Churchmen before pressing a siege.’
‘Unfortunately, Sir Bevier,’ Alstrom replied, ‘this is not Arcium. This is Lamorkand, and there’s no such thing as a truce here.’
‘Any ideas?’ Sparhawk asked Sephrenia.
‘A few, perhaps,’ she said. ‘Let me have a try at your excellent Elene logic. First, the use of main force to break out of the castle is quite out of the question, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘And, as you pointed out, a truce would probably not be honoured?’
‘I certainly wouldn’t want to gamble His Grace’s life or yours on a truce.’
‘Then there’s the possibility of stealth. I don’t think that would work either, do you?’
‘Too risky,’ Kalten agreed. ‘The castle is surrounded, and the soldiers will be on the alert for people trying to sneak out.’
‘Subterfuge of some kind?’ she asked.
‘Not under these circumstances,’ Ulath said. ‘The troops surrounding the castle are armed with crossbows. We’d never get close enough to tell them stories.’
‘That leaves only the arts of Styricum, doesn’t it?’
Ortzel’s face stiffened. ‘I will not be a party to the use of heathen sorcery,’ he declared.
‘I was afraid he might look at it that way,’ Kalten murmured to Sparhawk.
‘I’ll try to reason with him in the morning,’ Sparhawk replied under his breath. He looked at Baron Alstrom. ‘It’s late, My Lord,’ he said, ‘and we’re all tired. Some sleep might clear our heads and hint at other solutions.’
‘Well said, Sir Sparhawk,’ Alstrom agreed. ‘My servants will convey you and your companions to safe quarters, and we shall consider this matter further on the morrow.’
They were led through the bleak halls of Alstrom’s castle to a wing that, while comfortable, showed little signs of use. Supper was brought to them in their rooms, and Sparhawk and Kalten removed their armour. After they had eaten, they sat talking quietly in the chamber they shared.
‘I could have told you that Ortzel would feel the way he does about magic. The Churchmen here in Lamorkand feel almost as strongly about it as Rendors.’
‘If it’d been Dolmant, we might have talked our way around him,’ Sparhawk agreed glumly.
‘Dolmant’s more cosmopolitan,’ Kalten said. ‘He grew up next door to the Pandion Mother-house, and he knows a great deal more about the secrets than he lets on.’
There was a light rap on the door. Sparhawk rose and answered it. It was Talen. ‘Sephrenia wants to see you,’ he told the big knight.
‘All right. Go to bed, Kalten. You’re still looking a bit worse for wear. Lead the way, Talen.’
The boy took Sparhawk to the end of the corridor and tapped on the door.
‘Come in, Talen,’ Sephrenia replied.
‘How did you know it was me?’ Talen asked curiously as he opened the door.
‘There are ways,’ she said mysteriously. The small Styric woman was gently brushing Flute’s long black hair. The child had a dreamy look on her small face, and she was humming to herself contentedly. Sparhawk was startled. It was the first vocal sound he had ever heard her utter. ‘If she can hum, why is it she can’t talk?’ he asked.
‘Whatever gave you the idea she can’t talk?’ Sephrenia continued her brushing.
‘She never has.’
‘What does that have to do with it?’
‘What did you want to see me about?’
‘It’s going to take something rather spectacular to get us out of here,’ she replied, ‘and I may need your help and that of the others to manage it.’
‘All you have to do is ask. Have you got any ideas?’
‘A few. Our first problem is Ortzel, though. If he bows his neck on this, we’ll never get him out of the castle.’
‘Suppose I just hit him on the head before we leave and tie him across his saddle until we’re safely away?’
‘Sparhawk,’ she chided him.
‘It was a thought,’ he shrugged. ‘What about Flute here?’
‘What about her?’
‘She made those soldiers on
‘Unfortunately, Sir Bevier,’ Alstrom replied, ‘this is not Arcium. This is Lamorkand, and there’s no such thing as a truce here.’
‘Any ideas?’ Sparhawk asked Sephrenia.
‘A few, perhaps,’ she said. ‘Let me have a try at your excellent Elene logic. First, the use of main force to break out of the castle is quite out of the question, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘And, as you pointed out, a truce would probably not be honoured?’
‘I certainly wouldn’t want to gamble His Grace’s life or yours on a truce.’
‘Then there’s the possibility of stealth. I don’t think that would work either, do you?’
‘Too risky,’ Kalten agreed. ‘The castle is surrounded, and the soldiers will be on the alert for people trying to sneak out.’
‘Subterfuge of some kind?’ she asked.
‘Not under these circumstances,’ Ulath said. ‘The troops surrounding the castle are armed with crossbows. We’d never get close enough to tell them stories.’
‘That leaves only the arts of Styricum, doesn’t it?’
Ortzel’s face stiffened. ‘I will not be a party to the use of heathen sorcery,’ he declared.
‘I was afraid he might look at it that way,’ Kalten murmured to Sparhawk.
‘I’ll try to reason with him in the morning,’ Sparhawk replied under his breath. He looked at Baron Alstrom. ‘It’s late, My Lord,’ he said, ‘and we’re all tired. Some sleep might clear our heads and hint at other solutions.’
‘Well said, Sir Sparhawk,’ Alstrom agreed. ‘My servants will convey you and your companions to safe quarters, and we shall consider this matter further on the morrow.’
They were led through the bleak halls of Alstrom’s castle to a wing that, while comfortable, showed little signs of use. Supper was brought to them in their rooms, and Sparhawk and Kalten removed their armour. After they had eaten, they sat talking quietly in the chamber they shared.
‘I could have told you that Ortzel would feel the way he does about magic. The Churchmen here in Lamorkand feel almost as strongly about it as Rendors.’
‘If it’d been Dolmant, we might have talked our way around him,’ Sparhawk agreed glumly.
‘Dolmant’s more cosmopolitan,’ Kalten said. ‘He grew up next door to the Pandion Mother-house, and he knows a great deal more about the secrets than he lets on.’
There was a light rap on the door. Sparhawk rose and answered it. It was Talen. ‘Sephrenia wants to see you,’ he told the big knight.
‘All right. Go to bed, Kalten. You’re still looking a bit worse for wear. Lead the way, Talen.’
The boy took Sparhawk to the end of the corridor and tapped on the door.
‘Come in, Talen,’ Sephrenia replied.
‘How did you know it was me?’ Talen asked curiously as he opened the door.
‘There are ways,’ she said mysteriously. The small Styric woman was gently brushing Flute’s long black hair. The child had a dreamy look on her small face, and she was humming to herself contentedly. Sparhawk was startled. It was the first vocal sound he had ever heard her utter. ‘If she can hum, why is it she can’t talk?’ he asked.
‘Whatever gave you the idea she can’t talk?’ Sephrenia continued her brushing.
‘She never has.’
‘What does that have to do with it?’
‘What did you want to see me about?’
‘It’s going to take something rather spectacular to get us out of here,’ she replied, ‘and I may need your help and that of the others to manage it.’
‘All you have to do is ask. Have you got any ideas?’
‘A few. Our first problem is Ortzel, though. If he bows his neck on this, we’ll never get him out of the castle.’
‘Suppose I just hit him on the head before we leave and tie him across his saddle until we’re safely away?’
‘Sparhawk,’ she chided him.
‘It was a thought,’ he shrugged. ‘What about Flute here?’
‘What about her?’
‘She made those soldiers on
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