Читать книгу The Complete Elenium Trilogy: The Diamond Throne, The Ruby Knight, The Sapphire Rose - David Eddings - Страница 20

‘Any chance at all?’ Kalten asked.

‘No,’ Sparhawk replied with deep regret as he lowered Sir Parasim to the ground. ‘He’s gone.’ He smoothed the young knight’s hair with his hand, then gently closed the vacant eyes.

‘He wasn’t ready to come up against Adus,’ Kalten said.

‘Did that animal get completely away?’

‘I’m afraid so. After he cut down Parasim, he rode off to the south with about a dozen other survivors.’

‘Send some people after him,’ Sparhawk said bleakly as he straightened the fallen Sir Parasim’s limbs. ‘Tell them to run him into the sea if necessary.’

‘Do you want me to do it?’

‘No. You and I have to go to Chyrellos.’ He raised his voice then. ‘Berit,’ he shouted.

The novice approached at a half-run. He was wearing an old mail shirt splashed with blood and a dented foot soldier’s helmet with no visor. He carried a grim, long-handled battle-axe.

Sparhawk looked closely at the blood on the rangy youth’s mail shirt. ‘Is any of that yours?’ he asked.

‘No, my Lord,’ Berit answered. ‘All theirs.’ He looked pointedly at the mercenary dead littering the field.

‘Good. What’s your feeling about a long ride?’

‘As my Lord commands.’

‘He’s got good manners, at least,’ Kalten observed. ‘Berit,’ he said then, ‘ask “Where?” before you agree so quickly.’

‘I’ll remember that, my Lord Kalten.’

‘I want you to come with me,’ Sparhawk said to the novice. ‘We need to talk with Count Radun before you leave.’ He turned to Kalten. ‘Get a group of men to chase Adus,’ he said. ‘Push him hard. I don’t want him to have time to send one of his people to Cimmura to report all of this to Annias. Tell the rest of the men to bury our dead and care for the wounded.’

‘What about these?’ Kalten pointed at the dead bodies of the mercenaries heaped in front of the castle walls.

‘Burn them.’

Count Radun met Sparhawk and Berit in the courtyard of his castle. He was wearing full armour and held his sword in his hand. ‘I see that the reputation of the Pandions is well deserved,’ he said.

‘Thank you, my Lord,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘I have a favour – no, two favours – to ask of you.’

‘Anything, Sir Sparhawk.’

‘Are you known to any members of the Hierocracy in Chyrellos?’

‘Several, actually, and the Patriarch of Larium is a distant cousin of mine.’

‘Very good. I know it’s a bad season for travel, but I’d like you to join me in a little ride.’

‘Of course. Where are we going?’

‘To Chyrellos. The next favour is a bit more personal. I’ll need your signet ring.’

‘My ring?’ The count lifted his hand and looked at the heavy gold ring bearing his coat of arms.

Sparhawk nodded. ‘And worse yet, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to return it.’

‘I’m not sure that I understand.’

‘Berit here is going to take the ring to Cimmura and drop it in the collection plate during service in the cathedral there. The Primate Annias will take that to mean that his scheme has succeeded and that you and your family have all been murdered. He will then rush to Chyrellos to lay charges against the Pandions before the Hierocracy.’

Count Radun grinned broadly. ‘But then you and I will step forward and refute those charges, right?’

Sparhawk grinned back. ‘Exactly,’ he said.

‘That might cause the primate a certain amount of embarrassment,’ the count said as he tugged the ring off his finger.

‘That was sort of what we had in mind, my Lord.’

‘The ring is well lost, then,’ Radun said, handing his signet to Berit.

‘All right,’ Sparhawk said to the young novice. ‘Don’t kill any horses on your way to Cimmura. Give us time to get to Chyrellos before Annias does.’ He squinted thoughtfully. ‘Morning service, I think.’

‘My Lord?’

‘Drop the count’s ring in the collection plate during morning service. Let’s give Annias a whole day to gloat before he starts out for Chyrellos. Wear ordinary clothes when you go into the cathedral and pray a bit – just to make it look convincing. Don’t go near the chapterhouse or the inn on Rose Street.’ He looked at the young novice, feeling a renewed pang at the loss of Sir Parasim. ‘I can’t assure you that your life won’t be in danger, Berit,’ he said soberly, ‘so I can’t order you to do this.’

‘There’s no need to order me to do it, my Lord Sparhawk,’ Berit replied.

‘Good man,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Now go and get your horse. You’ve got a long ride ahead of you.’

It was nearly noon when Sparhawk and Count Radun emerged from the castle. ‘How long do you think it’s going to take for Primate Annias to reach Chyrellos?’ the count asked.

‘Two weeks at least. Berit has to get to Cimmura before Annias can even start for Chyrellos.’

Kurik came riding up to them. ‘Everything’s ready,’ he told Sparhawk.

Sparhawk nodded. ‘You’d better go and get Sephrenia,’ he said.

‘Is that really a good idea, Sparhawk? Things might get a little chancy when we get to Chyrellos.’

‘Do you want to be the one to tell her that she has to stay behind?’

Kurik winced. ‘I see what you mean,’ he said.

‘Where’s Kalten?’

‘Over there at the edge of the woods. He’s building a bonfire for some reason.’

‘Maybe he’s cold.’

The winter sun was very bright in the cold blue sky as Sparhawk and his party set out. ‘Surely, madame,’ Count Radun objected to Sephrenia, ‘the child would have been quite safe within the walls of my castle.’

‘She would not have stayed there, my Lord,’ Sephrenia replied in a small voice. She laid her cheek against Flute’s hair. ‘Besides,’ she added, ‘I take great comfort in having her with me.’ Her voice sounded weak somehow, and she looked very pale and tired. In one hand she carried Sir Parasim’s sword.

Sparhawk pulled Faran in beside her white palfrey. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked her quietly.

‘Not really,’ she answered.

‘What’s the matter?’ He felt a sudden alarm.

‘Parasim was one of the twelve knights in the throne room in Cimmura.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve just been obliged to shoulder his burden as well as my own.’ She gestured slightly with the sword.

‘You’re not ill, are you?’

‘Not in the way that you mean, no. It’s just that it’s going to take a little while to adjust to the additional weight.’

‘Is there any way that I could carry it for you?’

‘No, dear one.’

He drew in a deep breath. ‘Sephrenia,’ he said, ‘is what happened to Parasim today a part of what you told me was going to happen to the twelve knights?’

‘There’s no way to know, Sparhawk. The compact we made with the Younger Gods was not that specific.’ She smiled wanly. ‘If another of the knights dies this moon, though, we’ll know that it was merely an accident and had nothing to do with the compact.’

‘We’re going to lose them one every month?’

‘Moon,’ she corrected. ‘Twenty-eight days. Most probably yes. The Younger Gods tend to be methodical about such things. Don’t concern yourself about me, Sparhawk. I’ll be all right in a little while.’

It was some sixty leagues from the count’s castle to the city of Darra, and on the morning of the fourth day of their journey, they crested a hill and looked down upon the red tile roofs and the hundreds of chimneys sending pale blue columns of smoke straight up into the windless air. A black-armoured Pandion Knight awaited them on the hilltop. ‘Sir Sparhawk,’ the knight said, raising his visor.

‘Sir Olven,’ Sparhawk replied, recognizing the knight’s scarred face.

‘I’ve a message for you from Preceptor Vanion. He instructs you to proceed directly to Cimmura with all possible speed.’

‘Cimmura? Why the change in plans?’

‘King Dregos is there, and he’s invited Wargun of Thalesia and Obler of Deira to join him. He wants to investigate the illness of Queen Ehlana – and the justification for the appointment of the bastard Lycheas as Prince Regent. Vanion believes that Annias will level his charges against our order at that council in order to deflect an inquiry that might be embarrassing.’

Sparhawk swore. ‘Berit’s a good way ahead of us by now,’ he said. ‘Have all the kings gathered in Cimmura yet?’

Olven shook his head. ‘King Obler is too old to travel very fast, and it’s likely to take a week to sober King Wargun up before he can make the voyage from Emsat.’

‘Let’s not gamble on that,’ Sparhawk said. ‘We’ll cut across country to Demos and then ride directly to Cimmura. Is Vanion still at Chyrellos?’

‘No. He came through Demos on his way to Cimmura. The Patriarch Dolmant was with him.’

‘Dolmant?’ Kalten said. ‘That’s a surprise. Who’s running the Church?’

‘Sir Kalten,’ Count Radun said stiffly. ‘The guidance of the Church is in the hands of the Archprelate.’

‘Sorry, my Lord,’ Kalten apologized. ‘I know how much Arcians revere the Church, but let’s be honest. Archprelate Cluvonus is eighty-five years old and he sleeps a great deal. Dolmant doesn’t make an issue of it, but most of the decisions that come out of Chyrellos are his.’

‘Let’s ride,’ Sparhawk said.

It took them four days of hard travelling to reach Demos, where Sir Olven left them to return to the Pandion motherhouse, and it was three more days before they arrived at the gates of the chapterhouse in Cimmura.

‘Do you know where we can find Lord Vanion?’ Sparhawk asked the novice who came out into the courtyard to take their horses.

‘He’s in his study in the south tower, my Lord – with the Patriarch Dolmant.’

Sparhawk nodded and led the way inside and up the narrow stairs.

‘Thank God you arrived in time,’ Vanion greeted them.

‘Has Berit delivered the count’s ring yet?’ Sparhawk asked him.

Vanion nodded. ‘Two days ago. I had men inside the cathedral watching.’ He frowned slightly. ‘Was it altogether wise to entrust that kind of mission to a novice, Sparhawk?’

‘Berit’s a solid young man,’ Sparhawk explained, ‘and he isn’t widely known here in Cimmura. Most of the full-fledged knights are.’

‘I see. It was your command, Sparhawk. The decision was yours. How did things go in Arcium?’

‘Adus led the mercenaries,’ Kalten replied. ‘We didn’t see a sign of Martel. Otherwise, things went more or less as planned. Adus got away, though.’

Sparhawk drew in a deep breath. ‘We lost Parasim,’ he said sadly. ‘I’m sorry, Vanion. I tried to keep him out of the fight.’

Vanion’s eyes clouded with sudden grief.

‘I know,’ Sparhawk said, touching the older man’s shoulder. ‘I loved him, too.’ He saw the quick look that passed between Vanion and Sephrenia. She nodded slightly as if to advise the preceptor that Sparhawk knew that Parasim had been one of the twelve. Then Sparhawk straightened and introduced Count Radun and Vanion to each other.

‘I owe you my life, Lord Vanion,’ Radun said as they shook hands. ‘Please tell me how I can repay you.’

‘Your presence here in Cimmura is ample repayment, my Lord.’

‘Have the other kings joined my nephew as yet?’ the count asked.

‘Obler has,’ Vanion replied. ‘King Wargun is still at sea, though.’

A thin man dressed in a severe black cassock sat near the window. He appeared to be in his late fifties and had silvery hair. His face was ascetic and his eyes were very keen. Sparhawk crossed the room and knelt respectfully before him. ‘Your Grace,’ he greeted the Patriarch of Demos.

‘You’re looking well, Sir Sparhawk,’ the churchman told him. ‘It’s good to see you again.’ Then he looked over Sparhawk’s shoulder. ‘Have you been going to chapel, Kurik?’ he asked the squire.

‘Uh – whenever there’s opportunity, your Grace,’ Kurik answered, flushing slightly.

‘Excellent, my son,’ Dolmant said. ‘I’m sure that God is always glad to see you. How are Aslade and the boys?’

‘Well, your Grace. Thank you for asking.’

Sephrenia had been looking critically at the patriarch. ‘You haven’t been eating properly, Dolmant,’ she told him.

‘Sometimes I forget,’ he said. Then he smiled slyly at her. ‘My overwhelming concern with the conversion of the heathen fills all my waking thoughts. Tell me, Sephrenia, are you ready at last to put aside your pagan ways and embrace the true faith?’

‘Not yet, Dolmant,’ she replied, also smiling. ‘It was nice of you to ask, though.’

He laughed. ‘I thought I’d get the question out of the way early so we can converse without having it hanging over our heads.’ He looked curiously at Flute, who was walking about the room examining the furnishings. ‘And who is this beautiful child?’ he asked.

‘She’s a foundling, your Grace,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘We came across her near the Arcian border. She doesn’t talk, so we call her Flute.’

Dolmant looked at the little girl’s grass-stained feet. ‘And was there no time to bath her?’ he asked.

‘That would not be appropriate, your Grace,’ Sephrenia replied.

The patriarch looked puzzled at that. Then he looked again at Flute. ‘Come over here, child,’ he said.

Flute approached him warily.

‘And will you not speak – even to me?’

She raised her pipes and blew a questioning little note.

‘I see,’ Dolmant said. ‘Well, then, Flute, will you accept my blessing?’

She looked at him gravely, then shook her head.

‘She is a Styric child, Dolmant,’ Sephrenia explained. ‘An Elene blessing would have no meaning for her.’

Flute then reached out and took the patriarch’s thin hand and placed it over her heart. Dolmant’s eyes grew suddenly very wide and his expression troubled.

‘She will give you her blessing, however,’ Sephrenia told him. ‘And will you accept it?’

Dolmant’s eyes were still wide. ‘I think perhaps that I should not,’ he said, ‘but God help me, I will – and gladly.’

Flute smiled at him and then kissed both of his palms. Then she pirouetted away, her black hair flying and her pipes sounding joyously. The patriarch’s face was filled with wonder.

‘I expect that I’ll be summoned to the palace as soon as King Wargun arrives,’ Vanion said. ‘Annias wouldn’t want to miss the chance to confront me personally.’ He looked at Count Radun. ‘Did anyone see you arrive, my Lord?’ he asked.

Radun shook his head. ‘I had my visor down, my Lord Vanion, and at Sparhawk’s suggestion, I had covered the crest on my shield. I’m positive that no one knows that I’m in Cimmura.’

‘Good.’ Vanion grinned suddenly. ‘We wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise for Annias, would we?’

The expected summons from the palace arrived two days later. Vanion, Sparhawk, and Kalten put on the simple robes Pandions customarily wore inside the chapterhouse, though beneath them they wore mail coats and their swords. Dolmant and Radun wore the cowled black robes of monks. Sephrenia wore her usual white. She had spoken at some length with Flute, and it appeared that the little girl had agreed to remain behind. Kurik belted on a sword. ‘Just in case there’s trouble,’ he grunted to Sparhawk before the party left the chapterhouse.

The day was cold and raw. The sky was leaden, and a chill wind whistled through the streets of Cimmura as Vanion led them towards the palace. There were few people abroad in the streets. Sparhawk could not be sure if the citizens were staying inside because of the weather or because some rumours had leaked out about the possibility of trouble.

Not too far from the palace gate, Sparhawk saw a familiar figure. A lame beggar boy wrapped in a ragged cloak crutched his way out from the corner where he had been sheltering himself. ‘Charity, my Lords, Charity,’ he begged in a broken-hearted voice.

Sparhawk reined Faran in and reached inside his robe for a few coins.

‘I need to talk with you, Sparhawk,’ the boy said quietly after the others had ridden out of earshot.

‘Later,’ Sparhawk replied, bending in his saddle to place the coins in the boy’s begging bowl.

‘Not too much later, I hope,’ Talen said, shivering. ‘I’m freezing out here.’

There was a brief delay at the palace gate where the guards tried to deny entrance to Vanion’s escort. Kalten resolved the problem by pulling open his robe and putting his hand meaningfully on his sword hilt. The discussion ended abruptly at that point, and the party rode on into the palace courtyard and dismounted.

‘I love doing that,’ Kalten said blithely.

‘It doesn’t take very much to make you happy, does it?’ Sparhawk said.

‘I’m a simple man, my friend – with simple pleasures.’

They proceeded directly to the blue-draped council chamber where the kings of Arcium, Deira, and Thalesia sat on throne-like chairs, flanking the slack-lipped Lycheas. Behind each king stood a man in formal armour. The crests of the three other militant orders were emblazoned on their surcoats. Abriel, Preceptor of the Cyrinic Knights in Arcium, stood sternly behind King Dregos; Darellon, Preceptor of the Alcione Knights of Deira had taken up a similar position behind the aged King Obler; and the big-boned Komier, leader of the Genidian Knights, stood behind King Wargun of Thalesia. Although it was early in the day, Wargun was already bleary-eyed. He held a large silver cup in a hand that was visibly shaking.

The Royal Council of Advisors sat to one side of the room. The face of the Earl of Lenda was troubled, while that of the Baron Harparin was smug.

The Primate Annias wore a purple satin cassock, and the expression on his emaciated face was coldly triumphant as Vanion entered. When he saw the rest of them accompanying the Pandion Preceptor, however, his eyes flashed angrily. ‘Who authorized this entourage of yours, Lord Vanion?’ he demanded. ‘The summons did not mention an escort.’

‘I require no authorization, your Grace,’ Vanion answered coldly. ‘My rank is all the authority I need.’

‘That’s true,’ the Earl of Lenda said. ‘Law and custom support the preceptor’s position.’

Annias gave the old man a look filled with hate. ‘What a comfort it is to have the advice of one so versed in the law,’ he said in a sarcastic voice. Then his eyes fell on Sephrenia. ‘Remove that Styric witch from my presence,’ he demanded.

‘No,’ Vanion said. ‘She stays.’

Their eyes locked for a long moment, and Annias finally looked away. ‘Very well, then, Vanion,’ he said. ‘Because of the seriousness of the matter I am about to present to their majesties, I will control my natural revulsion at the presence of a heathen sorceress.’

‘You’re too kind,’ Sephrenia murmured.

‘Just get on with it, Annias,’ King Dregos said irritably. ‘We’re gathered here to examine certain irregularities involving the throne of Elenia. What is this burning matter that is important enough to delay our inquiry?’

Annias straightened. ‘The matter concerns you directly, your Majesty. Last week a body of armed men attacked a castle in the eastern part of your kingdom.’

King Dregos’ eyes blazed. ‘Why was I not informed?’ he demanded.

‘Forgive me, your Majesty,’ Annias apologized. ‘I myself learned of the incident only recently and I felt it wiser to present the matter to this council rather than to advise you in advance. Although this outrage occurred within the boundaries of your kingdom, the implications of it spread beyond your borders to all four western kingdoms.’

‘Get on with it, Annias,’ King Wargun growled. ‘Save the flowery language for your sermons.’

‘As your Majesty wishes,’ Annias said, bowing. ‘There are witnesses to this criminal act, and I think perhaps it were best that your Majesties hear their accounts directly rather than at second hand from me.’ He turned and gestured to one of the red-liveried church soldiers who lined both walls of the council chamber. The soldier stepped to a side door and admitted a nervous-looking man whose face went visibly pale when he saw Vanion.

‘Don’t be afraid, Tessera,’ Annias told him. ‘So long as you tell the truth, no harm will come to you.’

‘Yes, your Grace,’ the nervous man mumbled.

‘This is Tessera,’ Annias introduced him, ‘a merchant of this city who has recently returned from Arcium. Tell us what you saw there, Tessera.’

‘Well, your Grace, it was as I told you before. I was in Sarrinium on business. I was returning from there when I was overtaken by a storm, and I took shelter in the castle of Count Radun, who was kind enough to take me in.’ Tessera’s voice had the sing-song quality some people assume when they are reciting something previously committed to memory. ‘Anyway,’ he went on, ‘after the weather cleared, I was preparing to leave and I was in the count’s stables seeing to my horse. I heard the sounds of many men in the courtyard, so I peered out the stable door to see what was happening. It was a sizeable body of Pandion Knights.’

‘Are you certain that they were Pandions?’ Annias prompted him.

‘Yes, your Grace. They were wearing black armour and carrying Pandion banners. The count is well known to be most respectful of the Church and her knights, so he had admitted them without challenge. As soon as they were inside the walls, however, they all drew their swords and began to kill everyone in sight.’

‘My uncle!’ King Dregos exclaimed.

‘The count tried to fight them, of course, but they quickly disarmed him and tied him to a stake in the centre of the courtyard. They killed all the men inside the castle, and then –’

‘All the men?’ Annias interrupted him, his face suddenly stern.

‘They killed all the men inside the castle, and then – ’ Tessera faltered. ‘Oh, I almost forgot that part. They killed all the men inside the castle – except for the churchmen – and then they brought out the count’s wife and daughters. They were all stripped naked and then violated before the count’s eyes.’

A sob escaped the King of Arcium. ‘My aunt and my cousins,’ he cried.

‘Steady, Dregos,’ King Wargun said, putting his hand on the other king’s shoulder.

‘Then,’ Tessera continued, ‘after the count’s womenfolk had all been repeatedly raped, they were dragged one by one to a spot directly before where the count was tied and their throats were cut. The count wept and tried to tear his hands free, but his bonds were too tight. He pleaded with the Pandions to stop, but they only laughed and continued their butchery. Finally, when his wife and daughters were all dead and lying in their own blood, he asked them why they were doing this. One of them, the leader, I think, replied that it was on the orders of Lord Vanion, the Preceptor of the Pandions.’

King Dregos leapt to his feet. He was weeping openly and clawing at his sword hilt. Annias stepped in front of him. ‘I share your outrage, your Majesty, but a quick death for this monstrous Vanion would be far too merciful. Let us hear this good, honest man out. Go on with your account, Tessera.’

‘There isn’t much more to tell, your Grace,’ Tessera replied. ‘Once the Pandions had killed all the women, they tortured the count to the point of death and then they beheaded him. After that, they drove the churchmen out of the castle and looted the place.’

‘Thank you, Tessera,’ Annias said. He motioned to another of his soldiers, and the guard went to the same side door to admit a man dressed in a peasant smock. The peasant had a slightly furtive look and he was trembling noticeably.

‘Say your name, fellow,’ Annias ordered.

‘I am Verl, your Grace, an honest serf from the estate of Count Radun.’

‘And why are you in Cimmura? A serf may not leave the estate of his lord without permission.’

‘I fled, your Grace, after the murder of the count and all his family.’

‘Can you tell us what happened? Did you witness this atrocity?’

‘Not directly, your Grace. I was working in a field near the count’s castle when I saw a large group of men dressed in black armour and carrying the banners of the Pandion Knights ride out of the castle. One of them had the count’s head on the point of his spear. I hid myself and I could hear them talking and laughing as they rode by.’

‘What were they saying?’

‘The one who was carrying the count’s head said, “We must carry this trophy to Demos to prove to Lord Vanion that we have carried out his orders.” After they had gone past, I ran to the castle and found everyone inside dead. I was afraid that the Pandions might come back, so I ran away.’

‘Why did you come to Cimmura?’

‘To report the crime to you, your Grace, and to place myself under your protection. I was afraid that if I stayed in Arcium, the Pandions would hunt me down and kill me.’

‘Why did you do this?’ Dregos demanded of Vanion. ‘My uncle has never given any offence to your order.’

The other kings were also glaring at the Pandion Preceptor accusingly.

Dregos wheeled round to glare at Prince Lycheas. ‘I insist that this murderer be placed in chains!’

Lycheas tried without much success to look like a king. ‘Your demand is reasonable, your Majesty,’ he said in his nasal voice. He cast a quick look at Annias, seeking reassurance. ‘We therefore command that this miscreant Vanion be placed –’

‘Um, excuse me, your Majesties,’ the Earl of Lenda interposed, ‘but by law, Lord Vanion is entitled to present his defence.’

‘What defence can there possibly be?’ Dregos asked in a sick voice.

Sparhawk and the others had remained at the back of the council chamber. Sephrenia made a small gesture, and Sparhawk leaned towards her. ‘Someone here is using magic,’ she whispered. ‘That’s why the kings are so willing to accept the infantile charges against Vanion. The spell induces belief.’

‘Can you counter it?’ he whispered back.

‘Only if I know who’s doing it.’

‘It’s Annias. He tried a spell on me when I first came back to Cimmura.’

‘A churchman?’ she looked surprised. ‘All right. I’ll take care of it.’ Her lips began to move, and she concealed her hands in her sleeves to hide their gesturing.

‘Well, Vanion,’ Annias sneered, ‘what have you to say for yourself?’

‘These men are obviously lying,’ Vanion replied scornfully.

‘Why would they lie?’ Annias turned to the kings seated at the front of the room. ‘As soon as I received the reports of these witnesses, I dispatched a troop of church soldiers to the count’s castle to verify the details of this crime. I expect their report within the next week. In the meantime, it is my recommendation that the Pandion Knights all be disarmed and confined within their chapterhouses to prevent any further atrocities.’

King Obler stroked his long grey beard. ‘Under the circumstances, that would be the prudent course,’ he said sagely. He turned to Darellon of the Alcione Knights. ‘My Lord Darellon,’ he said. ‘Dispatch a rider to Deira. Tell him to bring your knights to Elenia. They are to assist the civil authorities here in disarming and confining the Pandions.’

‘It shall be as your Majesty commands,’ Abriel replied, glaring at Vanion.

The aged King of Deira looked at King Wargun and King Dregos. ‘I would strongly advise that the Cyrinics and Genidians also send forces,’ he said. ‘Let us seal up these Pandions until we can separate the innocent from the guilty.’

‘See to it, Komier,’ King Wargun said.

‘Send your knights as well, Abriel,’ King Dregos commanded the Preceptor of the Cyrinics. He glared at Vanion with hate-filled eyes. ‘I pray that your underlings attempt to resist,’ he said fiercely.

‘A splendid idea, your Majesties,’ Annias said, bowing. ‘I would further suggest that as soon as we receive confirmation of the murders, your Majesties travel with me and these two honest witnesses to Chyrellos. There we can lay the entire affair before the Hierocracy of the Church and the Archprelate himself with our strong recommendation that the Pandion Order be disbanded. Strictly speaking, that order is under Church authority, and only the Church can make the final decision.’

‘Truly,’ Dregos grated. ‘Let us rid ourselves of this Pandion infection once and for all.’

A thin smile touched the primate’s lips. Then he flinched, and his face went deathly pale as Sephrenia released her counterspell.

It was at that point that Dolmant stepped forward, pushing back the hood of his monk’s robe to reveal his face. ‘May I speak, your Majesties?’ he asked.

‘Y-your Grace,’ Annias stammered in surprise, ‘I didn’t know that you were in Cimmura.’

‘I didn’t think you did, Annias. As you’ve so correctly pointed out, the Pandions are under Church authority. As the ranking churchman present, I think it’s proper for me to take charge of this inquiry. You are to be commended for the way in which you have conducted things thus far, however.’

‘But –’

‘That will be all, Annias,’ Dolmant dismissed him. He turned then to the kings and to Lycheas, who was staring open-mouthed at him.

‘Your Majesties,’ the patriarch began, pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind him as if deep in thought. ‘This is indeed a serious accusation. Let us, however, consider the character of the accusers. On the one hand, we have an untitled merchant, and on the other, a runaway serf. The accused is the preceptor of an order of Church Knights, a man whose honour has always been above question. Why would a man of Lord Vanion’s stature commit such a crime? Indeed, we have as yet received no substantiation that the crime did in fact take place. Let us not move in haste.’

‘As I mentioned, your Grace,’ Annias injected, ‘I have dispatched church soldiers to Arcium to view the scene of the crime with their own eyes. I have also ordered them to seek out the churchmen who were in the castle of Count Radun and witnessed this horror and to return with them to Cimmura. Their reports should leave no doubts whatsoever.’

‘Ah, yes,’ Dolmant agreed. ‘None whatsoever. I think, however, that I might be able to save us a bit of time. As it happens, I myself have with me a man who witnessed what happened at the castle of Count Radun, and I don’t think his testimony can be questioned by any man here.’ He looked at the robed and cowled Count Radun, who had remained unobtrusively at the rear of the chamber. ‘Would you be so good as to step forward, brother?’ he said.

Annias was gnawing on a fingernail. His expression clearly showed his chagrin at having the proceedings taken out of his grasp and at the appearance of Dolmant’s unexpected witness.

‘Would you reveal your identity to us, brother?’ Dolmant asked mildly as the count joined him before the kings.

There was a tight grin on Radun’s face as he pushed back his hood.

‘Uncle!’ King Dregos gasped in astonishment.

‘Uncle?’ King Wargun exclaimed, coming to his feet and spilling his wine.

‘This is Count Radun – my uncle,’ Dregos told him, his eyes still wide with amazement.

‘You seem to have made an astonishing recovery, Radun.’ Wargun laughed. ‘My congratulations. Tell me, how did you stick your head back on?’

Annias had gone very pale. He stared in stunned disbelief at Count Radun. ‘How did you –’ he blurted. Then he recovered. He looked around wildly for an instant as if seeking a way to escape. Then he seemed to get hold of himself. ‘Your Majesties,’ he stammered, ‘I have been misled by false witnesses. Please forgive me.’ He was visibly sweating now. Then he spun about. ‘Seize those two liars!’ He pointed at Tessera and Verl, who were both cringing in terror. Several red-liveried guards quickly rushed the pair from the room.

‘Annias thinks very fast on his feet, doesn’t he?’ Kalten murmured to Sparhawk. ‘How much would you care to wager that those two will manage somehow to hang themselves before the sun goes down – with a certain amount of help, of course?’

‘I’m not a betting man, Kalten,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘Not on a proposition like that, anyway.’

‘Why don’t you tell us what really happened at your castle, Count Radun?’ Dolmant suggested.

‘It was really fairly simple, your Grace,’ Radun replied. ‘Sir Sparhawk and Sir Kalten arrived at my gates some time ago and warned me that a group of men dressed in the armour of Pandion Knights were planning to gain entry by subterfuge and murder me and my family. They had a number of real Pandions with them. When the impostors arrived, Sir Sparhawk led his knights against them and drove them off.’

‘Fortuitous,’ King Obler observed. ‘Which of these stalwarts is Sir Sparhawk?’

Sparhawk stepped forward. ‘I am, your Majesty.’

‘How did you become aware of this plot?’

‘It was quite by accident, your Majesty. I happened to overhear a conversation concerning it. I immediately informed Lord Vanion, and he ordered Kalten and me to take preventive steps.’

King Dregos rose to his feet and came down from the dais. ‘I have wronged you, Lord Vanion,’ he said in a thick voice. ‘Your motives were the very best, and I accused you. Can you forgive me?’

‘There is nothing to forgive, your Majesty,’ Vanion replied. ‘Under the circumstances, I’d have done exactly the same.’

The Arcian King took the preceptor’s hand and clasped it warmly.

‘Tell me, Sir Sparhawk,’ King Obler asked, ‘could you by chance identify the plotters?’

‘I couldn’t see their faces, your Majesty.’

‘A shame, really,’ the old king sighed. ‘It would appear that the plot was fairly widespread. The two who came before us to testify would also seem to have been a part of it, and at some prearranged signal were to have stepped forward with their obviously well-coached lies.’

‘That same thought had occurred to me, your Majesty,’ Sparhawk agreed.

‘But who was behind it? And against whom was it really directed? Count Radun, perhaps? Or King Dregos? Or even Lord Vanion?’

‘That might be impossible to determine – unless the so-called witnesses can be persuaded to identify their fellow plotters.’

‘Excellent point, Sir Sparhawk.’ King Obler looked sternly at the Primate Annias. ‘It lies upon you, your Grace, to ensure that the merchant Tessera and the serf Verl are available for questioning. We would all be most distressed should anything of a permanent nature happen to either of them.’

Annias’ face grew stiff. ‘I shall have them both closely guarded, your Majesty,’ he assured the King of Deira. He gestured to one of his soldiers and muttered some instructions to the man, who blanched slightly, then hurried from the room.

‘Sir Sparhawk,’ Lycheas blustered, ‘you were ordered to Demos and told to remain there until you received permission to leave. Why is it that you –’

‘Be still, Lycheas,’ Annias snapped at him.

A slow flush crept up the pimpled young man’s face.

‘I would say that you owe Lord Vanion an apology, Annias,’ Dolmant said pointedly.

Annias paled and then turned stiffly to the Pandion chief. ‘Please accept my apologies, Lord Vanion,’ he said shortly. ‘I was misled by liars.’

‘Of course, my dear Primate,’ Vanion replied. ‘We all blunder from time to time, don’t we?’

‘I believe that more or less concludes this matter then,’ Dolmant said. He cast a sidelong glance at Annias, who was obviously making a great effort to control his emotions. ‘Be assured, Annias,’ the Patriarch of Demos said to him, ‘I will cast this entire matter in as charitable a light as I can when I make my report to the Hierocracy in Chyrellos. I’ll try my very best not to make you look like a complete idiot.’

Annias bit his lip.

‘Tell us, Sir Sparhawk,’ King Obler said, ‘could you in any way identify the people who approached the count’s castle?’

‘The man who was leading them is named Adus, your Majesty,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘He’s a thick-witted savage who does the bidding of a renegade Pandion named Martel. Many of his men were just ordinary mercenaries. The rest were Rendors.’

‘Rendors?’ King Dregos said, his eyes narrowing. ‘There have been tensions of late between my kingdom and Rendor, but this plot seems a bit involuted for the Rendorish mind.’

‘We could spend hours in speculation, Dregos,’ King Wargun said, holding his empty wine cup out for a serving man to refill. ‘An hour or so on the rack should persuade the merchant and the serf down in the dungeon to tell us what they know about their fellow plotters.’

‘The Church does not approve of such methods, your Majesty,’ Dolmant said.

Wargun snorted derisively. ‘The dungeons beneath the Basilica of Chyrellos are reputed to employ the most expert interrogators in the world,’ he said.

‘That practice is being discontinued.’

‘Perhaps,’ Wargun said, ‘but this is a civil matter. We’re not constrained by churchly delicacy, and I for one don’t propose to wait while you pray an answer out of those two.’

Lycheas, who had been smarting from the almost absent-minded rebuke Annias had delivered to him, straightened on his throne-like chair. ‘We are delighted that this matter has been resolved so amicably,’ he announced, ‘and we rejoice that the reports concerning the death of Count Radun have proved to be unfounded. I agree with the Patriarch of Demos that we can consider this inquiry concluded – unless Lord Vanion’s excellent witnesses can shed further light on just who might have been behind this monstrous conspiracy.’

‘No, your Highness,’ Vanion told him. ‘We are not prepared at this time to do so.’

Lycheas turned to the kings of Thalesia, Deira, and Arcium, trying with scant success to look regal. ‘Our time, your Majesties, is short,’ he said. ‘We each have kingdoms to rule, and there are other matters requiring our attention. I suggest that we tender Lord Vanion our appreciation for his aid in clarifying this situation and give him permission to withdraw so that we may turn to state matters.’

The kings nodded their agreement.

‘You and your friends may leave now, Lord Vanion,’ Lycheas said grandly.

‘Thank you, your Highness,’ Vanion replied with a stiff bow. ‘We are all happy to have been of service to you.’ He turned and started towards the door.

‘A moment, Lord Vanion,’ Darellon, the slightly built Preceptor of the Alcione Knights said. Then he stepped forward. ‘Since your Majesties’ conversations will now turn on state matters, I think that I, Lord Komier, and Lord Abriel will also withdraw. We are little versed in statecraft and could contribute nothing of value to your discussions. The matter that has come to light this morning, however, requires some consultation among the militant orders. Should conspiracies of this nature recur, we must make preparations to meet them.’

‘Well said,’ Komier agreed.

‘A splendid idea, Darellon,’ King Obler gave his assent. ‘Let’s not be caught asleep again. Keep me advised of the thrust of your discussions.’

‘You may rely upon me, your Majesty.’

The preceptors of the other three orders marched down from the dais and joined Vanion, who led the way from the ornate audience chamber. Once they were out in the corridor, Komier, the hulking Preceptor of the Genidian Knights, grinned openly. ‘Very neat, Vanion,’ he said.

‘I’m glad you liked it.’ Vanion grinned back.

‘My head must have been packed in wool this morning,’ Komier confessed. ‘Would you believe I almost accepted all that tripe?’

‘It was not entirely your fault, Lord Komier,’ Sephrenia told him.

He gave her a questioning look.

‘Let me think my way through it a bit more,’ she said, frowning.

The big Thalesian looked at Vanion. ‘It was Annias, wasn’t it?’ he guessed shrewdly as they progressed down the hall. ‘The scheme was his, I take it?’

Vanion nodded. ‘The Pandion presence in Elenia is hindering his operations. He saw this as a way to remove us.’

‘Elenian politics get a bit dense sometimes. We’re much more direct in Thalesia. Just how powerful is the Primate of Cimmura?’

Vanion shrugged. ‘He controls the Royal Council. That makes him more or less the ruler of the kingdom.’

‘Does he want the throne for himself?’

‘No, I don’t think so. He prefers to manipulate things from behind the scenes. He’s trying to groom Lycheas for the throne.’

‘Lycheas is a bastard, isn’t he?’

Vanion nodded again.

‘How can a bastard be king? Nobody knows who his father is.’

‘Annias probably believes he can get around that problem. Until Sparhawk’s father intervened, our good primate had very nearly convinced King Aldreas that it was perfectly legitimate for him to marry his own sister.’

‘That’s disgusting,’ Komier shuddered.

‘I’ve heard that Annias has certain ambitions involving the Archprelate’s throne in Chyrellos,’ Abriel, the grey-haired Preceptor of the Cyrinic Knights, said to Patriarch Dolmant.

‘I’ve heard some of the same rumours myself,’ Dolmant replied blandly.

‘This humiliation is going to be quite a setback for him, isn’t it? The Hierocracy’s likely to look with some disfavour on a man who makes a total ass of himself in public.’

‘That thought had crossed my mind as well.’

‘And your report will be quite detailed, I expect?’

‘That is my obligation, Lord Abriel,’ Dolmant said piously. ‘As a member of the Hierocracy myself, I could hardly conceal any of the facts, could I? I will have to present the whole truth to the high councils of the Church.’

‘We wouldn’t have it any other way, your Grace.’

‘We’re going to need to talk, Vanion,’ Darellon, the Preceptor of the Alcione Knights, said seriously. ‘This scheme was directed at you and your order this time, but it concerns us all. It could be any one of us the next time. Is there someplace secure where we can discuss this matter?’

‘Our chapterhouse is on the eastern edge of the city,’ Vanion replied. ‘I can guarantee that none of the primate’s spies are inside its walls.’

As they rode out through the palace gates, Sparhawk remembered something and slowed to ride with Kurik at the rear of the column.

‘What’s the matter?’ Kurik asked.

‘Let’s drop behind a little bit. I want to talk with that beggar boy.’

‘That’s hardly good manners, Sparhawk,’ Kurik said. ‘A meeting of the preceptors of all four orders happens about once in a lifetime, and they’re going to have some questions for you.’

‘We can catch up with them before they get to the chapterhouse.’

‘What do you want to talk to a beggar for?’ Kurik sounded more than a little irritated.

‘He’s working for me.’ Sparhawk gave his friend an appraising look. ‘What’s bothering you, Kurik?’ he asked. ‘Your face looks like a rain cloud.’

‘Never mind,’ Kurik replied shortly.

Talen was still huddled in the angle between two intersecting walls. He had his ragged cloak wrapped about him and he was shivering.

Sparhawk dismounted a few feet from the boy and made some pretence of checking his saddle girth. ‘What did you want to tell me?’ he said quietly.

‘That man you had me watching,’ Talen began. ‘Krager, wasn’t that his name? He left Cimmura about the same time you did, but he came back a week or so later. There was another man with him – a fellow with white hair. It sort of stands out because he’s not really that old. Anyway, they went to the house of that Baron who’s so fond of little boys. They stayed there for several hours, and then they rode out of town again. I got close enough to them at the east gate to hear them talking with the gate guards. When the guard asked their destination, they said they were going to Cammoria.’

‘Good lad,’ Sparhawk congratulated him, dropping a gold crown into the begging bowl.

‘Child’s play,’ Talen shrugged. He bit the coin and then tucked it inside his tunic. ‘Thanks, Sparhawk.’

‘Why didn’t you tell the porter at the inn on Rose Street?’

‘The place is being watched. I decided to play it safe.’ Then Talen looked over the big knight’s shoulder. ‘Hello, Kurik,’ he said. ‘I haven’t seen you for a long time.’

‘You two know each other?’ Sparhawk was a bit surprised.

Kurik flushed, looking embarrassed.

‘You wouldn’t believe how far back our friendship goes, Sparhawk,’ Talen said with a sly little smile at Kurik.

‘That’s enough, Talen,’ Kurik said sharply. Then his expression softened slightly. ‘How’s your mother?’ he asked. There was a strange, wistful note in his voice.

‘She’s doing quite well, actually. When you add what I make to what you give her from time to time, she’s comfortably off.’

‘Am I missing something here?’ Sparhawk asked mildly.

‘It’s a personal matter, Sparhawk,’ Kurik told him. Then he turned to the boy. ‘What are you doing out here in the streets, Talen?’ he demanded.

‘I’m begging, Kurik. You see?’ Talen held out his bowl. ‘That’s what this is for. Would you like to drop something in for old times’ sake?’

‘I put you in a very good school, boy.’

‘Oh, it was very good indeed. The headmaster used to tell us how good it was three times a day – at mealtimes. He and the other teachers ate roast beef. The students got porridge. I don’t like porridge all that much, so I enrolled in a different school.’ He gestured extravagantly at the street. ‘This is my classroom now. Do you like it? The lessons I learn here are much more useful than rhetoric or philosophy or all that tiresome theology. If I pay attention, I can earn enough to buy my own roast beef – or anything else, for that matter.’

‘I ought to thrash you, Talen,’ Kurik threatened.

‘Why, father,’ the boy replied, wide-eyed, ‘what a thing to suggest.’ He laughed. ‘Besides, you’d have to catch me first. That’s the first lesson I learned in my new school. Would you like to see how well I learned it?’ He took up his crutch and begging bowl and ran off down the street. He was, Sparhawk noted, very fast on his feet.

Kurik started to swear.

‘Father?’ Sparhawk asked.

‘I told you that this is none of your business, Sparhawk.’

‘We don’t keep any secrets from each other, Kurik.’

‘You’re going to push this, aren’t you?’

‘Me? I’m just curious, that’s all. This is a side of you I’ve never seen before.’

‘I was indiscreet some years ago.’

‘That’s a delicate way to put it.’

‘I can do without the clever remarks, Sparhawk.’

‘Does Aslade know about this?’

‘Of course not. It would only make her unhappy if I told her. I kept quiet about it to spare her feelings. A man owes that to his wife, doesn’t he?’

‘I understand perfectly, Kurik,’ Sparhawk assured him. ‘And was Talen’s mother so very beautiful?’

Kurik sighed, and his face grew oddly soft. ‘She was eighteen, and like a spring morning. I couldn’t help myself, Sparhawk. I love Aslade, but …?

Sparhawk put his arm about his friend’s shoulder. ‘It happens sometimes, Kurik,’ he said. ‘Don’t beat yourself over the head about it.’ Then he straightened. ‘Why don’t we see if we can catch up with the others?’ he suggested, as he swung back up into his saddle.