‘The last I heard, she was, but that’s not the point. The whole thing is that you said your farewells – and left your bequest in a note. You didn’t give her the chance to scream, weep, and threaten to kill herself.’

‘That was sort of the idea.’

‘You were terribly unkind to her, my friend. Lillias thrives on high drama; when you slipped out in the middle of the night the way you did, you robbed her of a wonderful opportunity for histrionics.’ Voren was grinning openly

‘Do you really have to pursue this?’

‘I’m just trying to give you a friendly warning, Sparhawk. All you’ll have to face at Dabour are several thousand howling fanatics. Here in Jiroch, you’ll have to face Lillias, and she’s much, much more dangerous.’

Chapter 21

They left Voren’s house quietly about half an hour later. Sparhawk looked closely at Sephrenia as they mounted their horses. Although it was scarcely past noon, she already looked weary. ‘Could this thing that’s after us stir up a waterspout on the river?’ he asked her.

She frowned. ‘It’s hard to say,’ she replied. ‘Normally, I’d say no, there’s not enough open water. But the creatures of the underworld can overcome some natural laws if they choose.’ She thought a moment. ‘How wide is the river here?’ she asked.

‘Not very,’ he replied. ‘There’s not enough water in the whole of Rendor to make a wide river.’

‘The river banks would make it very hard to direct a spout,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘You saw how erratically the one that destroyed Mabin’s ship was moving.’

‘We’ll have to chance it, then,’ he said. ‘You’re too exhausted to ride all the way to Dabour, and it’s going to get hotter as we ride south.’

‘Don’t take unnecessary chances just for my sake, Sparhawk.’

‘It’s not entirely for your sake,’ he told her. ‘We’ve lost a lot of time already, and going by boat is faster than riding. We’ll stay close to the river bank in case we need to get off the boat in a hurry.’

‘Whatever you think best,’ she said, slumping slightly in her saddle

They rode out into the teeming street where black-robed nomads from the desert mingled with the more brightly garbed city dwellers and the merchants from the northern kingdoms. The street was filled with noise and with those peculiarly Rendorish scents spices, perfumes and the pervading odour of smoking olive oil.

‘Who’s this Lillias?’ Kurik asked curiously as they rode down along the street towards the river.

‘It’s not important,’ Sparhawk replied shortly

‘If this person is dangerous, I’d say that it’s fairly important for me to know about it.’