‘Eck,’ he corrected.
‘Sorry – when he was talking about the little girl who guided him through Arcium to King Wargun?’
‘Because the little girl was Aphrael.’
‘A Goddess? She actually appears before ordinary people? Are you absolutely sure?’
He nodded. ‘Absolutely,’ he told her. ‘She made him more or less invisible, and she compressed a ten-day journey into three. She did the same things for us on a number of occasions.’
‘How remarkable.’ She stood, idly drumming her fingertips on his armour.
‘Please don’t do that, Ehlana,’ he said. ‘It makes me feel like a bell with legs.’
‘Sorry. Sparhawk, are we really sure we want Patriarch Ortzel on the Archprelate’s throne? Isn’t he awfully cold and stern?’
‘Ortzel’s rigid, right enough, and his Archprelacy’s going to cause the militant orders some difficulty. He’s violently opposed to our using magic, for one thing.’
‘What earthly good is a Church Knight if he can’t use magic?’
‘We do have other resources as well, Ehlana. Ortzel wouldn’t have been my first choice, I’ll admit, but he holds strictly to the teachings of the Church. No one like Annias will ever get into a position of any kind of authority if Ortzel’s in charge. He’s rigid, but he follows Church doctrine to the letter.’
‘Couldn’t we find somebody else – somebody we like a little more?’
‘We don’t select Archprelates because we’re fond of them, Ehlana,’ he chided. ‘The Hierocracy tries to select the man who’ll be best for the Church.’
‘Well, of course it does, Sparhawk. Everybody knows that.’ She turned sharply. ‘There it is again,’ she said with exasperation.
‘There what is?’ he asked her.
‘You wouldn’t be able to see it, love,’ she told him. ‘Nobody can see it but me. At first I thought that everyone around me was going blind. It’s a sort of shadow or something. I can’t really see it – not clearly, anyway – but it sort of hovers around behind my back where I can only catch very brief glimpses of it. It always makes me very cold for some reason.’
Sparhawk half-turned, being careful to make it look casual. The shadow appeared to have grown larger and darker, and its malevolence was more pronounced. Why should it have been following Ehlana, though? She had not even touched the Bhelliom. ‘It should go away in time,’ he said carefully, not wanting to alarm her. ‘Don’t forget that Annias gave you a very rare and powerful poison. There are bound to be some lingering after-effects.’
‘I suppose that’s it.’
Then he understood. It was her ring, of course. Sparhawk silently berated himself for not having thought of that possibility earlier. Whatever it was that was behind the shadow would certainly want to keep an eye on both rings.
‘I thought we were making up,’ Ehlana said.
‘We are.’
‘Why aren’t you kissing me then?’
He was attending to that when Kalten came in.
‘Didn’t you ever learn how to knock?’ Sparhawk asked him sourly.
‘Sorry,’ Kalten said. ‘I thought Vanion was in here. I’ll see if I can find him somewhere else. Oh, by the way, here’s something to brighten your day a little more, though – if it really needs it – Tynian and I were out with Wargun’s soldiers flushing deserters out of the houses. We found an old friend hiding in the cellar of a wine shop.’
‘Oh?’
‘For some reason, Martel left Krager behind. We’ll all get together with him for a nice chat – just as soon as he sobers up – and after you two have finished whatever it is you’re doing here.’ He paused. ‘Would you like me to lock the door for you?’ he asked. ‘Or maybe stand guard outside?’
‘Get out of here, Kalten.’ It wasn’t Sparhawk who gave the command, however.
Chapter 17
Krager was not in very good shape when Kalten and Tynian half-carried him into Sir Nashan’s study early that evening. His thin hair was dishevelled, he was unshaven, and his near-sighted eyes were bloodshot. His hands were shaking violently, and his expression was one of misery, a misery that had nothing to do with his capture. The two knights dragged Martel’s underling to a plain chair in the centre of the room and sat him in it. Krager buried his face in his shaking hands.
‘I don’t think we’re going to get much out of him when he’s in this condition,’ King Wargun growled. ‘I’ve been through that sort of thing myself, and I know. Give him some wine. He’ll be more or less coherent when his hands stop shaking.’
Kalten looked at Sir Nashan, and the plump Pandion pointed at an ornate cabinet in the corner. ‘It’s only for medicinal purposes, Lord Vanion,’ Nashan explained quickly.
‘Of course,’ Vanion said.
Kalten opened the cabinet and took out a crystal decanter of Arcian red wine. He poured a large goblet full and handed it to Krager. The suffering man spilled half of it, but he did manage to get the rest down. Kalten poured him another. And then another. Krager’s hands began to grow more steady. He looked around, blinking. ‘I see that I’ve fallen into the hands of mine enemies,’ he said in a voice made rusty by years of hard drinking. ‘Ah well,’ he shrugged, ‘fortunes of war, I suppose.’
‘Your situation here is not enviable,’ Lord Abriel told him ominously.
Ulath took out a whetstone and began sharpening his axe. It made a very unpleasant sound.
‘Please,’ Krager said wearily, ‘I’m not feeling well. Spare me the melodramatic threats. I’m a survivor, gentlemen. I fully understand the situation here. I’ll co-operate with you in exchange for my life.’
‘Isn’t that just a bit contemptible?’ Bevier sneered.
‘Of course it is, Sir Knight,’ Krager drawled, ‘but I’m a contemptible sort of person – or hadn’t you noticed? Actually, I deliberately placed myself in a position so that you could capture me. Martel’s plan was very good – as far as it went – but when it started to fall apart, I decided that I didn’t really want to share his fortunes when they were on the decline. Let’s save time, gentlemen. We all know that I’m too valuable to kill. I know too much. I’ll tell you everything I know in exchange for my life, my freedom and ten thousand gold crowns.’
‘What about your loyalties?’ Patriarch Ortzel asked sternly.
‘Loyalty, Your Grace?’ Krager laughed. ‘To Martel? Don’t be absurd. I worked for Martel because he paid me well. We both knew that. But now you’re in a position to offer me something of much greater value. Do we have a bargain?’
‘Some time on the rack might lower your asking price a bit,’ Wargun told him.
‘I’m not a robust man, King Wargun,’ Krager pointed out, ‘and my health’s never been what you’d call very good. Do you really want to gamble on my expiring under the ministrations of your torturers?’
‘Let it lie,’ Dolmant said. ‘Give him what he wants.’
‘Your Grace is a wise and gracious man.’ Krager laughed suddenly. ‘Awfully sorry about the pun there, Patriarch Dolmant. It was accidental, I assure you.’
‘There’s one restriction, however,’ Dolmant went on. ‘Under the circumstances, we could hardly set you free until such time as your former master is apprehended. By your own admission, you’re not very dependable. Besides, we’ll need a little confirmation of what you tell us.’
‘Perfectly understandable, Your Grace,’ Krager agreed. ‘But no dungeons. My lungs aren’t very strong, and I really should avoid damp places.’
‘A monastery then?’ Dolmant countered.
‘Totally acceptable, Your Grace – on the condition that Sparhawk is not permitted to come within ten miles of the place. Sparhawk’s irrational sometimes, and he’s wanted to kill me for years now – haven’t you, Sparhawk?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Sparhawk admitted freely. ‘I’ll tell you what, Krager. I’ll pledge myself to keep my hands off you until after Martel is dead.’
‘Fair enough, Sparhawk,’ Krager
replied – ‘if you’ll also vow to give me a week’s head start before you come after me. Do we have a bargain, gentlemen?’
‘Tynian,’ Preceptor Darellon said, ‘take him out into the hallway while we discuss this.’
Krager rose shakily to his feet. ‘Come along then, Sir Knight,’ he said to Tynian. ‘You too, Kalten, and don’t forget to bring the wine.’
‘Well?’ King Wargun asked after the closely-guarded prisoner had left the room.
‘Krager himself is unimportant, Your Majesty,’ Vanion said, ‘but he’s absolutely right about the importance of the information he has. I’d advise accepting his terms.’
‘I hate to give him all that gold, though,’ Wargun growled moodily.
‘In Krager’s case, it’s not really a gift,’ Sephrenia said quietly. ‘If you give Krager that much money, he’ll drink himself to death within six months.’
‘That doesn’t sound like much of a punishment to me.’
‘Have you ever seen a man die of the after-effects of drink, Wargun?’ she asked.
‘I can’t say that I have.’
‘You might stop by an asylum sometime and watch the process. You may find it very educational.’
‘Are we agreed then?’ Dolmant asked, looking around. ‘We give this sewer-rat what he asks and confine him to the monastery until such time as we know that he can’t report anything significant to Martel?’
‘All right,’ Wargun gave in grudgingly. ‘Bring him back in and let’s get on with this.’
Sparhawk went to the door and opened it. A scarred man with a shaved head was speaking urgently with Tynian.
‘Kring?’ Sparhawk asked with some surprise, recognizing the Domi of the band of marauding horsemen from the eastern marches of Pelosia. ‘Is that you?’
‘Well, Sparhawk,’ Kring said. ‘It’s good to see you again. I was just bringing friend Tynian here some news. Did you know that the Zemochs are massed in eastern Lamorkand?’
‘We’d heard about it, yes. We were more or less planning to take steps.’
‘Good. I’ve been off with the army of the King of the Thalesians, and one of my men from back home caught up with me here. When you ride out to take those steps you were talking about, don’t concentrate too much on Lamorkand. The Zemochs are marauding into eastern Pelosia as well. My tribesmen have been gathering ears by the bale. I thought the Knights of the Church ought to know about that.’
‘We’re in your debt, Domi,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Why don’t you show friend Tynian here where you’re camped? We’re a bit involved with the Kings of Eosia at the moment, but just as soon as we can break free, we’ll pay you a call.’
‘I’ll make preparations then, Sir Knight,’ Kring promised. ‘We’ll take salt together and talk of affairs.’
‘Indeed we will, my friend,’ Sparhawk promised.
Tynian followed Kring back down the corridor and Sparhawk and Kalten took Krager back into Nashan’s study.
‘Very well, Krager,’ Patriarch Dolmant said quite firmly. ‘We’ll agree to your terms – provided that you’ll agree to confinement in a monastery until it’s safe to release you.’
‘Of course, Your Grace,’ Krager agreed quickly. ‘I need some rest anyway. Martel’s had me running back and forth across the continent for over a year now. What would you like to hear first?’
‘How did this connection between Otha and the Primate of Cimmura begin?’
Krager leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and swirling his wine glass thoughtfully. ‘As I understand it, it all started shortly after the old Patriarch of Cimmura fell ill and Annias took over his responsibilities in the cathedral there. Up until then, the Primate’s goal appeared to have been largely political. He wanted to marry his doxy off to her brother so that he’d be able to run the kingdom of Elenia. After he got a taste of the kind of power the Church could put into a man’s hands, however, his horizons began to expand. Annias is a realist, and he’s fully aware of the fact that he’s not universally loved.’
‘That may be the understatement of the century,’ Komier muttered.
‘You’ve noticed that, My Lord,’ Krager said dryly. ‘Even Martel despises him, and I can’t for the life of me understand how Arissa can bring herself to crawl into the same bed with him. Anyway, Annias knew that he was going to need help in reaching the Archprelate’s throne. Martel got wind of what he had in mind, and he disguised himself and slipped into Cimmura to talk with him. I’m not sure exactly how, but at some time in the past, Martel had made contact with Otha. He wouldn’t ever really talk about it, but I sort of gather that it was in some way connected with his being expelled from the Pandion order.’
Sparhawk and Vanion exchanged a look. ‘It was,’ Vanion said. ‘Go on.’
‘Annias rejected the notion at first, but Martel can be very convincing when he wants to be, and finally the Primate agreed to at least open negotiations. They found a disreputable Styric who was outcast from his band, and they had a long talk with him. He agreed to act as their emissary to Otha, and in due time, a bargain was struck.’
‘And what was this bargain?’ King Dregos of Arcium asked.
‘I’ll get to that in a bit, Your Majesty,’ Krager promised. ‘If I jump around in this, I might forget details.’ He paused and looked around. ‘I hope you’re all taking note of how co-operative I’m being here. Otha sent some of his people to Elenia to provide assistance to Annias. A great deal of that assistance was in the form of gold. Otha’s got tons of it.’
‘What?’ Ehlana exclaimed. ‘I thought Annias had poisoned my father and me primarily to get his hands on the Elenian treasury in order to finance his drive for the Archprelacy.’
‘I’m not trying to be offensive, Your Majesty,’ Krager said, ‘but the Elenian treasury couldn’t have begun to cover the kind of expenses Annias was incurring. His control of it, however, concealed the real source of his funding. Embezzlement is one thing, but consorting with Otha is quite something else. You and your father were actually poisoned for no other reason than to hide the fact that Annias had an unlimited supply of Otha’s gold. Things went on more or less according to plan. Otha provided money and some occasional Styric magic to help Annias obtain his interim goals. Everything was going along fairly well until Sparhawk came back from Rendor. You’re a very disruptive sort of fellow, Sparhawk.’
‘Thank you,’ Sparhawk replied.
‘I’m sure you know most of the rest of the details, My Lords,’ Krager continued. ‘Ultimately, we all wound up here in Chyrellos, and the rest, as they say, is history. Now, getting back to your question, King Dregos. Otha bargains very hard and he asked a great price from Annias for his aid.’
‘What did Annias have to give him?’ Patriarch Bergsten, the huge Thalesian Churchman, asked.
‘His soul, Your Grace,’ Krager replied with a shudder. ‘Otha insisted that Annias convert to the worship of Azash before he’d provide any magic or any money. Martel witnessed the ceremony, and he told me about it. That was one of my duties, incidentally. Martel gets lonesome from time to time, and he needs somebody to talk to. Martel’s not particularly squeamish, but even he was sickened by the rites that celebrated Annias’s conversion.’
‘Did Martel convert too?’ Sparhawk asked intently.
‘I sort of doubt it, Sparhawk. Martel doesn’t really have any religious convictions. He believes in politics, power and money, not Gods.’
‘Which one of them is really in charge?’ Sephrenia asked. ‘Which one is the leader and which the follower?’
‘Annias thinks he’s the one who’s giving the orders, but frankly, I rather doubt it. All of his contacts with Otha are through Martel, but Martel makes contacts of his own that Annias doesn’t know about. I can’t swear to it, but I think there’s a separate arrangement between Martel and Otha. It’s the sort of thing Martel would do.’
‘There’s something more behind all of this, isn’t there?’ Patriarch Emban asked shrewdly. ‘Otha – and Azash
– weren’t really very likely to expend all that money and energy just for the sake of the badly tarnished soul of the Primate of Cimmura, were they?’
‘Of course not, Your Grace,’ Krager agreed. ‘The plan, of course, was to attempt to get what they wanted by following the plan Annias and Martel had already laid out. If the Primate of Cimmura had managed to bribe his way into the Archprelacy, he’d have been able to achieve everything they all wanted without resorting to war, and wars are sometimes chancy.’
‘And what are the things they wanted?’ King Obler asked.
‘Annias is obsessed with becoming Archprelate. Martel’s willing to let him have that. It’s not going to mean anything anyway, if this all goes according to plan. What Martel wants is power, wealth and legitimacy. Otha wants domination of the entire Eosian continent, and, of course, Azash wants the Bhelliom – and the souls of everyone in the whole world. Annias will live forever – or very close to it – and he was going to spend the next several centuries using his power as Archprelate to gradually bring the Elenes over to the worship of Azash.’
‘That’s monstrous!’ Ortzel exclaimed.
‘Moderately so, yes, Your Grace,’ Krager agreed. ‘Martel will get an imperial crown with only slightly less power than Otha’s. He’ll rule all of western Eosia. Then you’ll have the four of them – Otha and Martel as emperors, Annias as high priest of the Church and Azash as God. Then they’ll be able to turn their attention to the Rendors and to the Tamul empire in Daresia.’
‘How did they propose to get Bhelliom for Azash?’ Sparhawk asked bleakly.
‘Subterfuge, deceit, outright purchase or main force, if necessary. Listen to me, Sparhawk.’ Krager’s face was suddenly deadly serious. ‘Martel’s led you to believe that he’ll go north a little way and then turn towards eastern Lamorkand to join with Otha. He’s going to Otha, all right, but Otha’s not in Lamorkand. His generals are much better at fighting wars than he is. He’s still in his capital in the city of Zemoch itself. That’s where Martel and Annias are going, and they want you to follow them.’ He paused. ‘I was told to tell you that, of course,’ he admitted. ‘Martel wants you to follow him to Zemoch and to bring Bhelliom with you. They’re all afraid of you for some reason, and I don’t think it’s just because you’ve managed to find Bhelliom. Martel doesn’t want to face you directly, and that’s not really like him. They want you to go to Zemoch so that Azash can deal with you.’ Krager’s face twisted in sudden anguish and horror. ‘Don’t go, Sparhawk,’ he pleaded. ‘For God’s sake, don’t go! If Azash takes Bhelliom away from you, the world is doomed.’