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  disrespectful,' he said, 'but I rather hope that the election

  doesn't fall to Ortzel. I think the Church - and the four

  orders - would be in for a bad time if he ascends the

  throne.'

  'He's a good man.'

  'Granted, but he's very rigid. An Archprelate needs to

  be flexible. Times are changing, Sparhawk, and the

  Church needs to change with them. I don't think the

  notion of change would appeal to Ortzel very much.'

  'That's in the hands of the Hierocracy, though, and I'd

  definitely prefer Ortzel to Annias.'

  'That's God's own truth.'

  About mid-morning, they overtook the clattering

  wagon of a shabby-looking itinerant tinker who was also

  travelling northwards. 'What cheer, neighbour?' Sparhawk

  asked him.

  'Scant cheer, Sir Knight,' the tinker replied glumly.

  'These wars are bad for business. Nobody worries about

  a leaky pot when his house is under siege.'

  'That's probably very true. Tell me, do you know of a

  bridge or a ford hereabouts where we can get across that

  river ahead?'

  'There's a toll bridge a couple of leagues north,' the

  tinker advised. 'Where are you bound, Sir Knight?'

  'Lake Randera.'

  The tinker's eyes brightened. 'To search for the

  treasure?' he asked.

  'What treasure?'

  'Everybody in Lamorkand knows that there's a vast

  treasure buried somewhere on the old battlefield at the

  lake. People have been digging there for five hundred

  years. About all they turn up is rusty swords and

  skeletons, though.'

  'How did people find out about it?' Sparhawk asked

  him, sounding casual.

  'it was the oddest thing. The way I understand it, not

  too long after the battle, people started seeing Styrics

  digging there. Now, that doesn't really make any sense,

  does it? What I mean is that everybody knows that Styrics

  don't pay very much attention to money, and Styric

  menfolk are very reluctant to pick up shovels. That sort

  of tool doesn't seem to fit their hands for some reason. At

  any rate, or so the story goes, people began to wonder

  just exactly what it was the Styrics were looking for.

  That's when the rumours started about the treasure. That

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  ground's been Ploughed and sifted over a hundred times

  or more. Nobody's sure what they're looking for, but

  everybody in Lamorkand goes there once or twice in his

  lifetime.'

  'Maybe the Styrics know what's buried there.'

  ?maybe so, but no one can talk to them. They run away

  any time somebody gets near them.'

  'Peculiar. Well, thank you for the information, neighbour.

  Good day to you.'

  They rode on, leaving the tinker's clanking wagon

  behind. 'That's gloomy,' Kalten said. "Somebody got

  there with a shovel before we did.'

  'A lot of shovels,' Tynian amended.

  He's right about one thing, though,' Sparhawk said.

  'I've never known a Styric to be interested enough in

  money to go out of his way for it. I think we'd better find a

  Styric village and ask a few questions. Something's going

  on at Lake Randera that we don't know about, and I don't

  like surprises.'

  *Chapter7

  The toll bridge was narrow and in some disrepair. A

  shabby hut stood at its near end with several dirty,

  hungry-looking children sitting listlessly in front of it.

  The bridge-tender himself wore a ragged smock, and his

  unshaven face was gaunt and hopeless. His eyes clouded

  with disappointment when he saw the armour of the

  knights. 'No charge,' he sighed.

  'You'll never make a living that way, friend,' Kalten

  told him.

  'It's a local regulation, My Lord,' the bridge-tender

  said unhappily. 'No charge is made to Church people.'

  'Do very many people cross here?' Tynian asked him.

  'No more than a few a week,' the fellow replied.

  'Hardly enough to make it possible for me to pay my

  taxes. My children haven't had a decent meal in months.'

  'Are there any Styric villages hereabouts?' Sparhawk

  asked him.

  'I believe there's one on the other side of the river, Sir

  Knight - in that cedar forest over there.'

  'Thank you, neighbour,' Sparhawk said, pouring

  some coins into the startled fellow's hand.

  'I can't charge you to cross, My Lord,' the man

  objected.

  'The money's not for crossing, neighbour. It's for the

  information. ' Sparhawk nudged Faran and started across

  the bridge.

  As Talen passed the bridge-tender, he leaned over and

  handed him something. 'Get your children something to

  eat,' he said.

  Thank you, young master,' the man said, tears

  of gratitude standing in his eyes.

  ,What did you give him?' Sparhawk asked.

  The money I stole from that sharp-eyed fellow back at

  the ford,' Talen replied.

  That was very generous of you.'

  'I can always steal more.' The boy shrugged. 'Besides,

  he and his children need it more than I do. I've been

  hungry' a few times myself, and I know how it feels. '

  Kalten leaned forward in his saddle. 'You know, there

  might be some hope for this boy after all, Sparhawk,' he

  said quietly.

  'it could be a little early to say for sure.'

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  'At least it's a start.'

  The damp forest on the ' far side of the river was

  composed of mossy old cedars with low-swooping green

  boughs, and the trail leading into it was poorly marked.

  well?' SParhawk said to SePhrenia.

  "they're here,' she told him. 'They're watching us.'

  They'll hide when we approach their village, won't

  they?"

  'Probably. Styrics have little reason to trust armed

  Elenes. I should be able to persuade at least some of them

  to come out, though.'

  Like all Styric villages, the place was rude. The thatchroofed

  huts were scattered haphazardly in a clearing,

  and there was no street of any kind. As Sephrenia had

  predicted, there was no one about. The small woman

  leaned over and spoke briefly to Flute in that Styric

  dialect Sparhawk did not understand. The little girl

  nodded, lifted her pipes and began to play.

  At first nothing happened.

  'I think I just saw one of them back in the trees,' Kalten

  said after a few moments.

  Timid, aren't they?' Talen said.

  "They have reason to be,' Sparhawk told him. 'Elenes

  don't treat Styrics very well.'

  Flute continued to play, and after a time a whitebearded

  man in a smock made of unbleached homespun

  emerged hesitantly from the forest. He put his hands

  together in front of his chest and bowed respectfully to

  Sephrenia, speaking to her in Styric. Then he looked at

  Flute, and his eyes widened. He bowed again, and she

  gave him an i
mpish little smile.

  'Aged one,' Sephrenia said to him, 'do you perchance

  speak the language of the Elenes?'

  'I have a passing familiarity with it, my sister,' he

  replied. 'Good. These knights have a few questions, and then

  we'll leave your village and trouble you no more.'

  'I will answer as best I can.'

  "Some time back,' Sparhawk began, 'we chanced upon

  a tinker who told us something a bit disquieting. He said

  that Styrics have been digging in the battlefield at Lake

  Randera for centuries, searching for a treasure. That

  doesn't seem like the sort of thing Styrics would do.'

  'it is not, My Lord,' the old man said flatly. 'We have

  no need of treasure, and we would most certainly not

  violate the graves of those who sleep there."

  'I thought that might be the case. Have you any idea of

  who those Styrics might be?'

  'They are not of our kindred, Sir Knight, and they

  serve a God whom we despise. '

  'Azash?' Sparhawk guessed.

  The old man blanched slightly. 'I will not speak His

  name aloud, Sir Knight, but you have hit upon my

  meaning.'

  'Then the men digging at the lake are Zemochs?'

  The old man nodded. 'We have known of their

  presence there for centuries. We do not go near them, for

  they are unclean.'

  "I think we'd all agree to that,' Tynian said. 'Have you

  got any idea of what they're looking for?'

  "Some ancient talisman that Otha craves for his God.'

  'The tinker we spoke with said that most people

  around here believe there's a vast treasure there somewhere.'

  The old man smiled. 'Elenes tend to exaggerate

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  things,' he said. 'They cannot believe that the Zemochs

  would devote so much effort to the finding of one single

  thing - although the thing they seek is of greater worth

  than all the treasure in the world.'

  That answers that question, doesn't it?' Kalten noted.

  'Elenes have an indiscriminate lust for gold and

  -precious gems,' the old Styric went on, 'and so it's

  entirely possible that they don't even know what they're

  looking for. They expect huge chests of treasure, but

  'there are no such chests to be found on that field. It's not

  impossible that some one of them might already have

  found the object and cast it aside, not knowing its worth. '

  'No, aged master,' Sephrenia disagreed. 'The talisman

  of which you speak has not yet been found. Its uncovering

  would ring like a giant bell through all the world.'

  'it may be as you say, my sister. Do you and your

  companions also journey to the lake in search of the

  talisman?'

  'Such is our intent,' she replied, 'and our quest is of

  some urgency. If nothing else, we must deny possession

  of the talisman to Otha's God.'

  'I shall pray to my God for your success then.' The old

  Styric looked back at Sparhawk. 'How fares it with the

  head of the Elene Church?' he asked carefully.

  The Archprelate is very old,' Sparhawk told him

  truthfully, 'and his health is failing.'

  The old man sighed. 'It is as I feared,' he said.

  'Although I am sure he would not accept the good wishes

  of a Styric, I nonetheless also pray to my God that he will

  live for many more years.'

  'Amen to that,' Ulath said.

  The white-bearded Styric hesitated. 'Rumour states

  that the Primate of a place called Cimmura is most likely

  to become the head of your Church,' he said cautiously.

  'That could be a bit exaggerated,' Sparhawk told him.

  'There are many in the Church who oppose the

  ambitions of Primate Annias. A part of our own purpose

  is to thwart him as well.'

  'Then I shall pray for you doubly, Sir Knight. Should

  Annias reach the throne in Chyrellos, it will be a disaster

  for Styricum.'

  'And for just about everybody else as well,' Ulath

  grunted.

  'it wil be far more deadly for Styrics, Sir Knight. The

  feelings of Annias of Cimmura about our race are widely

  known. The authority of the Elene Church has kept the

  hatred of the Elene commons in check, but should

  Annias succeed, he will probably remove that restraint,

  and I fear Styricum will be doomed.'

  'We will do all we can to prevent his reaching the

  throne,' Sparhawk promised.

  The old Styric bowed. 'May the hands of the Younger

  Gods of Styricum protect you, my friends.' He bowed

  again to Sephrenia and then to flute.

  'Let's move on,' Sephrenia said. 'We're keeping the

  other villagers away from their homes.'

  They rode out of the village and back into the forest.

  'So the people digging up the battlefield are Zemochs,'

  Tynian mused. 'They're creeping all over western Eosia,

  aren't they?'

  'We have known that it's all part of Otha's plan for

  generations,' Sephrenia said. 'Most Elenes cannot tell the

  difference between western Styrics and Zemochs. Otha

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  does not want any kind of alliance or reconciliation

  between western Styrics and Elenes. A few well-placed

  atrocities have kept the prejudices of the Elene common

  people inflamed, and the stories of such incidents grow

  with every telling. This has been the source of centuries

  of general oppression and random massacres.'

  'Why does the possibility of an alliance worry Otha so

  much?' Kalten sounded puzzled. 'There aren't enough

  Styrics in the west to pose that much of a threat, and since

  they won't touch steel weapons, they wouldn't be of

  much use if war breaks out again, would they?'

  The Styrics would fight with magic, not steel, Kalten,'

  Sparhawk told him, 'and Styric magicians know a lot

  more about it than the Church Knights.'

  "the fact that the Zemochs are at Lake Randera is

  promising, though,' Tynian said.

  'How so?' Kalten asked.

  'if they're still digging, it means they haven't found

  Bhelliom yet. It also hints at the fact that we're going to

  the right place.'

  'I'm not so sure,' Ulath disagreed. 'if they've been

  looking for Bhelliom for the last five hundred years and

  still haven't found it, maybe Lake Randera's not the right

  place. '

  'Why haven't the Zemochs tried necromancy? The

  way we're going to?' Kalten asked.

  'Thalesian spirits would not respond to a Zemoch

  necromancer,' Ulath replied. 'They'll probably talk to

  me, but not to anybody else.'

  'it's a good thing you're along then, Ulath,' Tynian

  said. 'I'd hate to go to all the trouble of raising ghosts and

  then find out that they won't talk to me.'

  'if you raise them, I'll talk with them.'

  'You didn't ask him about the Seeker,' Sparhawk said

  to Sephrenia.

  "There was no need. It would only have frightened

  him. Besides, if those villagers had known the S
eeker

  was in this part of the world, the village would have been

  abandoned.'

  'Maybe we should have warned him.'

  'No, Sparhawk. Life is hard enough for those people

  without turning them into vagabonds. The Seeker is

  looking for us. The villagers are in no danger.'

  It was late afternoon by the time they reached the edge

  of the woods. They halted there and peered out over

  seemingly deserted fields. 'Let's camp back here among

  the trees,' Sparhawk said. 'That's awfully open ground

  out there. I'd rather not have anyone see our fire if I can

  avoid it.'

  They rode back among the trees a short way and set up

  camp for the night. Kalten walked out to the edge of the

  wood to keep watch. Shortly after dark, he returned.

  'You'd better hide that fire a little better,' he told Berit.

  'You can see it from the edge of the trees.'

  'right away, Sir Kalten,' the young novice replied. He

  took a spade and banked more earth around their small

  cook-fire.

  'We're not the only ones around here, Sparhawk,' the

  big blond Pandion said seriously. 'There are a couple of

  fires about a mile out there in those fields.'

  'Let's go and have a look,' Sparhawk said to Tynian

  and Ulath. 'We'll need to pinpoint the locations so we can

  slip around them in the morning. Even if the Seeker

  won't be a problem for several more days, there are still

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  other people trying to keep us away from the lake.

  Coming, Kalten?'

  'Go ahead,' his friend said. 'I haven't eaten yet.'

  'We might need you to point the fires out to us.'

  'You can't miss them,' Kalten said, filling his wooden

  bowl. 'Whoever built them wants lots of light.'

  'He's very attached to his stomach, isn't he?' Tynian

  said as the three knights walked towards the edge of the

  wood.

  'He eats a great deal,' Sparhawk admitted, 'but he's a

  big man, so it takes a lot of food to keep him going.'

  The fires far out in the open fields were clearly visible.

  Sparhawk carefully noted the locations. 'We'll swing

  north, I think,' he said quietly to the others. 'Probably

  we'll want to stay in the woods until we get well past

  those camps out there.'

  'Peculiar,' Ulath said.

  'What is?' Tynian asked.

  Those camps aren't very far apart. If the men out there

  know each other, why didn't they make just one camp?'

  'Maybe they don't like each other.'

  "Why did they camp so close together then?'