heal.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Berit replied. ‘Now that you mention it, though, it is getting a little sore.’
She smiled and put an affectionate hand on his shoulder. ‘This one may be all right, Sparhawk. His head isn’t quite solid bone – like some I could name.’ She glanced meaningfully at Kalten.
‘Sephrenia,’ the blond knight protested.
‘Get out of the mail-shirt,’ she told him crisply. ‘I want to see if you’ve broken anything.’
‘You said the Styrics in that group weren’t western Styrics,’ Bevier said to her.
‘No. They were Zemochs. It’s more or less what we guessed at back at that inn. The Seeker will use anybody, but a western Styric is incapable of using weapons made of steel. If they’d been local people, their swords would have been bronze or copper.’ She looked critically at Kalten, who had just removed his mail-shirt. She shuddered. ‘You look like a blond rug,’ she told him.
‘It’s not my fault, little mother,’ he said, suddenly blushing. ‘All the men in my family have been hairy.’
Bevier looked puzzled. ‘What finally drove that creature off?’ he asked.
‘Flute,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘She’s done it before. She even ran off the Damork once with her pipes.’
‘This tiny child?’ Bevier’s tone was incredulous.
‘There’s more to Flute than meets the eye,’ Sparhawk told him. He looked out across the slope of the hill. ‘Talen,’ he shouted, ‘stop that.’
Talen, who had been busily pillaging the dead, looked up with some consternation. ‘But Sparhawk –’ he began.
‘Just come away from there. That’s disgusting.’
‘But – ’
‘Do as he says!’ Berit roared.
Talen sighed and came back down the hill.
‘Let’s round up the horses, Bevier,’ Sparhawk said. ‘As soon as Kurik and the others get back, I think we’ll want to move on. That Seeker is still out there, and it can come at us with a whole new group of people at any time.’
‘It can do that at night as well as in the daylight, Sparhawk,’ Bevier said dubiously, ‘and it can follow our scent.’
‘I know. At this point I think speed is our only defence. We’re going to have to try to outrun that thing again.’
Kurik, Ulath and Tynian returned as dusk was settling over the desolate landscape. ‘There doesn’t seem to be anybody else out there,’ the squire reported, swinging down from his gelding.
‘We’re going to have to keep going,’ Sparhawk told him.
‘The horses are right on the verge of exhaustion, Sparhawk,’ the squire protested. He looked at the others. ‘And the people aren’t in much better shape. None of us has had very much sleep in the last two days.’
‘I’ll take care of it,’ Sephrenia said calmly, looking up from her examination of Kalten’s hairy torso.
‘How?’ Kalten sounded just a bit grumpy.
She smiled at him and wiggled her fingers under his nose. ‘How else?’
‘If there’s a spell that counteracts the way we’re all feeling right now, why didn’t you teach it to us before?’ Sparhawk was also feeling somewhat surly, since his headache had returned.
‘Because it’s dangerous, Sparhawk,’ she replied. ‘I know you Pandions. Given certain circumstances, you’d try to go on for weeks.’
‘So? If the spell really works, what difference does it make?’
‘The spell only makes you feel as if you’ve rested, but you have not, in fact. If you push it too far, you’ll die.’
‘Oh. That stands to reason, I suppose.’
‘I’m glad you understand.’
‘How’s Berit?’ Tynian asked.
‘He’ll be sore for a while, but he’s all right,’ she replied.
‘The young fellow shows some promise,’ Ulath said. ‘When his arm heals, I’ll give him some instruction with that axe of his. He’s got the right spirit, but his technique’s a little shaky.’
‘Bring the horses over here,’ Sephrenia told them. She began to speak in Styric, uttering some of the words under her breath and concealing her moving fingers from them. Try as he might, Sparhawk could not catch all of the incantation, nor even guess at the gestures which enhanced the spell. But suddenly he felt enormously refreshed. The dull headache was gone, and his mind was clear. One of the packhorses, whose head had been drooping and whose legs had been trembling violently, actually began to prance around like a colt.
‘Good spell,’ Ulath said laconically. ‘Shall we get started?’
They helped Berit into his saddle and rode out in the luminous twilight. The full moon rose an hour or so later, and it gave them sufficient light to risk a canter.
‘There’s a road just over that hill up ahead,’ Kurik told Sparhawk. ‘We saw it when we were looking around. It goes more or less in the right direction, and we could make better time if we follow it instead of stumbling over broken ground in the dark.’
‘I expect you’re right,’ Sparhawk agreed, ‘and we want to get out of this area as quickly as possible.’
When they reached the road, they pushed on to the east at a gallop. It was well past midnight when clouds moved in from the west, obscuring the night sky. Sparhawk muttered an oath and slowed their pace.
Just before dawn they came to a river, and the road turned north. They followed it, searching for a bridge or a ford. The dawn was gloomy under the heavy cloud cover. They rode upriver a few more miles, and then the road bent east again and ran down into the river to emerge on the far side.
Beside the ford stood a small hut. The man who owned the hut was a sharp-eyed fellow in a green tunic who demanded a toll to cross. Rather than argue with him, Sparhawk paid what he asked. ‘Tell me, neighbour,’ he said when the transaction was completed, ‘how far is the Pelosian border?’
‘About five leagues,’ the sharp-eyed fellow replied. ‘If you move swiftly, you should reach it by afternoon.’
‘Thanks, neighbour. You’ve been most helpful.’
They splashed on across the ford. When they reached the other side, Talen rode up beside Sparhawk. ‘Here’s your money back,’ the young thief said, handing over several coins.
Sparhawk gave him a startled look.
‘I don’t object to paying a toll to cross a bridge,’ Talen sniffed. ‘After all, somebody had to go to the expense of building it. That fellow was just taking advantage of a natural shallow place in the river, though. It didn’t cost him anything, so why should he make a profit from it?’
‘You cut his purse, then?’
‘Naturally.’
‘And there was more in it than just my coins?’
‘A bit. Let’s call it my fee for recovering your money. After all, I deserve a profit too, don’t I?’
‘You’re incorrigible.’
‘I needed the practice.’
From the other side of the river there came a how of anguish.
‘I’d say he just discovered his loss,’ Sparhawk observed.
‘It does sound that way, doesn’t it?’
The soil on the far side of the river