‘Any chance at all?’ Kalten asked.

‘No,’ Sparhawk replied with deep regret as he lowered Sir Parasim to the ground. ‘He’s gone.’ He smoothed the young knight’s hair with his hand, then gently closed the vacant eyes.

‘He wasn’t ready to come up against Adus,’ Kalten said.

‘Did that animal get completely away?’

‘I’m afraid so. After he cut down Parasim, he rode off to the south with about a dozen other survivors.’

‘Send some people after him,’ Sparhawk said bleakly as he straightened the fallen Sir Parasim’s limbs. ‘Tell them to run him into the sea if necessary.’

‘Do you want me to do it?’

‘No. You and I have to go to Chyrellos.’ He raised his voice then. ‘Berit,’ he shouted.

The novice approached at a half-run. He was wearing an old mail shirt splashed with blood and a dented foot soldier’s helmet with no visor. He carried a grim, long-handled battle-axe.

Sparhawk looked closely at the blood on the rangy youth’s mail shirt. ‘Is any of that yours?’ he asked.

‘No, my Lord,’ Berit answered. ‘All theirs.’ He looked pointedly at the mercenary dead littering the field.

‘Good. What’s your feeling about a long ride?’

‘As my Lord commands.’

‘He’s got good manners, at least,’ Kalten observed. ‘Berit,’ he said then, ‘ask “Where?” before you agree so quickly.’

‘I’ll remember that, my Lord Kalten.’

‘I want you to come with me,’ Sparhawk said to the novice. ‘We need to talk with Count Radun before you leave.’ He turned to Kalten. ‘Get a group of men to chase Adus,’ he said. ‘Push him hard. I don’t want him to have time to send one of his people to Cimmura to report all of this to Annias. Tell the rest of the men to bury our dead and care for the wounded.’

‘What about these?’ Kalten pointed at the dead bodies of the mercenaries heaped in front of the castle walls.

‘Burn them.’

Count Radun met Sparhawk and Berit in the courtyard of his castle. He was wearing full armour and held his sword in his hand. ‘I see that the reputation of the Pandions is well deserved,’ he said.

‘Thank you, my Lord,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘I have a favour no, two favours – to ask of you.’

‘Anything, Sir Sparhawk.’

‘Are you known to any members of the Hierocracy in Chyrellos?’

‘Several, actually, and the Patriarch of Larium is a distant cousin of mine.’

‘Very good. I know it’s a bad season for travel, but I’d like you to join me in a little ride.’

‘Of course. Where are we going?’

‘To Chyrellos. The next favour is a bit more personal. I’ll need your signet ring.’

‘My ring?’ The count lifted his hand and looked at the heavy gold ring bearing his coat of arms.

Sparhawk nodded. ‘And worse yet, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to return it.’