‘Archprelates have been deposed before, Obler. Annias won’t have any use for a mitre if he doesn’t have a head. Sparhawk has already volunteered to use his knife.’
‘You’ll start a general civil war, Wargun. No one has directly confronted the Church for centuries.’
‘Then maybe it’s about time. Anything else happening?’
‘The Earl of Lenda and Preceptor Vanion of the Pandion order arrived no more than an hour ago,’ Obler said. ‘They wanted to get cleaned up. I sent for them just as soon as I’d heard that you’d arrived. They’ll join us in a bit.’
‘Good. We’ll be able to settle a lot of things here then. What’s the date?’
King Obler told him.
‘Your calendar must be wrong, Obler,’ Wargun said after counting days off on his fingers.
‘What did you do with Soros?’ Obler asked.
‘I came close to killing him,’ Wargun growled. ‘I’ve never seen anybody pray that much when there was work to be done. I sent him down into Lamorkand to pick up the barons down there. He’s riding at the head of the army, but Bergsten’s actually the one in charge. Bergsten would make a good Archprelate, if we could ever get him out of that armour.’ He laughed. ‘Can you imagine the reaction of the Hierocracy to an Archprelate in a mail-shirt and a horned helmet and with a battle-axe in his hands?’
‘It might enliven the Church a bit, Wargun,’ Obler conceded with a faint smile.
‘God knows she needs it,’ Wargun said. ‘She’s been acting like a frigid old maid since Cluvonus fell ill.’
‘Would Your Majesties excuse me?’ Sparhawk asked deferentially. ‘I’d like to look in on Vanion. We haven’t seen each other for a while, and there are things I need to report to him.’
‘More of this everlasting Church business?’ Wargun asked.
‘You know how it is, Your Majesty.’
‘No, thank God, I don’t. Go ahead, Knight of the Church. Talk with your father superior, but don’t keep him too long. We’ve got important business here.’
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’ Sparhawk bowed to the two kings and quietly left the room.
Vanion was trying to struggle into his armour when Sparhawk entered the room. He stared at his subordinate in some astonishment. ‘What are you doing here, Sparhawk?’ he demanded. ‘I thought you were in Lamorkand.’
‘Just passing through, Vanion,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘Some things have changed. I’ll give you the gist of it now, and we can fill you in on more detail after King Wargun goes to bed.’ He looked critically at his Preceptor. ‘You’re looking tired, my friend.’
‘Old age,’ Vanion said ruefully, ‘and all of those swords I made Sephrenia give me are getting heavier every day. You know that Olven died?’
‘Yes. His ghost brought his sword to Sephrenia.’
‘I was afraid of that. I’ll take it away from her.’
Sparhawk tapped Vanion’s breast-plate with one knuckle. ‘You don’t have to wear this, you know. Obler’s fairly informal, and Wargun doesn’t even know what the word formal means.’
‘Appearances, my friend,’ Vanion said, ‘and the honour of the Church. Sometimes it’s boring, I’ll admit, but -’ He shrugged. ‘Help me into this contraption, Sparhawk. You can talk while you’re tightening straps and buckling buckles.’
‘Yes, My Lord Vanion.’ Sparhawk began to assist his friend into the suit of armour, briefly summarizing the events which had taken place in Lamorkand and Pelosia.
‘Why didn’t you chase down the Troll?’ Vanion asked him.
‘Some things came up,’ Sparhawk said, fastening Vanion’s black cape to his shoulder-plates, ‘- Wargun for one thing. I even offered to fight him, but Patriarch Bergsten interfered.’
‘You challenged a king?’ Vanion looked stunned.
‘It seemed appropriate at the time, Vanion.’
‘Oh, my friend,’ Vanion sighed.
‘We’d better get going,’ Sparhawk said. ‘There’s a lot more to tell you but Wargun’s getting impatient.’ Sparhawk squinted at Vanion’s armour. ‘Brace yourself,’ he said. ‘You’re lopsided.’ Then he banged both of his fists down on Vanion’s shoulder plates. ‘There,’ he said. ‘That’s better.’
‘Thanks,’ Vanion said drily, his knees buckling slightly.
‘The honour of the order, My Lord. I don’t want you to look as if you were dressed in cheap tin plates.’
Vanion decided not to answer that.
The Earl of Lenda was in the room when Sparhawk and Vanion entered.
‘There you are, Vanion,’ King Wargun said. ‘Now we can get started. What’s happening down in Arcium?’
‘The situation hasn’t changed all that much, Your Majesty. The Rendors are still besieging Larium, but the Genidians, Cyrinics and Alciones are inside the walls along with most of the Arcian army.’
‘Is the city in any real danger?’
‘Hardly. It’s built like a mountain. You know the Arcian fondness for stone-work. It could probably hold out for twenty years.’ Vanion looked over at Sparhawk. ‘I saw an old friend of yours down there,’ he said. ‘Martel appears to be in command of the Rendorish army.’
‘I’d more or less guessed that. I thought I’d nailed his feet to the floor down in Rendor, but apparently he managed to talk his way around Arasham.’
‘He really didn’t have to,’ King Obler said. ‘Arasham died a month ago – under highly suspicious circumstances.’
‘It sounds as if Martel’s had his hand in the poison jar again,’ Kalten said.
‘Who’s the new spiritual leader in Rendor then?’ Sparhawk asked.
‘A man named Ulesim,’ King Obler replied. ‘I gather he was one of Arasham’s disciples.’
Sparhawk laughed. ‘Arasham didn’t even know he existed. I’ve met Ulesim. The man’s an idiot. He won’t last six months.’
‘Anyway,’ Vanion continued, ‘I have the Pandion order out in the countryside dealing with Rendorish foraging parties. Martel’s going to start getting hungry before long. That’s about all, Your Majesty,’ he concluded.
‘Nice and to the point. Thanks, Vanion. Lenda, what’s going on in Cimmura?’
‘Things are about the same, Your Majesty – except that Annias has gone to Chyrellos.’
‘And he’s probably perched on the foot of the Archprelate’s bed like a vulture,’ Wargun surmised.
‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised, Your Majesty,’ Lenda agreed. ‘He left Lycheas in charge. I have a number of people in the palace who work for me, and one of them managed to hear Annias giving Lycheas his final instructions. He ordered Lycheas to withhold the Elenian army from the campaign in Rendor. As soon as Cluvonus dies, the army – and the Church soldiers in Cimmura – are supposed to march on Chyrellos. Annias wants to flood the holy city with his own men to help intimidate the uncommitted members of the Hierocracy.’
‘The Elenian army’s mobilized then?’
‘Fully, Your Majesty. They have an encampment about ten leagues south of Cimmura.’
‘We’ll probably have to fight them, Your Majesty,’ Kalten said. ‘Annias dismissed most of the old generals and replaced them with men loyal to him.’
Wargun started to swear.
‘It may not be quite as serious as it sounds, Your Majesty,’ the Earl of Lenda said. ‘I’ve made an extended study of the law. In times of religious crisis, the militant orders are empowered to take command of all forces in Western Eosia. Wouldn’t you say that an invasion by the Eshandist Heresy qualifies as a religious crisis?’
‘By God, you’re right, Lenda. Is that Elenian law?’
‘No, Your Majesty. Church law.’
Wargun suddenly howled with laughter. ‘Oh, that’s too rare!’ he roared, pounding on the arm of his chair with one beefy fist. ‘Annias is trying to become the head of the church, and we use church law to spike his wheel. Lenda, you’re a genius.’
‘I have my moments, Your Majesty,’ Lenda replied modestly. ‘I’d imagine
that Preceptor Vanion here can persuade the General Staff to join your forces – particularly in view of the fact that Church law empowers him to resort to extreme measures should any officer refuse to accept his authority in such situations.’
‘I’d imagine that a few beheadings might prove instructional to the General Staff,’ Ulath said. ‘If we shorten four or five generals, the rest will probably fall in line.’
‘Quickly,’ Tynian added with a grin.
‘Keep your axe good and sharp then, Ulath,’ Wargun said.
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
‘About the only problem remaining is what we’re going to do about Lycheas,’ the Earl of Lenda said.
‘I’ve already decided that,’ Wargun said. ‘As soon as we get to Cimmura, I’m going to hang him.’
‘Splendid notion,’ Lenda said smoothly, ‘but I think we might want to consider that just a bit. You do know that Annias is the Prince Regent’s father, don’t you?’
‘So Sparhawk tells me, but I don’t really care who his father is, I’m going to hang him anyway.’
‘I’m not really sure just how fond Annias is of his son, but he did go to some fairly extreme measures to put him on the Elenian throne. It might just be that the militant orders can use him to some advantage when they get to Chyrellos. An offer to put him to the torture might just persuade Annias to move his troops out of Chyrellos so that the election can proceed without their interference.’
‘You’re taking all the fun out of this, Lenda,’ Wargun complained. He scowled. ‘You’re probably right, though. All right, when we get to Cimmura, we’ll throw him in the dungeon – along with all his toadies. Are you up to taking charge at the Palace?’
‘If Your Majesty wishes,’ Lenda sighed, ‘but wouldn’t Sparhawk or Vanion be a better choice?’
‘Maybe, but I’m going to need them when I get to Arcium. What do you think, Obler?’
‘I have absolute confidence in the Earl of Lenda,’ King Obler replied.
‘I’ll do my best, Your Majesties,’ Lenda said, ‘but keep in mind the fact that I’m getting very old.’
‘You’re not as old as I am, my friend,’ King Obler reminded him, ‘and nobody’s offered to let me evade my responsibilities.’
‘All right, that’s settled then,’ Wargun said. ‘Now, let’s get down to cases. We’ll march south to Cimmura, imprison Lycheas and bully the Elenian General Staff into joining with us with their army. We may as well pick up the Church soldiers as well. Then we join Soros and Bergsten on the Arcian border. We march south to Larium, encircle the Rendors and exterminate the lot of them.’
‘Isn’t that a bit extreme, Your Majesty?’ Lenda objected.
‘No, as a matter of fact, it’s not. I want it to be at least ten generations before the Eshandist Heresy raises its head again.’ He grinned crookedly at Sparhawk. ‘If you serve well and faithfully, my friend, I’ll even let you kill Martel.’
‘I’d appreciate that, Your Majesty,’ Sparhawk replied politely.
‘Oh, dear,’ Sephrenia sighed.
‘It needs to be done, little lady,’ Wargun told her. ‘Obler, is your army ready to move?’
‘They’re only awaiting orders, Wargun.’
‘Good. If you don’t have anything else planned, why don’t we start for Elenia tomorrow?’
‘We might as well.’ Old King Obler shrugged.
Wargun stood up and stretched, yawning broadly. ‘Let’s all get some sleep then,’ he said. ‘We’ll be starting early tomorrow.’
Later, Sparhawk and his friends gathered in Vanion’s room to tell the Preceptor in much greater detail what had happened in Lamorkand and Pelosia.
When they had finished, he looked curiously at Flute. ‘Just exactly what’s your part in all this?’ he asked her.
‘I was sent to help,’ she replied with a shrug.
‘By Styricum?’
‘In a manner of speaking.’
‘And what was this task you have to perform here in Acie?’
‘I’ve already done it, Vanion. Sephrenia and I had to talk with a certain Styric here. We saw him in the street on our way to the palace and took care of it.’
‘What did you have to say to him that was more important than getting the Bhelliom?’
‘We had to prepare Styricum for what is about to happen.’
‘The invasion by the Rendors, you mean?’
‘Oh, that’s nothing, Vanion. This is much, much more serious.’
Vanion looked at Sparhawk. ‘You’re going to Thalesia then?’
Sparhawk nodded. ‘Even if I have to walk on water to get there.’
‘All right, I’ll do what I can to help you get out of the city. There’s one thing that concerns me, though. If you all leave, Wargun’s going to notice that you’re gone. Sparhawk and one or two others might be able to get away without alerting Wargun, but that’s about all.’
Flute stepped into the middle of the room and looked them over. ‘Sparhawk,’ she said, pointing, ‘and Kurik. Sephrenia and me – and Talen.’
‘That’s absurd,’ Bevier exploded. ‘Sparhawk’s going to need knights with him if he’s going to come up against Ghwerig.’
‘Sparhawk and Kurik can take care of it,’ she said complacently.
‘Isn’t it dangerous to take Flute along?’ Vanion asked Sparhawk.
‘Maybe so, but she’s the only one who knows the way to Ghwerig’s cave.’
‘Why Talen?’ Kurik said to Flute.
‘There’s something he has to do in Emsat,’ she replied.
‘I’m sorry, my friends,’ Sparhawk told the other knights, ‘but we’re more or less committed to doing things her way.’
‘Are you going to leave now?’ Vanion said.
‘No, we have to wait for Talen.’
‘Good. Sephrenia, go and get Olven’s sword.’
‘But -’
‘Just do it, Sephrenia. Please don’t argue with me.’
‘Yes, dear one,’ she sighed.
After she had delivered Olven’s sword to him, Vanion was so weak he could barely stand.
‘You’re going to kill yourself doing this, you know.’
‘Everybody dies from something. Now then, gentlemen,’ he said to the knights, ‘I have a troop of Pandions with me. Those of you who are staying behind should mingle yourselves in among them when we ride out. Lenda and Obler are both quite old. I’ll suggest to Wargun that we put them in a carriage and that he ride along with them. That should keep him from being able to count noses. I’ll try to keep him occupied.’ He looked at Sparhawk. ‘A day or two is probably all I’ll be able to manage for you,’ he apologized.
‘That should be enough,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Wargun’s likely to think that I’m going back to Lake Venne. He’ll send any pursuit in that direction.’
‘The only problem now is getting you out of the palace,’ Vanion said.
‘I’ll take care of that,’ Flute told him.
‘How?’
‘Maa-gic,’ she said, comically drawing the word out and wiggling her fingers at him.
He laughed. ‘How did we ever get along without you?’
‘Badly, I’d imagine.’ She sniffed.
It was about an hour later when Talen slipped into the room.
‘Any problems?’ Kurik asked him.
‘No,’ Talen shrugged. ‘I made a few contacts and found us a place to hide.’
‘Contacts?’ Vanion asked him. ‘With whom?’
‘A few thieves, some beggars and a couple of murderers. They sent me to the man who controls the underside of Acie. He owes Platime a few favours, so when I mentioned Platime’s name, he became very helpful.’
‘You live in a strange world, Talen,’ Vanion said.
‘No stranger than the one you live in, My Lord,’ Talen said with an extravagant bow.
‘That may be entirely true, Sparhawk,’ Vanion said. ‘We may all be thieves and brigands when you get right down to it. All right,’ he said t
o Talen, ‘where is this hiding-place?’
‘I’d rather not say,’ Talen replied evasively. ‘You’re sort of an official person, and I gave my word.’
‘There’s honour in your profession?’
‘Oh yes, My Lord. It’s not based on any knightly code, though. It’s based on not getting your throat cut.’
‘You have a very wise son, Kurik,’ Kalten said.
‘You had to go ahead and say it, didn’t you, Kalten?’ Kurik asked acidly.
‘Are you ashamed of me, father?’ Talen asked in a small voice, his face downcast.
Kurik looked at him. ‘No, Talen,’ he said, ‘actually I’m not.’ He put his burly arm about the boy’s shoulders. ‘This is my son, Talen,’ he said defiantly, ‘and if anybody wants to make an issue of it, I’ll be more than happy to give him satisfaction, and we can throw out the nonsense about the nobility and the commons not being allowed to fight each other.’
‘Don’t be absurd, Kurik,’ Tynian said with a broad grin. ‘Congratulations to you both.’
The other knights gathered about the husky squire and his larcenous son, clapping them on the shoulders and adding their congratulations to Tynian’s.
Talen looked around at them, his eyes suddenly very wide and filled with tears at his sudden acknowledgement. Then he fled to Sephrenia, fell to his knees, buried his face in her lap and wept.
Flute smiled.
Chapter 23
It was that same peculiarly drowsy melody Flute had played on the docks at Vardenais and again outside the chapterhouse in Cimmura.
‘What’s she doing now?’ Talen whispered to Sparhawk as they all crouched behind the balustrade of the wide porch at the front of King Obler’s palace.
‘She’s putting Wargun’s sentries to sleep,’ Sparhawk replied. There was no point in extended explanations. ‘They’ll ignore us as we pass them.’ Sparhawk wore his mail-shirt and his traveller’s cloak.
‘Are you sure about that?’ Talen sounded dubious.
‘I’ve seen it work a few times before.’
Flute stood up and walked to the wide staircase leading down to the courtyard. Still holding her pipes in one hand, she motioned for them to follow with the other.
‘Let’s go,’ Sparhawk said, rising to his feet.
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