The Ruby Knight (35 page)

‘Don't be absurd, Kurik,' Tynian said with a broad grin. ‘Congratulations to you both.'

The other knights gathered about the husky squire and his larcenous son, clapping them on the shoulders and adding their congratulations to Tynian's.

Talen looked around at them, his eyes suddenly very wide and filled with tears at his sudden acknowledgement. Then he fled to Sephrenia, fell to his knees, buried his face in her lap and wept.

Flute smiled.

It was that same peculiarly drowsy melody Flute had played on the docks at Vardenais and again outside the chapterhouse in Cimmura.

‘What's she doing now?' Talen whispered to Sparhawk as they all crouched behind the balustrade of the wide porch at the front of King Obler's palace.

‘She's putting Wargun's sentries to sleep,' Sparhawk replied. There was no point in extended explanations. ‘They'll ignore us as we pass them.' Sparhawk wore his mail-shirt and his traveller's cloak.

‘Are you sure about that?' Talen sounded dubious.

‘I've seen it work a few times before.'

Flute stood up and walked to the wide staircase leading down to the courtyard. Still holding her pipes in one hand, she motioned for them to follow with the other.

‘Let's go,' Sparhawk said, rising to his feet.

‘Sparhawk,' Talen hissed, ‘you're right out in plain sight.'

‘It's all right, Talen. They won't pay any attention to us.'

‘You mean they can't see us?'

‘They can see us,' Sephrenia told the boy, ‘at least with their eyes, but our presence doesn't mean anything to them.'

Sparhawk led them to the stairs, and they followed Flute on down into the yard.

One of the Thalesian soldiers was posted at the foot of the stairs, and he gave them no more than a glance as they passed, his eyes dull and uninterested.

‘This is very hard on my nerves, you know,' Talen whispered.

‘You don't have to whisper, Talen,' Sephrenia told him.

‘They can't hear us either?'

‘They can hear us all right, but our voices don't register on them.'

‘You wouldn't mind if I got ready to run anyhow, would you?'

‘It's not really necessary.'

‘I'll do it all the same.'

‘Relax, Talen,' Sephrenia said. ‘You're making it harder for Flute.'

They went into the stables, saddled their horses and led them out into the courtyard as Flute continued to play her pipes. Then they walked out through the gate past King Obler's indifferent sentries and King Wargun's patrol in the street outside the palace.

‘Which way?' Kurik asked his son.

‘That alley just down the street.'

‘Is this place very far?'

‘About half-way across town. Meland doesn't like to get too close to the palace because the streets around here are patrolled.'

‘Meland?'

‘Our host. He controls all the thieves and beggars here in Acie.'

‘Is he dependable?'

‘Of course not, Kurik. He's a thief. He won't betray us though. I asked for thieves' sanctuary. He's obliged to take us in and hide us from anybody who might come looking for us. If he'd refused, he'd have had to answer to Platime at the next meeting of the thieves' council in Chyrellos.'

‘There's a whole world out there that we don't know anything about,' Kurik said to Sparhawk.

‘I've noticed,' Sparhawk replied.

The boy led them through the crooked streets of Acie to a shabby section not too far from the city gates. ‘Stay here,' he said when they reached a seedy-looking tavern. He went inside and emerged a moment later with a ferret-like man. ‘He's going to take care of our horses.'

‘Watch out for this one, neighbour,' Sparhawk warned the fellow as he handed him Faran's reins. ‘He's playful. Faran, behave yourself.'

Faran flicked his ears irritably as Sparhawk carefully pulled the spear of Aldreas out from under his saddle-skirt.

Talen led them into the tavern. It was lighted by smoky tallow candles and had long, scarred tables flanked by rickety-looking benches. There were a number of rough-looking men sitting at the tables. None of them paid any particular attention to Sparhawk and his friends, though their eyes were busy. Talen went to a stairway at the back. ‘It's up here,' he said, pointing up the stairs.

The loft at the top of the stairs was very large, and it looked oddly familiar to Sparhawk. It was sparsely furnished and there were straw pallets on the floor along the walls. It seemed somehow very similar to Platime's cellar back in Cimmura.

Meland was a thin man with an evil-looking scar running down his left cheek. He was sitting at a table with a sheet of paper and an ink-pot in front of him. There was a heap of jewellery near his left hand, and he seemed to be cataloguing the pieces.

‘Meland,' Talen said as they approached the table, ‘these are the friends I told you about.'

‘I thought you said there would be ten of you.' Meland had a nasal, unpleasant voice.

‘The plans have changed. This is Sparhawk. He's the one who's more or less in charge.'

Meland grunted. ‘How long do you plan to be here?' he asked Sparhawk shortly.

‘If I can find a ship, only until tomorrow morning.'

‘You shouldn't have any trouble finding a ship. There are ships from all over western Eosia down at the harbour, Thalesian, Arcian, Elenian and even a few from Cammoria.'

‘Are the city gates open at night?'

‘Not usually, but there's that army camped outside the walls. The soldiers are going in and out of town, so the gates are open.' Meland looked critically at the knight. ‘If you're going down to the harbour, you'd better not wear that mail – or the sword. Talen says that you'd prefer not to be noticed. The people down there would remember someone dressed the way you are. There are some clothes hanging on those pegs over there. Find something that fits.' Meland's tone was abrupt.

‘What's the best way to get down to the harbour?'

‘Go out of the north gate. There's a wagon track that leads down to the water. It branches off the main road on the left about a half-mile out of town.'

‘Thank you, neighbour,' Sparhawk said.

Meland grunted and went back to his catalogue.

‘Kurik and I are going to go down to the harbour to see about a ship,' Sparhawk told Sephrenia. ‘You'd better stay here with the children.'

‘As you wish,' she said.

Sparhawk found a somewhat shabby blue doublet hanging on one of the pegs that looked as if it might fit. He took off his mail-shirt and sword and put it on. Then he pulled on his cloak again.

‘Where are all of your people?' Talen was asking Meland.

‘It's night-time,' Meland replied. ‘They're out working – or at least they'd better be.'

Sparhawk and Kurik went back downstairs to the tavern.

‘You want me to get our horses?' Kurik asked.

‘No. Let's walk. People pay attention to mounted men.'

‘All right.'

They went out through the city gate and on along the main road until they came to the wagon road Meland had mentioned. Then they walked on down to the harbour.

‘Shabby-looking sort of place, isn't it?' Sparhawk noted, looking around at the settlement surrounding the harbour.

‘Waterfronts usually are,' Kurik said. ‘Let's ask a few questions.' He accosted a passer-by who appeared to be a sea-going man. ‘We be lookin' for a ship as is bound for Thalesia,' he said, reverting to the sailor-language he had used in Venne. ‘Tell me, mate, could y' maybe tell us if there be a tavern hereabouts where the ship-captains gather?'

‘Try the Bell and Anchor,' the sailor replied. ‘It's that way a couple of streets – right near the water.'

‘Thanks, mate.'

Sparhawk and Kurik walked down towards the long wharves jutting out into the dark, garbage-strewn waters of the Gulf of Acie. Kurik suddenly stopped. ‘Sparhawk,' he said. ‘doesn't there seem to be something familiar about that ship out at the end of this wharf?'

‘She does seem to have a familiar rake to her masts, doesn't she?' Sparhawk agreed. ‘Let's go and take a closer look.'

They walked a ways out on the wharf. ‘She's Cammorian,' Kurik advised.

‘How can you tell?'

‘By the rigging and the slant of her masts.'

‘You don't think -' Then Sparhawk broke off, looking
incredulously at the vessel's name painted on her bow. ‘Well, I'll be -' he said. ‘That's Captain Sorgi's ship. What's
he
doing all the way up here?'

‘Why don't we see if we can find him and ask him? If it's really Sorgi and not just somebody who bought his ship from him, this could solve our problem.'

‘Provided he plans to sail in the right direction. Let's go find the Bell and Anchor.'

‘Do you remember all the details of that story you told Sorgi?'

‘Enough to get by, I think.'

The Bell and Anchor was a tidy, sedate tavern, as befitted a place frequented by ship-captains. The taverns visited by common sailors tended to be rowdier and usually showed evidence of hard use. Sparhawk and Kurik entered and stood in the doorway, looking around. ‘Over there,' Kurik said, pointing at a husky man with silver-shot curly hair drinking with a group of substantial-looking men at a table in the corner. ‘It's Sorgi, all right.'

Sparhawk looked at the man who had conveyed them from Madel in Cammoria to Cippria in Rendor and nodded his agreement. ‘Let's drift on over there,' he said. ‘It might be best if he saw us first.' They went across the room, doing their best to appear to be only casually looking around.

‘Why, strike me blind if it isn't Master Cluff!' Sorgi exclaimed. ‘What are you doing up here in Deira? I thought you were going to stay down in Rendor until all those cousins got tired of looking for you.'

‘Why, I believe it's Captain Sorgi,' Sparhawk said in mock astonishment to Kurik.

‘Join us, Master Cluff,' Sorgi invited expansively. ‘Bring your man as well.'

‘You're very kind, Captain,' Sparhawk murmured, taking a chair at the seamen's table.

‘What happened to you, my friend?' Sorgi asked.

Sparhawk put on a mournful expression. ‘Somehow the cousins tracked me down,' he said. ‘I was lucky enough to see one of them in a street in Cippria before he saw me, and I bolted. I've been on the run ever since.'

Sorgi laughed. ‘Master Cluff here has a bit of a problem,' he told his companions. ‘He made the mistake of paying court to an heiress before he got a look at her face. The lady turned out to be remarkably ugly, and he ran away from her screaming.'

‘Well, I didn't exactly scream, Captain,' Sparhawk said. ‘I'll admit that my hair stood on end for a week or so, though.'

‘Anyway,' Sorgi continued, grinning broadly, ‘as it turns out, the lady has a multitude of cousins, and they've been pursuing poor Master Cluff for months now. If they catch him, they're going to drag him back and force him to marry her.'

‘I think I'd rather kill myself first,' Sparhawk said in a mournful tone of voice. ‘But what are you doing this far north, Captain? I thought you plied the Arcian Strait and the Inner Sea.'

‘I happened to be in the port of Zenga on the south coast of Cammoria,' Sorgi explained, ‘and I ran across the opportunity to buy a cargo of satins and brocade. There's no market for that sort of merchandise in Rendor. They all wear those ugly black robes, you know. The best market for Cammorian fabrics is in Thalesia. You wouldn't think so, considering the climate, but Thalesian ladies are passionate for satins and brocades. I stand to make a tidy profit on the cargo.'

Sparhawk felt a sudden surge of elation. ‘You're going to Thalesia then?' he said. ‘Might you have room for some passengers?'

‘Do you want to go to Thalesia, Master Cluff?' Sorgi asked with some surprise.

‘I want to go
anywhere
, Captain Sorgi,' Sparhawk told him in a desperate-sounding voice. ‘I've got a group of those cousins no more than two days behind me. If I can get to Thalesia, maybe I can go up and hide in the mountains.'

‘I'd be careful, my friend,' one of the other captains advised. ‘There are robbers up in the mountains of Thalesia – not to mention the Trolls.'

‘I can outrun robbers, and Trolls can't be any uglier than the lady in question,' Sparhawk said, feigning a shudder. ‘What do you say, Captain Sorgi,' he pleaded. ‘Will you help me out of my predicament again?'

‘Same price?' Sorgi asked shrewdly.

‘Anything,' Sparhawk said in apparent desperation.

‘Done then, Master Cluff. My ship is at the end of the third wharf down from here. We sail for Emsat with the morning tide.'

‘I'll be there, Captain Sorgi,' Sparhawk promised. ‘Now, if you'll excuse us, my man and I have to go and pack a few things.' He rose to his feet and extended his hand to the seaman. ‘You've saved me again, Captain,' he said with genuine gratitude. Then he and Kurik quietly left the tavern.

Kurik was frowning as they went back out into the street. ‘Do you get the feeling that somebody may be tampering with things?' he asked.

‘How do you mean?'

‘Isn't it peculiar that we just happened to run across Sorgi again – the one man we can usually count on to help us? And isn't it even more peculiar that he just happens to be going to Thalesia – the one place we really want to go?'

‘I think your imagination's running away with you,
Kurik. You heard him. It's perfectly logical that he should be here.'

‘But at just the right time for us to run across him?'

That was a somewhat more troubling question. ‘We can ask Flute about it when we get back up to the city,' he said.

‘You think she might be responsible?'

‘Not really, but she's the only one I know of who might have been able to arrange something like this – although I doubt if even
she
could have managed it.'

There was, however, no chance to speak with Flute when they returned to the loft above the seedy tavern, because a familiar figure sat across the table from Meland. Large and grossly bearded and wearing a nondescript cloak, Platime was busily haggling. ‘Sparhawk!' The huge man roared his greeting.