‘He’s been bound in a spell,’ the Genidian Knight reported. ‘Nothing we could have done to him would have made him talk.’

The mercenary went on in that dreadful language, speaking more rapidly now.

There were two who hired him,’ Ulath translated, ‘a hooded Styric and a man with white hair.’

‘Martel!’ Kalten exclaimed.

‘Very likely,’ Sparhawk agreed.

The prisoner spoke again.

‘It was the Styric who put the spell on him,’ Ulath said. ‘It’s one I’m not familiar with.’

‘I don’t think I am either,’ Sparhawk admitted. ‘We’ll see if Sephrenia knows it.’

‘Oh,’ Ulath added, ‘that’s one other thing. This attack was directed at her.’

‘What?’

The orders these men had were to kill the Styric woman.’

‘Kalten!’ Sparhawk barked, but the blond man was already spurring his horse.

‘What about him?’ Tynian pointed at the prisoner.

‘Let him go,’ Sparhawk shouted as he galloped off after Kalten. ‘Come on!’

As they rode over the hilltop, Sparhawk looked back. The two strange Pandions were nowhere in sight. Then, up ahead, he saw them. A group of men had surrounded the rocky knoll where Kurik had hidden Sephrenia and the others. The two black-armoured knights were sitting on their horses coolly between the attackers and the knoll. They were making no effort to fight, but merely stood their ground. As Sparhawk watched, one of the attackers launched a javelin which appeared to pass directly through the body of one of the black-armoured Pandions with no visible effect.

‘Faran!’ Sparhawk barked. ‘Run!’ It was something he seldom did. He called upon Faran’s loyalty instead of his training. The big horse shuddered slightly, then stretched himself out in a run that quickly outdistanced the others.

The attackers numbered perhaps ten men. They were recoiling visibly from the two shadowy Pandions blocking their path. Then one of them looked around and saw Sparhawk descending upon them with the others rushing along behind him, and he shouted a warning. After a moment of stunned paralysis, the shabby attackers bolted, fleeing across the meadow, fleeing in a kind of panic Sparhawk had seldom seen in professionals. He charged up the side of the outcrop with Faran’s steel-shod hooves striking sparks from the stones. Just below the crest, he reined in. ‘Is everybody all right?’ he called to Kurik.

‘We’re fine,’ Kurik replied, looking over the hasty breastwork of stone he and Berit had erected. ‘It was touch and go until those two knights got here, though.’ Kurik’s eyes looked a bit wild as he stared at the pair who had warded off the assailants. Sephrenia came up to the breastwork beside him, and her face was deathly pale.

Sparhawk turned to the two strange Pandions. ‘I think it’s time for introductions, brothers,’ he said, ‘and some explanations.’