"I would not presume to instruct Ortzel in theology."
"Nor would I, My Lord. Might I point out, however, that should His Grace ascend to the Archprelacy, he's going to have to modify his position - or at least learn to look the other way when this sort of thing happens. The four orders are the military arm of the Church, and we routinely utilize the secrets of Styricum in completing our tasks."
"I'm aware of that, Sir Sparhawk. My brother, however, is a rigid man and unlikely to change his views."
Sparhawk began to pace up and down, thinking fast. "Very well, then," he said carefully. "What we'll have to do to get your brother out of the castle will seem unnatural to you, but I assure you that it will be very effective. Sephrenia is highly skilled in the secrets. I've seen her do things that verge on the miraculous. You have my guarantee that she will in no way endanger your brother."
"I understand, Sir Sparhawk."
"Good. I was afraid that you might object. Most people are reluctant to rely on things they don't understand. Now, then, His Grace will in no way participate in what we may have to do. To put it bluntly, he'd just be in the way. All he's going to do is take advantage of it. He will in no way be personally involved in what he considers a sin."
"Understand me, Sir Sparhawk, I am not opposed to you in this. I will try reason with my brother. Sometimes he listens to me."
"Let's hope this is one of those times." Sparhawk glanced out of the window and swore.
"What is it, Sir Sparhawk?"
"Is that Gerich standing on top of that knoll at the rear of his troops?"
The Baron looked out of the embrasure. "It is."
"You might recognize the man standing beside him. That's Adus, Martel's underling. It seems that Martel's been playing both sides in this affair. The one that concerns me, though, is that figure standing off to one side - the tall one in the black robe."
"I don't think it poses much of a threat, Sir Sparhawk. It seems to be hardly more than a skeleton."
"You notice how its face seems to glow?"
"Now that you mention it, yes, I do. Isn't that odd?"
"Its more than odd, Baron Alstrom. I think I'd better go and talk with Sephrenia. She needs to know about this immediately."
Sephrenia sat beside the fire in her room with her ever-present teacup in her hands. Flute sat cross-legged on the bed, weaving a cat's cradle of such complexity that Sparhawk pulled his eyes away from it lest his entire mind become lost in trying to trace out the individual strands. "we've got trouble," he told his tutor.
"I noticed that," she replied.
"It's a little more serious than we'd thought. Adus is out there with Count Gerich, and Krager's probably lurking around somewhere in the background."
"Martel's beginning to make me very tired."
"Adus and Krager don't add that much to the problems we've already got, but that thing, the Seeker, is out there too."
"Are you sure?" She came quickly to her feet.
"It's the right size and shape, and that same glow is coming out from under its hood. How many humans can it take over at any one time?"
"I don't think there are any limits, Sparhawk, not when Azash is controlling it."
"Do you remember those ambushers back near the Pelosian border? How they just kept coming even though we were cutting them to pieces?"
"Yes."
"If the Seeker can gain control of Gerich's whole army, he'll mount an assault that Baron Alstrom's forces won't be able to withstand. We'd better get out of here in a hurry, Sephrenia. Have you come up with anything yet?"
"There are a few possibilities," she replied. "The presence of the Seeker complicates things a bit, but I think I know a way to get around it."
"I hope so. Let's go and talk with the others.
It was perhaps a half-hour later when they all gathered again in the room where they had first met the previous day. "Very well, gentlemen," Sephrenia said to them. "We are in great danger."
"The castle is quite secure, Madame," Alstrom assured her.
"In five hundred years it has never once fallen to sieges."
"I'm afraid things are different this time. A besieging army usually assaults the walls, doesn't it?"
"That's the common practice, once the siege engines have weakened the fortifications."
"After the assaulting force has taken heavy casualties, they normally fall back, don't they?"
"That's been my experience."
"Gerich's men will not fall back. They will continue their attack until they overwhelm the castle."
"how can you be so sure?"
"You remember the figure in the black robe I pointed out to you, My Lord?" Sparhawk said.
"Yes. It seemed to cause you some concern."
"With good reason, My Lord. That's the creature that's been pursuing us. It's called a Seeker. It's not human, it's subject to Azash."
"Beware of what you say, Sir Sparhawk," Patriarch Ortzel said ominously. The Church does not recognize the existence of the Styric Gods. You are treading very close to the brink of heresy."
"Just for the purposes of this discussion, let's assume that I know what I'm talking about," Sparhawk replied. "Setting Azash aside for the moment, it's important for you and your brother to understand just how dangerous that thing out there really is. It will be able to control Gerich's troops completely, and it will hurl them against this castle until they succeed in taking it."
"Not only that," Bevier added bleakly, "they will pay no attention to wounds that would incapacitate a normal man. The only way to stop them is to kill them. We've met men under the Seeker's control before, and we had to kill every last one of them."
"Sir Sparhawk," Alstrom said, "Count Gerich is my mortal enemy, but he's still an honourable man and a faithful son of the Church. He would not consort with a creature of darkness."
"It's entirely possible that the count doesn't even know it's there," Sephrenia said. "The whole point here, however, is that we're all in deadly peril."
"Why would that creature join forces with Gerich?" Alstrom asked.
"As Sparhawk said, it's been pursuing us. For some reason, Azash looks upon Sparhawk as a threat. The Elder Gods have some ability to see into the future, and its possible that Azash has caught a glimpse of something he wants to prevent. He's already made several attempts on Sparhawk's life. It's my belief that the Seeker is here for the express purpose of killing Sparhawk - or at the very least preventing his recovering Bhelliom. We must leave, My Lord, and quickly." She turned to Ortzel. "I'm afraid, Your Grace, that we have no choice. We're compelled to resort to the Arts of Styricum."
"I will not be a party to that," he said stiffly. "I know that you are Styric, Madame, and therefore ignorant of the dictates of the true faith, but how dare you propose to "practise your black arts in my presence? I am a Churchman, after all."
"I think that in time you may be obliged to modify your views, Your Grace," Ulath said calmly. "The militant orders are the arm of the Church. We receive instruction in the secrets so that we may better serve her. This practice has been approved by every Archprelate for nine hundred years."
"Indeed," Sephrenia added, "no Styric will consent to teach the Knights until approval is given by each new Archprelate."
"Should it come to pass that I ascend the throne in Chyrellos, that practice shall cease."
"Then the west will surely be doomed," she predicted, "for without these Arts, the Church Knights will be helpless against Azash, and without the Knights, the west will fall before the hordes of Otha."
"We have no evidence that Otha is coming."
"We have no evidence that summer is coming either," she said drily. She looked at Alstrom. "I believe I have a plan that may effect our escape, My Lord, but first I'll need to go to your kitchen and talk with your cook."
He looked puzzled. "The plan involves certain ingredients normally found in kitchens. I need to be certain they're available."
"There's a guard at the door, Madame," he said. "He Will escort you to the kitchen."
"Thank you, My Lord. Come along, flute." And she went out.
"What's she up to?" Tynian asked.
"Sephrenia almost never explains things in advance," Kalten told him. "Or afterwards either, I've noticed," Talen added, looking up from his drawing. "Speak when you're spoken to," Berit told him.
"If I did that, I'd forget how to talk."
"Surely you're not going to permit this, Alstrom?" Ortzel said angrily.
"I don't have much choice," Alstrom replied. "We absolutely must get you to safety, and this seems to be the only way."
"Did you see Krager out there too?" Kalten asked Sparhawk.
"No, but I imagine he's around somewhere. Somebody's got to keep an eye on Adus."
"Is this Adus so very dangerous?" Alstrom asked.
"He's an animal, My Lord," Kalten replied, "and a very stupid one. Sparhawk's promised that I get to kill Adus if I don't interfere when he goes after Martel. Adus can barely talk, and he kills for the sheer pleasure of it."
"He's dirty and he smells bad too," Talen added. "He chased me down a street once in Cammoria, and the odour almost knocked me off my feet."
"You think Martel might be with them?" Tynian asked hopefully.
"I doubt it," Sparhawk said. "I think I nailed his foot to the floor down in Rendor. It's my guess that he set things up here in Lamorkand and then went to Rendor to hatch things there. Then he sent Krager and Adus back here to set things in motion."
"I think the world would be better off without this Martel of yours," Alstrom said.
"We're going to do what we can to arrange that, My Lord," Ulath rumbled.
A few moments later, Sephrenia and Flute returned.
"Did you find the things you need?" Sparhawk asked.
"Most of them," she replied. "I can make the others."
She looked at Ortzel. "You might wish to retire, Your grace," she suggested. "I don't want to offend your sensibilities."
"I will remain, Madame," he said coldly. "Perhaps my presence will prevent this abomination from coming to be."
"Perhaps, but I rather doubt it." She pursed her lips and looked critically at the small earthen jar she had carried from the kitchen. "Sparhawk," she said, "I'm going to need an empty barrel."
"He went to the door and spoke with the guard.
Sephrenia walked to the table and picked up a crystal goblet. She spoke at some length in Styric, and with a soft rustling sound, the goblet was suddenly filled with a powder that looked much like lavender sand.
"Outrageous," Ortzel muttered. Sephrenia ignored him.
"Tell me, My Lord," she said to Alstrom, "you have pitch and naphtha, I assume."
"Of course. They're a part of the castle's defences."
"Good. If this is to work, we're going to need them.
The soldier entered, rolling a barrel.
"Right here, please," she instructed, pointing to a spot away from the fire. He set the barrel upright, saluted the baron and left.
Sephrenia spoke briefly to Flute. The little girl nodded and lifted her pipes. Her melody was strange, hypnotic and languorous. The Styric woman stood over the barrel, speaking in Styric and holding the jar in one hand and the goblet in the other. Then she began to pour their contents into the barrel. The pungent spices in the jar and the lavender sand in the goblet came spilling out, but neither vessel emptied. The two streams, mixing as they fell, began to glow, and the room was suddenly filled with star-like glitterings that soared, firefly-like, and sparkled on the walls and ceiling. Minute after minute the small woman poured on and on from the two seemingly inexhaustible containers.
It took nearly half an hour to fill the barrel. "There," Sephrenia said at last, "that should be enough." She looked down into the glowing barrel.
Ortzel was making strangling sounds.
She put the two containers far apart on the table. "I wouldn't let these two get mixed together, My Lord," she cautioned Alstrom, "and keep them away from any kind of fire."
"What are we doing here?" Tynian asked her.
"We must drive the Seeker away, Tynian. We'll mix what's in this barrel with naphtha and pitch and load the siege engines with the mixture. Then we'll ignite it and throw it in amongst Count Gerich's troops. The flame will force them to withdraw, temporarily at least. That's not the main reason we're doing it, however. The Seeker has a much different breathing apparatus from that of humans. While the fumes are noxious to humans, to the Seeker they're lethal. It will either flee or die."
"That sounds encouraging," he said.
"Was it really all so very terrible, Your Grace?" she asked Ortzel. "It's going to save your life, you know."
His face was troubled. "I had always thought that Styric magic was mere trickery, but there was no way you could have done what I just saw by charlatanism. I will pray on this matter. I will seek guidance from God."
"I wouldn't take too long, Your Grace," Kalten advised. "if you do, it could be that you'll arrive in Chyrellos just in time to kiss the ring of the Archprelate Annias."
"That must never happen," Alstrom declared sternly.
"The siege at the gates is my concern, Ortzel, not yours. Therefore I must regretfully withdraw my hospitality. You will leave my castle just as soon as it's convenient."
"Alstrom!" Ortzel gasped. "This is my home. I was born here."
"But our father left it to me. Your proper home is in the Basilica of Chyrellos. I advise you to go there at once."
Chapter 6
"We'll need to go to the highest point in your castle, My Lord," Sephrenia said after the Patriarch of Kadach had angrily stormed from the room.
"That would be the north tower," he replied.
"And can one see the besieging army from there?"
"Yes."