Chapter 6

The next morning they rode into a fairly large town named Amaunae just north of the Deiran border, nestled in the fork of the Styric River. It was a rather clean settlement, with orderly streets that formed straight blocks around a central square. Sparhawk could see office buildings lining the square. One office seemed bigger and more important than the rest. Tynian pointed at it. "There's the office of the Governor. He's actually a Baron with an estate that covers most of this land, but this section of the kingdom has been divided into districts for purposes of a census, so his title has temporarily changed. When we get there, let me do the talking. I know the Governor and I know how to get information out of him."

"Nevermind," Sparhawk said to Stragen, who was looking slant-eyed at Tynian.

"What?" the thief asked as they dismounted and walked their horses to the row of neat buildings.

"Just don't get any ideas." He turned back to Tynian. "Alright. I won't play mute, but I'll let you handle things the way you want."

When they reached the office, Sparhawk and the others picketed their horses. "Tynian and I will go in. I don't think we all need to jam into this man's office. Why don't you take the ladies out into the square."

"That's very nice, Sparhawk, but I'll be coming in with you as well," Sephrenia said.

"But-"

"No buts. You've been treating me like a porcelain doll ever since we left, and it's time I actually became involved. This does concern me rather chiefly. And besides, I hardly think there are any dangers in a room that small that I can't handle. Especially with you around. Now shall we go in?"

Tynian led the way inside and spoke briefly with a beady-eyed secretary. The man scurried away from his desk to the back room. In a moment he returned, followed by an older man Sparhawk presumed to be the Governor. His hair was reddish blonde touched with grey, yet he was built like a brick house and very nearly taller than Tynian.

"Tynian, dear boy, how nice to see you," he said expansively. "It's been quite a while. What on earth are you doing in my neck of the woods?"

"My friends and I are looking for someone, Governor Saretori. We were hoping you might help us out with some answers, as well as an update on recent news here in this, ah, neck of the woods."

"Please Tynian. You weren't that way when you were a child."

Tynian frowned at the Governor. "Can you help us or not?"

Saretori laughed. "Of course I can." He looked at them. "You are Prince Sparhawk of Elenia unless I am mistaken, and the lady must be your lovely Styric tutor. My utmost apologies, Madam, but I have not the pleasure of knowing your name."

"This is Sephrenia," Sparhawk introduced.

"Please join me in my private chamber," he offered.

"What was it you wanted to know?" He asked when they were all seated around the splendidly furnished apartment. Sparhawk told him about the assassins and showed him the pictures of both. Saretori frowned and thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "I didn't see anyone myself, but I did overhear a conversation about the brands. And a few of people matching this description," he tapped the picture of Ulath's man, " were run out of town for being a public nuisance a couple of nights ago. They apparently were holding some sort of service in the square in the middle of the night." He reached under his desk. "They left these behind," he said, laying a bundle on the desk. He opened it to reveal four bearskin tunics.

"How interesting. I wonder if these have any connection with the bear claw brand?" Tynian said.

"I don't doubt it," Sephrenia told him.

"Some new religious faction?" Sparhawk asked, hopeful that they had finally found the source.

"That might explain the attacks against Styrics."

"That might not have been racial in nature, Little Mother. We still only have two reported attacks."

"Yes but think what they're capable of."

"Well, whether they are or not is beside the point. We have some much-needed information. Not to mention the fact that we have gained a day. We should get back to the trail before it goes cold."

"Gained a day on what?" She asked him. "We don't even know who we are chasing."

"You know what I mean."

"Of course."

Sparhawk turned to Saretori. "Thank you, Governor. You've filled in a few holes for us."

"The least I could do, Your Highness." He paused and looked at Tynian. "If you see your mother soon, give her my regards."

"Of course, Governor."

"Tynian please. What happened to just Uncle?"

Tynian scowled at him. Saretori laughed. "Alright, I'll stop teasing you. Now go. And good luck."

"Thanks, Uncle," Tynian said grudgingly.

"Uncle?" Sparhawk asked Tynian as they went to find the others. "You said you knew him, not that you were related to him."

Tynian still looked slightly embarrassed. "My mother's youngest brother. He's no more than ten years older than I am, but he makes much of that fact. He's rather mischievous and loves to make a joke out of everything. He delights in teasing other people and adores the sound of his own voice."

Sephrenia cast a sidelong glance at Sparhawk. Sparhawk smirked.

"Why didn't you ask him about the gold, Sparhawk?" Tynian asked after a moment. Sparhawk took a while before answering. He really hadn't thought about it.

"Well, I think he would have shown it to me if he had any," he said lamely, trying to sort out his feelings toward the money. "Besides, it might be dangerous to flash strange gold about," he realized that was rather hollow. "I just didn't think it was really important." That sounded even worse. For some reason he was reluctant to produce it, lest it fall into the wrong hands.

Tynian and Sephrenia gave him odd looks but said nothing as they stepped outside. A peculiar scene greeted them. Kalten stood on the street with two other large men. They both had bristling beards and it appeared as if they had drunk a great deal. Kalten had an angry look on his face. Ehlana and the others stood behind him, with equally insulted expressions. The two men were unarmed, and Kalten had not unsheathed his sword, but he had pulled back his fist. Sparhawk knew that look. It had been the same look and the same fist that had broken his nose.

"Would you like to rephrase that?" the blonde knight demanded of one of the swaying men. "I wish you good luck, because I don't think there is any way for you to put it that won't land my fist in your teeth."

"Don't bother, Sir Kalten, just hit the drunken louts," Ehlana said haughtily from behind Vanion. "I've heard much worse before."

"I'll bet you have, strumpet," the man closest to Kalten belched. Suddenly he fell over backwards in the dirt clutching his nose. Kalten examined the back of his clenched fist. He made a face and carefully wiped his knuckles on his pants.

Sparhawk came up next to him. "Excuse me," he said to the still standing ruffian. "What exactly were you saying about my wife?" The man's eyes grew wide. He appeared slightly less drunk than his companion, who still lay in the dirt of the street, one hand to his face. Quickly he grabbed his friend by the shoulder and tried to pull him to his feet. They were both barefoot, and as they struggled, Sparhawk noticed a pattern on the fallen man's foot. He squinted at it, but the man had stood before he could make it out. It could have been a bear claw, but he couldn't be sure, and he didn't think he could get anything out of them anyway. He watched them shuffle down the street. He was getting really tired of wild goose chases.

There was a large stretch of open grassland above Amaunae, running for about sixty leagues north until reaching the fairly large business town of Megiddo. Sparhawk looked at his ever-present map with disgust. It was beautiful territory, but it would be a while before they would receive confirmation that their target had not changed direction in these plains. In that time all traces could be lost. On the other hand, if they decided to search these lowlands and vales they might very well run around in circles for the rest of the year. Their choice was quite clear, but Sparhawk still did not like it.

They started out in late afternoon and rode until it was quite dark. The moon was full and bright, casting a hazy luminescence over the hills that made stopping seem unprofitable. Finally Sparhawk called a halt and they set up camp for the night. He fell asleep almost immediately, although he had not felt overly weary.

Something happened then that had not happened for many years. Sparhawk began to dream.

He was standing in the back of a large room that seemed to be underground. The four others in the room paid him no attention. They were figures much like the scarred assassin and they seemed to be arguing. One of the figures had a purple lined hood the others wore green-lined hoods. The one with the purple hood had drawn something on the floor and was trying to point something out to his three companions. He gave the impression that he was in charge, and that the men in green hoods were his subordinates. Suddenly all talk broke off as Purple-hood began to make gestures with his hands. Sparhawk's head suddenly began to pound as he heard, and felt, a strange surge that seemed to drain all energy from him. A swirl of grey clouded the room as the green hoods also began to chant. Sparhawk was somehow drawn towards the diagram on the floor that the men were standing around. He tried to grab something, to stop himself, but the rest of the room appeared to be insubstantial. Sparhawk grabbed for one of the green hooded men's robes but his fingers slid through the cloth as if it wasn't there. Sparhawk's foot touched the drawing on the floor. His head exploded with a wrenching pain, and with a strangled cry he awoke.

He found Danae looking him worriedly in the face. "Are you alright father?" she asked. Sparhawk sat up, shaking. He glanced at Ehlana. She was still asleep. She appeared to be alright. He nodded. "That was a very odd dream," she told him. "I don't have any idea what kind of magic the people in it were using. It didn't seem to be addressed to any god that I've ever heard of."

"What did it mean?" Sparhawk asked with a dry whisper.

"It's alright, Sparhawk, Mother won't wake up. She almost did when you started thrashing around."

"You saw it, then?" Things like this no longer surprised him.

"Most of it. I was kind of seeing it through a wall." She sighed. "I don't know what it means, Sparhawk. It was a little frightening though."

Sparhawk shook his head. "I don't know if I can go back to sleep."

"Try. I'll be here, Father."

"Usually it's the other way around," he told her. "I should be comforting you." He lay back down. She took his head in her lap and wrapped her arms around him.

"Sleep, Father," she murmured. And he did just that. This time he did not dream.

The next day dawned clear and warm. It was nearing the end of summer, though this day seemed like the beginning of spring. Dew clung to the grass all around them and flipped up from the hooves of their horses. The terrain around them had changed a little since the night before. In the daylight there appeared to be more trees, and the hills surrounded a wide vale that Sparhawk had not noticed in the darkness. As he rode, he began to feel a little better about their journey. He desperately wanted to lead a normal simple life, but perhaps that was just not an option for him. He resigned himself to this thought and was surprised by the feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction that it created. He watched the grass and trees and fields of flowers slide by as they rode north. Birds flew in clusters so thick at times they looked like clouds of flapping wings. Entire fields of flowers sprang into life as butterflies at their passing. Deer and rabbits, as tame as house pets, stared at them as they rode by. This was perhaps the most beautiful country he had ever seen.

They rode down the hills toward the green basin in the sparkling sun of new morning. "Kind of reminds me of Flute's haven," Talen mused. Sparhawk agreed. He half expected to see the lolling tigers, or look into the liquid eyes of the gentle white hind that was his companion in that little heaven. He almost could feel the touch of Flute's little hand in his, could almost hear her pipes.

"What's that?" Kalten asked, squinting ahead of them.

"What?" Sparhawk also squinted.

"That big patch of dark green right in the middle there." He pointed to the center of the vale.

"Impossible," Bevier breathed. "It's a tree."

"From this distance? You can make that out from here?" Khalad demanded.

"It is a tree!" Talen exclaimed. "It's got to be huge if we can see it like this from here. We're leagues away from it."

"It may be just a cluster of trees growing really close together," Vanion offered.

"I don't think so, my Lord. I can only make out one trunk. Although who knows at this distance."

"I'm curious," Tynian said, shifting his hold on the reins as if eager to run down the hill.

"So am I," Bevier agreed. "Let's go find out what it is. It may be a good place to camp." He was almost laughing in his excitement.

Sparhawk could feel the giddiness that seemed to have suddenly filled them all. He galloped along with them down the side of the broad hill. Faran seemed almost to float through the springtime feel of the air around them.

"Even at this speed it will probably take us over an hour to reach it," He shouted.

"So?" Ulath said simply. Even the huge Genidian looked impatient to reach the monolithic tree. The party barreled down the grassy swale with childlike abandon. It seemed no harm could come to them here so caution was unnecessary.

Suddenly Sparhawk saw something in their path. He pulled tightly on Faran's reins, trying to keep the huge horse from surging straight into whatever it was. "Halt!" he cried at the others. Their horses all skidded to a stop and Ehlana almost flew from her saddle.

Sparhawk stared at what was before him. Two small children, twins, sat all unconcerned on the backs of two huge wolves. They blinked at Sparhawk and his companions in calm surprise for a moment, then one turned to the other and said something Sparhawk did not catch. The child giggled and pulled on the ear of the wolf on which it rode. Then as suddenly as they had appeared, the wolves and their riders moved silently into the trees.

Sparhawk slowly dismounted and laid a hand on Faran's quivering neck. He looked around at the patches of woods around them. "Maybe we should be a bit more cautious," he said, made slightly uneasy by what had just happened and berating himself for losing his sense of responsibility for their safety.

"Should we stop here?" Tynian asked. "Maybe one or two of us can scout out what's ahead before we take the ladies into someplace possibly dangerous." He also seemed shaken. "I've ridden through this area before, Sparhawk," he said, "and I've never seen anything like that. Maybe Flute's playing tricks. It be nice to see her again, but we should be on our guard."

Sparhawk glanced at Danae, but her expression was a baffled as the others. He nodded. "Why don't we all dismount? There are wolves here and they don't seem all that shy. I don't particularly want anyone thrown today." The others slid from their horses.

"Do you want to head for the trees, Sparhawk?" Ehlana asked nervously, putting her arm around Danae.

Sparhawk looked towards the clumps of trees around them. He caught glimpses of dark furry bodies crouched low to the ground slinking through them.

"I think staying in the open would be better right now, dear."

Bevier drew his sword. "Don't do anything yet," Sparhawk cautioned him. "We'll continue on northward slowly on foot. With this many wolves in this area the horses may be more a danger to us."

They moved on cautiously. Sparhawk did not draw his sword, but walked with one hand on the hilt. The other hand held Faran's reins in a grip like steel.

They had perhaps gone a half-mile in this manner when two wolves appeared in front of them. They appeared to be the ones they had seen before, though now riderless. Faran began to paw at the turf with one hoof and Bevier's chestnut reared up. The other horses did not look any less calm.

The wolves sat quietly on their haunches. One of them, a male, was huge and grey, his face shot with silver. His companion was a tawny female. Neither showed any hint of attack, or even aggressiveness, although they were also on their guard. Sparhawk tightened his grip on his sword nonetheless.

The wolves looked at each other for a long moment. Then they stared at Sparhawk and his companions. Sparhawk had never seen wolves act this way, and was beginning to think about drawing his sword when the grey wolf stood. Then a very peculiar thing happened. In a seeming swirl of fog, the wolf turned into a man.

"All right, who are you and what are you doing here?"