The Ruby Knight

sighed to Sparhawk. ‘Do you think we really look that ridiculous to the common people?’
    ‘Probably.’
    Kurik and Berit cut lances from a nearby yew-grove and affixed steel points to them.
    ‘Pennons?’ Kurik asked.
    ‘What do you think?’ Sparhawk asked Tynian.
    ‘It couldn’t hurt. Let’s try to look as impressive as we can, I suppose.’
    They mounted with some difficulty, adjusted their shields and moved their pennon-flagged lances into positions where they were prominently displayed and rode out. Faran immediately began to prance. ‘Oh, stop that,’ Sparhawk told him disgustedly.
    They crossed into Lamorkand not much past noon. The border guards looked suspicious, but automatically gave way to the Knights of the Church dressed in their formal armour and wearing expressions of inexorable resolve.
    The Lamork city of Kadach stood on the far side of a river. There was a bridge, but Sparhawk decided against going through that bleak, ugly place. Instead, he checked his map and turned north. ‘The river branches upstream,’ he told the others. ‘We’ll be able to ford it up there. We’re going more or less in that direction anyway, and towns are filled with people who just might want to talk to alien strangers asking questions about us.’
    They rode on north to the series of small streams that fed into the main channel. It was when they were crossing one of these shallow streams that afternoon that they saw a large body of Lamork warriors on the far bank.
    ‘Spread out,’ Sparhawk commanded tersely. ‘Sephrenia, take Talen and Flute to the rear.’
    ‘You think they might belong to the Seeker?’ Kalten asked, moving his hand up the shaft of his lance.
    ‘We’ll find out in a minute. Don’t do anything rash, but be ready for trouble.’
    The leader of the group of warriors was a burly fellow wearing a chain-coat, a steel helmet with a protruding, pig-faced visor and stout leather boots. He advanced into the stream alone and raised his visor to show that he had no hostile intentions.
    ‘I think he’s all right, Sparhawk,’ Bevier said quietly. ‘He doesn’t have that blank look on his face that the men we killed back in Elenia had.’
    ‘Well met, Sir Knights,’ the Lamork said.
    Sparhawk nudged Faran forward a bit through the swirling current. ‘Well met indeed, My Lord,’ he replied.
    ‘This is a fortunate encounter,’ the Lamork continued. ‘It seemed me that we might have ridden even so far as Elenia ere we had encountered Church Knights.’
    ‘And what is your business with the Knights of the Church, My Lord?’ Sparhawk asked politely.
    ‘We require a service of you, Sir Knight – a service that bears directly on the well-being of the Church.’
    ‘We live but to serve her,’ Sparhawk said, struggling to conceal his irritation. ‘Speak further concerning this necessary service.’
    ‘As all the world knows, the Patriarch of the city of Kadach is the paramount choice for the Archprelate’s throne in Chyrellos,’ the helmeted Lamork stated.
    ‘I hadn’t heard that,’ Kalten said quietly from behind.
    ‘Hush,’ Sparhawk muttered over his shoulder. ‘Say on, My Lord,’ he said to the Lamork.
    ‘Misfortunately, civil turmoil mars western Lamorkand presently,’ the Lamork continued.
    ‘I like “misfortunately”,’ Tynian murmured to Kalten. ‘It’s got a nice ring to it.’
    ‘ Will you two be quiet?’ Sparhawk snapped. Then he looked back at the man in the chain-coat. ‘Rumour has advised us of this discord, My Lord,’ he replied. ‘But surely this is a local matter, and does not involve the Church.’
    ‘I will speak to the point, Sir Knight. The Patriarch Ortzel of Kadach has been forced by the turmoil I but recently mentioned to seek shelter in the stronghold of his brother, the Baron Alstrom, whom I have the honour to serve. Rude civil discord rears its head here in Lamorkand, and we anticipate with some certainty that the foes of My Lord Alstrom will shortly besiege his fortress.’
    ‘We are but five, My Lord,’ Sparhawk pointed out. ‘Surely our aid would be of little use in a protracted siege.’
    ‘Ah, no, Sir Knight,’ the Lamork said with a disdainful smile. ‘We can sustain ourselves and my Lord Alstrom’s castle without the aid of the invincible Knights of the Church. My Lord Alstrom’s castle is impregnable, and his foes may freely dash themselves to pieces against its walls for a generation or more without causing us alarm. As