The Ruby Knight

course.’
    ‘We have recently discovered that Queen Ehlana’s illness is not of natural origin, and to cure her, we must resort to extreme measures.’
    ‘You’re speaking too delicately, Sparhawk,’ Ulath growled, removing his Ogre-horned helmet. ‘What my Pandion brother is trying to say, Your Grace, is that Queen Ehlana has been poisoned, and that we’ll have to use magic to bring her back to health.’
    ‘Poisoned?’ Ortzel paled. ‘Surely you do not suspect Primate Annias?’
    ‘Everything points that way, Your Grace,’ Tynian said, pushing back his blue cape. ‘The details are tedious, but we have strong evidence that Annias was behind it all.’
    ‘You must bring these charges before the Hierocracy,’ Ortzel exclaimed. ‘If they are true, this is monstrous.’
    ‘The matter is already in the hands of the Patriarch of Demos, Your Grace,’ Sparhawk assured him. ‘I think we can trust him to lay it before the Hierocracy at the proper time.’
    ‘Dolmant is a good man,’ Ortzel agreed. ‘I’ll abide by his decision in the matter – for the time being, at least.’
    ‘Please be seated, Sir Knights,’ the Baron said. ‘The urgency of this present situation has made me remiss in matters of courtesy. Might I offer you some refreshment?’
    Kalten’s eyes brightened.
    ‘Never mind,’ Sparhawk muttered to him, holding a chair for Sephrenia. She sat, and Flute came over and climbed up into her lap.
    ‘Your daughter, Madame?’ Ortzel surmised.
    ‘No, Your Grace. She’s a foundling – of sorts. I’m fond of her, however.’
    ‘Berit,’ Kurik said, ‘we’re just in the way here. Let’s go to the stables. I want to check over the horses.’ And the two of them left the room.
    ‘Tell me, My Lord,’ Bevier said to Baron Alstrom, ‘what is it that has brought you to the brink of war? Some ancient dispute, perhaps?’
    ‘No, Sir Bevier,’ the baron replied, his face hardening, ‘this is an affair of more recent origin. Perhaps a year ago my only son became friendly with a knight who said he was from Cammoria. I have since discovered that the man is a villain. He encouraged my young and foolish son in the vain hope of obtaining the hand of the daughter of my neighbour, Count Gerrich. The girl seemed amenable, though her father and I have never been friends. Not long after, however, Gerrich announced that he had promised his daughter’s hand to another. My son was enraged. His so-called friend goaded him on in this and proposed a desperate plan: they would abduct the girl, find a priest willing to marry her to my son, and present Gerrich with a number of grandchildren to still his wrath. They scaled the walls of the Count’s castle and crept into the girl’s bedchamber. I have since discovered that my son’s supposed friend had alerted the Count, and Gerrich and his sister’s seven sons sprang from hiding as the two entered. My son, believing that it had been the Count’s daughter who had betrayed him, plunged his dagger into her breast before the Count’s nephews fell upon him with their swords.’ Alstrom paused, his teeth clenched and his eyes brimming.
    ‘My son was obviously in the wrong,’ he admitted, continuing his story, ‘and I would not have pursued the matter, grieved though I was. It was what happened after my son’s death that has set eternal enmity between Gerrich and myself. Not content with merely killing my son, the Count and his sister’s savage brood mutilated his body and contemptuously desposited it at my castle gate. I was outraged, but the Cammorian Knight, whom I still trusted, advised guile. He pled matters of pressing urgency in Cammoria, but promised me the aid of two of his trusted retainers. It was but last week that the two arrived at my door to tell me that the time for my revenge had come. They led my soldiers to the house of the Count’s sister, and there they slaughtered the Count’s seven nephews. I have since discovered that these two underlings inflamed my soldiers, and they took certain liberties with the person of Gerrich’s sister.’
    ‘That’s a delicate way to put it,’ Kalten whispered to Sparhawk.
    ‘Be still,’ Sparhawk whispered back.
    ‘The lady was dispatched – naked, I’m afraid – to her brother’s castle. Reconciliation is now quite impossible. Gerrich has many allies, as do I, and western Lamorkand now hovers on the brink of general war.’
    ‘A melancholy tale, My Lord,’ Sparhawk said sadly.
    ‘The