The Ruby Knight

‘You’re safe now.’
    ‘There’s no time,’ the man gasped. ‘There’s something of vital urgency I must tell you.’
    ‘What’s your name, friend?’ Kalten asked him.
    ‘I am Arbele, a minstrel by profession,’ the stranger replied. ‘I write poetry and compose the songs I sing for the entertainment of lords and ladies. I have just come from the house of that monster, Count Ghasek.’
    ‘That doesn’t sound too promising,’ Ulath muttered.
    Talen brought the water, and Arbele drank greedily.
    ‘Take his horse down to the lake,’ Sparhawk told the boy. ‘Don’t let him drink too much at first.’
    ‘Right,’ Talen said.
    ‘Why do you call the count a monster?’ Sparhawk asked then.
    ‘What else would you call a man who seals up a fair damsel in a tower?’
    ‘Who is this fair damsel?’ Bevier asked, his voice strangely intent.
    ‘His own sister!’ Arbele choked in a tone of outrage. ‘A lady incapable of wrongdoing.’
    ‘Did he happen to tell you why?’ Tynian asked.
    ‘He rambled out some nonsense, accusing her of foul misdeeds. I refused to listen to him.’
    ‘Are you sure about this?’ Kalten’s tone was sceptical. ‘Did you ever see the lady?’
    ‘Well, no, not really, but the count’s servants told me about her. They said that she’s the greatest beauty in the district, and that the count sealed her in that tower when he returned from a journey. He drove me and all the servants from the castle, and now he proposes to keep his sister in that tower for the rest of her life.’
    ‘Monstrous!’ Bevier exclaimed, his eyes afire with indignation.
    Sephrenia had been watching the minstrel very closely. ‘Sparhawk,’ she said urgently, motioning him away from the fire. The two of them walked off, and Kurik followed them.
    ‘What is it?’ Sparhawk asked once they were out of earshot.
    ‘Don’t touch him,’ she replied, ‘and warn the others to avoid him as well.’
    ‘I don’t quite follow.’
    ‘Something’s wrong with him, Sparhawk,’ Kurik said. ‘His eyes aren’t right, and he’s talking a little too fast.’
    ‘He’s infected with something,’ Sephrenia said.
    ‘A disease?’ Sparhawk shuddered back from the word. In a world where plagues were rampant, that word rang in human imagination like the clap of doom.
    ‘Not in the sense you mean,’ she replied. ‘This is not a physical disease. Something has contaminated his mind – something evil.’
    ‘The Seeker?’
    ‘I don’t think so. The symptoms aren’t the same. I’ve got a strong feeling that he might be contagious, so keep everybody away from him.’
    ‘He’s talking,’ Kurik said, ‘and he doesn’t have that wooden face. I think you’re right, Sephrenia. I don’t believe it’s the Seeker. It’s something else.’
    ‘He’s very dangerous just now,’ she said.
    ‘Not for long,’ Kurik said bleakly, reaching for his mace.
    ‘Oh, Kurik,’ she said in a resigned tone of voice, ‘stop that. What would Aslade say if she found out you were assaulting helpless travellers?’
    ‘We really don’t have to tell her, Sephrenia.’
    ‘When will the day come when Elenes stop thinking with their weapons?’ she said in exasperation. Then she said something in Styric which Sparhawk did not recognize.
    ‘I beg your pardon?’ he said.
    ‘Never mind.’
    ‘There’s a problem, though,’ Kurik said seriously. ‘If the minstrel’s infectious, then Bevier’s got it too. He touched him when he fell off his horse.’
    ‘I’ll keep an eye on Bevier,’ she said. ‘Perhaps his armour protected him. I’ll know better in a little while.’
    ‘And Talen?’ Sparhawk asked. ‘Did he touch the minstrel when he brought him that pail of water?’
    ‘I don’t think so,’ she said.
    ‘Could you cure Bevier if he’s caught it?’ Kurik asked.
    ‘I don’t even know what it is yet. All I know is that something has taken possession of that minstrel. Let’s go back and try to keep the others away from him.’
    ‘I charge you, Knights of the Church,’ the minstrel was saying in strident tones, ‘ride forthwith to the house of the wicked count. Punish him for his cruelty, and free his beautiful sister from her undeserved punishment.’
    ‘Yes!’ Bevier said fervently.
    Sparhawk looked quickly at Sephrenia, and she gravely nodded to advise him that Bevier had been infected. ‘Stay with him, Bevier,’ he told the Arcian. ‘The rest of you, come with me.’
    They walked a short