‘We need those pillars for landmarks anyway,’ Talen added, ‘and they’re a lot brighter when the sun first comes up.’

‘That’s if that bright spot we’ve been following really comes from those pillars,’ Kalten said dubiously.

‘They got us here, didn’t they? This has to be what Ogerajin called “the Plain of Bones”, doesn’t it? I had my own doubts at first. Ogerajin was raving so much of the time that I was sure that he’d garbled at least some of the directions, but he hasn’t led us astray yet.’

‘We still haven’t seen the city, Talen,’ Kalten reminded him, ‘so I’d sort of hold off on composing the letter of thanks.’

‘I’ve got all the money I’ll ever need, Orden,’ Krager said expansively, leaning back in his chair and looking out through the window at the buildings and the harbor of the port city of Delo. He took another drink of wine.

‘I wouldn’t go around announcing that, Krager,’ the burly Orden advised. ‘Particularly not here on the waterfront.’

‘I’ve hired some bodyguards, Orden. Can you ask around and find out if there’s a fast ship leaving for Zenga in Cammoria in the next week or so?’

‘Why would anybody want to go to Zenga?’

‘I grew up there, and I’m homesick,’ Krager replied with a shrug. ‘Besides, I’d sort of like to grind a few faces – all the people who said that I’d come to no good end while I was growing up.’

‘Did you happen to come across a fellow named Ezek while you were in Natayos?’ Orden asked. ‘I think he’s a Deiran.’

‘The name rings a bell. I think he was working for the fellow who ran the tavern.’

‘I sent him down there,’ Orden explained, ‘him and the other two – Col and Shallag. They were going to see if they could join Narstil’s band of outlaws.’

‘They may have, but they were working in the tavern when I left.’

‘It’s none of my business, but if you were doing so well in Natayos, why did you leave?’

‘Instincts, Orden,’ Krager replied owlishly. I get this cold little feeling at the base of my skull, and I know that it’s time to run. Have you ever heard of a man named Sparhawk?’

‘You mean Prince Sparhawk? Everybody’s heard of him. He’s got quite a reputation.’

‘Oh, yes. That he does. Anyway, Sparhawk’s been looking for an opportunity to kill me for twenty years or so, and that’s the sort of thing that puts a very fine edge on a man’s instincts.’ Krager took another long drink.

‘You might want to give some thought to drying out for a while,’ Orden advised, looking meaningfully at Krager’s tankard of Arcian red. ‘I run a tavern, and I’ve learned to recognize the signs. Your liver’s starting to go on you, my friend. Your eyeballs are turning yellow.’

‘I’ll cut down once I get out to sea.’

‘I think you’ll have to do more than just cut down, Krager. You’re going to have to give it up entirely if you want to go on living. Believe me, you don’t want to die the way most drunkards do. I knew one once who screamed for three straight weeks before he finally died. It was awful.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with my liver,’ Krager said truculently. ‘It’s just the funny light in here. When I get out to sea, I’ll space out my drinks. I’ll be all right.’ His face had a haunted expression, however, and the mere mention of giving up strong drink had set his hands to trembling violently.

Orden shrugged. He had tried to warn the man. ‘It’s up to you, Krager,’ he said. ‘I’ll ask around and see if I can find a ship that’ll get you out of Prince Sparhawk’s reach.’

‘Soon, Orden. Soon.’ Krager held out his tankard. ‘In the meantime, why don’t we have another?’

Ekrasios and his party of Delphae reached Norenja late in the afternoon on a murky day when heavy clouds hung low over the treetops and there was not a breath of air moving. Ekrasios took his boyhood friend, Adras, and crept forward through the tangle of brush and vines to the edge of the clearing to survey the ruin.

‘Thinkest thou that they will offer resistance?’ Adras asked quietly.

‘That is difficult to predict,’ Ekrasios replied. ‘Anakha and his companions have advised that these rebels are poorly trained. Methinks their response to our sudden appearance will depend on the character of their officers. Better that we leave them a clear path to the surrounding forest. Should we encircle them, desperation will impel them to fight.’

Adras nodded. ‘They have made some effort to repair the gates,’ he said, pointing at the entrance to the city.

‘The gates will pose no problem. I will instruct thee and our companions in the spell which doth modify the curse of Edaemus. Those newly-made gates are constructed of wood, and wood is as susceptible to decay as is flesh.’ He looked up at the dirty grey clouds. ‘Canst thou make any estimate as to the time of day?’

‘No more than two hours until dusk,’ Adras replied.

‘Let us proceed then. We must find yet another gate to provide means of escape for those whom we would confront this night.’

‘And if there be none other?’

‘Then those who would escape must find their own way. I am reluctant to unleash the full force of the curse of Edaemus. Should necessity compel me to it, however, I will not shrink from that stern duty. Should they flee, well and good. Should they choose to stay and fight, we will do what we must. I do assure thee, Adras, that when tomorrow’s sun rises, none living shall remain within the walls of Norenja.’

‘Good God!’ Berit exclaimed, peering over the edge of the dry gully at the huge soldiers in close-fitting armor running westward across the sun-baked gravel. ‘They’re monsters!’

‘Keep your voice down,’ Khalad cautioned. ‘There’s no way of knowing how good their ears are.’

The strange, bestial soldiers were larger than Atans, and their burnished steel breastplates fit their torsos snugly, outlining each muscle. They wore helmets adorned with fanciful horns or wings, and the visors of those helmets were individualized, evidently forged to fit each warrior’s face. They ran westward in a sort of ragged formation, and their hoarse gasping was clearly audible even at this distance.

‘Where are they going?’ Berit demanded. ‘The border’s off in the other direction.’