The Ruby Knight

  ‘Its image,’ Sephrenia replied. ‘Azash summoned it when He realized that the idol was in danger.’

  ‘If it was only an image, then it wasn’t really dangerous, was it?’

  ‘Don’t ever make that mistake, Kurik. The images Azash summons are sometimes even more dangerous than the real things.’ She looked around with distaste. ‘Let us leave this revolting place,’ she suggested. ‘Lock the door again, Count Ghasek – for the time being. Later on, it might be wise to wall up the entrance.’

  ‘I’ll see to it,’ he promised.

  They went back up the narrow stairs and returned to the vaulted room where they had found the count. The others had already gathered there.

  ‘What was all that awful screaming?’ Talen asked. The boy’s face was pale.

  ‘My sister, I’m afraid,’ Count Ghasek replied sadly.

  Kalten looked warily at Bevier. ‘Is it safe to talk about her in front of him?’ he quietly asked Sparhawk.

  ‘He’s all right now,’ Sparhawk answered, ‘and Lady Bellina has been stripped of her powers.’

  ‘That’s a relief. I wasn’t sleeping too well under the same roof with her.’ He looked at Sephrenia. ‘How did you manage it?’ he asked. ‘To cure Bevier, I mean?’

  ‘We found out how the lady was influencing others,’ she said. ‘There’s a spell that temporarily counteracts that sort of thing. Then we went to a room in the cellar and completed the cure.’ She frowned. ‘There’s still a problem, though,’ she said to the count. ‘That minstrel’s still out there. He’s infected, and the servants you sent away probably are as well. They can infect others, and they could return with a large number of people. I cannot remain here to cure them all. Our quest is far, far too important for such delay.’

  ‘I will send for armed men,’ the count declared. ‘I have enough resources for that, and I will seal up the gates of the castle. If necessary, I will kill my sister to prevent her escape.’

  ‘You may not have to go that far, My Lord,’ Sparhawk told him, remembering something Sephrenia had said in the cellar. ‘Let’s go and have a look at this tower.’

  ‘You have a plan, Sir Sparhawk?’

  ‘Let’s not get our hopes up until I see the tower.’

  The count led them out into the courtyard. The storm had largely passed. The lightning was flickering on the eastern horizon now, and the pounding rain had diminished to intermittent tatters that raked the shiny stones of the yard. ‘It’s that one, Sir Sparhawk,’ the count said, pointing at the south-east corner of the castle.

  Sparhawk took a torch from beside the entryway, crossed the rainy courtyard and began his examination of the tower. It was a squat, round structure perhaps twenty feet high and fifteen or so in diameter. A stone stairway wound half-way around the side of it to a solidly barred and chained door at the top. The windows were no more than narrow slits. There was a second door at the base of the tower, and it was unlocked. Sparhawk opened it and went inside. It appeared to be a store-room. Boxes and bags were piled along the walls, and the room appeared dusty and unused. Unlike the tower, however, the room was not round but semicircular. Buttresses jutted out from the walls to hold up the stone floor of the chamber above. Sparhawk nodded with satisfaction and went back outside again. ‘What’s behind that wall in this store-room, My Lord?’ he asked the count.

  ‘There’s a wooden staircase that runs up from the kitchen, Sir Sparhawk. In times when the tower had to be defended, the cooks could take food and drink to the men up there. Occuda uses it now to feed my sister.’

  ‘Do the servants you sent away know about the stairway?’

  ‘Only the cooks knew, and they were among the ones Occuda killed.’

  ‘Better and better. Is there a door at the top of those stairs?’

  ‘No. Just a narrow slot to push the food through.’

  ‘Good. The lady’s misbehaved a bit, but I don’t think any of us would want to starve her to death.’ He looked around at the others. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said to them, ‘we’re going to learn a new trade.’

  ‘I don’t quite follow you, Sparhawk,’ Tynian admitted.

  ‘We’re now going to be stone-masons. Kurik, do you know how to lay brick and stone?’

  ‘Of course I do, Sparhawk,’ Kurik said disgustedly. ‘You should know that.’

  ‘Good. You’ll be our foreman then. Gentlemen, what I’m going to suggest may shock you, but I don’t think we have any choice.’ He looked at Sephrenia. ‘If Bellina ever gets out of that tower, she’s probably going to go looking for Zemochs or the Seeker. Would they be able to restore her powers?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure they could.’

  ‘We can’t allow that. I don’t want that cellar ever to be used in that way again.’

  ‘What are you proposing, Sir Sparhawk?’ the count asked.

  ‘We’re going to wall up that door at the top of those stairs,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘Then we’ll tear the stairway down and use the stones to wall this door at the base of the tower in as well. Then we’ll conceal the door that leads from the kitchen to that stairway inside the tower. Occuda will still be able to feed her, but if the minstrel or those servants ever manage to get inside the castle, they’ll never figure out how to get to that room up there. Lady Bellina will live out the rest of her life right where she is.’

  ‘That’s a rather horrible thing to suggest, Sparhawk,’ Tynian said.

  ‘Would you rather kill her?’ Sparhawk asked bluntly.

  Tynian’s face blanched.

  ‘That’s it, then. We brick her up inside.’

  Bevier’s smile was chill. ‘Perfect, Sparhawk,’ he said. Then he looked at the count. ‘Tell me, My Lord, which of the structures inside your walls can you spare?’

  The count gave him a puzzled look.

  ‘We’re going to need building stone,’ Bevier explained. ‘Quite a bit of it, I think. I want the wall across that door up there good and thick.’

  Chapter 16

  They removed their armour and put on the plain workmen’s smocks which Occuda provided, and then they went to work. They knocked out a portion of the back wall of the stable, working under Kurik’s direction. Occuda mixed a large tub of mortar, and they began to carry building stones up the curved stairway to the door at the top of the tower.

  ‘Before you begin, gentlemen,’ Sephrenia said, ‘I’ll need to see her.’

  ‘Are you sure of that?’ Kalten asked her. ‘She might still be dangerous, you know.’

  ‘That’s what I have to find out. I’m positive that she’s powerless, but it’s best to be certain, and I can’t do that unless I see her.’

  ‘And I’d like to see her face one last time as well,’ Count Ghasek added. ‘I can’t bear what she’s become, but I did love her once.’

  They mounted the stairs, and Kurik prised the heavy chain away from the door with a steel bar. Then the count took yet another key and unlocked the door.

  Bevier drew his sword.

  ‘Is that really necessary?’ Tynian asked him.

  ‘It may be,’ Bevier replied bleakly.

  ‘All right, My Lord,’ Sephrenia said to the count, ‘open the door.’

  The Lady Bellina stood just inside. Her wildly contorted face was pouchy and her neck wrinkled. Her tangled hair was streaked with grey, and her naked body sagged in unlovely folds. Her eyes were totally insane, and she pulled back her lips from her pointed teeth in a snarl of hate.

  ‘Bellina,’ the count began sadly, but she hissed at him and lunged forward with her fingers extended like claws.

  Sephrenia spoke a single word, pointing her finger, and Bellina reeled back as if she had been struck a heavy blow. She howled in frustration and tried to rush at them again, but suddenly stopped, clawing at the air in front of her as if at some wall that none of them could see.

  ‘Close it again, My Lord,’ Sephrenia instructed sadly. ‘I’ve seen enough.’

  ‘So have I,’ the count replied in a choked voice and with
tear-filled eyes as he closed the door. ‘She’s hopelessly mad now, isn’t she?’

  ‘Completely. Of course she’s been mad since she left that house in Chyrellos, but she’s absolutely gone now. She’s no longer a danger to anyone but herself.’ Sephrenia’s voice was filled with pity. ‘There are no mirrors in that room, are there?’

  ‘No. Would that pose some threat?’

  ‘Not really, but at least she’ll be spared the sight of herself. That would be too cruel.’ She paused thoughtfully. ‘There are some common weeds hereabouts, I’ve noticed. There’s a way to extract their juices, and they have a calming effect. I’ll talk with Occuda and give him instructions for putting them in her food. They won’t cure her, but they’ll make it less likely that she’ll hurt herself. Lock the door, My Lord. I’ll go back inside while you gentlemen do what needs to be done. Let me know when you’ve finished.’ Flute and Talen trailed after her as she walked back towards the castle.

  ‘Hold it right there, young man,’ Kurik said to his son.

  ‘Now what?’ Talen said.

  ‘You stay here.’

  ‘Kurik, I don’t know anything about bricklaying.’

  ‘You don’t have to know all that much to carry stones up those stairs.’

  ‘You’re not serious!’

  Kurik reached for his belt, and Talen hurried over to the pile of squared-off stones at the back of the stable.

  ‘Good lad there,’ Ulath noted. ‘He grasps reality almost immediately.’

  Bevier insisted upon being in the forefront of their work. The young Cyrinic laid building stones almost in a frenzy.

  ‘Keep them level,’ Kurik barked at him. ‘This is a permanent structure, so let’s make a workmanlike job of it.’

  In spite of himself, Sparhawk laughed.

  ‘Something amusing, My Lord?’ Kurik asked him coldly.

  ‘No. I just remembered something, that’s all.’

  ‘You’ll have to share it with us later. Don’t just stand there, Sparhawk. Help Talen carry stones.’

  The embrasure into which the door was set was quite thick, since this tower was a part of the castle’s fortifications. They built one wall flush against the door as the count’s sister shrieked insanely inside and pounded wildly against the door which they were sealing. Then they began a second wall tightly against the first. It was mid-morning when Sparhawk went into the castle to tell Sephrenia that they had finished.

  ‘Good,’ she said. The two of them went back out into the courtyard. The rain had ceased now, and the sky had begun to clear. Sparhawk looked upon that as a good omen. He led Sephrenia to the stairs that half encircled the tower.

  ‘Very nice, gentlemen,’ Sephrenia called up to the others, who were putting the finishing touches on the wall they had constructed. ‘Now, come down from there. I have one last thing to do.’

  They trooped down, and the small woman went on up. She began to chant in Styric. When she released the spell, the fresh-built wall seemed to shimmer for a moment. Then the shimmering was gone. She came back down. ‘All right,’ she said, ‘you can knock down the stairs now.’

  ‘What did you do?’ Kalten asked curiously.

  She smiled. ‘Your work was much better than you might have thought, dear one,’ she told him. ‘The wall you built is totally impregnable now. That minstrel or the servants can pound on it with sledges until they’re old and grey without damaging it in the slightest.’

  Kurik, who had gone back up the steps, leaned out and looked down at them. ‘The mortar’s completely dry,’ he reported. ‘That usually takes days.’

  Sephrenia pointed at the door at the base of the tower. ‘Let me know when you finish this one. It’s a bit damp and chilly out here. I think I’ll go back inside where it’s warm.’

  The count, who had been more saddened by the necessary entombment of his sister than he had readily admitted, accompanied her back inside while Kurik instructed his makeshift work-crew as to how to proceed.

  It took them most of the rest of the day to knock down the stone stairway leading to the now-walled-in upper door and to seal off the lower one. Then Sephrenia came out, repeated the spell and went back into the castle.

  Sparhawk and the others adjourned to the kitchen, which was located in a wing of the castle abutting the tower.

  Kurik considered the small door leading to the inside staircase.

  ‘Well?’ Sparhawk asked him.

  ‘Don’t rush me, Sparhawk.’

  ‘It’s getting late, Kurik.’

  ‘Do you want to do this?’

  Sparhawk closed his mouth and watched without saying a word as Talen slipped away. The boy looked tired, and Kurik was a hard task-master. Sparhawk was like that on occasion.

  Kurik consulted with Occuda for a few moments, then looked at his mortar-spattered crew. ‘Time to learn a new trade, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘You’re now going to become carpenters. We’re going to build a china cabinet out from that door. The hinges will still work, and I can fashion a hidden latch. The door will be completely concealed.’ He thought a moment, cocking his head to listen to the muffled shrieks coming from above. ‘I think I’ll need some quilts, Occuda,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘We’ll nail them to the other side of the door to keep the noise from being too loud in here.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Occuda agreed. ‘With no other servants around, I’ll be spending a fair amount of time in here, and that screaming might get on my nerves.’

  ‘That’s not the only reason we’re doing it, but that’s all right. Very well, gentlemen, let’s get to work.’ Kurik grinned. ‘I’ll make useful people out of you all yet,’ he said.

  When they were done, the china cabinet was a solid piece of work. Kurik rather liberally laid a dark stain over it, then stepped back and viewed the new woodwork critically. ‘Wax it a couple of times after the stain dries,’ he said to Occuda, ‘and then scuff it up a bit. You’d probably better scratch it in a few places as well and blow dust into the corners. Then load it with crockery. Nobody will ever know that it hasn’t been here for a century or more.’

  ‘That is a very good man you’ve got there, Sparhawk,’ Ulath noted. ‘Would you consider selling him?’

  ‘His wife would kill me,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘Besides, we don’t sell people in Elenia.’

  ‘We’re not in Elenia.’

  ‘Why don’t we go back to that main room?’

  ‘Not just yet, Sir Knights,’ Kurik said firmly. ‘First you have to sweep the sawdust up from the floor and put the tools away.’

  Sparhawk sighed and went looking for a broom.

  After they had cleaned up the kitchen, they washed the mortar and sawdust off themselves, changed back into tunics and hose and returned to the large room with the vaulted ceiling, where they found the count and Sephrenia deep in conversation while Talen and Flute sat not far away. The boy appeared to be teaching the little girl how to play draughts.

  ‘You look much neater now,’ Sephrenia told them approvingly. ‘You were all really very messy out there in the courtyard.’

  ‘You can’t lay brick or stone without getting mud on you,’ Kurik shrugged.

  ‘I seem to have picked up a blister,’ Kalten mourned, looking at the palm of his hand.

  ‘It’s the first honest work he’s done since he was knighted,’ Kurik said to the count. ‘With a little training, he might not make a bad carpenter, but the rest of them have a long way to go, I’m afraid.’

  ‘How did you conceal the door in the kitchen?’ the count asked him.

  ‘We built a china cabinet against it, My Lord. Occuda’s going to do a few things to it to make it look old and then fill it with dishes. We padded the back of it to muffle the sound of your sister’s screaming.’

  ‘Is she still doing that?’ the count sighed.

  ‘It will not diminish as the years go by, My Lord,’ Sephrenia told him. ‘I’m afraid she’ll scream until the day she dies. When she stops, you’ll know that it’s over.’
>
  ‘Occuda’s making us something to eat,’ Sparhawk said to the count. ‘It’s going to take him a while, so this might not be a bad time to have a look at the chronicle you’ve compiled.’

  ‘Excellent idea, Sir Sparhawk,’ the count said, rising from his chair. ‘Will you excuse us, Madame?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Perhaps you might care to accompany us?’

  She laughed. ‘Ah, no, My Lord. I’d be of no use in a library.’

  ‘Sephrenia doesn’t read,’ Sparhawk explained. ‘It has something to do with her religion, I think.’

  ‘No,’ she disagreed. ‘It has to do with language, dear one. I don’t want to get into the habit of thinking in Elene. It might interfere at some point when I need to think – and speak – very rapidly in Styric.’

  ‘Bevier, Ulath, why don’t you come with the count and me?’ Sparhawk suggested. ‘Between you, you might be able to fill in some details that will help him pinpoint the story we need.’

  They went back up the stairs and left the room. The three knights followed the count through the dusty hallways of the castle until they reached a door in the west wing. The count opened the door and led them into a dark room. He fumbled around on a large table for a moment, took up a candle and went back into the hallway to light it from the torch burning outside.

  The room was not large, and it was crammed with books. They stood on shelves stretching from floor to ceiling and were piled in the corners.

  ‘You are well-read, My Lord,’ Bevier said to him.

  ‘It’s what scholars do, Sir Bevier. The soil hereabouts is poor – except for growing trees – and the cultivation of trees is not a very stimulating activity for a civilized man.’ He looked around fondly. ‘These are my friends,’ he said. ‘I’ll need their companionship now more than ever, I’m afraid. I won’t be able to leave this house ever again. I’ll have to stay here to guard my sister.’

  ‘The insane don’t usually live for very long, My Lord,’ Ulath assured him. ‘Once they go mad, they begin to neglect themselves. I had a cousin who lost her mind one winter. She was gone by spring.’