The Ruby Knight

slightly. ‘Now that you mention it, though,’ he said, returning to the previous topic, ‘there has been something a little unusual happening around here for the last few months.’
    ‘Oh?’ Tynian said carefully.
    ‘We’ve been seeing bands of roving Styrics. The countryside’s crawling with them. They don’t usually move around that much, do they?’
    ‘Not really,’ Sephrenia replied. ‘We’re not a nomadic people.’
    ‘I thought you might be Styric, lady – judging from your looks and your clothes. We’ve got a Styric village not far from here. They’re nice enough people, I suppose, but they keep pretty much to themselves.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘I do think you Styrics could avoid a lot of the trouble that breaks out from time to time if you’d just mingle with your neighbours a little more.’
    ‘It’s not our way,’ Sephrenia murmured. ‘I don’t believe Elenes and Styrics are supposed to mingle.’
    ‘There could be something to what you say,’ he agreed.
    ‘Are these Styrics doing anything in particular?’ Sparhawk asked, keeping his voice neutral.
    ‘Asking questions is about all. They seem to be very curious about the Zemoch war for some reason.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Enjoy your supper,’ he said and went back to the kitchen.
    ‘We have a problem,’ Sephrenia said gravely. ‘Western Styrics do not wander about the countryside. Our Gods prefer to have us stay close to their altars.’
    ‘Zemochs then?’ Bevier surmised.
    ‘Almost certainly.’
    ‘When I was in Lamorkand, there were reports of Zemochs infiltrating the country east of Motera,’ Kalten remembered. ‘They were doing the same thing – wandering about the country asking questions, mostly having to do with folk-lore.’
    ‘Azash seems to have a plan that closely resembles ours,’ Sephrenia said. ‘He’s trying to gather information that will lead him to Bhelliom.’
    ‘It’s a race then,’ Kalten said.
    ‘I’m afraid so, and he’s got Zemochs out there ahead of us.’
    ‘And church soldiers behind,’ Ulath added. ‘You’ve gone and got us surrounded, Sparhawk. Could that Seeker be controlling those wandering Zemochs the same way it’s controlling the soldiers?’ the big Thalesian asked Sephrenia. ‘We could be riding into an ambush if it is, you know.’
    ‘I’m not entirely certain,’ she replied. ‘I’ve heard a great deal about Otha’s Seekers, but I’ve never actually seen one in action.’
    ‘You didn’t have time to be very specific this morning,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Exactly how is that thing controlling Annias’s soldiers?’
    ‘It’s venomous,’ she said. ‘Its bite paralyses the will of its victims – or of those it wants to dominate.’
    ‘I’ll make a point of not letting it bite me then,’ Kalten said.
    ‘You may not be able to stop it,’ she told him. ‘That green glow is hypnotic. That makes it easier for it to get close enough to inject the venom.’
    ‘How fast can it fly?’ Tynian asked.
    ‘It doesn’t fly at this stage of its development,’ she replied. ‘Its wings don’t mature until it becomes an adult. Besides, it has to be on the ground to follow the scent of the one it’s trying to catch. Normally, it travels on horseback, and since the horse is controlled in the same way people are, the Seeker simply rides the horse to death and then finds another. It can cover a great deal of ground that way.’
    ‘What does it eat?’ Kurik asked. ‘Maybe we can set a trap for it.’
    ‘It feeds primarily on humans,’ she told him.
    ‘That would make baiting a trap a little difficult,’ he admitted.
    They all went to bed directly after supper, but it seemed to Sparhawk that his head had no sooner touched the pillow than Kurik was shaking him awake.
    ‘It’s about midnight,’ the squire said.
    ‘All right,’ Sparhawk said wearily, sitting up in bed.
    ‘I’ll wake the others,’ Kurik said, ‘and then Berit and I’ll go saddle the horses.’
    After he had dressed, Sparhawk went downstairs to have a word with the sleepy innkeeper. ‘Tell me, neighbour,’ he said, ‘is there by any chance a monastery hereabouts?’
    The innkeeper scratched his head. ‘I think there’s one near the village of Verine,’ he replied. ‘That’s about five leagues east of here.’
    ‘Thanks, neighbour,’ Sparhawk said. He looked around. ‘You’ve got a nice, comfortable inn here,’ he said, ‘and your wife keeps clean beds and sets a