‘A pair of swords. They’re a part of the burden I bear.’

‘It’s a pretty large box for only two swords.’

‘There’ll be others, I’m afraid.’ She sighed, then began to wrap Sparhawk’s hand with a strip of linen cloth.

‘It doesn’t need a bandage, Sephrenia,’ he objected. ‘It was only a splinter.’

She gave him a long, steady stare.

He gave up. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Do whatever you think is best.’

‘Thank you.’ She tied the end of the bandage.

‘You’ll send word to Larium then, my Lord?’ Sparhawk asked the abbot.

‘On the next ship that leaves the harbour, Sir Sparhawk.’

Sparhawk thought a moment. ‘I don’t think we’ll be going back to Madel,’ he said. ‘We have some companions staying at the house of the Marquis Lycien there.’

The abbot nodded. ‘I know him,’ he said.

‘Could you get word to them as well? Tell them that if everything works out at Dabour, we’ll be going home from there. I think they might as well go on back to Cimmura.’

‘I’ll see to it, Sparhawk.’

Sparhawk tugged thoughtfully at the knot on his bandage.

‘Leave it alone,’ Sephrenia told him.

He took his hand away. ‘I’m not trying to tell the preceptors what to do,’ he said to the abbot, ‘but you might suggest in your message that a few small contingents of Church Knights in the streets of Rendorish cities right now might remind the local population of just how unpleasant things can get if they pay too much attention to all these rumours.’

‘And head off the need for whole armies later on,’ the abbot agreed. ‘I’ll definitely mention it in my report.’

Sparhawk rose to his feet, ‘I’m in your debt again, my Lord Abbot,’ he said. ‘You always seem to be here when I need you.’

‘We serve the same master, Sparhawk,’ the abbot replied. He grinned then. ‘Besides,’ he added, ‘I sort of like you. You Pandions don’t always do things the way we would, but you get results, and that’s what counts, isn’t it?’

‘We can hope.’

‘Be careful in the desert, my friend, and good luck.’ ‘Thank you, my Lord.’

They went down to the central court of the monastery as the bells began to chime their call to morning prayers. Kurik tied Sephrenia’s sword case to the pack mule’s saddle, and they all mounted. Then they rode out through the front gate with the sound of the bells hovering in the air above them.

Sparhawk’s mood was pensive as they reached the dusty coast road and turned west towards Jiroch.

‘What is it, Sparhawk?’ Sephrenia asked him.