‘That’s absurd,’ Sparhawk fumed.

‘That’s what Lord Vanion thought. The document appeared to be quite genuine, though, and Duke Osten died years ago, so there wasn’t any way to refute the claim. The Earl of Lenda examined the parchment very closely, and finally even he had to vote to legitimize Lycheas.’

Sparhawk swore

‘I knew Duke Osten,’ Kalten said. ‘He was a confirmed bachelor There’s no way he’d have married. He despised women.’

‘Is there some problem?’ Patriarch Dolmant asked, riding back down the road to join them with Sephrenia, Kurik, and Talen close behind him.

‘The Royal Council has voted to legitimize Lycheas,’ Kalten told him. ‘Annias produced a paper that says that Princess Arissa was married.’

‘How strange,’ Dolmant said.

‘And how convenient,’ Sephrenia added.

‘Could the document have been falsified?’ Dolmant asked.

‘Easily, your Grace,’ Talen told him. ‘I know a man in Cimmura who could provide irrefutable proof that Archprelate Cluvonus has nine wives – including a lady Troll and an Ogress.’

‘Well, it’s done now,’ Sparhawk said. ‘It puts Lycheas one step closer to the throne, I’m afraid.’

‘When did this happen, Berit?’ Kurik asked the novice.

‘Late last night.’

Kurik scratched at his beard. ‘Princess Arissa’s cloistered at Demos,’ he said. ‘If Annias came up with this scheme just recently, she may not know she’s a wife.’

‘Widow,’ Berit corrected.

‘All right – widow, then. Arissa’s always been rather proud of the fact that she lay down with just about every man in Cimmura – begging your pardon, your Grace – and that she did it on her own terms without ever having been to the altar. If someone approached her right, it shouldn’t be too hard to get her to sign a statement that she’s never been married. Wouldn’t that sort of muddy up the waters a little?’

‘Where did you find this man, Sparhawk?’ Kalten asked admiringly. ‘He’s a treasure.’

Sparhawk was thinking very fast now. ‘Legitimacy – or illegitimacy – is a civil matter,’ he noted, ‘since it has to do with inheritance rights and things such as that, but the wedding ceremony is always a religious one, isn’t it, your Grace?’

‘Yes,’ Dolmant agreed.

‘If you and I were to get the kind of statement from Arissa that Kurik just mentioned, could the Church issue a declaration of her spinsterhood?’

Dolmant considered it. ‘It’s highly irregular,’ he said dubiously

‘But it is possible?’

‘I suppose so, yes.’

‘Then Annias could be ordered by the Church to withdraw his spurious document, couldn’t he?’ ‘Of course’

Sparhawk turned to Kalten. ‘Who inherited Duke Osten’s lands and titles?’ he asked.

‘His nephew – a complete ass. He’s very impressed with his dukedom and he spends money faster than he earns it.’

‘How would he react if he were suddenly disinherited and the lands and title were passed to Lycheas instead?’

‘You’d be able to hear the screams in Thalesia.’

A slow smile cross Sparhawk’s face. ‘I know an honest magistrate in Vardenais, and the affair would be in his jurisdiction. If the current duke were to take the matter into litigation, and if he presented the Church declaration to support his position, the magistrate would rule in his favour, wouldn’t he?’

Kalten grinned broadly ‘He wouldn’t have any choice.’

‘Wouldn’t that sort of de-legitimize Lycheas again?’

Dolmant was smiling. Then he assumed a pious expression. ‘Let us press on to Demos, dear friends,’ he suggested. ‘I feel a sudden yearning to hear the confession of a certain sinner.’

‘Do you know something?’ Talen said. ‘I always thought that thieves were the most devious people in the world, but nobles and churchmen make us look like amateurs.’

‘How would Platime handle the situation?’ Kalten asked as they set off again.

‘He’d stick a knife in Lycheas.’ Talen shrugged. ‘Dead bastards can’t inherit thrones, can they?’

Kalten laughed. ‘It has a certain direct charm, I’ll admit.’

‘You cannot solve the world’s problems by murder, Kalten,’ Dolmant said disapprovingly

‘Why, your Grace, I wasn’t talking about murder. The Church Knights are the Soldiers of God. If God tells us to kill somebody, it’s an act of faith, not murder. Do you suppose the Church could see its way clear to instruct Sparhawk and me to dispatch Lycheas – and Annias – and Otha too, while we’re at it?’

‘Absolutely not!’

Kalten sighed. ‘It was only a thought.’

‘Who’s Otha?’ Talen asked curiously

‘Where did you grow up, boy?’ Berit asked him.

‘In the streets.’

‘Even in the streets you must have heard of the Emperor of Zemoch.’

‘Where’s Zemoch?’

‘If you’d stayed in that school I put you in, you’d know,’ Kurik growled.

‘Schools bore me, Kurik,’ the boy responded. ‘They spent months trying to teach me my letters. Once I learned how to write my own name, I didn’t think I needed any of the rest of it.’

‘That’s why you don’t know where Zemoch is or why Otha may be the one who kills you.’

‘Why would somebody I don’t even know want to kill me?’

‘Because you’re an Elene.’

‘Everybody’s an Elene – except for the Styrics, of course’

‘This boy has a long way to go,’ Kalten observed. ‘Somebody ought to take him in hand.’

‘If it please you, my Lords,’ Berit said, choosing his words carefully, largely, Sparhawk guessed, because of the presence of the revered Patriarch of Demos, ‘I know that you have pressing matters on your minds. I was never more than a passing fair scholar of history, but I will undertake the instruction of this urchin in the rudiments of the subject.’

‘I love to listen to this young man talk,’ Kalten said. ‘The formality almost makes me swoon with delight.’

‘Urchin?’ Talen objected loudly.

Berit’s expression did not change. With an almost casual backhanded swipe he knocked Talen out of his saddle. ‘Your first lesson, young man, is respect for your teacher,’ he said. ‘Never question his words.’