The Sapphire Rose. David Eddings

she replied in a coarse, nasal voice that sounded much like the squeal of a pig.

      ‘Ah yes, Countess, but vertical dancing is in vogue just now. The horizontal form hasn’t yet caught on in the more fashionable circles, and we do want to be stylish, don’t we?’ He turned to Tel. ‘Your services this evening have been stupendous, my dear Marquis,’ he said to the blond man. ‘I doubt that I shall ever be able to adequately repay you.’ He languidly lifted a perfumed handkerchief to his nostrils.

      ‘That I have been able to serve is payment enough, Milord,’ Tel replied with a low bow.

      ‘Very good, Tel,’ Stragen approved. ‘I may yet bestow an earldom upon you.’ He turned and led Sparhawk and Sephrenia from the ballroom. Once they were in the corridor outside, his manner changed abruptly. The veneer of affectedly bored gentility dropped away, and his eyes became alert, hard. They were the eyes of a very dangerous man. ‘Does our little charade puzzle you, Sparhawk?’ he asked. ‘Maybe you feel that those in our profession should be housed in places like Platime’s cellar in Cimmura or Meland’s loft in Acie?’

      ‘It’s more commonplace, Milord,’ Sparhawk replied cautiously.

      ‘We can drop the “Milord”, Sparhawk. It’s an affectation – at least partially. All of this has a more serious purpose than satisfying some obscure personal quirk of mine, though. The gentry has access to far more wealth than the commons, so I train my associates to prey upon the rich and idle rather than the poor and industrious. It’s more profitable in the long run. This current group has a long way to go, though, I’m afraid. Tel’s coming along rather well, but I despair of ever making a lady of the countess. She has the soul of a whore, and that voice –,’ he shuddered.

      ‘Anyway, I train my people to assume spurious titles and to mouth little civilities to each other in preparation for more serious business. We’re all still thieves, whores and cut-throats, of course, but we deal with a better class of customers.’

      They entered a large, well-lit room to find Kurik and Talen sitting together on a large divan. ‘Did you have a pleasant journey, My Lord?’ Talen asked Sparhawk in a voice that had just a slight edge of resentment to it. The boy was dressed in a formal doublet and hose, and for the first time since Sparhawk had met him, his hair was combed. He rose and bowed gracefully to Sephrenia. ‘Little mother,’ he greeted her.

      ‘I see you’ve been tampering with our wayward boy, Stragen,’ she observed.

      ‘His Grace had a few rough edges when he first came to us, dear lady,’ the elegant ruffian told her. ‘I took the liberty of polishing him a bit.’

      ‘His Grace?’ Sparhawk asked curiously.

      ‘I have certain advantages, Sparhawk,’ Stragen laughed. ‘When nature – or blind chance – bestows a title, she has no way to consider the character of the recipient and to match the eminence to the man. I, on the other hand, can observe the true nature of the person involved and can select the proper adornment of rank. I saw at once that young Talen here is an extraordinary youth, so I bestowed a duchy upon him. Give me three more months, and I could present him at a court.’ He sat down in a large, comfortable chair. ‘Please, friends, find places to sit, and then you can tell me how I can be of further service to you.’

      Sparhawk held a chair for Sephrenia and then took a seat not far from their host. ‘What we really need at the moment, neighbour, is a ship to carry us to the north coast of Deira.’

      ‘That’s what I wanted to discuss with you, Sparhawk. Our excellent young thief here tells me that your ultimate goal is Cimmura, and he also tells me that there may be some unpleasantness awaiting you in the northern kingdoms. Our tipsy monarch is a man much in need of friends, and he bitterly resents defections. As I understand it, he’s presently displeased with you. All manner of unflattering descriptions are being circulated in western Eosia. Wouldn’t it be faster – and safer – to sail directly to Cardos and go on to Cimmura from there?’

      Sparhawk considered that. ‘I was thinking of landing on some lonely beach in Deira and going south through the mountains.’

      ‘That’s a tedious way to travel, Sparhawk, and a very dangerous one for a man on the run. There are lonely beaches on every coast, and I’m sure we can find a suitable one for you near Cardos.’

      ‘We?’

      ‘I think I’ll go along. I like you, Sparhawk, even though we’ve only just met. Besides, I need to talk some business with Platime anyway.’ He rose to his feet then. ‘I’ll have a ship waiting in the harbour by dawn. Now I’ll leave you. I’m sure you’re tired and hungry after your journey, and I’d better return to the ball before our over-enthusiastic countess sets up shop in the middle of the ballroom floor again.’ He bowed to Sephrenia. ‘I bid you good night, dear sister,’ he said to her in Styric. ‘Sleep well.’ He nodded to Sparhawk and quietly left the room.

      Kurik rose, went to the door and listened. ‘I don’t think that man’s entirely sane, Sparhawk,’ he said in a low voice.

      ‘Oh, he’s sane enough,’ Talen disagreed. ‘He’s got some strange ideas, but some of them might even work.’ The boy came over to Sparhawk. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘let me see it.’

      ‘See what?’

      ‘The Bhelliom. I risked my life several times to help steal it, and then I got disinvited to go along at the last minute. I think I’m at least entitled to take a look at it.’

      ‘Is it safe?’ Sparhawk asked Sephrenia.

      ‘I don’t really know, Sparhawk. The rings will control it, though – at least partially. Just a brief look, Talen. It’s very dangerous.’

      ‘A jewel is a jewel,’ Talen shrugged. ‘They’re all dangerous. Anything one man wants, another is likely to try to steal, and that’s the sort of thing that leads to killing. Give me gold every time. It all looks the same, and you can spend it anywhere. Jewels are hard to convert into money, and people usually spend all their time trying to protect them, and that’s really inconvenient. Let’s see it, Sparhawk.’

      Sparhawk took out the pouch and picked open the knot. Then he shook the glowing blue rose into the palm of his right hand. Once again a brief flicker darkened the edge of his vision, and a chill passed over him. For some reason the flicker of the shadow brought the memory of the nightmare sharply back, and he could almost feel the hovering presence of those obscurely menacing shapes which had haunted his sleep that night a week ago.

      ‘God!’ Talen exclaimed. ‘That’s incredible.’ He stared at the jewel for a moment, and then he shuddered. ‘Put it away, Sparhawk. I don’t want to look at it any more.’

      Sparhawk slipped Bhelliom back into its pouch.

      ‘It really ought to be blood-red, though,’ Talen said moodily. ‘Look at all the people who’ve died over it.’ He looked at Sephrenia. ‘Was Flute really a Goddess?’

      ‘Kurik told you about that, I see. Yes, she was – and is – one of the Younger Gods of Styricum.’

      ‘I liked her,’ the boy admitted, ‘– when she wasn’t teasing me. But if she’s a God – or Goddess – she could be any age she wanted to be, couldn’t she?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘Why a child then?’

      ‘People are more truthful with children.’

      ‘I’ve never particularly noticed that.’

      ‘Aphrael’s more lovable than you are, Talen,’ she smiled, ‘and that may be the real reason behind her choice of form. She needs love – all Gods do, even Azash. People tend to pick little girls up and kiss them. Aphrael enjoys being kissed.’

      ‘Nobody ever kissed me all that much.’

      ‘That may come in time, Talen – if you behave yourself.’