‘No, Your Grace,’ Delada replied firmly, ‘that is not in any way possible. The one man was most definitely the Primate Annias, and he addressed the other man as Martel.’

Makova began to perspire. He tried another tack. ‘Who was it that escorted you to that cellar, Colonel?’

‘Sir Sparhawk of the Pandion Order, Your Grace.’

‘Well now,’ Makova said triumphantly, smirking around at the other members of the Hierocracy, ‘there we have it, then. Sir Sparhawk has long held a personal enmity for Primate Annias. He has quite obviously swayed this witness.’

Delada came to his feet, his face a fiery red. ‘Are you calling me a liar?’ he demanded, his hand reaching for his sword-hilt.

Makova recoiled, his eyes suddenly very wide.

‘Sir Sparhawk told me absolutely nothing in advance, Patriarch Makova,’ Delada said from between clenched teeth. ‘He wouldn’t even tell me who either of the men in that cellar were. I identified Annias all on my own and Martel from Annias’s own mouth. And I’ll tell you something else as well. Sparhawk is the champion of the Queen of Elenia. If I held that position, the head of the Primate of Cimmura would be decorating a pole in front of the Basilica right now.’

‘How dare you?’ Makova gasped.

‘The man you’re so eager to put on the Archprelate’s throne poisoned Sparhawk’s queen and he’s running to Zemoch right now to beg Otha to protect him from Sparhawk’s anger. You’d better find somebody else to vote for, Your Grace, because even if the Hierocracy makes the mistake of electing Annias of Cimmura to the Archprelacy, he’ll never live to assume that throne, since if Sparhawk doesn’t kill him – I will!’ Delada’s eyes were ablaze and his sword was half-drawn.

Makova shrank back.

‘Ah –’ Dolmant said mildly, ‘would you like a moment to compose yourself, Colonel?’ he suggested.

‘I am composed, Your Grace,’ Delada retorted, ramming his sword back into its scabbard. ‘I’m not nearly as angry now as I was a few hours ago. I haven’t once questioned the honour of the Patriarch of Coombe.’

‘Spirited, isn’t he?’ Tynian whispered to Ulath.

‘Red-haired people are like that sometimes,’ Ulath replied sagely.

‘Did you want to ask the colonel any more questions, Makova?’ Emban inquired with an innocent expression.

Makova stalked back to his seat, refusing to answer.

‘Wise decision,’ Emban murmured just loud enough to be heard.

A nervous laugh ran through the Hierocracy.

It was not so much the information that Annias had been behind the attack on the city that so shocked and outraged the Hierocracy – they were all ranking churchmen, and they fully understood the lengths to which ambition could drive a man. Although Annias’s methods were extreme and totally reprehensible, the Hierocracy could understand his motives and perhaps even secretly admire a man willing to go to such lengths to achieve his goal. It was his alliance with Otha, however, that went completely beyond the pale. Many of the Patriarchs who had quite willingly sold their votes to Annias squirmed uncomfortably as they began to realize the full extent of the depravity of the man to whom they had allied themselves.

Lastly, Dolmant called Krager, and the Patriarch of Demos made no attempt whatsoever to conceal Krager’s character and fundamental unreliability.

Krager had been tidied up a bit, he was wearing chains on his wrists and ankles as an indication of his status, and he turned out to be a brilliant witness. He made no effort to offer excuses for himself, but was bluntly, even brutally, honest about his many flaws. He even went so far as to provide the details of the arrangement that was protecting his head. The implication that he had very solid reasons for absolute truthfulness was not lost on the Hierocracy. Faces blanched. Many Patriarchs prayed audibly. There were cries of outrage and horror as Krager in a matter-of-fact tone described in detail the monstrous conspiracy which had come so very close to success. He did not, however, make any reference to Bhelliom. That omission had been decided upon fairly early on in the planning. ‘It might have all worked, too,’ Krager concluded in a tone of regret. ‘If only we’d had one more day before the armies of the western kingdoms arrived in Chyrellos, the Primate of Cimmura would be sitting on that very throne. His first act would have been to order the militant orders disbanded, and his second to order the Elene monarchs to return to their own kingdoms and demobilize their armies. Then Otha would have marched in without any resistance, and within a generation, we’d all be bowing to Azash. It was such a very good plan,’ Krager sighed, ‘and it would have made me one of the richest men in the world.’ He sighed again. ‘Ah, well,’ he concluded.

Patriarch Emban had been sprawled in his seat, carefully assessing the mood of the Hierocracy. He hauled himself to his feet. ‘Do we have any questions for this witness?’ he asked, looking pointedly at Makova.

Makova would not answer him. Makova would not even look at him.

‘Perhaps, my brothers,’ Emban continued, ‘this might be the proper time to adjourn for lunch.’ He smiled rather broadly and clapped his hands to his paunch. ‘That suggestion coming from me didn’t really surprise anyone very much, did it?’ he asked then.

They laughed, and that seemed to relax the tension. ‘This morning has given us many things to consider, my brothers,’ the little fat man continued seriously, ‘and unfortunately we’ll have little time to consider them. With Otha camped in eastern Lamorkand, we don’t have much time for extended contemplation.’

Dolmant adjourned the Hierocracy then and declared that they would reconvene within the hour.

At Ehlana’s request, Sparhawk and Mirtai joined her in a small chamber in the Basilica for a light lunch. The young queen seemed a bit distracted and scarcely touched her food but sat instead scribbling rapidly on a scrap of paper.

‘Ehlana,’ Mirtai said sharply. ‘Eat. You’ll waste away if you don’t eat.’

‘Please, Mirtai,’ the queen said, ‘I’m trying to compose a speech. I have to address the Hierocracy this afternoon.’

‘You don’t have to say all that much, Ehlana,’ Sparhawk told her. ‘Just tell them how honoured you are to be allowed to witness their deliberations, say a few unflattering things about Annias and invoke the blessings of God on the proceedings.’