‘Be careful in Zemoch, my friend,’ Stragen said seriously. ‘I’m very fond of your iron-willed young queen, and I’d rather you didn’t break her heart by doing something stupid. Also, if Talen tells you something, pay attention to him. I know he’s just a boy – and a thief to boot – but he has very good instincts and a rather astounding mind. It’s altogether possible that he’s the most intelligent person either of us will ever meet. Besides, he’s lucky. Don’t lose, Sparhawk. I don’t much feature bowing down to Azash.’ He made a face. ‘Enough of that. I’ve got a maudlin streak in me sometimes. Let’s go back inside and crack open a flagon or two for old times’ sake – unless you want to read your mail.’

‘I think I’ll save it. I may get downhearted somewhere in Zemoch, and I’ll need something to lift my spirits at that point.’

The clouds had once again obscured the moon as they gathered early the next morning. Sparhawk sketched in their route, laying some stress on the landmarks Kring had mentioned. Then they mounted and rode out of the camp.

The darkness was so dense as to be virtually impenetrable. ‘We could be riding around in circles out here, you know,’ Kalten complained, his voice slightly sullen. Kalten had sat up late with the Peloi the previous evening, and his eyes had been bloodshot and his hands palsied when Sparhawk had awakened him.

‘Just keep riding, Kalten,’ Sephrenia told him.

‘Of course,’ he said sarcastically, ‘but which way?’

‘Southeast.’

‘Fine, but which way is southeast?’

‘That way.’ She pointed off into the darkness.

‘How do you know?’

She spoke rapidly to him in Styric for a moment. ‘There,’ she said. ‘That should explain everything to you.’

‘Little mother, I didn’t understand one single word you said.’

‘That’s not my fault, dear one.’

The dawn came slowly that morning, since the cloudbanks lying to the east were particularly dense. As they rode south, they began to see the outlines of ragged peaks lying leagues off to the east – peaks which could only be in Zemoch.

It was late in the morning when Kurik reined in. ‘There’s that red peak you mentioned, Sparhawk,’ he said, pointing.

‘It looks as if it’s bleeding, doesn’t it?’ Kalten observed. ‘Or is that just my eyes?’

‘A little of each perhaps, Kalten,’ Sephrenia said. ‘You shouldn’t have drunk so much ale last night.’

‘You should have told me about that last night, little mother,’ he said mournfully.

‘Very well then, gentlemen,’ she said, ‘it’s time for you to change clothing, I think. Your armour might be a bit ostentatious in Zemoch. Put on your mail-shirts if you must, but I have Styric smocks for each of you. After you’ve changed, I’ll do something about your faces.’