Domes of Fire by David Eddings

I tell you, Kalten,’ she said. ‘You’ll wind up doing it in the end anyway, and it won’t be nearly as painful for you if you don’t argue with me. Take out your sword and stab me in the heart with it.’
    ‘I don’t want to hurt you, Mirtai.’
    ‘ You? Hurt me? ’ Her laugh was sardonic.
    ‘You don’t have to be insulting about it,’ he said in an injured tone, drawing his sword.
    It had all begun when Mirtai had passed through the palace courtyard while Kalten was giving Khalad some instruction in swordsmanship. She had made a coupleof highly unflattering comments. One thing had led to another, and the end result had been this impromptu training session, during which Kalten and Khalad learned humility, if nothing else.
    ‘Stab me through the heart, Kalten,’ Mirtai said again.
    In Kalten’s defence it should be noted in passing that he really did try. He made a great deal of noise when he came down on his back on the flagstones.
    ‘He made the same mistake you did,’ Mirtai pointed out to Khalad. ‘He straightened his arm too much. A straight arm is a locked arm. Always keep your elbow slightly bent.’
    ‘We’re trained to thrust from the shoulder, Mirtai,’ Khalad explained.
    ‘There are a lot of Elenes, I suppose,’ she shrugged. ‘It shouldn’t be all that hard to replace you. The thing that makes me curious is why you all feel that it’s necessary to stick your sword all the way through somebody. If you haven’t hit the heart with the first six inches of the blade, another yard or so of steel going through the same hole won’t make much difference, will it?’
    ‘Maybe it’s because it looks dramatic,’ Khalad said.
    ‘You kill people for show? That’s contemptible, and it’s the sort of thinking that fills graveyards. Always keep your blade free so that you’re ready for your next enemy. People fold up when you run swords through them, and then you have to kick the body off the blade before you can use it again.’
    ‘I’ll try to remember that.’
    ‘I hope so. I rather like you, and I hate burying friends.’ She bent, professionally peeled Kalten’s eyelid back and glanced at his glazed eyeball. ‘You’d better throw a bucket of water on our friend here,’ she suggested. ‘He hasn’t learned how to fall yet. We’ll go into that next time.’
    ‘ Next time?’
    ‘Of course. If you’re going to learn how to do this, you’d better learn how to do it right.’ She gave Sparhawk a challenging look. ‘Would you like to try?’ she asked him.
    ‘Ah – no, Mirtai, not right now. Thanks all the same, though.’
    She went on into the palace, looking just slightly pleased with herself.
    ‘You know, I don’t think I really want to be a knight after all, Sparhawk,’ Talen said from nearby. ‘It looks awfully painful.’
    ‘Where have you been? My wife’s got people out looking for you.’
    ‘Yes. I saw them blundering around out in the streets. I had to go visit Platime in the cellar.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘He picked up something he thought you ought to be aware of. You know those unauthorised bandits in the hills near Cardos?’
    ‘Not personally, no.’
    ‘Funny, Sparhawk. Very funny. Platime’s found out that somebody we know is sort of directing their activities.’
    ‘Oh? Who’s that?’
    ‘Can you believe that it’s Krager? You should have killed him when you had the chance, Sparhawk.’

CHAPTER 3
    The fog drifted in from the river not long after the sun went down that evening. The nights in Cimmura were always foggy in the spring when it wasn’t raining. Sparhawk, Stragen and Talen left the palace wearing plain clothing and heavy traveller’s cloaks and rode to the southeast quarter of town.
    ‘You don’t necessarily have to tell your wife I said this, Sparhawk,’ Stragen noted, looking around with distaste, ‘but her capital’s one of the least attractive cities in the world. You’ve got a truly miserable climate here.’
    ‘It’s not so bad in