‘Can you really make somebody’s hair bleed?’ his daughter asked him.
‘I’m not really sure. After I finally catch up with Krager, I’ll let you know.’ He nursed his sore knuckles. ‘I guess we really should get on to Matherion. Sephrenia, just how healthy is Vanion, really?’
‘Would you like a personal testimonial?’ she asked him archly.
‘That’s none of my business, little mother. All I’m really asking is whether or not he’s fit to travel.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she smiled. ‘More than fit.’
‘Good. I’ll be delighted to hand the rewards and satisfactions of leadership back to him.’
‘No. Absolutely not.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Vanion carried that burden for too many years. That’s what made him sick in the first place. You might as well accept the fact that you’re the Pandion Preceptor now, Sparhawk. He’ll advise you, certainly, but you get to make all the decisions. I’m not going to let you kill him.’
‘Then you’ll both be able to come with us to Matherion?’
‘Of course they will, Sparhawk,’ Danae told him. ‘We decided that a long time ago.’
‘It would have been nice if somebody’d thought to tell me about it.’
‘Why? You don’t have to know everything, father. Just do as we tell you to do.’
‘What on earth ever possessed you to take up with this one, Sephrenia?’ Sparhawk asked. ‘Wasn’t there any other God available – one of the Troll-Gods maybe?’
‘Sparhawk!’ Danae gasped.
He grinned at her.
‘Zalasta will be coming with us as well,’ Sephrenia said. ‘He’s been summoned back to Matherion anyway, and we really need his help.’
Sparhawk frowned. ‘That might cause some problems, little mother. Ehlana doesn’t trust him.’
‘That’s absolutely absurd, Sparhawk. I’ve known Zalasta all my life. I honestly think he’d die if I asked him to.’
‘Has mother given you any reason for these suspicions?’ Danae asked intently.
‘Hate at first sight, maybe,’ Sparhawk shrugged. ‘His reputation as the wisest man in the world probably didn’t help matters. She was probably predisposed to dislike him even before she met him.’
‘And of course he’s Styric.’ There was a brittle edge to Sephrenia’s voice.
‘You know Ehlana better than that, Sephrenia. I think it’s time we got you out of Sarsos. Some of the local opinions are starting to cloud your thinking.’
‘Really?’ Her tone was dangerous.
‘It’s very easy to dismiss any sort of animosity as simple prejudice, and that’s the worst form of sloppy thinking. There are other reasons for disliking people too, you know. Do you remember Sir Antas?’
She nodded.
‘I absolutely hated that man.’
‘Antas? I thought he was your friend.’
‘I couldn’t stand him. My hands started to shake every time he came near me. Would you believe I was actually happy when Martel killed him?’
‘Sparhawk!’
‘You don’t need to share that with Vanion, little mother. I’m not very proud of it. What I’m trying to say is that people sometimes hate us for personal reasons that have nothing at all to do with our race or class or anything else. Ehlana probably dislikes Zalasta just because she dislikes him. Maybe she doesn’t like the way his eyebrows jut out. You should always consider the simplest explanation before you go looking for something exotic.’
‘Is there anything else about me you’d like to change, Sir Knight?’
He looked her up and down gravely. ‘You’re really very small, you know. Have you ever considered growing just a bit?’
She almost retorted, but then she suddenly laughed. ‘You can be the most disarming man in the world, Sparhawk.’
‘I know. That’s why people love me so much.’
‘Now do you see why I’m so fond of these great Elene oafs?’ Sephrenia said lightly to her sister.
‘Of course,’ Aphrael replied. ‘It’s because they’re like big, clumsy puppies.’ Her dark eyes grew serious. ‘Not too many people know who I really am,’ she mused. ‘You two and Vanion are about the only ones who recognise me in this incarnation. I think it might be a good idea if we kept it that way. Our enemy – whoever he is – might make a slip or two if he doesn’t know I’m around.’
‘You’ll want to tell Zalasta though, won’t you?’ Sephrenia asked her.
‘Not yet, I don’t think. He doesn’t really need to know, so let’s just keep it to ourselves. When you trust someone, you’re putting yourself in the position of also trusting everybody he trusts, and sometimes that includes people you don’t even know. I’d rather not do that just yet.’
‘She’s growing very skilled at logic,’ Sparhawk observed.
‘I know,’ Sephrenia sighed. ‘She’s fallen in with evil companions, I’m afraid.’
They left Sarsos later that morning, riding out through the east gate to be joined by the Church Knights, the Peloi and Engessa’s two legions of Atans. The day was fair and warm, and the sky intensely blue. The newly-risen sun stood above the range of jagged, snow-capped peaks lying to the east. The peaks reared upward, and their soaring flanks were wrapped in the deep blue shadows of morning. The country lying ahead looked wild and rugged. Engessa was striding along beside Sparhawk, and his bronze face had a somewhat softer expression than it normally wore. He gestured toward the peaks. ‘Atan, Sparhawk-Knight,’ he said, ‘my homeland.’
‘A significant-looking country, Atan Engessa,’ Sparhawk approved. ‘How long have you been away?’
‘Fifteen years.’
‘That’s a long exile.’
‘It is indeed, Sparhawk-Knight.’ Engessa glanced back at the carriage rolling along behind them. Zalasta had supplanted Stragen, and Mirtai, her face serene, sat holding Danae on her lap. ‘We know each other, do we not, Sparhawk-Knight?’ the Atan said.
‘I’d say so,’ Sparhawk agreed. ‘Our people have many different customs, but we seem to have stepped around most of those.’
Engessa smiled slightly. ‘You conducted yourself well during our discussions concerning Atana Mirtai and Domi Kring.’