The Ruby Knight

well. We don’t want them converging on us.’
    Ulath was talking seriously to Berit as they rode out at a trot. ‘Keep your axe under control at all times,’ he advised. ‘Don’t ever make a swing so wide that you can’t recover instantly.’
    ‘I think I see,’ Berit replied seriously.
    ‘An axe can be just as delicate a weapon as a sword – if you know what you’re doing,’ Ulath said. ‘Pay attention, boy. Your life might depend on this.’
    ‘I thought the whole idea was to hit somebody with it as hard as you can.’
    ‘There’s no real need of that,’ Ulath replied, ‘- not if you keep it sharp. When you’re cracking a walnut with a hammer, you hit it just hard enough to break the shell. You don’t want to smash it into little bits. It’s the same with an axe. If you hit somebody too hard with one, there’s a fair chance that the blade’s going to hang up in the body somewhere, and that leaves you at a definite disadvantage when you have to face your next opponent.’
    ‘I didn’t know an axe was that complicated a weapon,’ Kalten said quietly to Sparhawk.
    ‘I think it’s a part of the Thalesian religion,’ Sparhawk replied. He looked at Berit, whose face was rapt as he listened to Ulath’s instruction.
    ‘I hate to say this, but we’ve probably lost a good swordsman there. Berit’s very fond of that axe, and Ulath’s encouraging him.’
    Late in the day the lake-shore began to curve towards the north-east. Bevier looked around, getting his bearings. ‘I think we’d better stop here, Sparhawk,’ he advised. ‘As closely as I can tell, this is approximately where the Thalesians came up against the Zemochs.’
    ‘All right,’ Sparhawk agreed. ‘I guess the rest is up to you, Tynian.’
    ‘First thing in the morning,’ the Alcione Knight replied.
    ‘Why not now?’ Kalten asked him.
    ‘It’s going to start getting dark soon,’ Tynian said, his face bleak. ‘I don’t raise ghosts at night.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘Just because I know how to do it doesn’t mean that I like it. I want lots of daylight around me when they start to appear. These men were killed in battle, so they won’t be very pretty to look at. I’d rather not have any of them coming up to me in the dark.’
    Sparhawk and the other knights scouted the general area while Kurik, Berit and Talen set up camp. The rain was slackening slightly as they returned.
    ‘Anything?’ Kurik asked, looking out from under the sheet of canvas he had erected at an angle over the fire.
    ‘There’s some smoke a few miles off to the south,’ Kalten replied, swinging down from his horse. ‘We didn’t see anybody, though.’
    ‘We’ll still have to post a watch,’ Sparhawk said. ‘If Bevier knows that this is the general area where the Thalesians were fighting, we can be fairly sure the Zemochs will too, and the Seeker probably knows what we’re looking for, so it’s certain to have people in this area.’
    They were all unusually quiet that evening as they sat under Kurik’s makeshift canvas cover that kept the rain from quenching their fire. This place had been their goal in the weeks since they had left Cimmura, and very soon they would find out if the trip had served any real purpose. Sparhawk in particular was anxious and worried. He definitely wanted to get on with it, but he respected Tynian’s feeling in the matter. ‘Is the process very complicated?’ he asked the broad-shouldered Deiran. ‘Necromancy, I mean?’
    ‘It’s not your average spell, if that’s what you mean,’ Tynian replied. ‘The incantation’s fairly long, and you have to draw diagrams on the ground to protect yourself. Sometimes the dead don’t want to be awakened, and they can do some fairly nasty things to you if they’re really upset.’
    ‘How many of them do you plan to raise at a time?’ Kalten asked him.
    ‘One,’ Tynian said very firmly. ‘I don’t want a whole brigade of them coming at me all at once. It might take a little longer, but it’s a great deal safer.’
    ‘You’re the expert, I suppose.’
    The morning dawned wet and dreary. The rain had returned during the night. The sodden earth had already received more water than it could hold, and rain-dimpled puddles stood everywhere.
    ‘A perfect day for raising the dead,’ Kalten observed sourly. ‘It just wouldn’t seem right if we did it in the sunshine.’
    ‘Well,’ Tynian said, rising to his feet, ‘I suppose we might as well get