The Ruby Knight

I can do in recompense for my son’s behaviour. I wish I could think of some appropriate form of discipline to salvage him.’
    ‘I’ve always got good results with a leather belt, My Lord,’ Kurik suggested.
    The nobleman laughed wryly. ‘That might not be a bad idea, Sir Knight,’ he agreed.
    They rode on through a lovely afternoon, and as the sun was just going down, they reached the ‘summer house’ which appeared to be only slightly less opulent than a mansion. The nobleman gave instructions to the household servants and then remounted his horse. ‘I’d gladly stay, Sir Knight,’ he said to Kurik, ‘but I think I’d better get back home before my wife breaks every dish in the house. I’ll find a comfortable cloister for her, and live out my life in peace.’
    ‘I quite understand, My Lord,’ Kurik replied. ‘Good luck.’
    ‘Godspeed, Sir Knight.’ And the noble turned and rode back the way they had come.
    ‘Kurik,’ Bevier said gravely as they entered the marble-floored foyer of the house, ‘you did honour to my armour back there. I’d have had my sword through that young fellow after his second remark.’
    Kurik grinned at him. ‘It was much more fun this way, Sir Bevier.’
    The Pelosian noble’s summer house was even more splendid on the inside than it had appeared from the exterior. Rare woods, exquisitely carved, panelled the walls. The floors and fireplaces were all of marble, and the furnishings were covered with the finest brocade. The serving staff was efficient and unobtrusive, and they saw to every need.
    Sparhawk and his friends dined splendidly in a dining room only slightly smaller than a grand ballroom. ‘Now this is what I call living,’ Kalten sighed contentedly. ‘Sparhawk, why is it that we can’t have a bit more luxury in our lives?’
    ‘We’re Knights of the Church,’ Sparhawk reminded him. ‘Poverty toughens us up.’
    ‘But do we have to have so much of it?’
    ‘How are you feeling?’ Sephrenia asked Bevier.
    ‘Much better, thanks,’ the Arcian replied. ‘I haven’t coughed up any blood since this morning. I think I’ll be up to a canter tomorrow, Sparhawk. This leisurely stroll is costing us time.’
    ‘Let’s go easy for one more day,’ Sparhawk said. ‘According to my map, the country beyond the city of Venne is a little rugged and very underpopulated. It’s ideal for ambushes, and we’re being followed. I want you and Kalten and Tynian fit to defend yourselves.’
    ‘Berit,’ Kurik said.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Would you do me a favour before we leave here?’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘First thing in the morning, take Talen out into the courtyard and search him – thoroughly. The noble who owns this place was very hospitable, and I don’t want to offend him.’
    ‘What makes you think I’d steal anything?’ Talen objected.
    ‘What makes you think I wouldn’t? It’s just a precaution. There are a great number of small, valuable things in this house. Some of them might just accidentally find their way into your pockets.’
    The beds in the house were down-filled, and they were deep and comfortable. They rose at dawn and ate a splendid breakfast. Then they thanked the servants, mounted their waiting horses and rode on out. The new-risen sun was golden, and larks whirled and sang overhead. Flute, sitting in the wagon, accompanied them on her pipes. Sephrenia seemed stronger, but at Sparhawk’s insistence, she still rode in the wagon.
    It was shortly before noon when a group of perhaps fifty fierce-looking men came galloping over a nearby hill. They were booted and dressed in leather, and their heads were all shaved.
    ‘Tribesmen from the eastern marches,’ warned Tynian, who had been in Pelosia before. ‘Be very careful, Sparhawk. These are reckless men.’
    The tribesmen swooped down the hill with superb horsemanship. They had savage-looking sabres at their belts, carried short lances and wore round shields on their left arms. At a curt signal from their leader, most of them reined in so sharply that their horses’ rumps skidded on the grass. With five cohorts, the leader, a lean man with narrow eyes and a scarred scalp, came forward. With ostentatious display, the advancing tribesmen moved their horses sideways, the proud stallions prancing in perfect unison. Then, plunging their lances into the earth, the warriors drew their flashing sabres with a grand flourish.
    ‘No!’ Tynian said sharply as Sparhawk and the others instinctively