The Ruby Knight

He went out some way from the tents to watch the sun rise. The sky overhead was clear, and the stars were still out. Despite Sephrenia’s assurances the previous evening, Sparhawk’s mood was sombre. When they had begun, the sense that their cause was just and noble had led him to believe that somehow they would prevail against almost anything. The events of the previous day, however, had proved to him just how wrong he had been about that. He would venture anything to bring his pale young queen back to health, even to the point of throwing his own life into the crucible, but did he have the right to risk his friends?
    ‘What’s the problem?’ He recognized Kurik’s voice without looking around.
    ‘I don’t know, Kurik,’ he admitted. ‘It all feels as if I’m trying to hold sand in my fist, and this plan of ours doesn’t really make much sense, does it? Trying to track down five-hundred-year-old stories is really rather absurd, don’t you think?’
    ‘No, Sparhawk,’ Kurik said, ‘not really. You could run around northern Pelosia or Deira with a spade for the next two hundred years and not even come close to Bhelliom. The farmer was right, you know. Trust the people, My Lord. In many ways, the people are wiser than the nobility – or even the Church, for that matter.’ Kurik coughed uncomfortably. ‘You don’t necessarily have to tell Patriarch Dolmant I said that,’ he amended.
    ‘Your secret is safe, my friend.’ Sparhawk smiled. ‘There’s something we’re going to have to talk about.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘Kalten, Bevier and Tynian are more or less out of action.’
    ‘You know, I believe you’re right.’
    ‘That’s a bad habit, Kurik.’
    ‘Aslade says the same thing.’
    ‘Your wife’s a wise woman. All right. Part of our success in getting around difficulties has been the presence of men in armour. Most people don’t interfere with the Knights of the Church. The trouble is that now there’s only going to be Ulath and me.’
    ‘I can count, Sparhawk. What’s your point?’
    ‘Could you fit into Bevier’s armour?’
    ‘Probably. It might not be very comfortable, but I could adjust the straps a bit. The point, though, is that I won’t do it.’
    ‘What’s the problem? You’ve worn armour on the practice field.’
    ‘That was on the field. Everybody knew who I was, and they knew why I was doing it. This is out in the world, and that’s altogether different.’
    ‘I really don’t see the distinction, Kurik.’
    ‘There are laws about that sort of thing, Sparhawk. Only knights are permitted to wear armour, and I’m not a knight.’
    ‘The difference is very slight.’
    ‘But it’s still a difference.’
    ‘You’re going to make me order you to do this, aren’t you?’
    ‘I wish you wouldn’t.’
    ‘I wish I didn’t have to. I’m not trying to offend your sensibilities, Kurik, but this is an unusual situation. It involves our safety. You’ll wear Bevier’s armour, and I think we can stuff Berit into Kalten’s. He’s worn mine before, and Kalten and I are about the same size.’
    ‘You’re going to insist, then?’
    ‘I don’t really have any choice. We’ve got to get through to Paler without any incidents along the way. I’ve got some injured men, and I don’t want to risk them.’
    ‘I understand the reasons, Sparhawk. I’m not stupid, after all. I don’t like it, but you’re probably right.’
    ‘I’m glad we agree.’
    ‘Don’t get too ecstatic about it. I want it clearly understood that I’m doing this under protest.’
    ‘If there’s ever any trouble about it, I’ll swear to that.’
    ‘That’s assuming you’re still alive,’ Kurik replied sourly. ‘You want me to wake the others?’
    ‘No. Let them sleep. You were right last night. It’s going to take two days to get to Paler. That gives us a little time to play with.’
    ‘You’re very worried about time, aren’t you, Sparhawk?’
    ‘We’ve only got so much of it left,’ Sparhawk replied sombrely. ‘This business of running around listening to old men tell stories is likely to chew up a great deal of it. It’s coming up to the point where another one of the twelve knights is going to die, and he’ll give his sword to Sephrenia. You know how that weakens her.’
    ‘She’s a lot stronger than she looks. She could probably carry as much as you and I put together.’ Kurik glanced back towards the tents. ‘I’ll go and build up the fire and put her tea-kettle on to