion?’ Sparhawk appealed. ‘She’s called me both a pagan and a barbarian so far today.’

‘Well, aren’t you?’ she said.

‘Maybe, but it’s not nice to come right out and say it like that.’

‘It’s the presence of the Trolls that has concerned me since you told me about it at Sarsos,’ Zalasta told them. ‘They are not drawn from the past, and they have but recently come to this part of the world from their ancestral home in Thalesia. I know little of Trolls, but it was my understanding that they are fiercely attached to their homeland. What could have provoked this migration?’

‘Ulath’s baffled,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘I gather that the Thalesians are so happy that the Trolls have left that they didn’t pursue the matter.’

‘Trolls don’t habitually co-operate with each other,’ Sephrenia told them. ‘One of them might have decided on his own to leave Thalesia, but he’d never have persuaded the rest to go with him.’

‘You’re raising a very unpleasant possibility, love,’ Vanion said.

They all looked at each other.

‘Is there any way they could have got out of Bhelliom?’ Vanion asked Sephrenia.

‘I don’t know, Vanion. Sparhawk asked me the same question quite some time ago. I don’t know what spell Ghwerig used to seal them inside the jewel. Troll-spells aren’t the same as ours.’

‘Then we don’t know if they’re still inside or if they’ve somehow managed to free themselves?’

She nodded glumly.

‘The fact that the Trolls banded up and left their ancestral home all at the same time suggests that something with sufficient authority over them commanded them to leave,’ Zalasta mused.

‘That would be their Gods, all right.’ Vanion’s face was as glum as Sephrenia’s. ‘Trolls wouldn’t obey anyone else.’ He sighed. ‘Well, we wanted to know who was opposing us. I think we may have just found out.’

‘You’re all full of light and joy today, Vanion,’ Sparhawk said sourly, ‘but I’d like something a little more concrete before I declare war on the Trolls.’

‘How did you force the Troll-Gods to stop attacking you in Zemoch, Prince Sparhawk?’ Zalasta asked him.

‘I used the Bhelliom.’

‘It rather looks as if you’ll have to use it again. I don’t suppose you happened to bring it with you, did you?’

Sparhawk looked quickly at Sephrenia. ‘You didn’t tell him?’ he asked with a certain surprise.

‘It wasn’t necessary for him to know, dear one. Dolmant wanted us all to keep it more or less to ourselves, remember?’

‘I gather that it’s not with you then, Prince Sparhawk,’ Zalasta surmised. ‘Did you leave it in some safe place in Cimmura?’

‘It’s in a safe place all right, learned one,’ Sparhawk replied bleakly, ‘but it’s not in Cimmura.’

‘Where is it then?’

‘After we used it to destroy Azash, we threw it into the sea.’

Zalasta’s face went chalk white.

‘In the deepest part of the deepest ocean in the world,’ Sephrenia added.