went down the stairs to fetch rope, a bow, and a quiver of arrows.
‘What’s afoot?’ Tynian asked as he, Kalten, Bevier, and Ulath met them in the courtyard.
‘We’re going to get word to Dolmant,’ Sparhawk told him.
Tynian looked at the bow Berit was carrying. ‘With that?’ he asked. ‘Isn’t that rather a long shot?’
‘There’s a little more to it than that,’ Sparhawk told him. He quickly sketched in the plan. Then, as they started up the steps, he put his hand on Talen’s shoulder. ‘This isn’t going to be the safest thing in the world,’ he told the boy. ‘I want you to be careful out there.’
‘You worry too much, Sparhawk,’ Talen replied. ‘I could do this in my sleep.’
‘You might need some kind of note to give to Dolmant,’ Sparhawk said.
‘You’re not serious? If I get stopped, I can lie my way out of trouble, but not if I’ve got a note in my pocket. Dolmant knows me, and he’ll know that the message is from you. Just leave everything to me, Sparhawk.’
‘Don’t stop to pick any pockets along the way.’
‘Of course not,’ Talen replied, just a little too glibly.
Sparhawk sighed. Then he quickly told the boy what to say to the Patriarch of Demos.
The plan went more or less as Talen had outlined it. As soon as the patrol had passed in the narrow street, Berit’s arrow arched out like a falling star and sank into the thatched stable roof. It sputtered there for a moment or two, and then bluish-coloured flame ran quickly up to the ridgepole, turning sooty orange first, then bright yellow as the flames began to spread.
‘Fire!’ Talen yelled.
‘Fire!’ the rest echoed.
In the street below, the church soldiers came pounding around the corner to be met by the nearly hysterical owner of the stables. ‘Good masters!’ the poor man cried, wringing his hands. ‘My stable! My horses! My house! My God!’
The officious captain hesitated, looking first at the fire then back at the looming wall of the chapterhouse in an agony of indecision.
‘We’ll help you, Captain,’ Tynian called down from the wall. ‘Open the gate!’
‘No!’ the captain shouted back. ‘Stay inside.’
‘You could lose half of the holy city, you blockhead!’ Kalten roared at him. ‘That fire will spread if you don’t do something immediately.’
‘You!’ the captain snapped at the commoner who owned the stable. ‘Fetch buckets and show me the nearest well.’ He turned quickly to his men. ‘Form up a line,’ he commanded. ‘Go to the front gate of the Pandion house and bring back every man we can spare.’ He sounded decisive now. Then he squinted up at the knights on the parapet. ‘But leave a detachment on guard there,’ he ordered.
‘We can still help, Captain,’ Tynian offered. ‘There’s a deep well here. We can turn out our men and pass buckets to your men outside the gate. Our major concern here must be the saving of Chyrellos. Everything else must be secondary to that.’
The captain hesitated.
‘Please, Captain!’ Tynian’s voice throbbed with sincerity. ‘I beg of you. Let us help.’
‘Very well,’ the captain snapped. ‘Open your gate. But no one is to leave the chapterhouse grounds.’
‘Of course not,’ Tynian replied.
‘Nicely done,’ Ulath grunted, tapping Tynian on the shoulder with his fist.
Tynian grinned at him. ‘Talking does pay off sometimes, my silent friend. You should try it sometime.’
‘I’d rather use an axe.’
‘Well, I guess I’ll be leaving now, my Lords,’ Talen said. ‘Was there anything you’d like to have me pick up for you – since I’ll be out and about anyway?’
‘Keep your mind on what you’re supposed to do,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘Just go and talk to Dolmant.’
‘And be careful,’ Kurik growled. ‘You’re a disappointing son sometimes, but I don’t want to lose you.’
‘Sentimentality, father?’ Talen said, affecting surprise.
‘Not really,’ Kurik replied. ‘Just a certain sense of responsibility to your mother.’
‘I’ll go with him,’ Berit said.
Talen looked critically at the rangy novice. ‘Forget it,’ he said shortly. ‘You’d just be in my way. Forgive me, revered teacher, but your feet are too big and your elbows stick out too far to move around quietly, and I don’t have time to teach you how to sneak right now.’ The boy disappeared into the shadows along the parapet.
‘Where did you find that rare youth?’ Bevier asked.
‘You wouldn’t believe it, Bevier,’ Kalten replied. ‘You absolutely wouldn’t believe it.’
‘Our Pandion brothers are perhaps a bit more worldly than the rest of us, Bevier,’ Tynian said sententiously. ‘We who fix our eyes firmly on heaven are not so versed in the seamier side of life as they are.’ He looked piously at Kalten. ‘We all serve, however, and I’m sure that God appreciates your efforts, no matter how dishonest or depraved.’
‘Well put,’ Ulath said with an absolutely straight face.
The fire in the thatched roof continued to smoke and steam as the church soldiers threw bucket after bucket of water onto it during the next quarter of an hour. Gradually, by sheer dint of numbers and the volume of water poured on it, the fire was quenched, leaving the owner of the stable bemoaning the saturation of his store of fodder, but preventing any spread of the flames.
‘Bravo, Captain, bravo!’ Tynian cheered from atop the wall.
‘Don’t overdo it,’ Ulath muttered to him.
‘It’s the first time I’ve ever seen any of those fellows do anything useful,’ Tynian protested. ‘That sort of thing ought to be encouraged.’
‘We could start some more fires, if you’d like,’ the huge Genidian offered. ‘We could keep them hauling water all week.’
Tynian tugged at one earlobe. ‘No,’ he said after a moment’s thought. ‘They might get bored when the novelty wears off and decide to let the city burn.’ He glanced at Kurik. ‘Did the boy get away?’ he asked.
‘As slick as a snake going down a rat hole,’ Sparhawk’s squire replied, trying to conceal the note of pride in his voice.
‘Someday you’ll have to tell us about why the lad keeps calling you “father”.’
‘We might get to that one day, my Lord Tynian,’ Kurik muttered.
