The Ruby Knight

unskilled with their weapons, and they were on foot. It was all over in a few minutes.
    ‘Nicely done, SSSir Knightsss,’ a chillingly metallic voice said sardonically from the shadows back under the trees. Then the robed and hooded Seeker rode out into the morning sunlight. ‘But no matter,’ it continued. ‘I know where ye are now.’
    Sparhawk handed his lance to Kurik and drew Aldreas’s spear out from under his saddle skirt. ‘And we know where you are as well, Seeker,’ he said in an ominously quiet voice.
    ‘Do not be foolisssh, SSSir SSSparhawk,’ it hissed. ‘Thou art no match for me.’
    ‘Why don’t we try it and find out?’
    The hooded figure’s hidden face began to glow green. Then the light flickered and faded. ‘Thou hassst the ringsss!’ it hissed, seeming much less sure of itself now.
    ‘I thought you already knew that.’
    Then Sephrenia joined them.
    ‘It hasss been quite sssome time, SSSephrenia,’ the thing said in its hissing voice.
    ‘Not nearly long enough to suit me,’ she replied coldly.
    ‘I will ssspare thy life if thou wilt fall down and worssship me.’
    ‘No, Azash. Never. I will remain faithful to my Goddess.’
    Sparhawk stared at her and then at the Seeker in astonishment.
    ‘Thinkessst thou that Aphrael canssst protect thee if I decide that thy life ssservesss no further purpossse?’
    ‘You’ve decided that before without much noticeable effect. I will still serve Aphrael.’
    ‘Asss thou ssseessst fit, SSSephrenia.’ Sparhawk moved Faran forwards at a walk, sliding his ringed hand up the shaft of the spear until it rested on the metal shank. Once again he felt that enormous surge of power. ‘The game isss almossst played out, and itsss conclusssion isss foregone. We will meet once again, SSSephrenia, and for the lassst time.’ Then the hooded creature wheeled its horse and fled from Sparhawk’s menacing approach.

The Troll Cave



Chapter 18

    ‘Was that really Azash?’ Kalten asked in awe.
    ‘His voice,’ Sephrenia replied.
    ‘Does He really talk like that? All that hissing?’
    ‘Not really. The Seeker’s mouth-parts distort things.’
    ‘I gather that you’ve met Him before,’ Tynian said, shifting the shoulder plates of his bulky armour.
    ‘Once,’ she said shortly, ‘a very long time ago.’ Sparhawk got the distinct impression that she didn’t really want to talk about it. ‘We may as well go back to the mound,’ she added. ‘Let’s get what we came for and leave before the Seeker comes back with reinforcements.’
    They turned their horses and rode back along the winding lane. The sun had fully risen by now, but Sparhawk nonetheless felt cold. The encounter with the Elder God, even though by proxy, had chilled his blood and seemed to have dulled even the sun.
    When they reached the mound, Tynian took his coil of rope and laboriously led the way up the steep side. Again he laid out the peculiar pattern on the ground.
    ‘Are you sure you won’t raise one of the king’s retainers by mistake?’ Kalten asked him.
    Tynian shook his head. ‘I’ll call Sarak by name.’ He began the incantation, and concluded it by clapping his hands sharply together.
    At first nothing seemed to happen, and then the ghost of the long dead King Sarak began to emerge from the mound. His chain-mail armour was archaic and showed huge rents in it from sword and axe. His shield had been battered, and his ancient sword was nicked and scarred. He was enormous, but he wore no crown. ‘Who art thou?’ the ghost demanded in a hollow voice.
    ‘I am Tynian, Your Majesty, an Alcione Knight from Deira.’
    King Sarak stared sternly at him with hollow eyes. ‘This is unseemly, Sir Tynian. Return me at once to the place where I sleep, lest I grow wroth.’
    ‘Pray forgive me, Your Majesty,’ Tynian apologized. ‘We would not have disturbed thy rest but for a matter of desperate urgency.’
    ‘Nothing hath sufficient urgency to concern the dead.’
    Sparhawk stepped forward. ‘My name is Sparhawk, Your Majesty,’ he said.
    ‘A Pandion, judging from thine armour.’
    ‘Yes, Your Majesty. The Queen of Elenia is gravely ill, and only Bhelliom can heal her. We have come to entreat thee to permit us to use the jewel to restore her health. We will return it to thy grave when we have completed our task.’
    ‘Return it or keep it, Sir Sparhawk,’ the ghost said indifferently. ‘Thou shalt not find it in my grave, however.’
    Sparhawk felt as if he had