‘The legends say that it’s a very large sapphire carved in the shape of a rose It’s supposed to have the power of the Troll-Gods in it.’

‘Does it?’

‘I wouldn’t know I’ve never seen it. It’s lost, remember?’

‘There are bound to be other objects,’ Sephrenia declared. ‘We live in a world with magic all around us. In all of the aeons since the beginning of time, I’d imagine that the Gods have seen fit to create any number of things with the kind of power we’re looking for.’

‘Why not just make one?’ Kalten asked. ‘Get a group of people together and have them cast a spell on something, some jewel or stone or ring or whatever?’

‘Now I can see why you never became proficient in the secrets, Kalten.’ Sephrenia sighed. ‘You don’t even understand the basic principles. All magic comes from the Gods, not from us. They allow us to borrow if we ask them in the proper fashion – but they won’t let us make the kind of thing we’re looking for in this case. The power that’s instilled in these objects is a part of the power of the Gods themselves, and they don’t sacrifice that sort of thing lightly’

‘Oh,’ the blond man said. ‘I didn’t know that.’

‘You should have. I told you about it when you were fifteen.’

‘I must have forgotten.’

‘About all we can do is start looking,’ Vanion said. ‘I’ll send word to the other preceptors. We’ll have every Church Knight in all four orders working on it.’

‘And I’ll get word to the Styrics in the mountains,’ Sephrenia added. ‘There are many such things known only to Styricum.’

‘Did anything interesting happen in Madel?’ Sparhawk asked Kalten.

‘Not really,’ Kalten replied. ‘We caught a few glimpses of Krager, but always from a distance. By the time we got close to where he’d been, he’d given us the slip. He’s a tricky little weasel, isn’t he?’

Sparhawk nodded. ‘That’s what made me finally realize that he was being used as bait. Could you get any idea of what he was doing?’

‘No. We could never get close enough. He was up to something, though. He was scurrying around Madel like a mouse in a cheese factory’

‘Did Adus drop out of sight?’

‘More or less. Talen and Berit saw him once – when he and Krager rode out of town.’

‘Which way were they going?’ Sparhawk asked the boy

Talen shrugged. ‘They were headed back towards Borrata the last time we saw them,’ he said. ‘They might have changed direction once they got out of sight, though.’

‘The big one had some bandages on his head, Sir Sparhawk,’ Berit reported, ‘and his arm was in a sling.’

Kalten laughed. ‘It seems that you got a bigger piece of him than either one of us realized, Sparhawk,’ he said.

‘I was trying,’ Sparhawk said grimly. ‘Getting rid of Adus is one of my main goals in life.’

The door opened, and Kurik came back in carrying the wooden case containing the swords of the fallen knights.

‘You insist on doing this, Vanion?’ Sephrenia asked.

‘I don’t see that there’s any choice,’ he replied. ‘You have to be fit to move around. I can do my job sitting down – or lying in bed – or dead, probably, if it comes to that.’

The movement was but a faint one of Sephrenia’s eyes. She looked for the briefest instant at Flute, and the little girl gravely nodded her head. Sparhawk was positive that only he had witnessed the exchange; for some reason it troubled him profoundly.

‘Only take the swords one at a time,’ Sephrenia instructed Vanion. ‘The weight is considerable, and you’ll need to give yourself time to get used to it.’

‘I’ve held swords before, Sephrenia.’

‘Not like these, and it’s not the weight of the swords I’m talking about. It’s the weight of all that goes with them.’ She opened the case and took out the sword of Sir Parasim, the young knight whom Adus had killed in Arcium. She took the blade and gravely extended the hilt across her forearm to Vanion.

He rose and took it from her. ‘Correct me if I make any mistakes,’ he said and started to chant in Styric Sephrenia raised her voice with his, though her tone was softer, less certain, and her eyes were filled with doubt. The spell rose to a climax, and Vanion suddenly sagged, his face turning grey ‘God!’ he gasped, almost dropping the sword.

‘Are you all right, dear one?’ Sephrenia asked sharply, reaching out and touching him.

‘Let me get my breath for a minute,’ Vanion said. ‘How can you stand this, Sephrenia?’

‘We do what we must,’ she replied. ‘I feel better already, Vanion. There’s no need for you to take the other two.’

‘Yes, there is. We’re going to lose another of the twelve of us any day now, and his ghost will deliver another sword to you. I’m going to see to it that your hands are free when it comes.’ He straightened. ‘All right,’ he said grimly ‘Give me the next one.’

Chapter 25

Sparhawk found that he was unusually tired that evening. The rigours of what had taken place in Rendor seemed to catch up with him all at once, but despite his weariness, he tossed and turned fitfully on the narrow cot in the cell-like room. The moon was full, and it cast its pale light through the narrow window directly into Sparhawk’s face. He muttered a sour oath and covered his head with his blanket to hide his eyes from the light.

Perhaps he dozed, or perhaps not. He hovered on the verge of sleep for what seemed hours; but, try though he might to slip through that soft door, he could not. He threw off his blanket and sat up.

It was spring, or very nearly. It seemed that the winter had been interminable, but what had he really accomplished? The months had slipped away, and with them Ehlana’s life. Was he really any closer to freeing her from her crystal entombment? In the cold light of the midnight moon, he suddenly came face to face with a chilling thought. Might it not be entirely possible that all of the scheming and the complicated plots of Annias and Martel had been with but a single aim – to delay him, to fill the time Ehlana had left with senseless activity? He had been dashing from crisis to crisis since he had returned to Cimmura. Perhaps the plots of his enemies had not been intended to succeed. Perhaps their only purpose had been delay He felt somehow that he was being manipulated and that whoever was behind it was taking pleasure in his anger and frustration, toying with him with cruel amusement. He lay back again to consider that.