‘Maybe you’re right,’ Sparhawk admitted, ‘but it’s too late now, I’m afraid. Olven’s far out of reach. About all we can do is make a run for it and hope the soldiers’ horses tire before ours do. When we get a chance, I’ll want to talk with Sephrenia some more about that Seeker. I’ve got a feeling there were some things about it she wasn’t telling me.’
They rode hard for the rest of the day and saw no signs that the soldiers were anywhere behind them.
‘There’s a roadside inn just ahead,’ Kalten said as evening settled over the rolling countryside. ‘Do you want to chance it?’
Sparhawk looked at Sephrenia. ‘What do you think?’
‘Only for a few hours,’ she said, ‘just long enough to feed the horses and give them some rest. The Seeker will know that we’re not with that column by now, and it’s certain to be following our trail. We have to move on.’
‘We could at least get some supper,’ Kalten added, ‘and maybe a couple of hours’ sleep. I’ve been up for a long time. Besides, we might be able to pick up some information if we ask the right questions.’
The inn was run by a thin, good-humoured fellow and his plump, jolly wife. It was a comfortable place and meticulously clean. The broad fireplace at one end of the common-room did not smoke, and there were fresh rushes on the floor.
‘We don’t see many city folk this far out in the country,’ the innkeeper noted as he brought a platter of roast beef to the table, ‘- and very seldom any knights – at least I judge from your garb that you’re knights. What brings you this way, My Lords?’
‘We’re on our way to Pelosia,’ Kalten lied easily. ‘Church business. We’re in a hurry, so we decided to cut across country.’
‘There’s a road that runs on up into Pelosia about three leagues to the south,’ the innkeeper advised helpfully.
‘Roads wander around a lot,’ Kalten said, ‘and like I told you, we’re in a hurry.’
‘Anything interesting happening hereabouts?’ Tynian asked as if only mildly curious.
The innkeeper laughed wryly. ‘What can possibly happen in a place like this? The local farmers spend all their time talking about a cow that died six months ago.’ He drew up a chair and sat down uninvited. He sighed. ‘I used to live in Cimmura when I was younger. Now, there’s a place where things really happen. I miss all the excitement.’
‘What made you decide to move out here?’ Kalten asked, spearing another slice of beef with his dagger.
‘My father left me this place when he died. Nobody wanted to buy it, so I didn’t have any choice.’ He frowned slightly. ‘Now that you mention it, though,’ he said, returning to the previous topic, ‘there has been something a little unusual happening around here for the last few months.’
‘Oh?’ Tynian said carefully.
‘We’ve been seeing bands of roving Styrics. The countryside’s crawling with them. They don’t usually move around that much, do they?’
‘Not really,’ Sephrenia replied. ‘We’re not a nomadic people.’
‘I thought you might be Styric, lady – judging from your looks and your clothes. We’ve got a Styric village not far from here. They’re nice enough people, I suppose, but they keep pretty much to themselves.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘I do think you Styrics could avoid a lot of the trouble that breaks out from time to time if you’d just mingle with your neighbours a little more.’
‘It’s not our way,’ Sephrenia murmured. ‘I don’t believe Elenes and Styrics are supposed to mingle.’
‘There could be something to what you say,’ he agreed.
‘Are these Styrics doing anything in particular?’ Sparhawk asked, keeping his voice neutral.
‘Asking questions is about all. They seem to be very curious about the Zemoch war for some reason.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Enjoy your supper,’ he said and went back to the kitchen.
‘We have a problem,’ Sephrenia said gravely. ‘Western Styrics do not wander about the countryside. Our Gods prefer to have us stay close to their altars.’
‘Zemochs then?’ Bevier surmised.
‘Almost certainly.’
‘When I was in Lamorkand, there were reports of Zemochs infiltrating the country east of Motera,’ Kalten remembered. ‘They were doing the same thing – wandering about the country asking questions, mostly having to do with folk-lore.’
‘Azash seems to have a plan that closely resembles ours,’ Sephrenia said. ‘He’s trying to gather information that will lead him to Bhelliom.’
‘It’s a race then,’ Kalten said.
‘I’m afraid so, and he’s got Zemochs out there ahead of us.’
‘And church soldiers behind,’ Ulath added. ‘You’ve gone and got us surrounded, Sparhawk. Could that Seeker be controlling those wandering Zemochs the same way it’s controlling the soldiers?’ the big Thalesian asked Sephrenia. ‘We could be riding into an ambush if it is, you know.’
‘I’m not entirely certain,’ she replied. ‘I’ve heard a great deal about Otha’s Seekers, but I’ve never actually seen one in action.’
‘You didn’t have time to be very specific this morning,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Exactly how is that thing controlling Annias’s soldiers?’
‘It’s venomous,’ she said. ‘Its bite paralyses the will of its victims – or of those it wants to dominate.’
‘I’ll make a point of not letting it bite me then,’ Kalten said.
‘You may not be able to stop it,’ she told him. ‘That green glow is hypnotic. That makes it easier for it to get close enough to inject the venom.’
‘How fast can it fly?’ Tynian asked.
‘It doesn’t fly at this stage of its development,’ she replied. ‘Its wings don’t mature until it becomes an adult. Besides, it has to be on the ground to follow the scent of the one it’s trying to catch. Normally, it travels on horseback, and since the horse is controlled in the same way people are, the Seeker simply rides the horse to death and then finds another. It can cover a great deal of ground that way.’
‘What does it eat?’ Kurik asked. ‘Maybe we can set a trap for it.’
‘It feeds primarily on humans,’ she told him.
‘That would make baiting a trap a little difficult,’ he admitted.
They all went to bed directly after supper, but it seemed to Sparhawk that his head had no sooner touched the pillow than Kurik was shaking him awake.
‘It’s about midnight,’ the squire said.
‘All right,’ Sparhawk said wearily, sitting up in bed.
‘I’ll wake the others,’ Kurik said, ‘and then Berit and I’ll go saddle the horses.’
After he had dressed, Sparhawk went downstairs to have a word with the sleepy innkeeper. ‘Tell me, neighbour,’ he said, ‘is there by any chance a monastery hereabouts?’
The innkeeper scratched his head. ‘I think there’s one near the village of Verine,’ he replied. ‘That’s about five leagues east of here.’