The Ruby Knight

quite understand, My Lady,’ Occuda said.
    ‘You don’t have to. Just do it. We don’t have much time.’ She murmured briefly to herself and then reached up to touch his shaggy brow. She had to stand on her tiptoes. ‘Why are you people all so tall?’ she complained. She kept her fingers lightly on Occuda’s forehead for a moment and then let out an explosive breath. ‘Just as I thought,’ she said exultantly. ‘It had to be there. Occuda, where’s the count right now?’
    ‘I believe he’s still in that central room, lady. He usually reads for most of the night.’
    ‘Good.’ She looked at the bed and snapped her fingers. ‘Bevier, get up.’
    The Arcian rose stiffly, his eyes blank.
    ‘Kurik,’ she said, ‘you and Occuda help him. Don’t let him fall down. Flute, you go back to bed. I don’t want you to see this.’
    The little girl nodded.
    ‘Come along, gentlemen,’ Sephrenia said crisply. ‘We haven’t much time left.’
    ‘Just exactly what are you doing?’ Sparhawk asked as he followed her down the hall. For a small person she moved very fast.
    ‘There isn’t time to explain,’ she said. ‘We need the count’s permission to go to the cellar – and his presence, I’m afraid.’
    ‘The cellar?’ Sparhawk was baffled.
    ‘Don’t ask foolish questions, Sparhawk.’ She stopped and looked at him critically. ‘I told you to keep your hands on that spear,’ she scolded him. ‘Now go back to your room and get it.’
    He threw his hands helplessly in the air and turned around.
    ‘Run, Sparhawk!’ she shouted after him.
    He caught up with them just as they entered the doorway that opened out onto the stairs leading down into the sunken room near the centre of the castle. Count Ghasek still sat hunched over his book in the flickering light of his guttering candle. His fire had burned down to embers, and the wind from the storm outside howled fitfully in the chimney.
    ‘You’re going to ruin your eyes, My Lord,’ Sephrenia told him. ‘Put aside the book. We have things to do.’
    He stared at her in astonishment.
    ‘I need to ask a favour of you, My Lord.’
    ‘A favour? Of course, Madame.’
    ‘Don’t be too quick to agree, Count Ghasek – not until you know what I’m going to ask you. There’s a room in the cellar of your house. I need to visit it with Sir Bevier here, and I’ll need to have you accompany us. If we move quickly enough, I can cure Bevier and rid this house of its curse.’
    Ghasek stared at Sparhawk, his face totally baffled.
    ‘I’d advise doing as she says, My Lord,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘You’ll do it in the end, anyway, and it’s a lot less embarrassing if you just agree gracefully.’
    ‘Is she like this often?’ the count asked, rising to his feet.
    ‘Frequently.’
    ‘Time is passing, gentlemen,’ Sephrenia said, her foot tapping impatiently on the floor.
    ‘Come with me, then,’ the count said, giving up. He led them up the stairs and into the cobwebby corridor. ‘The entrance to the cellar is this way.’ He pointed down a narrow side hall and then led the way again. He took a large iron key from his doublet and unlocked a narrow door. ‘We’ll need light,’ he said.
    Kurik took a torch down from its ring and handed it to him.
    The count lifted the torch and started down a long flight of narrow stone stairs. Occuda and Kurik supported the somnolent Bevier to keep him from falling as they descended. At the foot of the stairs, the count turned to his left. ‘One of my ancestors considered himself to be quite a connoisseur of fine wines,’ he said, pointing at dusty casks and bottles lying on their sides on wooden racks back in the dimness as they passed. ‘I have little taste for wine myself, so I seldom come down here. It was only by chance that I happened to send Occuda down here one night, and he came upon that dreadful room.’
    ‘This is not going to be very pleasant for you, My Lord,’ Sephrenia warned him. ‘Perhaps you might want to wait outside the room.’
    ‘No, Madame,’ he said. ‘If you can endure it, I can as well. It’s only a room now. What happened in it is in the past.’
    ‘It’s the past which I intend to resurrect, My Lord.’
    He looked at her sharply.
    ‘Sephrenia is an adept in the secrets,’ Sparhawk explained. ‘She can do many things.’
    ‘I have heard of such people,’ the count admitted, ‘but there are few Styrics in Pelosia, so I’ve never seen those arts