The Ruby Knight

fellow continued to gape at him without answering.
    Then a lean man with squinting eyes came out of a nearby house. ‘Won’t do you no good to talk to him,’ he said. ‘He got kicked in the head by a horse when he was young, and he ha’n’t been right since.’
    ‘Oh,’ Kurik said. ‘Sorry to hear about that. Maybe you could help us. We’re looking for a place called Giant’s Mound.’
    ‘You’re not plannin’ to go there at night, are you?’
    ‘No, we thought we’d wait until daylight.’
    ‘That’s a little better, but not much. It’s haunted, you know.’
    ‘No, I didn’t know that. Whereabouts is it?’
    ‘You see that lane as runs off toward the south-east?’ The lean man pointed.
    Kurik nodded.
    ‘Come sun-up, follow that. It runs right past the mound – four, maybe five mile from here.’
    ‘Have you ever seen anybody poking around it? Maybe somebody digging?’
    ‘Never heard tell of nothin’ like that. People as has good sense don’t poke around haunted places.’
    ‘We’ve heard that you’ve got a Troll in this area.’
    ‘What’s a Troll?’
    ‘Ugly brutes all covered with hair. This one is pretty badly deformed.’
    ‘Oh, that thing. It’s got a lair someplace out in the bogs. It only comes out at night. It wanders up an’ down the lake-shore. It makes awful noises for a while an’ then pounds on the ground with its front paws as if it was real mad about somethin’. I seen it a couple times myself when I was cuttin’ peat. I’d stay away from it if it was me. It seems like it’s got an awful bad temper.’
    ‘Sounds like good advice to me. Ever see any Styrics hereabouts?’
    ‘No. They don’t come around here. People in this district don’t hold with heathens much. You sure are full of questions, friend.’
    Kurik shrugged. ‘Best way to learn things is to ask questions,’ he said easily.
    ‘Well, go ask somebody else. I got work to do.’ The fellow’s expression had turned unfriendly. He scowled at the stupid fellow in the shed. ‘You done with the milkin’ yet?’ he demanded.
    The slack-lipped idiot shook his head apprehensively.
    ‘Well get at it. You don’t get no supper till yer done.’
    ‘Thanks for your time, friend,’ Kurik said, remounting.
    The lean man grunted and went back into the house.
    ‘Useful,’ Sparhawk said, as they rode out of the village in the ruddy light of the setting sun. ‘At least there aren’t any Zemochs around.’
    ‘I’m not so sure, Sparhawk,’ Kurik disagreed. ‘I don’t think that fellow was the best source of information in the world. He doesn’t seem to take too much interest in what’s going on around him. Besides, Zemochs aren’t the only ones we have to worry about. That Seeker thing could set just about anybody on us, and we’ve also got to keep an eye out for that Troll. If Sephrenia’s right about that jewel’s making its re-emergence known, the Troll would be one of the first ones to know, wouldn’t he?’
    ‘I don’t know. We’ll have to ask her.’
    ‘I think we’d better assume that he will. If we dig the crown up, we should more or less expect a visit from him.’
    ‘That’s a cheery thought. At least we found out where the mound is located. Let’s go see if we can find Kalten’s camp before it gets dark.’
    Kalten had set up for the night in a copse of beech trees a mile or so back from the lake, and he had built a large fire at the edge of the grove. He was standing beside it when Sparhawk and Kurik rode in. ‘Well?’ he asked.
    ‘We got directions to the mound,’ Sparhawk replied, climbing down from his saddle. ‘It’s not very far. Let’s go talk with Tynian.’
    The heavily armoured Alcione was standing by the fire, talking with Ulath.
    Sparhawk related the information Kurik had obtained from the villager, then looked at Tynian. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked directly.
    ‘I’m fine. Why? Am I looking unwell?’
    ‘Not really. I was just wondering if you felt up to necromancy again. The last time took quite a bit out of you, as I recall.’
    ‘I’m up to it, Sparhawk,’ Tynian assured him, ‘provided you don’t want me to raise whole regiments.’
    ‘No, just one. We need to talk with King Sarak before we dig him up. He’ll probably know what happened to his crown, and I want to be sure he’s not going to object to being taken back to Thalesia. I don’t want an angry ghost trailing along behind us.’
    ‘Truly,’ Tynian agreed