David Eddings - The Ruby Knight

‘I know. At this point I think speed is our only defence. We’re going to have to try to outrun that thing again.’

Kurik, Ulath and Tynian returned as dusk was settling over the desolate landscape. ‘There doesn’t seem to be anybody else out there,’ the squire reported, swinging down from his gelding.

‘We’re going to have to keep going,’ Sparhawk told him.

‘The horses are right on the verge of exhaustion, Sparhawk,’ the squire protested. He looked at the others. ‘And the people aren’t in much better shape. None of us has had very much sleep in the last two days.’

‘I’ll take care of it,’ Sephrenia said calmly, looking up from her examination of Kalten’s hairy torso.

‘How?’ Kalten sounded just a bit grumpy.

She smiled at him and wiggled her fingers under his nose. ‘How else?’

‘If there’s a spell that counteracts the way we’re all feeling right now, why didn’t you teach it to us before?’ Sparhawk was also feeling somewhat surly, since his headache had returned.

‘Because it’s dangerous, Sparhawk,’ she replied. ‘I know you Pandions. Given certain circumstances, you’d try to go on for weeks.’

‘So? If the spell really works, what difference does it make?’

‘The spell only makes you feel as if you’ve rested, but you have not, in fact. If you push it too far, you’ll die.’

‘Oh. That stands to reason, I suppose.’

‘I’m glad you understand.’

‘How’s Berit?’ Tynian asked.

‘He’ll be sore for a while, but he’s all right,’ she replied.

‘The young fellow shows some promise,’ Ulath said. ‘When his arm heals, I’ll give him some instruction with that axe of his. He’s got the right spirit, but his technique’s a little shaky.’

‘Bring the horses over here,’ Sephrenia told them. She began to speak in Styric, uttering some of the words under her breath and concealing her moving fingers from them. Try as he might, Sparhawk could not catch all of the incantation, nor even guess at the gestures which enhanced the spell. But suddenly he felt enormously refreshed. The dull headache was gone, and his mind was clear. One of the packhorses, whose head had been drooping and whose legs had been trembling violently, actually began to prance around like a colt.

‘Good spell,’ Ulath said laconically. ‘Shall we get started?’

They helped Berit into his saddle and rode out in the luminous twilight. The full moon rose an hour or so later, and it gave them sufficient light to risk a canter.

‘There’s a road just over that hill up ahead,’ Kurik told Sparhawk. ‘We saw it when we were looking around. It goes more or less in the right direction, and we could make better time if we follow it instead of stumbling over broken ground in the dark.’

‘I expect you’re right,’ Sparhawk agreed, ‘and we want to get out of this area as quickly as possible.’

When they reached the road, they pushed on to the east at a gallop. It was well past midnight when clouds moved in from the west, obscuring the night sky. Sparhawk muttered an oath and slowed their pace.

Just before dawn they came to a river, and the road turned north. They followed it, searching for a bridge or a ford. The dawn was gloomy under the heavy cloud cover. They rode upriver a few more miles, and then the road bent east again and ran down into the river to emerge on the far side.

Beside the ford stood a small hut. The man who owned the hut was a sharp-eyed fellow in a green tunic who demanded a toll to cross. Rather than argue with him, Sparhawk paid what he asked. ‘Tell me, neighbour,’ he said when the transaction was completed, ‘how far is the Pelosian border?’

‘About five leagues,’ the sharp-eyed fellow replied. ‘If you move swiftly, you should reach it by afternoon.’

‘Thanks, neighbour. You’ve been most helpful.’

They splashed on across the ford. When they reached the other side, Talen rode up beside Sparhawk. ‘Here’s your money back,’ the young thief said, handing over several coins.

Sparhawk gave him a startled look.

‘I don’t object to paying a toll to cross a bridge,’ Talen sniffed. ‘After all, somebody had to go to the expense of building it. That fellow was just taking advantage of a natural shallow place in the river, though. It didn’t cost him anything, so why should he make a profit from it?’

‘You cut his purse, then?’

‘Naturally.’

‘And there was more in it than just my coins?’

‘A bit. Let’s call it my fee for recovering your money. After all, I deserve a profit too, don’t I?’

‘You’re incorrigible.’

‘I needed the practice.’

From the other side of the river there came a how of anguish.

‘I’d say he just discovered his loss,’ Sparhawk observed.

‘It does sound that way, doesn’t it?’

The soil on the far side of the river was not a great deal better than the scrubby wasteland through which they had just passed. Occasionally they saw poor farmsteads where shabby-looking peasants in muddy brown smocks laboured long and hard to wrest scanty crops from the unyielding earth. Kurik sniffed disdainfully. ‘Amateurs,’ he grunted. Kurik took farming very seriously.

About mid-morning the narrow track they were following joined a well-travelled road that ran due east. ‘A suggestion, Sparhawk,’ Tynian said, shifting his blue-blazoned shield.

‘Suggest away.’

‘It might be better if we took this road to the border rather than cutting across country again. Pelosians tend to be sensitive about people who avoid the manned border-crossings. They’re obsessively concerned about smugglers. I don’t think we’d accomplish very much in a skirmish with one of their patrols.’

‘All right,’ Sparhawk agreed. ‘Let’s stay out of trouble if we can.’

Not very long after a dreary, sunless noon, they reached the border and passed without incident into the southern end of Pelosia. The farmsteads here were even more run-down than they had been in north-eastern Elenia. The houses and outbuildings were universally roofed with sod, and agile goats grazed on the roofs. Kurik looked about disapprovingly, but said nothing.

As evening settled over the landscape, they crested a hill and saw the twinkling lights of a village in the valley below. ‘An inn perhaps?’ Kalten suggested. ‘I think Sephrenia’s spell is starting to wear off. My horse is staggering, and I’m in not much better shape.’

‘You won’t sleep alone in a Pelosian inn,’ Tynian warned. ‘Their beds are usually occupied by all sorts of unpleasant little creatures.’

‘Fleas?’ Kalten asked.

‘And lice, and bed-bugs the size of mice.’

‘I suppose we’ll have to risk it,’ Sparhawk decided. ‘The horses won’t be able to go much farther, and I don’t think the Seeker would attack us inside a building. It seems to prefer open country.’ He led the way down the hill to the village.

The streets of the town were unpaved, and they were ankle-deep in mud. They reached the town’s only inn, and Sparhawk carried Sephrenia to the porch while Kurik followed with Flute. The steps leading up to the door were caked with mud, and the boot-scraper beside the door showed little signs of use. Pelosians, it appeared, were indifferent to mud. The interior of the inn was dim and smoky, and it smelled strongly of stale sweat and spoiled food. The floor had at one time been covered with rushes, but except in the corners, the rushes were buried in dried mud.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider this?’ Tynian asked Kalten as they entered.

‘My stomach’s fairly strong,’ Kalten replied, ‘and I caught a whiff of beer when we came in.’

The supper the innkeeper provided was at least edible, although a bit over-garnished with boiled cabbage, and the beds, mere straw pallets, were not nearly as bug-infested as Tynian had predicted.