They had, however, no opportunity for side trips. The officious captain insisted upon escorting them directly back to the chapterhouse. ‘Sir Sparhawk,’ he said as they reached the narrow street where the house stood, ‘you will be so good as to advise the governor of your establishment that this gate is to remain closed. No one is to enter or leave.’

‘I’ll tell him,’ Sparhawk replied. Then he nudged Faran and rode on into the courtyard.

‘I didn’t think he’d actually seal the gate,’ Kalten muttered. ‘How are we going to get word to Dolmant?’

‘I’ll think of something,’ Sparhawk said.

Later, as twilight crept in over the city, Sparhawk paced along the parapet surmounting the wall of the chapterhouse, glancing from time to time down into the street outside.

‘Sparhawk,’ Kurik’s gruff voice came from the yard below, ‘are you up there?’

‘Yes. Come on up.’

There was the sound of footsteps on the stone stairs leading up to the parapet. ‘You wanted to see us?’ Kurik asked as he, Berit, and Talen came up out of the shadows clotting the stairway.

‘Yes. There’s a company of church soldiers outside. They’re blocking the gate, and I need to get a message to Dolmant. Any ideas?’

Kurik scratched his head as he mulled it over.

‘Give me a fast horse and I can ride through them,’ Berit offered.

‘He’ll make a good knight,’ Talen said. ‘Knights love to charge, I’m told.’

Berit looked sharply at the boy.

‘No hitting,’ Talen said, shrinking back. ‘We agreed that there wasn’t going to be any more hitting. I pay attention to the lessons, and you don’t hit me any more.’

‘Have you got a better idea?’ Berit asked.

‘Several.’ Talen looked over the wall. ‘Are the soldiers patrolling the streets outside the walls?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Sparhawk said.

‘That’s not really a problem, but it might have been easier if they weren’t.’ Talen pursed his lips as he thought it over. ‘Berit,’ he said, ‘are you any good with a bow?’

‘I’ve been trained,’ the voice said a bit stiffly.

‘That’s not what I asked. I said are you any good?’

‘I can hit a mark at a hundred paces.’

Talen looked at Sparhawk. ‘Don’t you people have anything better to do?’ he asked. Then he looked at Berit again. ‘You see that stable over there?’ he asked, pointing across the street. ‘The one with the thatched roof?’

‘Yes.’

‘Could you get an arrow into the thatch?’

‘Easily.’

‘Maybe training pays off after all.’

‘How many months did you practise cutting purses?’ Kurik asked pointedly.

‘That’s different, father. There’s a profit involved in that.’

‘Father?’ Berit sounded astonished.

‘It’s a long story,’ Kurik told him.