tree out there.’ She didn’t even make a pretence of nudging her pony’s
flanks, and despite Faran’s best efforts, the pony beat him to the tree by
a good twenty yards. The big roan warhorse glowered suspiciously at the
short-legged pony when Sparhawk reined him in. ‘You cheated,’ Sparhawk
accused his daughter. ‘Only a little.’ She slid down from her pony and sat
cross-legged under the tree. She lifted her small face and sang in a
trilling, flute-like voice. Her song broke off, and for several moments she
sat blank-faced and absolutely immobile. She did not even appear to be
breathing, and Sparhawk had the chilling feeling that he was absolutely
alone, although she clearly sat not two yards away from him. ‘What is it,
Sparhawk?’ Danae’s lips moved, but it was Sephrenia’s voice that asked the
question, and when Danae opened her eyes, they had changed. Danae’s eyes
were very dark, Sephrenia’s were deep blue, almost lavender. ‘I’Ve miss
you, little mother,’ he told her kneeling and kissing the palms of his
daughter’s hands. ‘You called me from half-way round the world to tell me
that? I’m touched, but . . .’
‘it’s something a little more, Sephrenia. We’ve been seeing that shadow
again – the cloud too.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘I sort of thought so myself, but we keep seeing them all the same. It’s
different, though. It feels different for one thing, and this time it’s not
just Ehlana and I who see it. Stragen and Ulath saw it too.’
‘you’d better tell me exactly what’s been happening, Sparhawk.’ He went
into greater detail about the shadow and then briefly described the
incident in the mountains near Cardos. ‘Whatever this thing is,’ he
concluded, ‘it seems very intent on keeping us from finding out what’s
going on in Lamorkand.’
‘is there some kind of trouble there?’
‘Count Gerrich is raising a rebellion.’ He seems to think that the crown
might fit him. He’s even going so far as to claim that Drychtnath’s
returned. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?’ Her eyes grew distant. ‘is this
shadow you’ve been seeing exactly the same as the one you and Ehlana saw
before?’ she asked. ‘It feels different somehow.’
‘Do you get that same sense that it has more than one consciousness in
it?’
‘That hasn’t changed. It’s a small group, but it’s a group all the same,
and the cloud that tore the Earl of Bolton to pieces was definitely the
same. Did the Troll-Gods manage to escape from Bhelliom somehow?’
‘Let me think my way through it for a moment, Sparhawk,’ she replied. She
considered it for a time. In a curious way she was impressing her own
appearance on Danae’s face. ‘I think we may have a problem, dear one,’ she
said finally. ‘I noticed that myself, little mother.’
‘Stop trying to be clever, Sparhawk. Do you remember the Dawn-men who came
out of that cloud up in Pelosia?’ Sparhawk shuddered. ‘i’ve been making a
special point of trying to forget that.’
‘Don’t discount the possibility that the wild stories about Drychtnath may
have some basis in fact. The Troll-Gods can reach back in time and bring
creatures and people forward to where we are now. Drychtnath may very well
indeed have returned.’ Sparhawk groaned. ‘Then the Troll-Gods have managed
to escape, haven’t they?’
‘I didn’t say that, Sparhawk. just because the TrollGods did this once
doesn’t mean that they’re the only ones who know how. For all I know,
Aphrael could do it herself.’ She paused. ‘You could have asked her these
questions, you know.’
‘Possibly, but I don’t think I could have asked her this one, because I
don’t think she’d know the answer. She doesn’t seem to be able to grasp the
concept of limitations for some reason.’
‘You’ve noticed,’ she said dryly. ‘Be nice. She’s my daughter, after all.’
‘She was my sister first, so I have a certain amount of seniority in the
matter. What is it that she wouldn’t be able to answer?’
‘Could a Styric magician – or any other magician – be behind all this?
Could we be dealing with a human?’
‘No, Sparhawk, I don’t think so. In forty thousand years there have only
been two Styric magicians who were able to reach back into time, and they
could only do it imperfectly. For all practical purposes what we’re talking
about is beyond human capability.’
‘that’s what I wanted to find out for sure. We’re dealing with Gods then?’
‘I’m afraid so, Sparhawk, almost certainly.
CHAPTER 4
Preceptor Sparhawk’:
It is our hope that this finds you and your family in good health. A matter
of some delicacy has arisen, and we find that your presence is required
here in Chyrellos. You are therefore commanded by the Church to proceed
forthwith to the Basilica and to present yourself before our throne to
receive our further instruction. We know that as a true son of the Church
you will not delay. We shall expect your attendance upon us within the
week. Dolmant, Archprelate.
Sparhawk lowered the letter and looked around at the others. ‘He gets right
to the point, doesn’t he?’ Kalten observed. ‘Of course Dolmant never was
one to beat around the bush.’ Queen Ehlana gave a howl of absolute fury and
began beating her fists on the council table and stamping her feet on the
floor. ‘You’ll hurt your hands,’ Sparhawk cautioned. ‘How dare he?’ she
exploded. ‘How dare he?’
‘A bit abrupt,’ perhaps,’ Stragen noted cautiously.
‘You will ignore this churlish command, Sparhawk!’ Ehlana ordered.
‘I can’t do that.’
‘You are my husband and my subject! If Dolmant wants to see you, he’ll ask
my permission. this is outrageous!’
‘The Archprelate does in fact have the authority tO summon the preceptor
of one of the Militant Orders to Chyrellos, your Majesty,’ the Earl of
Lenda diffidently told the fuming queen. ‘You’re wearing too many hats,
Sparhawk,’ Tynian told his friend. ‘You should resign from a few of these
exalted positions you hold.’
‘it’s that devastating Personality of his,’ Kalten said to Ulath, ‘and all
those unspeakable gifts. People just wither and die in his absence.’
‘I forbid it!’ Ehlana said flatly. ‘I have to obey him, Ehlana,’ Sparhawk
explained. ‘i’m a Church Knight.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Very well then,’ she
decided, ‘since Dolmant’s feeling so authoritarian, we’ll all obey his
stupid command. We’ll go to Chyrellos and set up shop in the Basilica. I’ll
let him know that I expect him to provide me with adequate facilities and
an administrative staff – at his expense. He and I are going to have this
out once and for all.’
‘This promises to be one of the high points in the history of the Church,’
Stragen observed. ‘I’ll make that pompous ass wish he’d never been born,’
Ehlana declared ominously. Nothing Sparhawk might say could in any way
change his wife’s mind. If the truth were to be known, however, he did not
really try all that hard, because he could see her point. Dolmant was being
high-handed. He tended at times to run roughshod over the kings of Eosia
and so the clash of wills between the Archprelate and the Queen of Elenia
was probably inevitable. ‘The unfortunate thing was that they were
genuinely fond of each other, and neither of them was opposing the other
out of any petty vanity or pride. Dolmant was asserting the authority of
the Church, and Ehlana that of the Elenian throne. They had become
institutions instead of people. It was Sparhawk’s misfortune to be caught
in the middle. He was absolutely certain that the arrogant tone of the
Archprelate’s letter had not come from his friend but from some
half-drowsing scribe absent-mindedly scribbling formula phrases. What
Dolmant had most probably said was something on the order of, ‘Send a
letter to Sparhawk and tell him I’d like to see him.’ That was not,
however, what had arrived in Cimmura. What had arrived had set Ehlana’s
teeth on edge, and she went out of her way to make the impending visit to
Chyrellos as inconvenient for the Archprelate as she possibly could. Her
first step was to depopulate the palace. Everybody had to join her
entourage. The queen needed ladies-inwaiting. The ladies-in-waiting needed
maids. They all needed grooms and footmen. Lenda and Platime, who were to
remain in Cimmura to maintain the government, were left almost unassisted.
‘Looks almost like an army mobilising, doesn’t it?’ Kalten said gaily as
they came down the palace stairs on the morning of their departure. ‘Let’s
hope the Archprelate doesn’t misunderstand,’ Ulath murmured. ‘He wouldn’t
really believe your wife was planning to lay siege to the Basilica, would
he, Sparhawk?’ Once they left Cimmura, the gaily-dressed Elenian Court
stretched out for miles under a blue spring sky. Had it not been for the
steely glint in the queen’s eyes, this might have been no more than one of
those ‘outings’ so loved by idle courtiers. Ehlana had ‘suggested’ that