‘If he can somehow get those nine, he’ll have seventy four votes, My Lord. If we can find six of the ones in hiding, the total number voting will be one hundred and twenty-five. Sixty per cent of that is seventy-five. He loses at that point.’
‘Very good, Talen,’ Vanion said. “That’s it then, gentlemen.
All we have to do is go to Chyrellos, take the city apart and find six Patriarchs who are willing to vote against Annias. We nominate somebody – anybody – to stand for election and keep taking votes until Wargun arrives.’
‘It’s still not the same as winning, Vanion,’ Komier grumbled.
‘It’s the next best thing to it,’ Vanion replied.
Sparhawk’s sleep was restless that night. The darkness seemed filled with vague cries and moans and a sense of unnamed terror. Finally he rose from his bed, threw on a monk’s robe and went looking for Sephrenia.
As he had about half-expected, he found her sitting in the doorway of her tent with her teacup in her hands. “Don’t you ever sleep?’ he asked, half in irritation.
“Your dreams are keeping me awake, dear one.’
“You know what I’m dreaming?’ He was astounded.
‘Not the details, but I know that something’s upsetting you.’
“I saw the shadow again when I showed Bhelliom to Vanion and the other Preceptors. ‘
‘Is that what’s disturbing you?’
‘In part. Someone took a shot at me with a crossbow when Ulath, Kalten and I were coming here from the cloister where Arissa’s confined.’
‘But that was before you took Bhelliom out of the pouch.
Maybe the incidents aren’t linked after all.’
“Maybe the shadow saves them up – or maybe it can see them coming in the future. It might be that the shadow doesn’t need to have me touch Bhelliom in order to send somebody to kill me. ‘
‘Does Elene logic usually involve so many maybe’s?’
“No, it doesn’t, and that bothers me a little bit. It doesn’t bother me enough to make me discard the hypothesis, though. Azash has been sending things to kill me for quite some time now, little mother, and they’ve all had some sort of supernatural quality about them. This shadow that I keep catching a glimpse of obviously isn’t natural, or you’d have been able to see it too.
That’s true, I suppose.
Then I’d be sort of foolish to drop my guard just because I can’prove that Azash sent the shadow, wouldn’t I?’
‘Probably, yes.’
‘Even though I can’t actually prove it, I know that there’s some kind of connection between Bhelliom and that flicker in the corner of my eye. I don’t know what the connection is just yet, and maybe that’s why some random incidents seem to be clouding the issue. To be on the safe side, though, I’m going to assume the worst – that the shadow belongs to Azash and it’s following Bhelliom itself and that it’s sending humans to try to kill me.’
“That makes sense.’
‘I’m glad you approve.’
‘You’d already made up your mind about this, Sparhawk,’
she said to him, ‘so why did you come looking for me?’
“I needed to have you listen while I talked my way through it.’
“I see.’
‘Besides, I like your company.’
She smiled fondly at him. ‘You’re such a good boy, Sparhawk. Now, why don’t we talk about why you’re keeping this last attempt on your life from Vanion?’
He sighed. ‘You don’t approve of that, I see.’
“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t.’
“I don’t want him putting me in the middle of the column with armoured knights holding their shields over me. I have to be able to see what’s coming at me, Sephrenia.
I’ll start trying to claw my way out of my skin if I can’t.
‘Oh, dear,’ she sighed.
Faran was in a foul humour. A day and a half of nearly continual hard riding had made his disposition definitely take a turn for the worse. Some fifteen leagues from Chyrellos, the Preceptors halted the column, ordered the knights to dismount and walk their horses for a time. Faran tried to bite Sparhawk three times as the big knight was climbing out of his saddle. The bites were intended more as an indication of disapproval than arising from any serious desire to injure or maim. Faran had discovered early in life that biting his master when he was wearing full armour only led to aching teeth. When the big roan half-whirled and kicked Sparhawk solidly on the hip, however, Sparhawk felt that it was time to take steps. With Kalten’s help, he rose to his feet, pushed back his visor and pulled himself hand over hand up the reins to stare directly into the ugly warhorse’s face. ‘Stop it!’ he snapped.
faran glared back at him with hate-filled eyes.
Sparhawk moved his hand very quickly then and grasped the roan’s left ear in his gauntleted fist. Grimly he began to twist.
Faran ground his teeth together, and tears actually appeared in his eyes. ‘Do we understand each other?’
Sparhawk grated.
Faran kicked him in the knee with one forehoof.
‘It’s up to you, Faran,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘You’re going to look ridiculous without that ear, though.’ He twisted harder until his horse grudgingly squealed in pain.
Always nice talking with you, Faran,’ Sparhawk said, releasing the ear. Then he stroked the sweat-soaked neck.
‘You big old fool,’ he said gently. ‘Are you all right?’
Faran flicked his ears – his right one, anyway – with an ostentatious display of indifference.
‘It’s really necessary, Faran,’ Sparhawk explained. ‘I’m not riding you this hard for fun. It won’t be much farther.
can I trust you now?’
Faran sighed and pawed at the ground with one hoof.
‘Good,’ Sparhawk said. “Let’s walk for a while.’
“that is truly uncanny,’ Preceptor Abriel said to Vanion.
‘I’ve never seen horse and man so totally linked before.’
‘It’s a part of Sparhawk’s advantage, my friend,’ Vanion said. ‘He’s bad enough by himself, but when you put him on that horse, he turns into a natural disaster.’
They walked on for a mile or so, then remounted and rode on through the afternoon sunlight towards the Holy City.
It was nearly midnight when they crossed the wide bridge over the River Amik and approached one of the west gates of Chyrellos. The gate, of course, was guarded by church soldiers. “I cannot grant you entry until sunrise, My Lords,’ the captain in charge of the guard detachment said firmly. ‘By order of the Hierocracy, no one under arms may enter Chyrellos during the hours of darkness.
Preceptor Komier reached for his axe.
‘A moment, my friend,’ Preceptor Abriel cautioned mildly. “I believe there’s a way to resolve this difficulty without unpleasantness. Captain,’ he addressed the red-tunicked soldier.
‘Yes, My Lord?’ The captain’s voice was insultingly smug. “This order you mentioned, does it apply to members of the Hierocracy itself?’
“My Lord?’ The captain seemed confused.
‘It’s a simple question, Captain. A yes or a no will surfice. Does the order apply to the Patriarchs of the Church?’
‘No one may hinder a Church Patriarch, My Lord,’ the captain floundered a bit.
“Your Grace,’ Abriel corrected.
The captain blinked stupidly.
‘The correct form of address when speaking to a Patriarch is “Your Grace”, Captain. By Church law, my three companions and I are, in fact, Patriarchs of the Church.
Form up your men, Captain. We will inspect them.
The captain hesitated.
‘I speak for the Church, Lieutenant,’ Abriel said. ‘Will you defy her?’
‘Uh – I’m a captain, Your Grace,’ the man mumbled.
“You were a captain, Lieutenant, but not any more.
Now, would you like to be a sergeant again? If not, you’ll do as I say immediately. ‘
‘At once, Your Grace,’ the shaken man replied. “You there!’ he shouted. ‘All of you! Fall in and prepare for inspection! ‘
The appearance of the detachment at the gate was, in Preceptor – ah, shall we say instead Patriarch – Darellon’s words, disgraceful. Reprimands were freely distributed in blistering terms, and then the column entered the Holy city without any further hindrance. There was no laughter – nor even any smiles – until the armoured men were well out of earshot of the gates. The discipline of the Knights of the Church is the wonder of the known world.
Despite the lateness of the hour, the streets of Chyrellos were heavily patrolled by church soldiers. Sparhawk knew these kinds of men, and he knew that their loyalty was for sale. They served only’ for the pay in most cases.
Because of their numbers here in the Holy City, they had become accustomed to behaving with a certain arrogant rudeness. The appearance of four hundred armoured church Knights in the streets at the ominous hour of , midnight engendered what Sparhawk felt to be a becoming humility, however – at least among the common troops. It took the officers a bit longer to grasp the truth. It always does, somehow. One obnoxious young fellow tried to block their path, demanding to examine their documents.