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at the sufferance of the largely independent barons, who
retreated in times of trouble to positions behind the walls
of massive castles. Blood-feuds dating back a hundred
years or more were common, and rogue barons looted
and pillaged at will. For the most part, Lamorkand
existed in a state of perpetual civil war.
They made camp one night perhaps three leagues from
the border of that most troubled of western kingdoms,
and Sparhawk stood up directly after a supper of the last
of Kalten's hindquarter of beef. 'All right,' he said, 'what
are we walking into? What's stirring things up in Lamorkand? Any ideas?'
I spent the last eight or nine years in Lamorkand,'
Kalten said seriously. They're strange people. A Lamork
will sacrifice anything he owns for the sake of revenge and
the women are even worse than the men. A good
Lamork wife will spend her whole life - and all her father's
wealth - for the chance to sink a spear into somebody
who refused her invitation to the dance at some midwinter
party. I spent all those years there, and in all that
time, I never heard anyone laugh or saw anyone smile.
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It's the bleakest place on earth. The sun is forbidden to
shine in Lamorkand.'
"is this universal warfare we've been hearing about
from the Pelosians a common thing?' Sparhawk asked.
"Pelosians are not the best judges of Lamork peculiarities,'
Tynian replied thoughtfully. "It's only the influence
of the Church - and the presence of the Church Knights that's
kept Pelosia and Lamorkand from blithely embarking
on a war of mutual extinction. They despise each
other with a passion that's almost holy in its mindless
ferocity.'
Sephrenia sighed. 'Elenes,' she said.
'We have our faults, little mother,' Sparhawk conceded.
'We're going to run into trouble when we cross
the border then, aren't we?'
'Not entirely,' Tynian said, rubbing his chin. 'Are you
open to another suggestion, maybe?'
"I'm always open to suggestions.'
'Why don't we put on our formal armour? Not even the
most wild-eyed Lamork baron wil willingly cross the
Church, and the Church Knights could grind western
Lamorkand into powder if they felt like it.'
'What if somebody calls our bluff?' Kalten asked
'There are only five of us, after all.'
"I don't think they'd have any reason to,' Tynian said.
'The neutrality of the Church Knights in these local
disputes is legendary. Formal 'armour might be just the
thing to avoid misunderstandings. Our purpose is to get
to Lake Randera, not to engage in random disputes with
hotheads.'
"It might work, Sparhawk,' Ulath said. "It's worth a try
anyway.'
'All right, let's do it then,' Sparhawk decided.
When they arose the following morning, the five
knights unpacked their formal armour and began to put
it on with the help of Kurik and Berit. Sparhawk and
Kalten wore Pandion black with silver surcoats and
formal black capes. Bevier's armour was burnished to a
silvery sheen, and his surcoat and cape were pristine
white. Tynian's armour was simply massive steel, but his
sircoat and cape were a brilliant sky blue. Ulath put aside
the utilitarian mail-shirt he had worn on the trail and
replaced it with chain-mail trousers and a mail-coat that
reached to mid-thigh. He stowed away his simple conical
helmet and green traveller's cloak and put on instead a
green surcoat and a very grand-looking helmet surmounted
by a pair of the curled and twisted horns he had
identified as having come from an Ogre.
"well?' Sparhawk said to Sephrenia when they had
finished putting on their finery, 'how do we look?'
"very impressive,' she complimented them.
Talen, however, eyed them critically. 'They look sort of
like an iron-works that sprouted legs, don't they?' he
observed to Berit.
"be polite,' Berit said, concealing a smile behind one
hand.
"thats depressing,' Kalten sighed to Sparhawk. 'Do
you think we really look that ridiculous to the common
people?'
'Probably.'
KUriK and Berit cut lances from a nearby yew-grove
and attached steel points to them.
'Pennons!' Kurik asked.
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Eddings, David - Elenium 2 - The Ruby Knight.txt
What do you think?' Sparhawk asked Tynian.
"It couldn't hurt. Let's try to look as impressive as we
can, I suppose.'
They mounted with some difficulty, adjusted their
shields and moved their pennon-flagged lances into
positions where they were prominently displayed and
rode out. Faran immediately began to prance. 'Oh, stop
that,' Sparhawk told him disgustedly.
They crossed into Lamorkand not much past noon.
The border guards looked suspicious, but automatically
gave way to the Knights of the Church dressed in their
formal armour and wearing expressions of inexorable
resolve.
The Lamork city of Kadach stood on the far side of a
river. There was a bridge, but Sparhawk decided against
going through that bleak, ugly place. Instead, he
checked his map and turned north. 'The river branches
upstream,' he told the others. 'We'll be able to ford it up
there. We're going more or less in that direction
anyway, and towns are filled with people who just
might want to talk to alien strangers asking questions
about us.'
They rode on north to the series of small streams that
fed into the main channel. It was when they were
crossing one of these shallow streams that afternoon that
they saw a large body of Lamork warriors on the far bank.
'Spread out,' Sparhawk commanded tersely.
'Sephrenia, take Talen and Flute to the rear.'
'You think they might belong to the Seeker?' Kalten
asked, moving his hand up the shaft of his lance.
'We'll find out in a minute. Don't do anything rash, but
be ready for trouble.'
The leader of the group of warriors was a burly fellow
wearing a chaincoat, a steel helmet with a protruding,
pig-faced visor and stout leather boots. He advanced into
the stream alone and raised his visor to show that he had
no hostile intentions.
"I think he's all right, Sparhawk,' Bevier said quietly.
'He doesn't have that blank look on his face that the men
we killed back in Elenia had.'
'Well met, Sir Knights,' the Lamork said.
Sparhawk nudged Faran forward a bit through the
swirling current. 'Well met indeed, My Lord,' he replied.
'This is a fortunate encounter,' the Lamork continued.
"It seemed me that we might have ridden even so far as
Elenia ere we had encountered Church Knights.'
'And what is your business with the Knights of the
Church, My Lord?' Sparhawk asked politely.
&n
bsp; 'We require a service of you, Sir Knight - a service that
bears directly on the well-being of the Church.'
'We live but to serve her,' Sparhawk said, struggling to
conceal his irritation. 'Speak further concerning this
necessary service.'
'As all the world knows, the Patriarch of the city of
Kadach is the paramount choice for the Archprelate's
throne in Chyrellos,' the helmeted Lamork stated.
"I hadn't heard that,' Kalten said quietly from behind.
hush,' Sparhawk muttered over his shoulder. 'Say
on, My Lord,' he said to the Lamork.
?misfortunately, civil turmoil mars western Lamorkand
presently,' the Lamork continued.
"I like "misfortunately",' Tynian murmured to Kalten
"It's got a nice ring to it.'
'Will you two be quiet?' Sparhawk snapped. Then he
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looked back at the man in the chain-coat. 'Rumour has
advised us of this discord, My Lord,' he replied. 'But
surely this is a local matter, and does not involve the
church.'
"I will speak to the point, Sir Knight. The Patriarch
Ortzel of Kadach has been forced by the turmoil I but
recently mentioned to seek shelter in the stronghold of
his brother, the Baron Alstrom, whom I have the honour
to serve. Rude civil discord rears its head here in
Lamorkand, and we anticipate with some certainty that
the foes of My Lord Alstrom will shortly besiege his
fortress.'
"we are but five, My Lord,' Sparhawk pointed out
"Surely our aid would be of little use in a protracted
assault."
"no, Sir Knight,' the Lamork said with a disdainful
smile. 'We can sustain ourselves and my Lord Alstrom's
castle without the aid of the invincible Knights of the
Church. My Lord Alstrom's castle is impregnable, and
his foes may freely dash themselves to pieces against its
walls for a generation or more without causing us alarm.
As I have said, however, the Patriarch Ortzel is the
paramount choice for the Archprelacy - in the event of
the demise of the revered Cluvonus, which, please God,
may be delayed for a time. Thus I charge you and your
noble companions, Sir Knight, to convey his Grace safe
and whole to the sacred city of Chyrellos so that he may
stand for election, should that mournful necessity come
to pass. With that end in view, I will forthwith convey
you and your knightly companions to the stronghold of
My Lord of Alstrom so that you may undertake this noble
task. Let us then proceed.'
*Chapter4
The castle of Baron Alstrom was situated on a rocky
promontory on the east bank of the river. The promontory
jutted out into the main channel a few leagues
above the town of Kadach. It was a bleak, ugly fortress,
squatting toad-like under a cheerless sky. Its walls were
thick and high, seeming to reflect the stiff, unyielding
arrogance of its owner.
"impregnable?' Bevier murmured derisively to
Sparhawk as the knight in the chain-coat led them along
the short causeway that led out to the castle gate. "I could
reduce these walls within the space of two years. No
Arcian noble would feel secure within such flimsy
fortifications. '
'Arcians have more time to build their castles,'
Sparhawk pointed out to the white-caped knight. "It
takes longer to start a war in Arcium than it does here in
Lamorkand. You can start a war here in about five
minutes, and it's likely to go on for generations.'
Truly,' Bevier agreed. He smiled faintly. 'in my youth
I gave some time to the study of military history. When I
turned to the volumes dealing with Lamorkand, I threw
up my hands in despair. No rational man could sort out
all the alliances, betrayals and blood feuds that seethe
just below the surface of this unhappy kingdom.'
The drawbridge boomed down, and they clattered on
across it into the castle's main court. 'And it please you,
Sir Knights,' the Lamork knight said, dismounting, "I will
convey you directly into the presence of the Baron
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Alstrom and His Grace, the Patriarch Ortzel. Time is
pressing, and we must see His Grace safely out of the
castle ere the forces of Count Gerich mount their siege. '
'Lead on, Sir Knight,' Sparhawk said, clanking down
from Faran's back. He leaned his lance against the wall of
the stable, hung his silver-embossed black shield on hiS
saddle and handed his reins to a waiting groom.
They went up a broad stone staircase and through the
pair of massive doors at its top. The hallway beyond was
torchlit, and the stones of its walls were massive. 'Did
you warn that groom?' Kalten asked, falling in beside
Sparhawk, his long black cape swirling about his ankles.
'About what?'
'Your horse's disposition.'
'I forgot,' Sparhawk confessed. 'He'll find out on his
own, I imagine.'
'He probably already has.'
The room to which the Lamork knight led them was
bleak. In many respects it was more like an armoury than
living quarters. Swords and axes hung on the walls, and
pikes in clusters of a dozen or so leaned in the corners. A
fire burned in a huge, vaulted fireplace, and the few
chairs were heavy and unpadded. There was no carpeting
on the floor, and a number of huge wolf-hounds
dozed here and there.
Baron Alstrom was a grim-faced, melancholy-looking
man. His black hair and beard were shot with grey. He
wore a mailcoat and had a broadsword at his waist. His
surcoat was black and elaborately embroidered in red, and
like the knight in the pig-faced helmet, he wore boots.
Their escort bowed stiffly. 'By good fortune, My Lord,
I encountered these Knights of the Church no more than
a league from your walls. They were gracious enough to
accompany me here.'
'Did we have any choice?' Kalten muttered.
The Baron rose from his chair with a movement made
clumsy by the encumbrance of armour and sword.
'Greetings, Sir Knights,' he said, in a voice without much
warmth. "it was indeed fortuitous that Sir Enmann
encountered you so near this stronghold. The forces of
mine enemy will presently besiege me here, and my
brother must be safely away before
they come.'
'Yes, My Lord,' Sparhawk replied, removing his black
helmet and looking after the departing Lamork in the
chaincoat. 'Sir Enmann advised us of the circumstances.
Might it not have been more prudent, however, to have
sent your brother on his way with an escort of your own
troops? It was only a chance meeting that brought us to
your gate ahead of your enemies.'
Alstrom shook his head. 'The warriors of Count
Gerrich would certainly attack my men on sight. Only
under escort of the Knights
of the Church will my brother
be safe, Sir - ?'
'Sparhawk. ''
Alstrom looked briefly surprised. 'The name is not
unknown to us,' he said. He looked inquiringly at the
others, and Sparhawk made the introductions.
'An oddly assorted party, Sir Sparhawk,' Alstrom
observed after he had bowed perfunctorily to Sephrenia.
"but is it wise to take the lady and the two children on a
Journey that might involve danger?'
The lady is essential to our purpose,' Sparhawk
replied. 'The little girl is under her care, and the boy is her
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page. She would not leave them behind.'
'Page?' he heard Talen whisper to Berit. 'I've been
called a lot of things, but that's a new one.'
'Hush,' Berit whispered back.
"what astonishes me even more, however,' Alstrom
continued, 'is the fact that all four of the militant orders
are represented here. Relations between the orders have
not been cordial of late, I've been told.'
'We are embarked upon a quest which directly
involves the Church,' Sparhawk explained, taking off his
gauntlets. "it is of such pressing urgency that our
Preceptors brought us together that we might by our
unity Prevail.'
'The unity of the Church Knights, like that of the
Church herself, is long overdue,' a harsh voice said from
the far side of the room. A Churchman stepped out of the
shadows. His black cassock was plain, even severe, and
his hollowcheeked face was bleakly ascetic. His hair was
pale blond, streaked with grey, and it fell straight to his
shoulders, appearing to have been hacked off at that
point with the blade of a knife.
'My brother,' Alstrom introduced him, 'the Patriarch
Ortzel of Kadach.'
Sparhawk bowed, his armour creaking slightly. 'Your
Grace,' he said.
'This Church matter you mentioned interests me,'
Ortzel said, coming forward into the light. 'What can it be
that is of such urgency that it impels the Preceptors of the
four orders to set aside old emnities and to send their
champions forth as one?'
Sparhawk thought only a moment, then gambled. 'is
Your Grace perhaps acquainted with Annias, Primate of
Cimmura?' he asked, depositing his gauntlets in his
helmet.
Ortzel's face hardened. 'We've met,' he said flatly.
'We've also had that pleasure, ' Kalten said drily, 'often
enough to more than satisfy me, at least.'