Authors: David Eddings
‘Send him in,’ Sparhawk told her.
The door opened, and Talen came into the circle of
light of their single candle. ‘It’s just like old times, Sparhawk.’
‘How so?’
‘Stragen and I were coming back from our meeting with the thieves, and we saw Krager in the street. Can you believe that? It was good to see him again. I was actually starting to miss him.’
‘We simply don’t have the time, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia said calmly.
‘I’ll
take
time, little mother,’ he replied bleakly. ‘It shouldn’t take me too long. I’ll stay here with Stragen, and we’ll chase him down. Krager’s not a Styric, so he shouldn’t be hard to find. We can catch up with you after we’ve caught him and wrung every drop of information out of him. I’ll squeeze him so hard that his hair will bleed.’
‘And who’s going to see to mother’s safety while you’re amusing yourself here, father?’ Danae asked him.
‘She’s surrounded by an army, Danae.’
‘
You’re
her champion, father. Is that just some hollow title you can lay aside when something more amusing than protecting her life comes up?’
Sparhawk stared helplessly at his daughter. Then he slammed his fist against the wall in frustration.
‘You’ll break your hand,’ Sephrenia murmured.
They were in the kitchen. Sparhawk had risen early and gone looking for his tutor to advise her of Talen’s discovery and of his own plans to make Krager answer for a long, long list of transgressions. Danae’s presence was really not all that surprising.
‘Why didn’t you rack him to death when you had your hands on him in Chyrellos, dear one?’ Sephrenia asked calmly.
‘
Sephrenia!
’ Sparhawk was more startled by the cold-blooded way she said it than by the suggestion itself.
‘Well, you should have, Sparhawk. Then he wouldn’t
keep coming back to haunt us like this. You know what Ulath always says. Never leave a live enemy behind you.’
‘You’re starting to sound like an Elene, little mother.’
‘Are you trying to be insulting?’
‘Did banging your hand like that bring you to your senses, father?’ Danae asked.
He sighed regretfully. ‘You’re right, of course,’ he admitted. ‘I guess I got carried away. Krager’s continued existence offends me for some reason. He’s a loose end with bits and pieces of Martel still hanging from him. I’d sort of like to tidy that part of my life up.’
‘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.’
‘Reasonable men can usually find reasons to get along with each other.’
‘Elenes set great store in reason, do they not?’
‘It’s one of our quirks, I suppose.’
‘I’ll explain something about one of our customs to you, Sparhawk-Knight. I may not say it too clearly, because I am clumsy in your language. I’ll rely on you to explain it to the others.’
‘I’ll do my very best, Atan Engessa.’
‘Atana Mirtai will go through the Rite of Passage while she is in Atan.’
‘I was fairly sure she would.’
‘It is the custom of our people for the child to relive the memories of childhood before the rite, and it is important for her family to be present while that is done. I have spoken with Atana Mirtai, and her childhood was not happy. Many of her memories will be painful, and she will need those who love her near while she sets them aside. Will you tell Ehlana-Queen and the others what is happening?’
‘I will, Engessa-Atan.’
‘The Atana will come to you when she is ready. It is her right to choose those who will support her. Some of her choices may surprise you, but among my people, it is considered an honour to be chosen.’
‘We will look upon it so, Engessa-Atan.’
Sparhawk briefly advised the others that Mirtai would be calling a meeting at a time of her own choosing, but he did not go into too much detail, since he himself did not know exactly what to expect.
That evening the Atan giantess moved quietly through the camp, her manner uncharacteristically diffident. She did not, as they might have expected, peremptorily command them to attend, but rather she
asked, one might almost say pleaded, and her eyes were very vulnerable. Most of her choices were the ones Sparhawk would have expected. They were the people who had been closest to Mirtai during her most recent enslavement. There were some surprises, however. She invited a couple of Pandions Sparhawk had not even known she was acquainted with as well as a couple of Kring’s Peloi and two Atan girls from Engessa’s legions. She also asked Emban and Oscagne to hear her story.
They gathered around a large fire that evening, and Engessa spoke briefly to them before Mirtai began. ‘It is customary among our people for one to put childhood away before entering adulthood,’ he told them gravely. ‘Atana Mirtai will participate in the Rite of Passage soon, and she has asked us to be with her as she sets the past aside.’ He paused, and his tone became reflective. ‘This child is not like other Atan children,’ he told them. ‘For most, the childhood that is put away is simple and much like that of all others of our race. Atana Mirtai, however, returns from slavery. She has survived that and has returned to us. Her childhood has been longer than most and has contained things not usual – painful things. We will listen with love – even though we do not always understand.’ He turned to Mirtai. ‘It might be well to begin with the place where you were born, my daughter,’ he suggested.
‘Yes, Father-Atan,’ she replied politely. Since Engessa had assumed the role of parent when they had first met, Mirtai’s response was traditionally respectful. She spoke in a subdued voice that reflected none of her customary assertiveness. Sparhawk had the distinct impression that they were suddenly seeing a different Mirtai – a gentle, rather sensitive girl who had been hiding behind a brusque exterior.
‘I was born in a village lying to the west of Dirgis,’ she began, ‘near the headwaters of the River Sarna.’ She
spoke in Elenic, since, with the exception of Oscagne, Engessa and the two Atan girls, none of her loved ones spoke Tamul. ‘We lived deep in the mountains. My mother and father made much of that.’ She smiled faintly. ‘All Atans believe that they’re special, but we mountain Atans believe that we’re especially special. We’re obliged to be the very best at everything we do, since we’re so obviously superior to everybody else.’ She gave them all a rather sly glance. Mirtai was very observant, and her offhand remark tweaked the collective noses of Styric and Elene alike. ‘I spent my earliest years in the forests and mountains. I walked earlier than most and ran almost as soon as I could walk. My father was very proud of me, and he often said that I was born running. As is proper, I tested myself often. By the time I was five, I could run for half a day, and at six, from dawn until sunset.
‘The children of our village customarily entered training very late – usually when we were nearly eight – because the training-camp in our district was very far away, and our parents did not want to be completely separated from us while we were still babies. Mountain Atans are very emotional. It’s our one failing.’
‘Were you happy, Atana?’ Engessa asked her gently.
‘Very happy, Father-Atan,’ she replied. ‘My parents loved me, and they were very proud of me. Ours was a small village with only a few children. I was the best, and my parents’ friends all made much of me.’
She paused, and her eyes filled with tears. ‘And then the Arjuni slavers came. They were armed with bows. They were only interested in the children, so they killed all of the adults. My mother was killed with the first arrow.’
Her voice broke at that point, and she lowered her head for a moment. When she raised her face, the tears were streaming down her cheeks.
Gravely, the Princess Danae went to her and held out her arms. Without apparently even thinking about it, Mirtai lifted the little girl up into her lap. Danae touched her tear-wet cheek and then softly kissed her.
‘I didn’t see my father die,’ Mirtai continued. Her voice was choked, but then it rang out, and her tear-filled eyes hardened. ‘I killed the first Arjuni who tried to capture me. They’re ignorant people who can’t seem to realise that children can be armed too. The Arjuni was holding a sword in his right hand, and he took my arm with his left. My dagger was very sharp, and it went in smoothly when I stabbed him under the arm with it. The blood came out of his mouth like a fountain. He fell back, and I stabbed him again, up under his breast-bone this time. I could feel his heart quivering on the point of my knife. I twisted the blade, and he died.’