"So saying, he raised once more his dreadful spear. "Defend thyself, Drychtnath, for though I must slay thee, I would not murder thee." Then raised n.o.ble Drychtnath his face. "That will I not do, " quotha, "for if my brother have need of my life, I give it to him freely."
""Forgive me," quoth Starkad, raising again his deadly spear. "That may I not do," quoth the hero. "My life mayest thou freely have, but never my forgiveness."
""So be it then," quoth Starkad, and, so saying, plunged he his deadly spear full into Drychtnath"s mighty heart.
"A moment only the hero stood, and then slowly, as falls the mighty oak, fell all the pride of Lamorkland, and the earth and the heavens resounded with his fall."
There were tears in Talen"s eyes. "Did he get away with it?" he demanded fiercely. "I mean, didn"t one of Drychtnath"s other friends pay him back?" The boy"s face clearly showed his eagerness to hear more.
"Surely you wouldn"t want to waste your time with some tired, worn-out old story that"s been around for thousands of years?" Ortzel said. He feigned some astonishment, but there was a sly twinkle in his eye. Sparhawk covered his own smile with his hand. Ortzel had definitely changed, all right.
"I don"t know about Talen," Ulath said, "but I would." There were obviously some strong similarities between the culture of present-day Thalesia and that of ancient Lamorkland.
"Well, now," Ortzel said, "I"d say that some bargaining might be in order here. How many acts of contrition would the two of you be willing to give our Holy Mother in exchange for the rest of the story?"
""Ortzel," Dolmant reproved him.
The Patriarch of Kadach held up one hand. "It"s perfectly legitimate exchange, Sarathi," he said. "The Church has used it many times in the past. When I was a simple country pastor, I used this exact method to ensure regular attendance at services. My congregation was known far and wide for its piety-until I ran out of stories." Then he laughed. They were all a bit startled at that. Most of them were fairly sure that the stern, unbending Patriarch of Kadach didn"t even know how. "I was only teasing," he told the young thief and the gigantic Thalesian. "I wouldn"t be too disappointed, however, if the two of you gave the condition of your souls some serious thought."
"Tell the story," Mirtai insisted. Mirtai was also a warrior, and also, it appeared, susceptible to a stirring tale.
"Do I sense the possibility of a convert here?" Ortzel asked her.
"What you"re sensing is the possibility of failing health, Ortzel," she said bluntly. Mirtai never used t.i.tles when she spoke to people.
"All right, then," Ortzel laughed again and continued with his translation.
"Hearken then, O men of Lamorkland, and hear how Starkad was paid. Some tears then shed he over his fallen brother, then turned he his raging wrath upon the Peloi, and they fled screaming from him. Straightway left he the strife-place and journeyed even to the Holy City of Chyrellos, there to advise the princes of the Church that their design was done. And when they had gathered all in the Basilica which is the crown of their o"erweening pride, recounted Starkad the sad tale of the fall of Drychtnath, mightiest hero of yore.
"And gloated then the soft and pampered princes of the Church at the hero"s fall, thinking that their pride and power and position were safe, and spake they each in praise of Starkad and offered him good gold beyond measure for the deed he had done.
"Cold, however, was the hero"s heart, and he looked upon the little men he had served, recalling with tears the great man he had slain at their bidding. "Lordlings of the Church," quotha then. "Think ye that mere gold will satisfy me as payment for what I have done in your behalf?"
""But what else may we offer thee?" they asked in great perplexity.
""I would have Drychtnath"s forgiveness," quoth Starkad.
""But that we may not obtain for thee," they said unto him, "for dreaded Drychtnath lieth low in the House of the Dead from whence no man returneth. Pray, mighty hero, tell us what else we may offer thee in recompense for this great service thou hast provided us."
""But one thing," quoth Starkad in deadly earnest.
""And that is what?" they asked.
""Your heart"s blood," quoth Starkad. And, so saying, sprang he to the ma.s.sy door and chained it shut with chains of steel that none might escape him. Then drew he forth Soritha, dread Drychtnath"s bright blade, which he had brought with him to Chyrellos for just this purpose. And then took the hero Starkad his payment for the deed he had done on the plains of the Peloi.
"And when he had finished collecting that which was owed him, the Church of Chyrellos lay headless, for not one of her princes saw the setting of the sun that day, and sorrowing still that he had slain his friend, Starkad sadly took his leave of the Holy City and never returned there more.
"But it is said in dark-forested Lamorkland that the oracles and the auguries speak still of the mighty Drychtnath and of the day when the War-G.o.d Hrokka will relent and release the spirit of Drychtnath from his service as one of the Immortal Thanes in the hall of Heroes that he may come once more to Lamorkland to take up again that grand design. Then how the blood will flow, and then how the kings of the world will tremble as once again the world shakes beneath the mighty stride of Dread Drychtnath the Destroyer, and the crown and throne of the world shall lie in his immortal grip, as was from the beginning intended."
Ortzel"s voice fell silent, indicating that he had reached the end.
"That"s all?" Talen protested vehemently.
"I skipped over a great "number of pa.s.sages," Ortzel conceded, "battle descriptions and the like. The Lamorks of antiquity had an unhealthy fascination with certain kinds of numbers. They wanted to know how many barrels of blood, pounds of brains and yards of entrails were spilled out during the festivities."
"But the story doesn"t end right," Talen complained. "Drychtnath was the hero, but after Starkad murdered him, he turned into the hero. That isn"t right. The bad people shouldn"t be allowed to change over like that."
"That"s a very interesting argument, Talen-particularly coming from you."
"I"m not a bad person, your Grace, I"m just a thief. It"s not the same at all. At least the churchmen all got what was coming to them."
"You have a long way to go with this one, Sparhawk," Bevier observed. "We all loved Kurik like a brother, but are we really sure that his son has the makings of a Church Knight in him?"
"I"m working on that," Sparhawk replied. "So that"s what Drychtnath"s all about. Just how deeply do the commons in Lamorkand believe in the story, your Grace?"
"It goes deeper than belief, Sparhawk," Ortzel replied. "The story"s in our blood. I"m wholly committed to the Church, but when I hear The Drychtnathasaga, I become an absolute pagan-for a while at least."
"Well," Tynian said, "now we know what we"re up against. We have the same thing going on in Lamorkand as we have in Render. We"ve got heresies springing up all around us. It still doesn"t solve our problem, though. How are Sparhawk and the rest of us going to be able to go to Tamuli without insulting the emperor?"
"I"ve solved that problem already, Tynian," Ehlana told him.
"I beg your Majesty"s pardon?"
"It"s so simple that I"m almost ashamed of you all that you didn"t think of it first."
"Enlighten us, your Majesty," Stragen said. "Make us blush for our stupidity."
"It"s time for the western Elene Kingdoms to open communications with the Tamul Empire," she explained. "We are neighbours, after all. It"s politically very sound for me to make a state visit to Matherion, and if you gentlemen are all very nice to me, I"ll invite you to come along." She frowned. "That was the least of our problems. Now we"ll have to address something far more serious."
"And what is that, Ehlana?" Dolmant asked her.
"I simply don"t have a thing to wear, Sarathi."
Chapter 6.
Sparhawk had learned to keep a tight rein on his emotions during the years since his marrage to the Queen of Elenia, but his smile was slightly fixed as the meeting broke up. Kalten fell in beside him as they all left the council chamber.
"I gather that you"re less than pleased with our queen"s solution to the problem," he observed. Kalten was Sparhawk"s boyhood friend, and he had learned how to read that battered face.
"You might say that, yes," Sparhawk replied tightly.
"Are you open to a suggestion?"
"I"ll listen." Sparhawk didn"t want to make any promises at this point.
"Why don"t you and I go down into the crypt under the Basilica?"
"Why?"
"I thought you might want to vent certain feelings before you and your wife discuss the matter. You"re a bit savage when you"re angry, Sparhawk, and I"m really very fond of your wife. If you call her an idiot to her face, you"ll hurt her feelings."
"Are you trying to be funny?"
"Not in the least, my friend. I feel almost the same way about it as you do, and I"ve had a very colourful education. When you run out of swear-words, I"ll supply some you might not have heard."
"Let"s go," Sparhawk said, turning abruptly down a side corridor. They pa.s.sed through the nave quickly, perfunctorily genuflecting to the altar in pa.s.sing, and descended into the crypt that contained the bones of several aeons" worth of Archprelates.
"Don"t bang your fists on the walls," Kalten cautioned as Sparhawk began to pace up and down, swearing and waving his arms in the air. "You"ll break your knuckles."
"It"s a total absurdity, Kalten!" Sparhawk said after he had shouted profanities for several minutes.
"It"s worse than that, my friend. There"s always room in the world for absurdities. They"re sort of fun actually, but this is dangerous. We have no way of knowing what we"re going to encounter in Tamuli. I love your wife dearly, but having her along is going to be inconvenient."
"Inconvenient?"
"I"m trying to be polite. How does "b.l.o.o.d.y hindering awkward" strike you?"
"It"s closer."
"You"ll never persuade her to stay home though. I"d give that up as a lost cause before I even started. She"s obviously made up her mind, and she outranks you. You probably ought to try to put the best face on it avoid the embarra.s.sment of being told to shut your mouth and go to your room." Sparhawk grunted. "I think our best approach is to talk with Oscagne. We"ll be taking the most precious thing in Elenia to the Daresian continent where things are far from tranquil. Your wife"s going there as a personal favour to the Emperor of Tamuli, so he"s obligated to protect her. An escort of a few dozen legions of Atans meeting us at the Astel border might be looked upon as a sign of his majesty"s appreciation, wouldn"t you say?"
"That"s really not a bad idea, Kalten."
"I"m not totally stupid, Sparhawk. Now, Ehlana"s going to expect you to rant and rave and wave your arms at her. She"s ready for that, so don"t do it. She is going along. We lost that fight already, wouldn"t you say?"
"Unless I chain her to the bed."
"There"s an interesting idea."
"Never mind."
"It"s tactically unsound to fight a last stand unless you"re trapped. Give her that victory, and then she"ll owe you one. Use it to get her to agree not to do anything while we"re in Tamuli without your express permission. That way we can keep her almost as safe as she"d be if she stayed home. There"s a good chance that she"ll be so happy that you didn"t scream at her that she"ll agree without thinking it all the way through. You"ll be able to restrict her movements when we get there-at least enough to keep her out of danger."
"Kalten, sometimes you amaze me," Sparhawk told his friend.
"I know," the blond Pandion replied. "This stupidlooking face of mine is very useful sometimes."
"Where did you ever learn so much about manipulating royalty?"
"I"m not manipulating royalty, Sparhawk. I"m manipulating a woman, and I"m an expert at that. Women are born negotiators. They love these little trades. If you go to a woman and say, "I"ll do this for you if you do that for me," she"ll almost always be willing to talk about it at least. Women always want to talk about things. If you keep your eye on what you really want, you"ll almost always come out on top." He paused. "Metaphorically speaking of course," he added.
"What are you up to, Sparhawk?" Mirtai asked him suspiciously when he approached the suite of rooms Dolmant had provided for Ehlana and her personal retinue. Sparhawk carefully let the smug expression slide from his face and a.s.sumed one of grave concern instead. "Don"t try to be clever, Sparhawk," she told him. "if you hurt her, I"ll have to kill you, you know."
"I"m not going to hurt her, Mirtai. I"m not even going to yell at her."
"You"re up to something, aren"t you?"
"Of course I am. After you lock me inside, put your ear to the door and listen." He gave her a sidelong look. "But you do that all the time anyway, don"t you?"
She actually blushed. She jerked the door open. "Just get in there, Sparhawk!" she commanded, her face like a thundercloud.
"My, aren"t we testy tonight?"
"Go!"
"Yes, ma"am."
Ehlana was ready for him, that much was fairly obvious. She was wearing a dressing-gown of a pale rose that made her look particularly appealing, and she had done things with her hair. There was a barely noticeable tightness about her eyes, though.
"Good evening, love," Sparhawk said calmly. "Tedious day, wasn"t it? Conferences can be so exhausting at times." He crossed the room, pausing to kiss her almost perfunctorily in pa.s.sing, and poured himself a gla.s.s of wine.
"I know what you"re going to say, Sparhawk." she said.
"Oh?" He gave her an innocent look.
"You"re angry with me, aren"t you?"
"No. Not really. What made you think I"d be angry?"
She looked a bit less sure of herself. "You mean you"re not? I thought you"d be raging by now about my decision to pay a state visit to Tamuli, I mean."
"No, actually it"s a very good idea. Of course we"ll have to take a few precautions to ensure your safety, but we always have to do that, so we"re sort of used to it, aren"t we?"
"What kind of precautions are we talking about here?" Her tone was suspicious.
"Nothing all that extreme, dear. I don"t think you should go walking in the forest alone or visiting thieves" dens without some sort of escort. I"m not talking about anything out of the ordinary, and you"re used to certain restrictions on your movements already. We"ll be in a strange country, and we don"t know the people. I know that you"ll trust me to sort of nose things out, and that you won"t argue with me if I tell you that something"s too dangerous. We can all live with that, I"m sure. You pay me to protect you, after all, so we won"t have any silly little squabbles about security measures, now will we?" He kept his tone mild and sweetly reasonable, giving her no reason to raise any questions about exactly what he had in mind when he spoke of "security measures."
"You know much more about that sort of thing than I do, my love," she conceded, "so I"ll leave all that entirely in your hands. If a girl has a champion who just happens to be the greatest knight in the world, she"d be foolish not to pay attention to him, now wouldn"t she?"
"My feelings exactly," he agreed. It was a small victory, to be sure, but when one is dealing with a queen, victories of any kind are hard to come by.
"Well," she said, rising to her feet, "since we"re not going to fight, why don"t we go to bed?"
"Good idea."
The kitten Talen had given to Princess Danae was named Mmrr, and Mmrr had one habit that particularly irritated Sparhawk. Kittens like to have company when they sleep, and Mmrr had found that when Sparhawk slept, he curled up slightly and that the s.p.a.ce just behind his knees was a perfect place for her to nest. Sparhawk customarily slept with the covers pulled tightly around his neck, but that was no real problem. A cold, wet nose touched to the back of his neck caused him to flinch away violently, and that involuntary movement would always open just enough of a gap for an enterprising kitten. Mmrr found the whole process quite satisfactory and even rather amusing. Sparhawk, however, did not. It was shortly before dawn when he emerged from the bedroom, tousled, sleepy-eyed and just a bit out of sorts.
Princess Danae wandered into the large central room absently dragging Rollo behind her. "Have you seen my cat?" she asked her father.
"She"s in bed with your mother," he replied shortly.
"I should have known, I suppose. Mmrr likes the way mother smells. She told me so herself."