They rode on around the city, passing through open fields and sparse woodlands and keeping about a mile back from the city wall. Cimmura was not an attractive city, Sparhawk decided. The peculiar combination of its location and the prevailing weather seemed to capture the smoke from its thousands of chimneys and to hold it in a continual pall just above the roof tops. That lowering cloud of smoke made the place look perpetually grimy.
They finally reached a thicket about a half-mile from the walls of the chapterhouse. Once again the land was dotted with peasants at work, and the road leading out from the east gate was alive with brightly dressed travellers.
‘Tell her it’s time,’ Sparhawk said to Sephrenia. ‘I’d imagine that a fair number of those people out there are working for Annias.’
‘She knows, Sparhawk. She’s not stupid.’
‘No. Only a little flighty.’
Flute made a face at him and began to play her pipes. It was that same lethargic, almost drowsy tune she had played in Vardenais.
They started across the field towards the few houses clustered outside the chapterhouse. Though he was certain that the people they passed would pay no attention to them, Sparhawk instinctively tensed at each encounter.
‘Relax, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia ordered him crisply ‘You’re making it harder for her’
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘Habit, I guess.’ With some effort he pulled a kind of calm about himself.
A number of workmen were repairing the road that led up to the gates of the fortress.
‘Spies,’ Kurik grunted.
‘How do you know that?’ Sparhawk asked.
‘Look at the way they’re laying the cobblestones, Sparhawk. They haven’t got the faintest idea of what they’re doing.’
‘It does look a bit slipshod, doesn’t it?’ Sparhawk agreed, looking critically at the section of newly laid stone as they rode past the unseeing road gang.
‘Annias must be getting old,’ Kurik said. ‘He never used to be this obvious.’
‘He’s got a lot on his mind, I guess.’
They clattered up the road to the drawbridge and then on across it and into the courtyard, passing the indifferent quartet of armoured knights on guard at the gate.
A young novice was drawing water from the well in the centre of the courtyard, laboriously winding the creaking windlass mounted at the wellmouth. With a final little flourish, Flute took her pipes from her lips.
The novice choked out a startled oath and reached for his sword. The windlass squealed as the bucket plummeted down again.
‘Easy, brother,’ Sparhawk told him, dismounting.
‘How did you get past the gate?’ the novice exclaimed.
‘You wouldn’t believe it,’ Kurik told him, swinging down from his gelding’s back.
‘Forgive me, Sir Sparhawk,’ the novice stammered. ‘You startled me’
‘It’s all right,’ Sparhawk assured him. ‘Has Kalten got back yet?’
‘Yes, my Lord. He and the knights from the other orders arrived some time back.’
‘Good. Do you know where I might find them?’
‘I believe they’re with Lord Vanion in his study’
‘Thank you. Would you see to our horses?’
‘Of course, Sir Sparhawk.’
They entered the chapterhouse and went down the central corridor towards the south end of the building. Then they climbed the narrow flight of stairs to the tower
‘Sir Sparhawk,’ one of the young knights on guard at the top said respectfully, ‘I’ll advise Lord Vanion that you’ve arrived.’
‘Thank you, brother,’ Sparhawk said.
The knight tapped on the door, then opened it. ‘Sir Sparhawk is here, my Lord,’ he reported to Vanion.
‘It’s about time,’ Sparhawk heard Kalten’s voice inside the room.
‘Please go in, Sir Sparhawk,’ the young knight said, stepping aside and bowing.
Vanion sat at the table. Kalten, Bevier, Ulath and Tynian had risen from their seats and come forward to greet Sparhawk and the others. Berit and Talen sat on a bench in the corner.
‘When did you get in?’ Sparhawk asked as Kalten roughly clasped his hand.
‘Early last week,’ the blond man replied. ‘What kept you?’
‘We had a long way to go, Kalten,’ Sparhawk protested. Wordlessly he gripped the hands of Tynian, Ulath, and Bevier. Then he bowed to Vanion. ‘My Lord,’ he said.
‘Sparhawk,’ Vanion nodded.
‘Did you get my messages?’
‘If there were only two, I did.’
‘Good. Then you’re fairly well up-to-date on what’s going on down there’
Vanion, however, was looking closely at Sephrenia. ‘You’re not looking too well, little mother,’ he said.
‘I’ll be all right,’ she said, passing one hand wearily across her eyes.
‘Sit down,’ Kalten said, holding a chair for her.
‘Thank you.’
‘What happened in Dabour, Sparhawk?’ Vanion asked, his eyes intent.
‘We found that physician,’ Sparhawk reported. ‘As it turns out, he did in fact cure some people who’d been poisoned with the same thing Annias gave the Queen.’
‘Thank God!’ Vanion said, letting his breath out explosively
‘Don’t be too quick about that, Vanion,’ Sephrenia told him. ‘We know what the cure is, but we’ve got to find it before we can use it.’
‘I don’t quite follow you.’
‘The poison is extremely potent. The only way to counteract it is through the use of magic.’
‘Did the physician give you the spell he used?’
‘Apparently there’s no spell involved. There are a number of objects in the world that have enormous power. We have to find one of them.’
He frowned. ‘That could take time,’ he said. ‘People usually hide those things to keep them from being stolen.’
‘I know’
‘Are you absolutely certain you’ve identified the right poison?’ Kalten asked Sparhawk.
Sparhawk nodded. ‘I got confirmation from Martel,’ he said.
‘Martel? You actually gave him time to talk before you killed him?’
‘I didn’t kill him. The time wasn’t right.’
‘Any time is right for that, Sparhawk.’
‘I felt that way myself when I first saw him, but Sephrenia persuaded the two of us to put away our swords.’