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‘Thou art savage, Anakha.’

‘I am outnumbered, Blue Rose. The warriors of Klæl put our cause in direst peril. We must know how long they can survive here.’

‘That will vary from warrior to warrior. No more than a day, certainly, and exertion will hasten the process.’

‘I thank thee, Blue Rose. My companions and I will devise tactics to use this information to best advantage.’

‘Pay attention, Sparhawk,’ Aphrael told him.

‘Sorry,’ he apologized. ‘I was conferring with our friend.’ He patted the bulge at his front. He looked at Vanion. ‘I picked up some more information about the weakness of Klæl’s soldiers,’ he said. ‘You and I need to work out some tactics.’

Vanion nodded.

‘Are you sure Berit and Khalad are all right?’ Sephrenia asked the little girl.

Aphrael nodded. ‘Zalasta doesn’t want us to know that he’s found out that we were deceiving him. He’s given orders to everyone to behave as if nothing’s happened.’ She thought a moment. ‘I guess that’s about all,’ she said. ‘Bergsten’s coming across the steppes; Kalten, Bevier, and Caalador are already in Natayos; and Ulath, Tynian and their pet Troll will be there before long.’

‘Can you get word to the Emperor?’ Itagne asked her. ‘He should know that the King of Arjuna’s in league with Scarpa.’

‘I’ll take care of it,’ she promised. Then she frowned slightly. ‘Sephrenia,’ she said, ‘have you been giving Stragen instruction in the secrets?’

‘No, why?’

‘He cast the spell of the secret summoning. He didn’t do it very well, but he got my attention.’

‘How in God’s name did he learn that?’ Vanion exclaimed, still holding Sephrenia in his arms.

‘Probably from watching the rest of you. Stragen’s very quick, and he does speak Styric. Stealing secrets is almost the same as picking pockets, I guess. Anyway, it was Stragen who told me about Scarpa’s other forts. He and Talen are planting false stories with that Dacite in order to confuse the other side.’

‘Methinks it is time for me to go to Natayos,’ Xanetia said. ‘We must verify the presence there of Anakha’s Queen and make preparations for her rescue.’

‘Before Zalasta tries to move her,’ Sparhawk added. ‘I’d better go along as well. The others are there already, and Kalten might need a firm hand to keep him from doing anything rash. Besides, if Ehlana and Alean are there, we might just as well pull them out of danger. Then I’ll disperse Scarpa’s army and we’ll go have a talk with Cyrgon.’

‘And Zalasta,’ Vanion added bleakly.

‘Oh, by the way,’ Aphrael said, ‘is anybody keeping a list of the people we want to do things about? If you are, you can scratch off Baron Parok’s name.’

‘Did Ulath kill him?’ Sparhawk guessed.

‘He isn’t dead, Sparhawk. As a matter of fact, he’s going to live forever. You’ll never find him, though. Khwaj was getting impatient, and he started pushing Ulath and Tynian for information about the people who’d abducted Ehlana. They gave him Parok.’

‘What happened?’ Itagne asked.

‘Ghnomb froze time.’ She shrugged. ‘Then Khwaj set fire to Parok. He’s completely engulfed in flame. He’s still running, and he’ll run – and burn – in that empty, unmoving instant for all eternity.’

‘Dear God!’ Itagne choked in horror.

‘I’ll pass that on to Khwaj, Itagne,’ the Child Goddess promised. ‘I’m sure he’ll be pleased that you approve.’

The air was cool and dry and the sky was peculiarly grey. Tynian and Ulath rode out of Arjun in frozen time with Bhlokw shambling along between their horses. ‘How long would you say it’s going to take us to reach Natayos?’ Tynian asked.

‘Oh,’ Ulath replied, I don’t know – couple of seconds, probably.’

‘Very funny.’

‘I rather liked it.’ Ulath looked up at the flock of birds hanging in mid-air overhead. ‘I wonder if a man ages at all when he’s walking around in this No-Time.’

‘I don’t know. You could go ask Baron Parok, I suppose.’

‘I doubt that he’d be very coherent.’ Ulath scratched at one bearded cheek. ‘I’m definitely going to shave this thing off, and if Gerda doesn’t like it, that’s just too bad.’ Then he thought of something he had been meaning to ask their shaggy friend. ‘Bhlokw,’ he said.

‘Yes, U-lat?’

‘It makes us sad that our hunt takes us to the lands of the sun where the heat causes hurt to you.’

‘It causes no hurt to me, U-lat. There is no heat or cold in No-Time.’

Ulath stared at him. ‘You are sure?’ he asked incredulously.

‘Do you feel heat?’ Bhlokw asked simply.

‘No,’ Ulath admitted, ‘I do not. It had been my thought -’ He broke off, frowning and trying to frame his next question in coherent Trollish. ‘We were far to the north when you and your pack-mates ate the children of Cyrgon who were both dead and not dead.’

‘Yes. It was north from where we are now.’

‘Then Ghnomb took you and your pack-mates into No-Time.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then Ghworg led you to the lands of the sun.’

‘Yes.’

‘There was no hurt caused to you when he did this?’

‘No. The hurt was caused by the things that were not how they should be.’

‘Which things were not how they should be?’

‘All of the Trolls were one pack. This is not how it should be. Troll-packs do not have so many. It is not a good way to hunt.’ Bhlokw rubbed at his shaggy face with one massive paw. ‘We did not hunt this way when we were in the Troll-range where we are supposed to be. My thought was that Ghworg’s mind was sick when he came to us and told us to cross the ice-which-never-melts to come to this place. It was not Ghworg who did this. It was Cyrgon. Cyrgon had made himself to look like Ghworg and spoke in Ghworg’s voice. It was my mind which was sick. My thought should have told me that it was not Ghworg.’

‘Does it cause hurt to you that the Trolls are all one pack?’

‘Much hurt, U-lat. I do not like it when things are not how they should be. I have known Grek for many snows. His pack hunts near my pack in the Troll-range. I do not like Grek. It has been in my thought for the past two snows to kill him. Ghworg will not let me kill him. This causes hurt to me.’