‘Lillias isn’t dangerous in that particular way.’ ‘We’re talking about a woman, I gather.’ It was obvious that Kurik did not intend to be put off. Sparhawk made a sour face ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I was here in Jiroch for ten years. Voren set me up in a little shop where I went by the name Mahkra. The idea was that I could drop out of sight so that Martel’s hirelings couldn’t find me. In order to keep busy, I gathered information for Voren. To do that, I needed to look like all the other merchants on that street. They all had mistresses, so I needed one, too. Her name was Lillias. Satisfied?’

‘That was quick. The lady has a short temper, I take it?’

‘No, Kurik. She has a very long one. Lillias is the kind of woman who nurses grudges.’

‘Oh, that kind. I’d like to meet her’

‘No, you wouldn’t. I don’t think you’d care for all the screaming and dramatics.’

‘That bad?’

‘Why do you think I slipped out of town in the middle of the night? Do you suppose we could drop this?’ Kurik started to chuckle ‘Excuse me for laughing, my Lord,’ he said, ‘but as I recall, you weren’t exactly brimming with sympathy when I told you about my indiscretion with Talen’s mother’

‘All right. We’re even, then.’ Sparhawk clamped his lips shut and rode on, ignoring Kurik’s laughter

The docks that jutted out into the muddy flow of the Gule River were rickety affairs and they were draped with smelly fishnets. Dozens of the wide-beamed river boats that plied the stream between Jiroch and Dabour were moored to them. Dark-skinned sailors clad in loincloths and with cloths wound about their heads lounged on their decks. Sparhawk dismounted and approached an evil-looking one-eyed man in a loose-fitting, striped robe. The one-eyed man stood on the dock bawling orders at a lazy-looking trio of sailors aboard a mud-smeared scow.

‘Your boat?’ the knight asked.

‘What of it?’

‘Is it for hire?’

‘That depends on the price’

‘We can work that out. How many days to Dabour?’

‘Three, maybe four days, depending on the wind.’ The captain was assessing Sparhawk and the others with his good eye. His surly expression changed, and he smiled an oily smile ‘Why don’t we talk about the price, noble sir?’ he suggested.

Sparhawk made some pretence at haggling, then dipped into the pouch of coins Voren had given him and counted silver into the riverman’s grimy hand. The man’s single eye came alight when he saw the pouch.

They boarded the boat and tethered their horses amidships as the three sailors slipped the hawsers, pushed the boat out into the current, and raised the single, slanted sail. The river was sluggish, and the stiff onshore breeze blowing in off the Arcian Strait pushed them upstream against the current at a goodly speed.