The Ruby Knight

wrong course provided him with firm ground for a new beginning. Sparhawk accepted his losses stoically and went on towards the lightening sky.
    The house and outbuildings of the farmer, Wat, lay in a little dell. It was a slovenly-looking sort of place surrounded by a log palisade that leaned dispiritedly away from the prevailing wind. The house, half-log and half-stone, had a poorly thatched roof and looked definitely run-down. The barn was even worse, appearing to continue to stand more out of habit than from any structural integrity. A broken-down cart sat in the muddy yard, and rusting tools lay wherever their owner had discarded them. Wet, dishevelled chickens scratched in the mud without much hope, and a scrawny black and white pig rooted near the doorstep of the house.
    ‘Not very neat, is he?’ Talen observed, as he and Sparhawk rode in.
    ‘I saw the cellar you were living in back in Cimmura,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘It wasn’t exactly what you’d call tidy.’
    ‘But at least it was out of sight. This fellow’s messy in public.’
    A man with dislocated eyes and unkempt, dirty hair shambled out of the house. His clothing appeared to be tied together with bits of twine, and he was absently scratching at his stomach. ‘What’s yer business here?’ he asked in an unfriendly tone. He levelled a kick at the pig. ‘Get outta there, Sophie,’ he said.
    ‘We were talking with an old man back there in the village,’ Sparhawk replied, pointing with his thumb back over his shoulder. ‘He was a white-haired fellow with a wobbly neck who seemed to know a lot of old stories.’
    ‘You must mean old Farsh,’ the farmer said.
    ‘Never did catch his name,’ Sparhawk said easily. ‘We met him in the tap-room at the inn.’
    ‘That’s Farsh, all right. He likes to stay close to the beer. What’s this got to do with me?’
    ‘He said you were fond of the old stories too – the ones that have to do with the battle that went on here some five hundred or so years ago.’
    The wall-eyed man’s face brightened. ‘Oh, so that’s it,’ he said. ‘Me’n Farsh always used to swap those old tales. Why don’t you an’ yer boy come inside, yer worship? I ha’nt had a chance t’ talk about the good ol’ days fer a long time now.’
    ‘Why, that’s mighty obliging of you, neighbour,’ Sparhawk said, swinging down from Faran’s back. ‘Come along, Talen.’
    ‘Lemme put yer mounts in the barn,’ the itchy fellow offered.
    Faran looked at the rickety struture and shuddered.
    ‘Thanks all the same, neighbour,’ Sparhawk said, ‘but the rain’s letting up, and the breeze ought to dry their coats. We’ll just put them out in your meadow, if that’s all right.’
    ‘Somebody might come along an’ try to steal ’em.’
    ‘Not this horse,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘This is not the sort of horse people want to steal.’
    ‘Yer the one as gets to walk if yer wrong,’ the wall-eyed man shrugged, turning to open the door to his house.
    The interior of the house was if anything more untidy than the yard had been. The remains of several meals sat on the table, and dirty clothes lay in heaps in the corners. ‘The name’s Wat,’ the wall-eyed man identified himself. He flopped down in a chair. ‘Sit yerselves,’ he invited. Then he squinted at Talen. ‘Say, you was the young fella as bought my ol’ wagon.’
    ‘Yes,’ Talen replied, a bit nervously.
    ‘She run all right fer you? I mean, none of the wheels fell off or nothin’?’
    ‘It worked just fine,’ Talen said, with some relief.
    ‘Glad t’hear it. Now, which particular stories was you interested in?’
    ‘What we’re really looking for, Wat,’ Sparhawk began, ‘is any information you might be able to give us about what happened to the old King of Thalesia during the battle. A friend of ours is distantly related to him, and the family wants his bones brought back to Thalesia for proper burial.’
    ‘Never heard nothin’ about no Thalesian king,’ Wat admitted, ‘but that don’t mean all that much. This was a big battle, and there was Thalesians fightin’ with the Zemochs from the south end of the lake all the way up into Pelosia. Y’see now, what happened was that when the Thalesians started to land on the north coast up there, Zemoch patrols they seen ’em, an’ Otha, he started to send some good-sized forces up there to try to keep ’em from gettin’ to the main battlefield. At first, the Thalesians come down in small