before that – when it was just a shadow – only Ehlana and I could see it, and that was because we were wearing the rings. This was definitely a shadow and not a cloud, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ Stragen admitted.
‘Then how is it that you and Ulath could see it too?’
Stragen spread his hands helplessly.
‘There’s something else too,’ Sparhawk added. ‘The night I came home from Lamorkand, I felt something in the street watching me – several somethings. They weren’t Elene or Styric, and I don’t think they were human. That shadow that just passed through here felt exactly the same.’
‘I wish there was some way we could talk with Sephrenia,’ Ulath muttered.
Sparhawk was fairly certain that there was a way, but he was not free to reveal it to any of them.
‘Do we tell anybody else about this?’ Stragen asked.
‘Let’s not start a panic until we find out some more about it,’ Sparhawk decided.
‘Right,’ Stragen agreed. ‘There’s always plenty of time for panic later – plenty of reason too, I think.’
The weather cleared over the next few days, and that fact alone lifted spirits in the palace. Sparhawk spent some time closeted with Platime and Stragen, and then the two thieves sent men into Lamorkand to investigate the situation there. ‘That’s what I should have done in the first place,’ Sparhawk said, ‘but Sarathi wouldn’t give me the chance. Our revered Archprelate has a few blind spots. He can’t seem to get it through his head that official investigators aren’t going to ever really get to the bottom of things.’
‘Typical aristocratic ineptitude,’ Stragen drawled. ‘It’s one of the things that makes life easier for people like Platime and me.’
Sparhawk didn’t argue with him about that. ‘Just tell your men to be careful,’ he cautioned them. ‘Lamorks tend to try to solve all their problems with daggers, and dead spies don’t bring home very much useful information.’
‘Astonishing insight there, old boy,’ Stragen said, his rich voice dripping with irony. ‘It’s absolutely amazing that Platime and I never thought of that.’
‘All right,’ Sparhawk admitted, ‘maybe I was being just a little obvious.’
‘We saw that too, didn’t we, Platime?’
Platime grunted. ‘Tell Ehlana that I’m going to be away from the palace for a few days, Sparhawk.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘None of your business. There’s something I want to take care of.’
‘All right, but keep in touch.’
‘You’re being obvious again, Sparhawk.’ The fat man scratched his paunch. ‘I’ll talk with Talen. He’ll know how to get in touch with me if the queen really needs me for something.’ He groaned as he hauled himself to his feet. ‘I’m going to have to lose some weight,’ he said half to himself. Then he waddled to the door with that peculiarly spraddle-legged gait of the grossly obese.
‘He’s in a charming humour today,’ Sparhawk noted.
‘He’s got a lot on his mind just now,’ Stragen shrugged.
‘How well-connected are you in the palace at Emsat, Stragen?’
‘I have some contacts there. What do you need?’
‘I’d like to put some stumbling blocks in the way of this accommodation between Avin and Count Gerrich. Gerrich’s beginning to get a little too much influence in northern Eosia. Maybe you ought to get word to Meland in Acie as well. Gerrich’s making alliances in Pelosia and Thalesia already. It doesn’t seem reasonable that he’d overlook Deira, and Deira’s a little chaotic right now. Ask Meland to keep his eyes open.’
‘This Gerrich’s really got you concerned, hasn’t he?’
‘There are some things going on in Lamorkand that I don’t understand, Stragen, and I don’t want Gerrich to get too far ahead of me while I’m trying to sort them out.’
‘That makes sense – I suppose.’
Khalad came to his feet with his eyes slightly unfocused and with a thin dribble of blood coming out of his nose.
‘You see? You over-extended again,’ Mirtai told him.
‘How did you do that?’ Sparhawk’s squire asked her.
‘I’ll show you. Kalten, come here.’
‘Not me,’ the blond Pandion refused, backing away.
‘Don’t be foolish. I’m not going to hurt you.’
‘Isn’t that what you told Khalad before you bounced him off the flagstones?’
‘You might as well do as I tell you, Kalten,’ she said. ‘You’ll wind up doing it in the end anyway, and it won’t be nearly as painful for you if you don’t argue with me. Take out your sword and stab me in the heart with it.’
‘I don’t want to hurt you, Mirtai.’
‘You? Hurt me?’ Her laugh was sardonic.
‘You don’t have to be insulting about it,’ he said in an injured tone, drawing his sword.
It had all begun when Mirtai had passed through the palace courtyard while Kalten was giving Khalad some instruction in swordsmanship. She had made a couple of highly unflattering comments. One thing had led to another, and the end result had been this impromptu training session, during which Kalten and Khalad learned humility, if nothing else.
‘Stab me through the heart, Kalten,’ Mirtai said again.
In Kalten’s defence it should be noted in passing that he really did try. He made a great deal of noise when he came down on his back on the flagstones.
‘He made the same mistake you did,’ Mirtai pointed out to Khalad. ‘He straightened his arm too much. A straight arm is a locked arm. Always keep your elbow slightly bent.’
‘We’re trained to thrust from the shoulder, Mirtai,’ Khalad explained.
‘There are a lot of Elenes, I suppose,’ she shrugged. ‘It shouldn’t be all that hard to replace you. The thing that makes me curious is why you all feel that it’s necessary to stick your sword all the way through somebody. If you haven’t hit the heart with the first six inches of the blade, another yard or so of steel going through the same hole won’t make much difference, will it?’
‘Maybe it’s because it looks dramatic,’ Khalad said.
‘You kill people for show? That’s contemptible, and it’s the sort of thinking that fills graveyards. Always keep your blade free so that you’re ready for your next enemy. People fold up when you run swords through them, and then you have to kick the body off the blade before you can use it again.’
‘I’ll try to remember that.’
‘I hope so. I rather like you, and I hate burying friends.’ She bent, professionally peeled Kalten’s eyelid back and glanced at his glazed eyeball. ‘You’d better throw a bucket of water on our friend here,’ she suggested. ‘He hasn’t learned how to fall yet. We’ll go into that next time.’
‘Next time?’
‘Of course. If you’re going to learn how to do this, you’d better learn how to do it right.’ She gave Sparhawk a challenging look. ‘Would you like to try?’ she asked him.
‘Ah – no, Mirtai, not right now. Thanks all the same, though.’
She went on into the palace, looking just slightly pleased with herself.
‘You