The Ruby Knight

forest, rising steeply on either side. Sparhawk leaned forward and put his lips close to Flute’s ear. ‘What’s killing the trees?’ he asked.
    ‘Ogres come out at night and gnaw on the bark,’ she said. ‘Eventually the tree dies.’
    ‘I thought Ogres were meat-eaters.’
    ‘Ogres eat anything. Can’t you go any faster?’
    ‘Not through here I can’t. This is a very bad trail. Does it get any better on up ahead?’
    ‘After we go up out of this valley, we’ll come to a flat place in the mountains.’
    ‘A plateau?’
    ‘Whatever you want to call it. There are a few hills, but we can go around those. It’s all covered with grass.’
    ‘We’ll be able to make better time there. Does the plateau stretch all the way to Ghwerig’s cave?’
    ‘Not quite. After we cross that, we’ll have to go up into the rocks.’
    ‘Who brought you all the way up here? You said you’d been here before.’
    ‘I came alone. Somebody who knew the way told me how to get to the cave.’
    ‘Why would you want to?’
    ‘I had something to do there. Do we really have to talk so much? I’m trying to listen for Trolls.’
    ‘Sorry.’
    ‘Hush, Sparhawk.’ She put her finger to his lips.
    It was a day later when they reached the plateau. As Flute had told them, it was a vast, rolling grassland with snow-covered peaks lining the horizon on all sides.
    ‘How long is it going to take us to get across this?’ Sparhawk asked.
    ‘I’m not sure,’ Flute replied. ‘The last time I was here I was on foot. The horses should be able to go much faster.’
    ‘You were up here alone and on foot? With Trolls and Ogres about?’ he asked incredulously.
    ‘I didn’t see any of those. There was a young bear that followed me for a few days, though. I think he was only curious, but I got tired of having him behind me, so I made him go away.’
    Sparhawk decided not to ask her any more questions. The answers were far too disturbing.
    The high grassland seemed interminable. They rode for hours, but the skyline did not appear to change. The sun sank low above the snowy peaks, and they made their camp in a small clump of stunted pines.
    ‘It’s big country up here,’ Kurik said, looking around. He pulled his cloak closer about him. ‘Cold too, once the sun goes down. Now I can see why most Thalesians wear fur.’
    They hobbled the horses to keep them from straying, and built up the fire.
    ‘There’s no real danger here in this meadow,’ Flute assured them. ‘Trolls and Ogres like to stay in the forest. The hunting’s easier for them when they can hide behind trees.’
    The next morning dawned cloudy, and a chilly wind swept down from the mountain peaks, bending the tall grass in long waves. They rode hard that day, and by evening they had reached the foot of the peaks that towered white above them. ‘We can’t make any fire tonight,’ Flute said. ‘Ghwerig may be watching.’
    ‘Are we that close?’ Sparhawk asked.
    ‘You see that ravine just ahead?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Ghwerig’s cave is at the upper end of it.’
    ‘Why didn’t we just go on up there, then?’
    ‘That wouldn’t have been a good idea. You can’t sneak up on a Troll at night. We’ll wait until the sun’s well up tomorrow before we start out. Trolls usually doze in the daytime. They don’t actually ever really sleep, but they’re a little less alert when the sun’s out.’
    ‘You seem to know a great deal about them.’
    ‘It’s not too hard to find things out – if you know the right people to ask. Make Sephrenia some tea and some hot soup. Tomorrow’s likely to be very difficult for her, and she’ll need all her strength.’
    ‘It’s a little hard to make hot soup without a fire.’
    ‘Oh, Sparhawk, I know that. I may be small, but I’m not stupid. Heap up a pile of rocks in front of the tent. I’ll take care of the rest.’
    Grumbling to himself, he did as she directed.
    ‘Get back from it,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to burn you.’
    ‘Burn? How?’
    She began to sing softly, and then she made a brief gesture with one small hand. Sparhawk immediately felt the heat radiating out from his pile of rock.
    ‘That’s a useful spell,’ he said admiringly.
    ‘Start cooking, Sparhawk. I can’t keep the rocks hot all night.’
    It was very strange, Sparhawk thought, as he set Sephrenia’s tea-kettle up against one of the heated rocks. Somehow in the past weeks he had almost begun to stop thinking of Flute as a child. Her