The Hidden City

parchment, and gently removed the thick lock of pale blonde hair, Berit’s mind suddenly filled with flames. His grip tightened round the haft of his war-axe.
    Khalad took him by the arm, and Berit was dimly startled by just how strong his friend’s grip was. ‘That’s not going to do anybody any good at all, Berit,’ he said in a crisp voice. ‘Now why don’t you just give me the axe before you do something foolish with it?’
    Berit drew in a deep, trembling breath pushing away his sudden, irrational fury. ‘Sorry, Khalad,’ he said. ‘I sort of lost my grip there for a moment. I’ll be all right now.’ He looked at his friend. ‘Sparhawk’s going to let you kill Krager, isn’t he?’
    ‘So he says.’
    ‘Would you like some help?’
    Khalad flashed him a quick grin. ‘It’s always nice to have company when you’re doing something that takes several days,’ he said.
    Sparhawk quickly read the note, his free hand still gently holding the lock of Ehlana’s pale hair. Berit could see the muscles rippling along his friend’s jaw as he read. He handed the note to Vanion. ‘You’d better read this to them,’ he said bleakly.
    Vanion nodded and took the note. He cleared his throat.
    ‘“Well now, Sparhawk,”’ he read aloud. “‘I gather that your temper-tantrum’s over. I hope you didn’t kill too many of the people who were supposed to be guarding your wife.
    ‘“The situation here is painfully obvious, I’m afraid. We’ve taken Ehlana hostage. You will behave yourself, won’t you, old boy? The tiresomely obvious part of all of this is that you can have her back in exchange for Bhelliom and the rings. We’ll give you a few days to rant and rave and try to find some way out of this. Then, when you’ve come to your senses and realize that you have no choice but to do exactly as you’re told, I’ll drop you another note with some rather precise instructions. Do be a good boy and follow the instructions to the letter. I’d really rather not be forced to kill your wife, so don’t try to be creative.
    ‘“Be well, Sparhawk, and keep an eye out for my next note. You’ll know it’s from me because I’ll decorate it with another lock of Ehlana’s hair. Pay very close attention, because if our correspondence continues for too long, your wife will run out of hair, and I’ll have to start using fingers.”
    ‘And it’s signed “Krager”,’ Vanion concluded.
    Kalten smashed his fist into the wall, his face rigid with fury.
    ‘That’s enough of that!’ Vanion snapped.
    ‘What are we going to do?’ Kalten demanded. ‘We have to do something!’
    ‘We’re not going to jump eight feet into the air and come down running, for a start,’ Vanion told him.
    ‘Where’s Mirtai?’ Kring’s voice had a note of sudden alarm.
    ‘She’s perfectly all right, Domi,’ Sarabian assured him. ‘She was a little upset when she found out what happened.’
    ‘A little?’ Oscagne murmured. ‘It took twelve men to subdue her. She’s in her room, Domi Kring—chained to the bed, actually. There are some guards there as well to keep her from doing herself any injury.’
    Kring abruptly turned and left Melidere’s bedroom.
    ‘We’re tiring you, aren’t we, Baroness?’ Sarabian said then.
    ‘Not in the least, your Majesty,’ she replied in a cool voice. She looked around at them. ‘It’s a bit cramped in here. Why don’t we adjourn to the sitting-room? I’d imagine we’ll be most of the night at this, so we might as well be comfortable.’ She threw back her blankets and started to get out of bed.
    Stragen gently restrained her. Then he picked her up.
    ‘I can walk, Stragen,’ she protested.
    ‘Not while I’m around, you can’t.’ Stragen’s customary expression of civilized urbanity was gone as he looked around at the others, and it had been replaced with one of cold, tightly suppressed rage. ‘One thing gentlemen,’ he told them. ‘When we catch up with these people, Elron’s mine. I’ll be very put out with anybody who accidentally kills him.’
    Baroness Melidere’s eyes were quite content, and there was a faint smile on her face as she laid her head on Stragen’s shoulder.
    Caalador was waiting for them in the sitting-room. His knees and elbows were muddy, and there were cobwebs in his hair.
    ‘I found it, your Majesty,’ he reported to the Emperor. ‘It comes out in the basement of that barracks the Church Knights have been using.’ He looked