‘It’s probably the Bhelliom that’s keeping my creatures from locating Sparhawk.’

‘Wouldn’t Azash Himself be able to find out?’

‘I don’t give orders to Azash, Annias. If He wants me to know something, He tells me. It could just be that Bhelliom’s more powerful than He is. When we get to His temple, you can ask Him, if you’re really curious about it. The question might offend Him, but it’s entirely up to you.’

‘How far have we come today?’

‘No more than seven leagues. Our pace slowed noticeably after Adus ripped out his horse’s guts with his spurs.’

‘How far to the Zemoch border?’

Martel unrolled a map and consulted it. ‘I make it about fifty more leagues – five days or so. Sparhawk can’t be more than three days behind us, so we’ll have to keep up the pace.’

‘I’m exhausted, Martel. I can’t keep on going like this.’

‘Every time you start brooding about how tired you are, just imagine how it would feel to have Sparhawk’s sword sliding through your guts – or how exquisitely painful it’s going to be when Ehlana beheads you with a pair of sewing scissors – or a bread-knife.’

‘Sometimes I wish I’d never met you, Martel.’

‘The feeling’s entirely mutual, old boy. Once we cross the border into Zemoch, we should be able to slow Sparhawk down a bit. A few ambushes along the way ought to make him a bit more cautious.’

‘We were ordered not to kill him,’ Annias objected.

‘Don’t be an idiot. As long as he has Bhelliom, no human could possibly kill him. We were ordered not to kill him – even if we could – but Azash didn’t say anything about the others. The loss of a few of his companions might upset our invincible enemy. He doesn’t look very much like it, but Sparhawk’s a sentimentalist at heart. You’d better go and get some sleep. We’ll start out again just as soon as Adus gets back.’

‘In the dark?’ Annias sounded incredulous.

‘What’s the matter, Annias? Are you afraid of the dark? Think about swords in the belly or the sound of a bread-knife sawing on your neck bone. That should make you brave.’

‘Khwaj!’ Sparhawk said sharply. ‘Enough! Go away now!’

The fire returned to normal.

‘Blue-Rose!’ Sparhawk said then. ‘Bring the voice of Ghnomb to me!’

‘What are you doing?’ Sephrenia exclaimed, but Bhelliom had already started to respond. The pinpoint of light within the glowing blue petals was a sickly mixture of green and yellow, and Sparhawk suddenly had a foul taste in his mouth, a taste much like the smell of half-decayed meat.