The Hidden City (8 page)

‘It's lovely,' he told her, absently stroking the white deer's neck, ‘but it's a dream.'

‘Are you really sure about that, Sparhawk? Are you so certain that
this
isn't reality and that other place isn't the dream?'

‘Don't do that. It makes my head hurt. What should I do?'

‘I'd say that your first step ought to be to have a long conversation with Bhelliom. All of your moping around and contemplating arbitrary decisions has it more than a little worried.'

‘All right. Then what?'

‘I haven't gotten that far yet.' She grinned at him. ‘I'm a-workin' on it though, Dorlin',' she added.

‘They're going to be all right, Kalten,' Sparhawk said, gently laying his hand on his suffering friend's shoulder.

Kalten looked up, his eyes filled with hopeless misery. ‘Are you sure, Sparhawk?'

They will be if we can just keep our heads. Ehlana was in much more danger when I came back from Rendor, and we took care of that, didn't we?'

‘I suppose you're right.' Kalten straightened up in his chair and jerked down his blue doublet. His face was bleak. ‘I think I'm going to find some people and hurt them,' he declared.

‘Would you mind if I came along?'

‘You can help if you like.' Kalten rubbed at the side of his face. ‘I've been thinking,' he said. ‘You know that if you follow those orders in Krager's note, he'll be able to keep you plodding from one end of Tamuli to the other for the next year or more, don't you?'

‘Do I have any choice? They're going to be watching me.'

‘Let them. Do you remember how we met Berit?'

‘He was a novice in the Chapterhouse in Cimmura,' Sparhawk shrugged.

‘Not when,
I
first saw him, he wasn't. I was coming back from exile in Lamorkand, and I stopped at a roadside tavern outside of Cimmura. Berit was there with Kurik, and he was wearing your armor. I've known you since we were children, and even,
I
couldn't tell that he wasn't you. If,
I
couldn't tell, Krager's spies certainly won't be able to. If somebody has to plod around Tamuli, let Berit do it. You and I have better things to do.'

Sparhawk was startled. ‘That's the best idea I've heard yet.' He looked around at the others. ‘Could I have your attention, please?' he said.

They all looked sharply at him, their faces apprehensive.

‘It's time to get to work,' he told them. ‘Kalten here just reminded me that we've used Sir Berit as a decoy
in the past. Berit and I are nearly the same size, and my armor fits him – more or less – and with his visor down, nobody can really tell that he isn't me. If we can prevail on him to masquerade as a broken-down old campaigner again, we might just be able to prepare a few surprises for Krager and his friends.'

‘You don't even have to ask, Sparhawk,' Berit said.

‘Get some details before you volunteer like that, Berit,' Khalad told his friend in a pained voice.

‘Your father used to say almost exactly the same thing,' Berit recalled.

‘Why didn't you listen to him?'

‘It's an interesting plan, Prince Sparhawk,' Oscagne said a bit dubiously, ‘but isn't it extremely dangerous?'

‘I'm not afraid, your Excellency,' Berit protested.

‘I wasn't talking about
your
danger, young sir. I'm talking about the danger to Queen Ehlana. The moment someone penetrates your disguise – well …' Oscagne spread his hands.

‘Then we'll just have to make sure that his disguise is foolproof,' Sephrenia said.

‘He can't keep his visor down forever, Sephrenia,' Sarabian objected.

‘I don't think he'll have to,' Sephrenia replied. She looked speculatively at Xanetia. ‘Do we trust each other enough to co-operate, Anarae?' she asked. ‘I'm talking about something a little deeper than we've gone so far.'

‘I will listen most attentively to thy proposal, my sister.'

‘Delphaeic magic is directed primarily inward, isn't it?'

Xanetia nodded.

‘That's probably why no one can hear or feel it. Styric magic is just the reverse. We alter things around us, so our magic reaches out. Neither form will work by itself in this particular situation, but if we were to combine
them …' She left it hanging in the air between them.

‘Interesting notion,' Aphrael mused.

‘I'm not sure I follow,' Vanion said.

‘The Anarae and I are going to have to experiment a bit,' Sephrenia told him, ‘but if what I've got in mind works, we'll be able to make Berit look so much like Sparhawk that they'll be able to use each other for shaving mirrors.'

‘As long as each of us knows exactly what the other's doing, it's not too difficult, Sparhawk,' Sephrenia assured him later when he and Berit joined her, Vanion and the Anarae in the room she shared with Vanion.

‘Will it really work?' he asked her dubiously.

‘They haven't actually tried it yet, Sparhawk,' Vanion told him, ‘so we're not entirely positive.'

‘That doesn't sound too promising. This isn't much of a face, but it's the only one I've got.'

‘There will be no danger to thee or to young Sir Berit, Anakha,' Xanetia said. ‘In times past it hath oft been necessary for my people to leave our valley and to go abroad amongst others. This hath been our means of disguising our true identity.'

‘It works sort of like this, Sparhawk,' Sephrenia explained. ‘Xanetia casts a Delphaeic spell that would normally imprint your features on her own face, but just as she releases
her
spell,
I
release a Styric one that deflects the spell to Berit instead.'

‘Won't every Styric in Matherion feel it when you release your spell?' Sparhawk asked.

‘That's the beauty of it, Sparhawk,' Aphrael told him. ‘The spell itself originates with Xanetia, and others can't feel or hear a Delphaeic spell. Cyrgon himself could be in the next room and he wouldn't hear a thing.'

‘You're sure it's going to work?'

‘There's one way to find out.'

Sparhawk, of course, did not feel a thing. He
was
only the model, after all. It was a bit disconcerting to watch Berit's appearance gradually change, however.

When the combined spell had been completed, sparhawk carefully inspected his young friend. ‘Do I really look like that from the side?' he asked Vanion, feeling a bit deflated.

‘I can't tell the two of you apart.'

‘That nose is really crooked, isn't it?'

‘We thought you knew.'

‘I've never looked at myself from the side this way before.' Sparhawk looked critically at Berit's eyes. ‘You should probably try to squint just a little,' he suggested. ‘My eyes aren't as good as they used to be. ‘That's one of the things you have to look forward to as you get older.'

‘I'll try to remember that.' Even Berit's voice was different.

‘Do I really sound like that?' Sparhawk was crestfallen.

Vanion nodded.

Sparhawk shook his head. ‘Seeing and hearing yourself as others do definitely lowers your opinion of yourself,' he admitted. He looked at Berit again. ‘I didn't feel anything, did you?'

Berit nodded, swallowing hard.

‘What was it like?'

‘I'd really rather not talk about it.' Berit gently explored his new face with cringing fingertips, wincing as he did.

‘I
still
can't tell them apart,' Kalten marveled, staring first at Berit and then at Sparhawk.

‘That was sort of the idea,' Sparhawk told him.

‘Which one are you?'

‘Try to be serious, Kalten.'

‘Now that we know how it's done, we can make some other changes as well,' Sephrenia told them. ‘We'll give you all different faces so that you'll be able to move around freely –
and
we'll put men wearing
your
faces here in the palace. I think we can all expect to be watched, even after the Harvest Festival, and this should nullify that particular problem.'

‘We can make more detailed plans later,' Vanion said. ‘Let's get Berit and Khalad on their way first. What's the customary route when someone wants to go overland from here to Beresa?' He unrolled a map and spread it out on the table.

‘Most travelers go by sea,' Oscagne replied, but those who don't usually cross the peninsula to Micae and then take a ship across the gulf to the mainland.'

‘There don't seem to be any roads over there,' Vanion frowned, looking at the map.

‘It's a relatively uninhabited region, Lord Vanion,' Oscagne shrugged, ‘salt marshes and the like. What few tracks there are wouldn't show up on the map.'

‘Do the best you can,' Vanion told the two young men. ‘Once you get past the Tamul Mountains, you'll hit that road that skirts the western side of the jungle.'

‘I'd make a special point of staying out of those mountains, Berit,' Ulath advised. ‘There are Trolls there now.'

Berit nodded.

‘You'd better have a talk with Faran, Sparhawk,' Khalad suggested. ‘I don't think he'll be fooled just because Berit's wearing your face, and Berit's going to have to ride him if this is going to be convincing.'

‘I'd forgotten that,' Sparhawk admitted.

‘I thought you might have.'

‘All right then,' Vanion continued his instructions to the two young men, ‘follow that road down to Lydros, then take the road round the southern tip of Arjuna to
Beresa. That's the logical route, and they'll probably be expecting you to go that way.'

That's going to take quite a while, Lord Vanion,' Khalad said.

‘I know. Evidently Krager and his friends want it to. If they were in a hurry, they'd have instructed Sparhawk to go by sea.'

‘Give Berit your wife's ring, Sparhawk,' Flute instructed.

‘What?'

‘Zalasta can sense the ring, and if he can, Cyrgon can, too – and Klæl will
definitely
feel it. If you don't give Berit the ring, changing his face was just a waste of time.'

‘You're putting Berit and Khalad in a great deal of danger,' Sephrenia said critically.

‘That's what we get paid for, little mother,' Khalad shrugged.

‘I'll watch over them,' Aphrael assured her sister. She looked critically at Berit. ‘Call me,' she told him.

‘Ma'am?'

‘Use the spell, Berit,' she explained with exaggerated patience. ‘I want to be sure you're doing it right.'

‘Oh.' Berit carefully enunciated the spell of summoning, his hands moving in the intricate accompanying gestures.

‘You mispronounced
“Kajerasticon”
,' she corrected him.

Sephrenia was trying without much success to suppress a laugh.

‘What's so funny?' Talen asked her.

‘Sir Berit's pronunciations raised some questions about his meaning,' Stragen explained.

‘What did he say?' Talen asked curiously.

‘Just never mind what he said,' Flute told him primly. ‘We're not here to repeat off-color jokes about the
differences between boys and girls. Practice on that one, Berit. Now try the secret summoning.'

‘What's that?' Itagne murmured to Vanion.

‘It's used to pass messages, your Excellency,' Vanion replied. ‘It summons the awareness of the Child Goddess, but not her presence. We can give her a message to carry to someone else by using that spell.'

‘Isn't that just a little demeaning for the Child Goddess? Do you really make her run errands and carry messages that way?'

‘I'm not offended, Itagne.' Aphrael smiled. ‘After all, we live only to serve those we love, don't we?'

Berit's pronunciation of the second spell raised no objections.

‘You'll probably want to use that one most of the time anyway, Berit,' Vanion instructed. ‘Krager warned Sparhawk about using magic, so don't be too obvious about things. If you get any further instructions along the road, make some show of following them, but pass the word on to Aphrael.'

‘There's no real point in decking him out in Sparhawk's armor now, is there, Lord Vanion?' Khalad asked.

‘Good point,' Vanion agreed. ‘A mail-shirt should do, Berit. We
want
them to see your face now.'

‘Yes, my Lord.'

‘Now you'd better get some sleep,' Vanion continued. ‘You'll be starting early tomorrow morning.'

‘Not
too
early, though,' Caalador amended. ‘We purely wouldn't want th' spies t' oversleep therselfs an' miss seein' y' leave. Gittin' a new face don't mean shucks iffn y' don't git no chance t' show it off, now does it?'

It was chill and damp in the courtyard the following morning, and a thin autumn mist lay over the gleaming
city. Sparhawk led Faran out of the stables. ‘Just be careful,' he cautioned the two young men in mail-shirts and travelers' cloaks.

‘You've said that already, my Lord,' Khalad reminded him. ‘Berit and I aren't deaf, you know.'

‘You'd better forget that name, Khalad,' Sparhawk said critically. ‘Start thinking of our young friend here as me. A slip of the tongue in the wrong place could give this all away.'

‘I'll keep that in mind.'

‘Do you need money?'

‘I thought you'd never ask.'

‘You're as bad as your father was.' Sparhawk pulled a purse from under his belt and handed it to his squire. Then he firmly took Faran by the chin and looked straight into the big roan's eyes. I want you to go with Berit, Faran,' he said. ‘Behave exactly as you would if he were me.'

Faran flicked his ears and looked away.

‘Pay attention,' Sparhawk said sharply. ‘This is important.'