The Complete Elenium Trilogy: The Diamond Throne, The Ruby Knight, The Sapphire Rose. David Eddings

nodded and followed her down the companionway.

      Kurik had lighted a single oil lamp, and it swung from a low overhead beam, filling the small, dark-panelled compartment with swaying shadows. Flute had awakened, and she sat at the bolted-down table in the centre of the cabin, looking suspiciously at the bowl sitting in front of her.

      ‘It’s just stew, little girl,’ Kurik was saying to her. ‘It won’t hurt you.’

      She delicately dipped her fingers into the thick gravy and lifted out a dripping chunk of meat. She sniffed at it, then looked questioningly at the squire.

      ‘Salt pork,’ he told her.

      She shuddered and dropped the chunk back into the gravy. Then she firmly pushed the bowl away.

      ‘Styrics don’t eat pork, Kurik,’ Sephrenia told him.

      ‘The ship’s cook said that this is what the sailors eat,’ he said defensively. He looked at Sparhawk. ‘Was the captain able to find any survivors from the other ship?’

      Sparhawk shook his head. ‘That waterspout tore it all to pieces. The same thing probably happened to the crew.’

      ‘It’s lucky we weren’t on board that one.’

      ‘Very lucky,’ Sephrenia agreed. ‘Waterspouts are like tornadoes. They don’t appear out of completely clear skies, and they don’t move against the wind or change direction the way that one did. It was being consciously directed.’

      ‘Magic?’ Kurik said. ‘Is that really possible – to call up weather like that, I mean?’

      ‘I don’t think I could do it.’

      ‘Who did then?’

      ‘I don’t know for certain.’ Her eyes, however, showed a certain suspicion.

      ‘Let’s get it out into the open, Sephrenia,’ Sparhawk said. ‘You’ve guessed something, haven’t you?’

      Her expression grew a bit more certain. ‘In the past few months we’ve had several encounters with a hooded figure in a Styric robe. You saw it several times in Cimmura, and it tried to have us ambushed on our way to Borrata. Styrics seldom cover their faces. Have you ever noticed that?’

      ‘Yes, but I don’t quite make the connection.’

      ‘This thing had to cover its face, Sparhawk. It’s not human.’

      He stared at her. ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘I can’t be absolutely positive until I see its face, but the evidence is beginning to pile up, wouldn’t you say?’

      ‘Could Annias actually do something like that?’

      ‘It’s not Annias. He might know a little rudimentary magic, but he couldn’t begin to raise a thing like that. Only Azash could have done it. He’s the only one who dares to summon such beings. The Younger Gods will not, and even the other Elder Gods have forsworn the practice.’

      ‘Why would Azash want to kill Captain Mabin and his crew?’

      ‘The ship was destroyed because the creature thought that we were on board.’

      ‘That goes a little far, Sephrenia,’ Kurik objected sceptically. ‘If it’s so powerful, why did it sink the wrong boat?’

      ‘The creatures of the underworld are not very sophisticated, Kurik,’ she replied. ‘Our simple ruse may have deceived it. Power and wisdom don’t always go hand in hand. Many of the greatest magicians of Styricum were as stupid as stumps.’

      ‘I don’t quite follow this,’ Sparhawk admitted with a puzzled frown. ‘What we’re doing has nothing to do with Zemoch. Why would Azash go out of his way to help Annias?’

      ‘It may be that there isn’t any connection. Azash always has his own motives. It’s quite possible that what he’s doing has nothing to do with Annias at all.’

      ‘It doesn’t wash, Sephrenia. If you’re right about this thing, it’s been working for Martel, and Martel works for Annias.’

      ‘Are you so sure that the creature is working for Martel and not the other way around? Azash can see the shadows of the future. One of us might be a danger to him. The seeming alliance between Martel and the creature may be no more than a matter of convenience.’

      He began to gnaw worriedly at a fingernail. ‘That’s all I need,’ he said, ‘something else to worry about.’ Then a thought struck him. ‘Wait a minute. Do you remember what the ghost of Lakus said – that darkness was at the gate and that Ehlana was our only hope of light? Could Azash be that darkness?’

      She nodded. ‘It’s possible.’

      ‘If that’s the case, then wouldn’t it be Ehlana he’s trying to destroy? She’s totally protected by that crystal that encases her, but if something happens to us before we can find a way to heal her, she’ll die, too. Maybe that’s why Azash has joined forces with the primate.’

      ‘Aren’t you both stretching things a bit?’ Kurik asked. ‘You’re basing a great deal of speculation on a single incident.’

      ‘It doesn’t hurt to be ready for eventualities, Kurik,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘I hate surprises.’

      The squire grunted and rose to his feet. ‘You two must be hungry,’ he said. ‘I’ll go down to the galley and get you some supper. We can talk some more while you’re eating.’

      ‘No pork,’ Sephrenia told him firmly.

      ‘Bread and cheese, then?’ he suggested. ‘And maybe some fruit?’

      ‘That would be fine, Kurik. You’d probably better bring enough for Flute as well. I know she’s not going to eat that stew.’

      ‘That’s all right,’ he said. ‘I’ll eat it for her. I don’t have the same kind of prejudices that you Styrics do.’

      It was overcast when they reached the port city of Cippria three days later. The cloud cover was high and thin, and there was no trace of moisture in it. The city was low, with squat white buildings thickly walled to ward off the heat of the southern sun. The wharves jutting out into the harbour were constructed of stone, since Rendor was a kingdom largely devoid of trees.

      Sparhawk and the others came up on deck, wearing hooded black robes, just as the sailors were mooring Captain Sorgi’s ship to one of the wharves. They went up the three steps to the quarterdeck to join the curly-haired seaman.

      ‘Get some fenders between our side and that wharf!’ Sorgi roared at the seamen who were snubbing off the mooring lines. He shook his head in disgust. ‘I have to tell them that every single time we dock,’ he muttered. ‘All they can think about when we make port is the nearest alehouse.’ He looked at Sparhawk. ‘Well, Master Cluff,’ he said. ‘Have you changed your mind?’

      ‘I’m afraid not, Captain,’ Sparhawk replied, setting down the bundle containing his spare clothing. ‘I’d like to oblige you, but the lady I mentioned seems to have all her hopes pinned on me. It’s for your own good, actually. If you show up at her house with an introduction from me, her cousins might decide to wring my location out of you. Being wrung is not my idea of a good time. Besides, I don’t want to take any chances.’

      Sorgi grunted. Then he looked at them all curiously. ‘Where did you come by the Rendorish clothing?’

      ‘I did some bargaining in your forecastle yesterday.’ Sparhawk shrugged, plucking at the front of the hooded black robe he wore. ‘Some of your sailors like to be unobtrusive when they make port here in Rendor.’

      ‘How well I know,’ Sorgi said wryly. ‘I spent three days looking for the ship’s cook the last time I was in Jiroch.’ He looked at Sephrenia, who was also robed in black and wore a heavy veil across her face. ‘Where did you find anything to fit her?’ he asked. ‘None