‘Strange,’ Sparhawk murmured.
‘People do die of natural causes, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia told him.
‘Not in my profession – at least not very often.’
“MaybE he was old.’
Dolmant returned, his face very pale. ‘He was poisoned!’
he exclaimed.
.What?’ Sparhawk demanded.
‘That cook of mine was poisoned, and the physician says that the poison was in the poridge the man was preparing for breakfast. That porridge could have killed everyone in the house.’
“Perhaps you’d like to reconsider your position on the notion of arresting Annias, Your Grace,’ Sparhawk said grimly.
.Surely you don’t believe -‘ Dolmant broke off, his eyes suddenly ‘very wide.
‘He’s already had a hand in the poisoning of Aldreas and Ehlana, Your Grace,’ Sparhawk said. “I doubt that he’d choke very much over a few Patriarchs and a score or so church Knights.’
‘The man’s a monster!’ then Dolmant started to swear, using oaths more common to a barracks than a theological seminary.
“You’d better tell Emban to circulate word of this to the Patriarchs loyal to us, Dolmant,’ Sephrenia advised.
‘It appears that Annias may have come up with a cheaper way to win an election.’
‘i’d better start rousing the others,’ Sparhawk said, rising to his feet. ‘I want to tell them about this, and it takes a while to get into full armour.’
It was still dark when they set out for the Basilica accompanied by fifteen armoured knights from each of the four orders. Sixty Church Knights, it had been decided, was a force with which few would care to interfere. ”
The sky to the east was beginning to show that first pale stain of daylight when they reached the great domed church which was at the very centre of the Holy City – its thought and spirit as well as its geography.
The entrance into the city of the column of pandions, Cyrinics, Genidians and Alciones the previous night had not gone unnoticed, and the torchlit bronze portal leading into the vast court before the basilika was guarded by a hundred and fifty red-tunicked church soldiers under the command of that same captain who, at Makova’s orders, had attempted to prevent the departure of Sparhawk and his companions from the Pandion chapterhouse on their journey to Borrata.
“Halt.$ he commanded in an imperious, even insulting tone.
.Would you attempt to deny entrance to Patriarchs of the Church, Captain?’ Preceptor Abriel asked in a level tone, ‘knowing that you thereby imperil your soul?’
‘His neck too,’ Ulath muttered to Tynian.
‘Patriarch Dolmant and Patriarch Emban may freely enter, My Lord,’ the captain said. ‘No true son of the Church could refuse them entry.
‘But what of these other Patriarchs, Captain?’ Dolmant asked him.
“I see no other Patriarchs, Your Grace. ‘ The captain’s tone hovered on insult.
‘You’re not looking, Captain,’ Emban told him. ‘By Church Law, the Preceptors of the militant orders are also Patriarchs. Stand aside and let us pass.
“I have heard of no such Church Law.’
‘Are you calling me a liar, Captain?’ Emban’s normally good-humoured face had gone iron-hard.
“Why – certainly not, Your Grace. May I consult with my superiors on this matter?’
‘You may not. Stand aside.’
The captain started to sweat. “I thank Your Grace for correcting my error,’ he floundered. “I was not aware that the Preceptors also enjoyed ecclesiastical rank. All Patriarchs may freely enter. The rest, I’m afraid, must wait outside. ‘
‘He’d better be afraid if he’s going to try to enforce that,’
Ulath grated.
.Captain,’ Preceptor Komier said, ‘all Patriarchs are entitled to a certain administrative staff, aren’t they?’
“certainly, My Lord – Uh, Your Grace.’
‘These knights are our staff. Secretaries and the like, you understand. If you deny them entrance, I’ll expect to see a long file of the black-robed underlings of the other Patriarchs filing out of the Basilica in about five minutes.
“I can’t do that, Your Grace,’ the captain said stubbornly.
“Ulath,’ Komier barked.
.if I may, Your Grace,’ Bevier interposed. Bevier, Sparhawk noted, was holding his lochaber axe loosely in his right hand. “The captain and I have met before. Perhaps I can reason with him.’ The young Cyrinic Knight moved his horse forward. “Though our relations have never been cordial, Captain,’ he said, “I beseech you not to so risk your soul by defying our holy mother, the Church. With this in mind, will you freely stand aside as the Church has commanded you to do?’
“I will not, Sir Knight.’
Bevier sighed regretfully. Then, with an almost negligent swing of his dreadful axe, he sent the captain’s head flying.
Bevier, Sparhawk had noted, did that on occasion. Just as soon as he was certain that he was on firm theological ground, the young Arcian habitually took sometimes shockingly direct action. Even now, his face was serene and untroubled as he watched the captain’s headless body standing stock still for several seconds, and then he sighed as the body collapsed.
The church soldiers gasped and cried out in horror and alarm as they recoiled and reached for their weapons.
“That tears it,’ Tynian said. ‘Here we go.’ He reached for His sword.
“Dear friends,’ Bevier addressed the soldiers in a gentle but commanding voice, ‘you have just witnessed a ~truly regrettable incident. A soldier of the Church has wilfully defied our mother’s lawful command. Let us join together now to offer up a fervent prayer that All-Merciful God shall see fit to forgive his dreadful sin. Kneel, dear friends, and pray.’ Bevier shook the blood off his axe, spattering a number of soldiers in the process.
First a few, then more, and finally all of the soldiers sank to their knees.
.Oh, God!’ Bevier led them in prayer, ‘we beseech Thee to receive the soul of our dear brother, but recently departed, and grant him absolution for his grievous sin. ‘
He looked around. ‘Continue to pray, dear friends,’ he instructed the kneeling soldiers. ‘Pray not only for your former captain, but for yourselves as well, lest sin, ever devious and cunning, creep into your hearts even as it crept into his. Defend your purity and humility with vigour, dear friends, lest you share your captain’s fate.’
Then the Cyrinic Knight all in burnished steel and pristine white surcoat and cape, moved his horse forward at a walk, threading his way through the ranks of the kneeling soldiers, bestowing blessings with one hand and holding his lochaber axe in the other.
“I told you he was a good boy,’ Ulath said to Tynian as the party followed the beatifically smiling Bevier.
“I never doubted it for a moment, my friend,’ Tynian replied.
‘Lord Abriel,’ Patriarch Dolmant said as he guided his horse past the kneeling soldiers, many of whom were actually weeping, ‘have you questioned Sir Bevier of late on the actual substance of his beliefs? I may be wrong, but I seem to detect certain deviations from the true teachings of our holy mother. ‘
“I shall catechize him most penetratingly on the matter, Your Grace – just as soon as I have the opportunity.’
“There’s no great rush, My Lord,’ Dolmant said benignly. “I don’t feel that his soul is in any immediate danger. That is a truly ugly weapon he carries, however.’
‘Yes, Your Grace,’ Abriel agreed. “It truly is.’
Word of the sudden demise of the offensive captain at the gate had spread rather quickly. There was no interference from the church soldiers at the massive doors of the Basilica – indeed, there seemed to be no church soldiers around at all. The heavily armed knights dismounted, formed up into a military column and followed their Preceptors and the two Patriarchs into the vast nave. There was a noisy clatter as the party knelt briefly before the altar. Then they rose and marched off down a candlelit corridor towards the administrative offices and the Archprelate’s audience chamber.
The men standing guard at the door to the chamber were not church soldiers, but rather were members of the Archprelate’s personal guard. Their loyalties were to the office itself, and they were totally incorruptible. They were also, however, sticklers for the letter of Church Law, in which they were probably more well versed than many of the Patriarchs sitting in the chamber. They immediately recognized the ecclesiastical eminence of the Preceptors of the four orders. Coming up with a reason why the rest of the entourage should be admitted took a bit longer, however. It was Patriarch Emban, fat, sly and with a nearly encyclopedicc knowledge of Church Law and custom, who pointed out the fact that any Churchman with proper credentials and at the invitation of a Patriarch must be freely admitted. Once the guards had agreed to that, Emban pointed out that the Church Knights were de faCtO
churchmen as members of technically cloistered orders.
The guards mulled that over, conceded Emban’s point and ~ceremoniously opened the huge doors. Sparhawk noticed a number of poorly-concealed smiles as he and his friends filed inside. The guards by definition were incorruptible and totally neutral. This did not, however, preclude their having private opinions.