Azash seems to have a plan that closely resembles ours, Sephrenia said. Hes trying to gather information that will lead him to Bhelliom.
Its a race then, Kalten said.
Im afraid so, and hes got Zemochs out there ahead of us.
And church soldiers behind, Ulath added. Youve gone and got us surrounded, Sparhawk. Could that Seeker be controlling those wandering Zemochs the same way its controlling the soldiers? the big Thalesian asked Sephrenia. We could be riding into an ambush if it is, you know.
Im not entirely certain, she replied. Ive heard a great deal about Othas Seekers, but Ive never actually seen one in action.
You didnt have time to be very specific this morning, Sparhawk said. Exactly how is that thing controlling Anniass soldiers?
Its venomous, she said. Its bite paralyses the will of its victims or of those it wants to dominate.
Ill 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 doesnt fly at this stage of its development, she replied. Its wings dont mature until it becomes an adult. Besides, it has to be on the ground to follow the scent of the one its 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.
Its about midnight, the squire said.
All right, Sparhawk said wearily, sitting up in bed.
Ill wake the others, Kurik said, and then Berit and Ill 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 theres one near the village of Verine, he replied. Thats about five leagues east of here.
Thanks, neighbour, Sparhawk said. He looked around. Youve got a nice, comfortable inn here, he said, and your wife keeps clean beds and sets a very fine table. Ill mention your place to my friends.
Why, thats very kind of you, Sir Knight.
Sparhawk nodded to him and went outside to join the others.
Whats the plan? Kalten asked.
The innkeeper thinks theres a monastery near a village about five leagues away. We should reach it by morning. I want to get word of all this to Dolmant in Chyrellos.
I could take the message to him for you, Sir Sparhawk, Berit offered eagerly.
Sparhawk shook his head. The Seeker probably has your scent by now, Berit. I dont want you getting ambushed on the road to Chyrellos. Lets send some anonymous monk instead. That monasterys on our way anyhow, so we wont be losing any time. Lets mount up.
The moon was full and the night sky was clear as they rode away from the inn. That way, Kurik said, pointing.
How do you know that? Talen asked him.
The stars, Kurik replied.
Do you mean you can actually tell direction by the stars? Talen sounded impressed.
Of course you can. Sailors have been doing that for thousands of years.
I didnt know that.
You should have stayed in school.
I dont plan to be a sailor, Kurik. Stealing fish sounds a little too much like work to me.
They rode on through the moon-drenched night, moving almost due east. By morning they had gone perhaps five leagues, and Sparhawk rode to a hilltop to look around. Theres a village just ahead, he told the others when he returned. Lets hope its the one were looking for.
The village lay in a shallow valley. It was a small place, perhaps a dozen stone houses with a church at one end of its single cobbled street and a tavern at the other. A large, walled building stood atop a hill just outside the town. Excuse me, neighbour, Sparhawk asked a passer-by as they clattered into town. Is this Verine?
It is.
And is that the monastery up on that hill there?
It is, the man replied again, his voice a bit sullen.
Is there some problem?
The monks up there own all the land hereabouts, the fellow replied. Their rents are cruel.
Isnt that always the way? All landlords are greedy.
The monks insist on tithes as well as the rent. Thats going a bit far, wouldnt you say?
Youve got a point there.
Why do you call everybody neighbour? Tynian asked as they rode on.
Habit, I suppose, Sparhawk shrugged. I got it from my father, and I think it puts people at their ease.
Why not call them friend?
Because I never know that for sure. Lets go talk to the Abbot of that monastery.
The monastery was a severe-looking building surrounded by a wall made of yellow sandstone. The fields around it were well-tended, and monks wearing conical hats woven from local straw worked patiently under the morning sun in long, straight rows of vegetables. The gates of the monastery stood open, and Sparhawk and the others rode into the central courtyard. A thin, haggard-looking brother came out to meet them, his face a little fearful.
Good day, brother, Sparhawk said to him. He opened his cloak to reveal the heavy silver amulet hanging on a chain about his neck which identified him as a Pandion Knight. If its not too much trouble, wed like to have a word with your Abbot.
Ill bring him immediately, My Lord. The brother scurried back inside the building.
The Abbot was a jolly little fat man with a well-shaven tonsure and a bright red, sweaty face. His was a small, remote monastery and had little contact with Chyrellos. He was embarrassingly obsequious at the sudden, unexpected appearance of Church Knights on his doorstep. My Lords, he grovelled, how may I serve you?
Its a small thing, my Lord Abbot, Sparhawk told him gently. Are you acquainted with the Patriarch of Demos?
The Abbot swallowed hard. Patriarch Dolmant? he said in an awed voice.
Tall fellow, Sparhawk agreed. Sort of lean and underfed-looking. Anyway, we need to get a message to him. Have you a young monk whos got some stamina and a good horse who could carry a message to the Patriarch for us? Its in the service of the Church.
O-of course, Sir Knight.
Id hoped youd feel that way about it. Do you have a quill pen and ink handy, My Lord Abbot? Ill compose the message, and then we wont bother you any more.
One other thing, My Lord Abbot, Kalten added. Might we trouble you for a bit of food? Weve been some time on the road, and our supplies are getting low. Nothing too exotic, mind a few roast chickens, perhaps, a ham or two, a side of bacon, a hindquarter of beef, maybe?