‘You know better than that.’
‘There’s a girl, Sparhawk, and she loves somebody else. Are you satisfied now?’
‘Why didn’t you say something earlier?’
‘I just now found out about it.’
‘Kalten, you’re not making any sense at all. One girl’s always been the same as another to you. Most of the time you can’t even remember their names.’
‘This time’s different. Can we go get drunk now?’
‘How do you know she doesn’t feel the same way about you?’ Sparhawk knew who the girl was, and he was quite certain that she did in fact return his friend’s feelings for her.
Kalten sighed. ‘God knows that there are people in this world who are brighter than I am, Sparhawk. It’s taken me all this time to put it together. I’ll tell you one thing, though. If he breaks her heart, I’ll kill him, brother or no.’
‘Will you at least try to make some sense?’
‘She told me that she loves somebody else – as plain as if she’d come right out and said it in so many words.’
‘Alean wouldn’t do that.’
‘How did you know it was Alean?’ The big blond man sprang to his feet. ‘Have you all been laughing at me behind my back?’ he demanded pugnaciously.
‘Don’t be an ass. We wouldn’t do that. We’ve all been through exactly the same thing. You didn’t invent love, you know.’
‘Everybody knows, though, don’t they?’
‘No. I’m probably the only one – except for Melidere. Nothing much gets past her. Now what’s all this nonsense about Alean loving somebody else?’
‘I just put it together myself.’
‘What did you put together? Try to make a little sense, Kalten.’
‘Didn’t you hear her singing on the day we left?’
‘Of course I did. She has a beautiful voice.’
‘I’m not talking about her voice. I’m talking about the song she was singing. It was “My Bonnie Blue-Eyed Boy”.’
‘So?’
‘It’s Berit, Sparhawk. She’s in love with Berit.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I just noticed it when we sat down to supper.’ Kalten buried his face in his hands again. ‘I never paid any attention before, but when I looked into his face while we were talking, I saw it. I’m surprised you haven’t seen it yourself.’
‘Seen what?’
‘Berit’s got blue eyes.’
Sparhawk stared at him. Then, being careful not to laugh, he said, ‘So do you – when they’re not bloodshot.’
Kalten shook his head stubbornly. ‘His are bluer than mine. I know it’s him. I just know it! God’s punishing me for some of the things I’ve done in the past. He made me fall in love with a girl who loves somebody else. Well, I hope He’s satisfied. If He wants to make me suffer, He’s doing a good job of it.’
‘Will you be serious?’
‘Berit’s younger than I am, Sparhawk, and God knows he’s better looking.’
‘Kalten.’
‘Look at the way every girl who gets to within a hundred yards of him starts to follow him around like a puppy. Even the Atan girls were all falling in love with him.’
‘Kalten.’
‘I know it’s him. I just know it. God’s twisting His knife in my heart. He’s gone and made the one girl I’ll ever feel this way about fall in love with one of my brother-knights.’
‘Kalten.’
Kalten sat up and squared his shoulders. ‘All right, then,’ he said weakly, ‘if that’s the way God wants it, that’s the way it’s going to be. If Berit and Alean really, really love each other, I won’t stand in their way. I’ll bite my tongue and keep my mouth shut.’
‘Kalten.’
‘But I swear it to you, Sparhawk,’ the blond Pandion said hotly, ‘if he hurts her, I’ll kill him!’
‘Kalten!’ Sparhawk shouted at him.
‘What?’
Sparhawk sighed. ‘Why don’t we go out and get drunk?’ he suggested, giving up entirely.
It was cloudy the following morning. It was a low, dirty-gray cloud-cover which seethed and tattered in the stiff wind aloft. It was one of those peculiar days when the murk raced overhead, streaming in off the gulf lying to the west, but the air at the surface was dead calm.
They set out early and clattered along the narrow, cobbled streets where sleepy-eyed shopkeepers were opening their shutters and setting out their wares. They passed through the city gates and took the road that followed the north coast of the gulf.
After they had gone a mile or so, Vanion leaned over in his saddle. ‘How far do we have to go?’ he asked Flute, who nestled, as always, in her sister’s arms.
‘What difference does it make?’ the Child Goddess shrugged.
‘I’d like to know how long it’s going to take.’
‘What does “how far” have to do with “how long”?’
‘They’re the same thing, Aphrael. Time and distance mean the same thing when you’re traveling.’
‘Not if you know what you’re doing, they don’t.’
Sparhawk had always admired Vanion, but never quite so much as in that moment. The silvery-bearded preceptor did not even raise his voice. ‘All I’m really getting at, Divine One, is that nobody knows we’re here. Shouldn’t we keep it that way? I don’t mind a good fight now and then, but would bashing our way through crowds of drunken Edomish peasants serve any real purpose right now?’
