‘That, my young friend, is a very, very long story,’ Sparhawk told him.

‘Not dead?’ Sir Tynian asked in a shocked tone. ‘Surely not dead.’

‘No,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘That would be impossible. Flute is immortal.’

‘No human is immortal, Sparhawk,’ Bevier protested in a shocked voice.

‘Exactly,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘Flute’s not human. She’s the Styric Child-Goddess Aphrael.’

‘Heresy!’ Bevier gasped.

‘You wouldn’t think so if you’d been in Ghwerig’s cave, Sir Bevier,’ Kurik told him. ‘I saw her rise from a bottomless abyss with my own eyes.’

‘A spell, perhaps?’ But Bevier did not seem quite so sure of himself now.

‘No, Bevier,’ Sephrenia said. ‘No spell could have accomplished what she did in that cave. She was – and is – Aphrael.’

‘Before we get involved in a theological dispute here, I need some information,’ Sparhawk said. ‘How did you all get away from Wargun, and what’s happening in the city?’

‘Wargun wasn’t really a problem,’ Vanion told him. ‘We came through Cimmura on our way south, and things went more or less the way we’d planned them at Acie. We threw Lycheas into the dungeon, put the Earl of Lenda in charge and persuaded the army and the church soldiers here in Cimmura to march south with us.’

‘How did you manage that?’ Sparhawk asked with some surprise.

‘Vanion’s a very good persuader,’ Kalten grinned. ‘Most of the generals were loyal to Primate Annias, but when they tried to object, Vanion invoked that Church Law the Earl of Lenda mentioned back at Acie and took command of the army. The generals still objected until he marched them all down to the courtyard. After Ulath had beheaded a few of them, most of the rest decided to change sides.’

‘Oh, Vanion,’ Sephrenia said in a tone of profound disappointment.

‘I was a bit pressed for time, little mother,’ he apologized. ‘Wargun was in a hurry to get started. He wanted to butcher the entire Elenian officer corps, but I talked him out of that. Anyway, we joined with King Soros of Pelosia at the border and marched down into Arcium. The Rendors turned tail and ran when they saw us coming. Wargun intends to chase them down, but I think that’s just for his personal entertainment. The other Preceptors and I managed to convince him that our presence in Chyrellos during the election of the new Archprelate was vital, so he let each of us take a hundred knights.’

‘That was generous of him,’ Sparhawk said sardonically. ‘Where are the knights from the other orders?’

‘They’re camped outside Demos. Dolmant doesn’t want us to move into Chyrellos until the situation there solidifies.’

‘If Lenda’s in charge at the palace, why are there church soldiers on the walls of the city?’

‘Annias found out what we’d done here, of course. There are members of the Hierocracy who are loyal to him, and they all have their own troops. He borrowed some of those men and sent them here. They freed Lycheas and imprisoned the Earl of Lenda. They control the city at the moment.’

‘We ought to do something about that.’

Vanion nodded. ‘We were on our way to Demos with the other orders when we chanced to find out what was happening here. The other orders went on to Demos to be in position to move on Chyrellos and we came here to Cimmura. We only arrived late last night. The knights were all eager to go into the city as soon as we got here, but we’ve been campaigning hard, and they’re all tired. I want them to be a little better rested before we correct things inside the walls.’

‘Are we likely to have any problems?’

‘I doubt it. Those church soldiers aren’t Annias’s men. They’re on loan from the other Patriarchs, and their loyalties are a little vague. I think a show of force is probably about all it’s going to take to make them capitulate.’

‘Are the remaining six knights who were involved in the spell in the throne-room among your hundred?’ Sephrenia asked him.

‘Yes,’ Vanion replied a little wanly. ‘We’re all here.’ He looked at the Pandion sword she was carrying. ‘Do you want to give me that?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘You’re carrying enough already. It isn’t going to be much longer anyway.’

‘You’re going to reverse the spell?’ Tynian asked, ‘– before you use Bhelliom to cure the queen, I mean?’

‘We have to,’ she told him. ‘Bhelliom has to touch her skin in order to cure her.’

Kalten went to the window. ‘It’s late afternoon now,’ he said. ‘If we’re going to do this today, we’d better get started.’

‘Let’s wait until morning,’ Vanion decided. ‘If the soldiers try to resist, it might take a while to subdue them, and I don’t want any of those people slipping away in the dark to warn Annias until we’ve had time to get reinforcements here.’

‘How many soldiers are at the palace?’ Sparhawk asked.

‘My spies report a couple of hundred,’ Vanion replied, ‘hardly enough to cause us any problems.’

‘We’re going to have to come up with a way to seal the city for a few days if we don’t want to see a relief column wearing red tunics coming up the river,’ Ulath said.

‘I can take care of that,’ Talen told him. ‘I’ll slip into town just before dark and go and talk to Platime. He’ll seal the gates for us.’

‘Can he be trusted?’ Vanion asked.

‘Platime? Of course not, but I think he’ll do that much for us. He hates Annias.’

‘That’s it then,’ Kalten said gaily. ‘We can move out at dawn and have everything tidied up by lunchtime.’

‘Don’t bother to set a place at the table for the bastard Lycheas,’ Ulath said bleakly, testing the edge of his axe with his thumb. ‘I don’t think he’s going to have much of an appetite.’

Chapter 3

Kurik woke Sparhawk early the following morning and helped him into his formal black armour. Then, carrying his sword-belt and plumed helmet, Sparhawk went to Vanion’s study to await the dawn and the arrival of the others. This was the day. He had striven towards this day for a half a year and more. Today he would look full into the eyes of his queen, salute her and swear his oath of fealty. A terrible impatience welled up in him. He wanted to get on with it, and he swore at the sluggard sun for its leisurely rising. ‘And then, Annias,’ he almost purred, ‘you and Martel are going to become no more than footnotes to history.’