The Ruby Knight

arguments and your kisses at the same time.’
    ‘He’s such a nice boy,’ she said delightedly to the others.
    ‘We rather feel the same way about him ourselves,’ Ulath said blandly, ‘and we have some plans for him.’
    ‘You, however,’ she said critically to the Genidian Knight, ‘are most definitely not a nice boy.’
    ‘I know,’ he admitted, unruffled, ‘and you have no idea how much that disappointed my mother – and a number of other ladies from time to time as well.’
    She gave him a dark look and stalked away, muttering to herself in Styric. Sparhawk recognized some of the words, and he wondered if she really knew what they meant.
    As had become his custom, Wargun asked Sparhawk to ride beside him the following morning as they trekked down the long, rocky slope from the foothills of the Deiran mountains towards the coast. ‘I should really get out more often,’ the king of Thalesia confided. ‘After almost three weeks coming from Agnak, I should be nearly ready to fall out of my saddle, but I feel as if we’ve been on the road for only a few days.’
    ‘Perhaps it was the mountains,’ Sparhawk suggested carefully. ‘Mountain air is always invigorating.’
    ‘Maybe that’s it,’ Wargun agreed.
    ‘Have you given any more thought to the discussion we had a while back, Your Majesty?’ Sparhawk asked cautiously.
    ‘I’ve had a lot on my mind, Sparhawk. I appreciate your personal concern about your queen, but from a political standpoint the important thing now is to crush this Rendorish invasion. Then the Preceptors of the militant orders will be able to return to Chyrellos and block the Primate of Cimmura. If Annias fails to gain the Archprelacy, Lycheas the bastard won’t have any chance of ascending the throne of Elenia. I realize that it’s a hard choice, but politics is a hard game.’
    A little later, when Wargun was conferring with his troop commander, Sparhawk relayed the gist of their conversation to his companions.
    ‘He’s not any more reasonable when he’s sober, is he?’ Kalten said.
    ‘From his own standpoint, he’s right, though,’ Tynian observed. ‘The politics of the situation dictate that we do everything we can to get all the Preceptors back to Chyrellos before Cluvonus dies. I doubt that he cares much one way or the other about Ehlana. There’s one other possibility, though. We’re in Deira now, and Obler’s the king here. He’s a very wise old man. If we explain the situation to him, he might overrule Wargun.’
    ‘I don’t think I’d care to hang Ehlana’s life on that slim a possibility,’ Sparhawk said. He turned to rejoin Wargun.
    Despite Flute’s assurances concerning the actual elapsed time their journey had consumed, Sparhawk was still impatient. The apparent slow pace nagged at him. While he could intellectually accept what she said, he could not come to grips with it emotionally. Twenty days is twenty days to one’s senses, and Sparhawk’s senses were strung wire-taut just now. He began to have dark thoughts. Things had been going wrong so consistently that seeming premonitions tugged at his mind. He began to think about the forthcoming encounter with Ghwerig with a great deal less certainty about the outcome.
    At around noon they reached Acie, the capital city of the kingdom of Deira. The Deiran army was encamped around the city, and their camp was bustling with activity as they prepared for the march south.
    Wargun had been drinking again, but he looked around with satisfaction. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘They’re almost ready. Come along, Sparhawk, and bring your friends. Let’s go talk to Obler.’
    As they rode through the narrow, cobbled streets of Acie, Talen pulled his horse in beside Sparhawk’s. ‘I’m going to drop behind a ways,’ he said very quietly. ‘I want to look around. Getting away in the open countryside’s very hard. This is a town, though, and there are always lots of places to hide in towns. King Wargun’s not going to miss me. He hardly knows I’m along. If I can find us a good hiding place, maybe we can slip away to it and stay there until the army moves out. Then we can make a run for Thalesia.’
    ‘Just be very careful.’
    ‘Naturally.’
    A few streets farther on, Sephrenia reined in sharply and pulled her white palfrey off to the side of the street. She and Flute quickly dismounted and went to the entrance of a narrow alley to greet an aged Styric with a long, snowy beard who wore an