The Sapphire Rose

Kalten’s face grew mournful. ‘You’re going to be a spoilsport about this, aren’t you, Sparhawk,’ he lamented.

‘That one escapes me.’

‘You’re going to tell the queen about this, I suppose, and then she’ll decide that the information’s important enough to keep Lycheas’s head on his neck or his feet on the floor.’

‘I’m sort of obliged to keep her advised, Kalten.’

‘I don’t suppose we could persuade you to wait a while, could we?’

‘Wait? How long?’

‘Only until after the bastard’s funeral.’

Sparhawk grinned at his friend. ‘No, I’m afraid not, Kalten,’ he said. ‘I’d really like to oblige you, but I’ve got my own skin to consider. It might make my queen cross with me if I start hiding things from her.’

‘That’s about all Lycheas really knows,’ Vanion told them. ‘Now, we need to make a decision. Cluvonus is almost dead, and as soon as he dies, we’ll have to join the other orders at Demos for the ride to Chyrellos. That’s going to leave the queen totally unprotected here. We don’t know when Dolmant’s going to send us the command to march, and we don’t know how long it’s going to take the Elenian army to get back from Arcium. What are we going to do about the queen?’

‘Take her with us,’ Ulath shrugged.

‘I think you might get quite an argument there,’ Sparhawk said. ‘She’s only recently been restored to her throne, and she’s the sort who takes her responsibilities very seriously. She’ll definitely get her back up if you suggest that she abandon her capital at this point.’

‘Get her drunk,’ Kalten said.

‘Do what?’

‘You don’t want to just rap her on the head, do you? Get her tipsy, wrap her in a blanket and tie her across a saddle.’

‘Have you lost your mind? This is the queen, Kalten, not one of your blowsy barmaids.’

‘You can apologize later. The important thing is to get her to safety.’

‘It may not come to any of that,’ Vanion said. ‘Cluvonus might hang on for a while yet. He’s been on the brink of death for months now, but he’s still alive. He might even outlive Annias.’

‘That shouldn’t be too hard for him,’ Ulath said bleakly. ‘Annias doesn’t have much in the way of life expectancy just now.’

‘If I could persuade you gentlemen to curb your bloodlust for a moment,’ the Earl of Lenda interposed, ‘I think the important thing for now is to get someone to King Wargun down in Arcium and to persuade him to release the Elenian army – and enough Pandion Knights to keep the general staff in line when they get here. I’ll compose a letter to him advising in the strongest terms that we need the Elenian army back here in Cimmura just as quickly as they can get here.’

‘You’d better ask him to release the militant orders as well, My Lord,’ Vanion suggested. ‘I think we’re going to need them in Chyrellos.’

‘You might also send a letter to King Obler,’ Tynian added, ‘and to Patriarch Bergsten. Between them, they can probably prevail on Wargun. The King of Thalesia drinks too much, and he enjoys a good war, but he’s still a thoroughly political animal. He’ll see the necessity of protecting Cimmura and taking control of Chyrellos immediately – if someone explains it to him.’

Lenda nodded his agreement.

‘All this still doesn’t solve our problem, gentlemen,’ Bevier said. ‘Our messenger to Wargun could very well be no more than a day’s ride away when word reaches us that the Archprelate has died. That puts us right back into the same situation. Sparhawk will have to persuade a very reluctant queen to abandon her capital with no visible danger in view.’

‘Blow in her ear,’ Ulath said.

‘What was that?’ Sparhawk asked.

‘It usually works,’ Ulath said. ‘At least it does in Thalesia. I blew in a girl’s ear in Emsat once, and she followed me around for days.’

‘That’s disgusting!’ Sephrenia said angrily.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Ulath said mildly. ‘She seemed to enjoy it.’

‘Did you pat her on top of the head too, and scratch her chin – the way you’d have done if she’d been a puppy?’

‘I never thought of that,’ Ulath admitted. ‘Do you think it might have worked?’

She began to swear at him in Styric.

‘We’re getting a little far afield here,’ Vanion said. ‘We can’t compel the queen to leave Cimmura, and there’s no way to be absolutely certain that a force large enough to hold the walls can reach the city before we’re called away.’

‘I think the force is already here, Lord Vanion,’ Talen disagreed. The boy was dressed in the elegant doublet and hose Stragen had provided for him in Emsat, and he looked not unlike a youthful nobleman.

‘Don’t interrupt, Talen,’ Kurik said. ‘This is serious business. We don’t have time for childish jokes.’

‘Let him speak, Kurik,’ the Earl of Lenda said intently. ‘Good ideas can sometimes come from the most unusual places. Exactly what is this force you spoke of, young man?’

‘The people,’ Talen replied simply.

‘That’s absurd, Talen,’ Kurik said. ‘They aren’t trained.’

‘How much training do you really need in order to pour boiling pitch down on the heads of a besieging army?’ Talen shrugged.

‘It’s a very interesting notion, young man,’ Lenda said. ‘There was, in fact, an outpouring of popular support for Queen Ehlana after her coronation. The people of Cimmura – and of the surrounding towns and villages – might very well come to her aid. The problem, though, is that they don’t have any leaders. A mob of people milling around in the streets without anyone to direct them wouldn’t be much of a defence.’

‘There are leaders about, My Lord.’

‘Who?’ Vanion asked the boy.

‘Platime for one,’ Talen offered, ‘and if Stragen’s still here, he’d probably be fairly good at it as well.’

‘This Platime’s a sort of a scoundrel, isn’t he?’ Bevier asked dubiously.

‘Sir Bevier,’ Lenda said, ‘I’ve served on the royal council of Elenia for many years now, and I can assure you that not only the capital, but the entire kingdom as well has been in the hands of scoundrels for decades now.’

‘But –’ Bevier started to protest.

‘Is it the fact that Platime and Stragen are official scoundrels that upsets you, Sir Bevier?’ Talen asked lightly.

‘What do you think, Sparhawk?’ Lenda asked. ‘Do you think this Platime fellow could really direct some kind of military operation?’

Sparhawk thought it over. ‘He probably could,’ he said, ‘particularly if Stragen’s still here to help him.’

‘Stragen?’

‘He holds a position similar to Platime’s among the thieves in Emsat. Stragen’s a strange one, but he’s extremely intelligent, and he’s had an excellent education.’

‘They can call in old debts as well,’ Talen said. ‘Platime can draw men from Vardenais, Demos, the towns of Lenda and Cardos – not to mention the men he can get from the robber bands operating out in the countryside.’

‘It’s not really as if they were going to have to hold the city for an extended period of time,’ Tynian mused. ‘Only until the Elenian army gets here, and a great deal of what they’ll be doing is going to be pure intimidation. It’s unlikely that Primate Annias will be able to spare more than a thousand church soldiers from Chyrellos to cause problems here, and if the tops of the city walls are lined with a superior force, those soldiers will be very reluctant to attack. You know, Sparhawk, I think the boy’s come up with a remarkably good plan.’

‘I’m overcome by your confidence, Sir Tynian,’ Talen said with an extravagant bow.

‘There are veterans here in Cimmura as well,’ Kurik added, ‘former army men who can help direct the workers and peasants in the defence of the city.’

‘It’s all terribly unnatural, of course,’ the Earl of Lenda said sardonically. ‘The whole purpose of government has always been to keep the commons under control and out of politics entirely. The only purpose the common people really have for existing is to do the work and pay the taxes. We may be doing something here that we’ll all live to regret.’

‘Do we really have any choice, Lenda?’ Vanion asked him.

‘No, Vanion, I don’t think we have.’

‘Let’s get started with it then. My Lord of Lenda, I believe you have some correspondence to catch up with, and Talen, why don’t you go and see this Platime fellow?’

‘May I take Berit with me, My Lord Vanion?’ the boy asked, looking at the young novice.

‘I suppose so, but why?’

‘I’m sort of the official envoy from one government to another. I should have an escort of some kind to make me look more important. That sort of thing impresses Platime.’

‘One government to another?’ Kalten asked. ‘Do you actually think of Platime as a head of state?’

‘Well, isn’t he?’

As Sparhawk’s friends were filing out, Sparhawk briefly touched Sephrenia’s sleeve. ‘I need to talk with you,’ he said quietly.

‘Of course.’

He went to the door and closed it. ‘I probably should have told you about this before, little mother,’ he said, ‘but it all seemed so innocuous at the beginning –’ He shrugged.

‘Sparhawk,’ she told him, ‘you know better than that. You must tell me everything. I’ll decide what’s innocuous and what isn’t.’

‘All right. I think I’m being followed.’

Her eyes narrowed.

‘I had a nightmare right after we took Bhelliom away from Ghwerig. Azash was mixed up in it and so was Bhelliom. There was something else as well though – something I can’t put a name to.’

‘Can you describe it?’

‘Sephrenia, I can’t even see it. It seems to be some sort of shadow – something dark that’s right on the very edge of my vision – like a flicker of movement to one side and slightly behind me. I get the feeling that it doesn’t like me very much.’

‘Does it only come to you when you’re dreaming?’

‘No. I see it now and then when I’m awake too. It seems to appear whenever I take Bhelliom out of its pouch. There are other times as well, but I can almost count on seeing it anytime I open the pouch.’

‘Do that now, dear one,’ she instructed. ‘Let’s find out if I can see it too.’

Sparhawk reached inside his doublet, took out the pouch and opened it. He removed the Sapphire Rose and held it in his hand. The flicker of darkness was immediately there. ‘Can you see it?’ he asked.

Sephrenia looked carefully around the room. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘Can you feel anything coming from the shadow?’

‘I can tell that it isn’t fond of me.’ He put Bhelliom back into the pouch. ‘Any ideas?’

‘It might be something connected with Bhelliom itself,’ she suggested a bit dubiously. ‘To be perfectly honest with you, though, I don’t really know that much about Bhelliom. Aphrael doesn’t like to talk about it. I think the Gods are afraid of it. I know a little bit about how to use it, but that’s about all.’

‘I don’t know if there’s any connection,’ Sparhawk mused, ‘but somebody’s definitely interested in doing me in. There were those men on the road outside Emsat, that ship that Stragen thought might be following us and those outlaws who were looking for us on the Cardos road.’

‘Not to mention the fact that somebody tried to shoot you in the back with a crossbow when we were on our way to the palace,’ she added.

‘Could it be another Seeker perhaps?’ he suggested.

‘Something like that maybe. Once the Seeker takes control of somebody, the man becomes a mindless tool. These attempts on your life seem to be a bit more rational.’

‘Could Azash have some creature who could manage that?’

‘Who knows what kinds of creatures Azash can raise? I know of a dozen or so different varieties, but there are probably scores of others.’

‘Would you be offended if I tried logic?’

‘Oh, I suppose you can – if you feel you must.’ She smiled at him.

‘All right. First off, we know that Azash has wanted me dead for a long time now.’

‘All right.’

‘It’s probably even more important to Him now, though, because I’ve got Bhelliom, and I know how to use it.’

‘You’re stating the obvious, Sparhawk.’

‘I know. Logic’s like that sometimes. It doesn’t always happen, but these attempts to kill me usually come sometime not long after I’ve taken out the Bhelliom and caught a glimpse of that shadow.’

‘Some kind of connection, you think?’

‘Isn’t it possible?’

‘Almost anything’s possible, Sparhawk.’

‘All right then. If the shadow’s something like the Damork or the Seeker, it’s probably coming from Azash. That “probably” makes the logic a little shaky, but it’s something to sort of consider, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Under the circumstances I’d almost have to agree.’

‘What do we do about it then? It’s an interim hypothesis, and it ignores the possibility of pure coincidence, but shouldn’t we take some steps just in case there is some connection?’

‘I don’t think we can afford not to, Sparhawk. I think the first thing you should do is to keep Bhelliom inside that pouch. Don’t take it out unless you absolutely have to.’

‘That makes sense.’

‘And if you do have to take it out, be on your guard for an attempt on your life.’

‘I sort of do that automatically anyway – all the time. I’m in a nervous kind of profession.’

‘And, I think we’d better keep this to ourselves. If that shadow comes from Azash, it can turn our friends against us. Any one of them could turn on you at any time at all. If we tell them what we suspect, the shadow – or whatever it is – will probably know what’s in their thoughts. Let’s not warn Azash that we know what He’s doing.’

Sparhawk steeled himself to say it, and when he did, it was with a vast reluctance. ‘Wouldn’t it solve everything if we were just to destroy Bhelliom right here and now?’ he asked her.

She shook her head. ‘No, dear one,’ she said. ‘We may still need it.’

‘It’s a simple answer, though.’

‘Not really, Sparhawk.’ Her smile was bleak. ‘We don’t know for sure what kind of force the destruction of Bhelliom might release. We might lose something fairly important.’

‘Such as?’

‘The city of Cimmura – or the entire Eosian continent, for all I know.’

Chapter 6

It was nearly dusk when Sparhawk quietly opened the door to his queen’s bedroom and looked in on her. Her face was framed by that wealth of pale blonde hair fanning out on the pillow and catching the golden light of the single candle on the stand at the side of her bed. Her eyes were closed, and her face softly composed. He had discovered in the past day or so that an adolescence spent in the corrupt court dominated by the Primate Annias had marked her face with a kind of defensive wariness and a flinty determination. When she slept, however, her expression had the same soft, luminous gentleness that had caught at his heart when she was a child. Privately, and now without reservation, he admitted that he loved this pale girl-child, although he was still adjusting his conception of her in that regard. Ehlana was much a woman now and no longer a child. With an obscure kind of twinge, Sparhawk admitted to himself that he really was wrong for her. There was a temptation to take advantage of her girlish infatuation, but he knew that to do so would not only be morally wrong, but could also cause her much suffering later in her life. He determined that under no circumstances would he inflict the infirmities of his old age upon the woman he loved.

‘I know you’re there, Sparhawk.’ Her eyes did not open, and a soft smile touched her lips. ‘I always used to love that when I was a child, you know. Sometimes, particularly when you started lecturing me on theology, I’d doze off – or pretend to. You’d talk on for a while, and then you’d just sit there, watching me. It always made me feel so warm and secure and totally safe. Those moments were probably the happiest in my life. And just think, after we’re married, you’ll watch me go to sleep in your arms every night, and I’ll know that nothing in the world can ever hurt me, because you’ll always be there watching over me.’ She opened her calm grey eyes. ‘Come here and kiss me, Sparhawk,’ she told him, extending her arms.

‘It’s not proper, Ehlana. You’re not fully dressed, and you’re in bed.’

‘We’re betrothed, Sparhawk. We have a certain leeway in such matters. Besides, I’m the queen. I’ll decide what’s proper and what’s not.’

Sparhawk gave up and kissed her. As he had noted before, Ehlana was most definitely no longer a child. ‘I’m too old for you, Ehlana,’ he reminded her gently once again. He wanted to keep that firmly in front of both of them. ‘You do know that I’m right, don’t you?’

‘Nonsense.’ She had not yet removed her arms from about his neck. ‘I forbid you to get old. There, does that take care of it?’

‘You’re being absurd. You might as well order the tide to stop.’

‘I haven’t tried that yet, Sparhawk, and until I do, we won’t really know that it wouldn’t work, will we?’

‘I give up,’ he laughed.

‘Oh good. I just adore winning. Was there something important you wanted to tell me, or did you just stop by to ogle me?’

‘Do you mind?’

‘Being ogled? Of course not. Ogle to your heart’s content, beloved. Would you like to see more?’

‘Ehlana!’

Her laughter was a silvery cascade.

‘All right, let’s get down to more serious matters.’

‘I was being serious, Sparhawk – very serious.’

‘The Pandion Knights, myself included, are going to have to leave Cimmura before long, I’m afraid. The revered Cluvonus is failing fast, and as soon as he dies, Annias is going to make a try for the Archprelate’s throne. He’s flooded the streets of Chyrellos with troops loyal to him, and unless the militant orders are there to stop him, he’ll gain that throne.’

Her face took on that flinty expression again. ‘Why don’t you take that gigantic Thalesian, Sir Ulath, run on down to Chyrellos and chop Annias’s head off? Then come right back. Don’t give me time to get lonely.’

‘Interesting notion, Ehlana. I’m glad you didn’t suggest it in front of Ulath, though. He’d be on his way to the stables to saddle the horses by now. The point I was trying to make is that when we leave, you’re going to be left defenceless here. Would you consider coming along with us?’

She thought about it. ‘I’d love to, Sparhawk,’ she said, ‘but I don’t really see how I can just now. I’ve been incapacitated for quite some time, and I’ve got to stay here in Cimmura to repair the damage Annias caused while I was asleep. I have responsibilities, love.’

‘We were fairly sure you’d feel that way about it, so we’ve come up with an alternative plan to ensure your safety.’

‘You’re going to use magic and seal me up in the palace?’ Her eyes were impish as she teased him.

‘We hadn’t considered that,’ he conceded. ‘It probably wouldn’t work, though. As soon as Annias found out what we’d done, he’d probably send soldiers here to try to retake the city. His underlings would be able to run the kingdom from outside the palace walls, and you wouldn’t be able to do much to stop them. What we are going to do is put together a kind of an army to protect you – and the city – until your own army has time to come back from Arcium.’

‘The term “a kind of an army” sounds a little tentative, Sparhawk. Where are you going to get that many men?’

‘Off the streets, and from the farms and villages.’

‘Oh, that’s just fine, Sparhawk. Wonderful.’ Her tone was sarcastic. ‘I’m to be defended by ditch-diggers and ploughboys?’

‘Also by thieves and cut-throats, My Queen.’

‘You’re actually serious about this, aren’t you?’

‘Very much so. Don’t close your mind just yet, though. Wait until you hear the details, and there are a pair of scoundrels on their way here to meet you. Don’t make any decisions until after you’ve talked with them.’

‘I think you’re completely mad, Sparhawk. I still love you, but your mind seems to be slipping. You can’t make an army out of hod-carriers and clod-hoppers.’

‘Really? Where do you suppose the common soldiers in your army come from, Ehlana? Aren’t they recruited from the streets and farms?’

She frowned. ‘I hadn’t thought of that, I suppose,’ she conceded, ‘but without generals, I’m not going to have much of an army, you know.’

‘That’s what the two men I just mentioned are coming here to discuss with you, Your Majesty.’

‘Why is it that “Your Majesty” always sounds so cold and distant when you say it, Sparhawk?’

‘Don’t change the subject. You’ll agree to withhold judgement, then?’

‘If you say so, but I’m still a little dubious about this. I wish you could stay here.’

‘So do I, but –’ He spread his hands helplessly.

‘When will there ever be time for just us?’

‘It won’t be much longer, Ehlana, but we have to beat Annias. You understand that, don’t you?’

She sighed. ‘I suppose so.’

Talen and Berit returned not long afterwards with Platime and Stragen. Sparhawk met them in the sitting-room while Ehlana attended to those minute details that are always involved in making a woman ‘presentable’.

Stragen was at his elegant best, but the waddling, black-bearded Platime, chief of beggars, thieves, cut-throats and whores, looked distinctly out of place. ‘Ho, Sparhawk!’ the fat man bellowed. He had forgone his food-spotted orange doublet in favour of one in blue velvet that didn’t fit him very well.

‘Platime,’ Sparhawk replied gravely. ‘You’re looking quite natty this evening.’

‘Do you like it?’ Platime plucked at the front of his doublet with a pleased expression. He turned a full circle, and Sparhawk noted several knife holes in the back of the thief’s finery. ‘I’ve had my eye on it for several months now. I finally persuaded the former owner to part with it.’

‘Milord.’ Sparhawk bowed to Stragen.

‘Sir Knight,’ Stragen responded, also bowing.

‘All right, what’s this all about, Sparhawk?’ Platime demanded. ‘Talen was babbling some nonsense about forming up a home guard of some kind.’

‘Home guard. That’s a good term,’ Sparhawk approved. ‘The Earl of Lenda will be along in a few moments, and then I’m sure Her Majesty will make her entrance from that room over there – where she’s probably listening at the door right now.’

From the queen’s bed-chamber came the stamp of an angry foot.

‘How’s business been?’ Sparhawk asked the gross leader of the underside of Cimmura.

‘Quite good, actually,’ the fat man beamed. ‘Those foreign church soldiers the Primate sent to prop up the bastard Lycheas were very innocent. We robbed them blind.’

‘Good. I always like to see friends get on in the world.’

The door opened, and the ancient Earl of Lenda shuffled into the room. ‘Sorry to be late, Sparhawk,’ he apologized. ‘I’m not very good at running any more.’

‘Quite all right, My Lord of Lenda,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said to the two thieves, ‘I have the honour to present the Earl of Lenda, head of Her Majesty’s council of advisers. My Lord, these are the two men who will lead your home guard. This is Platime, and this, Milord Stragen from Emsat.’

They all bowed – at least Platime tried to bow. ‘Milord?’ Lenda asked Stragen curiously.

‘An affectation, My Lord of Lenda,’ Stragen smiled ironically. ‘It’s a carry-over from a misspent youth.’

‘Stragen’s one of the best,’ Platime put in. ‘He’s got some strange ideas, but he does very well – better even than me some weeks.’

‘You’re too kind, Platime,’ Stragen murmured with a bow.

Sparhawk crossed the room to the door to the queen’s bed-chamber. ‘We’re all assembled, My Queen,’ he said through the panel.

There was a pause, and then Ehlana, wearing a pale-blue satin gown and a discreet diamond tiara, entered. She stopped, looking around with a queenly bearing. ‘Your Majesty,’ Sparhawk said formally, ‘may I present Platime and Stragen, your generals?’