‘Did you get hit on the head when you had that fight with Ghwerig?’ It was Kalten, who was also wearing his formal black armour and who entered with his helmet under his arm.

‘Not really,’ Sparhawk replied, ‘why?’

‘You’re talking to yourself. Most people don’t do that, you know.’

‘You’re wrong, Kalten. Almost everybody does it. Most of the time, though, it involves rewriting past conversations – or planning ones yet to come.’

‘Which were you doing just now?’

‘Neither. I was sort of warning Annias and Martel what to expect.’

‘They couldn’t hear you, you know.’

‘Maybe not, but giving them some kind of warning is the knightly thing to do. At least I’ll know I said it – even if they don’t.’

‘I don’t think I’ll bother with that when I go after Adus,’ Kalten grinned. ‘Do you have any idea of how long it would take to pound a thought into Adus? Oh, who gets to kill Krager, by the way?’

‘Let’s give him to somebody who does something nice for us.’

‘Sounds fair.’ Kalten paused, and his face grew serious. ‘Is it going to work, Sparhawk? Will Bhelliom really cure Ehlana – or have we just been fooling ourselves?’

‘I think it’s going to work. We have to believe that it will. Bhelliom’s very, very powerful.’

‘Have you ever used it at all?’

‘Once. I collapsed a ridge-line in the mountains of Thalesia with it.’

‘Why?’

‘It needed to be done. Don’t think about Bhelliom, Kalten. It’s very dangerous to do that.’

Kalten looked sceptical. ‘Are you going to let Ulath shorten Lycheas a bit when we get to the palace? Ulath really enjoys doing that to people – or I could hang the bastard, if you’d prefer.’

‘I don’t know,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Maybe we should wait and let Ehlana make the decision.’

‘Why bother her with it? She’s probably going to be a little weak after all this, and as her champion, you really ought to try to spare her any exertion.’ Kalten squinted at Sparhawk. ‘Don’t take this wrong,’ he said, ‘but Ehlana is a woman, after all, and women are notoriously tenderhearted. If we leave it up to her, she may not let us kill him at all. I’d rather have him safely dead before she wakes up. We’ll apologize to her, of course, but it’s very hard to un-kill somebody, no matter how sorry you are.’

‘You’re a barbarian, Kalten.’

‘Me? Oh, by the way, Vanion’s got our brothers putting on their armour. We should all be ready by the time the sun’s up and the people in the city open the gates.’ Kalten frowned. ‘That might present a problem, though. There’ll be church soldiers at the gates, and they may try to slam them shut in our faces when they see us coming.’

‘That’s what battering rams are for,’ Sparhawk shrugged.

‘The queen might get a little cross with you if she finds out that you’ve been knocking down the gates of her capital city.’

‘We’ll make the church soldiers repair them.’

‘It’s honest work right enough, and that’s something church soldiers know very little about. I’d suggest you take a hard look at that stretch of cobblestones outside our gate before you make any final decisions, though. Church soldiers aren’t very handy with tools.’ The big blond man sank into a chair, his armour creaking. ‘It’s taken us a long time, Sparhawk, but it’s almost over now, isn’t it?’

‘Very nearly,’ Sparhawk agreed, ‘and once Ehlana’s well again, we can go looking for Martel.’

Kalten’s eyes brightened. ‘And Annias,’ he added. ‘I think we should hang him from the arch of the main gate of Chyrellos.’

‘He’s a Church Primate, Kalten,’ Sparhawk said in a pained voice. ‘You can’t do that to him.’

‘We can apologize to him later.’

‘How exactly do you propose to do that?’

Til work something out,’ Kalten replied in an offhand manner. ‘Maybe we could call it a mistake or something.’

The sun had risen by the time they gathered in the courtyard. Vanion, looking pale and drawn, struggled down the stairs with a large case. ‘The swords,’ he explained tersely to Sparhawk. ‘Sephrenia says we’ll need them when we get to the throne-room.’

‘Can’t somebody else carry them for you?’ Kalten asked him.

‘No. They’re my burden. As soon as Sephrenia comes down, we’ll get started.’

The small Styric woman seemed very calm, even remote, when she emerged from the chapterhouse with Sir Gared’s sword in her hands and with Talen close behind her.

‘Are you all right?’ Sparhawk asked her.

‘I’ve been preparing myself for the ritual in the throne-room,’ she replied.

‘There might be some fighting,’ Kurik said. ‘Is it really a good idea for us to bring Talen along with us?’

‘I can protect him,’ she said, ‘and his presence is necessary. There are reasons, but I don’t think you’d understand them.’

‘Let’s mount up and go,’ Vanion said.

There was a great deal of clinking as the hundred black-armoured Pandion Knights climbed into their saddles. Sparhawk took his customary place at Vanion’s side with Kalten, Bevier, Tynian and Ulath close behind them and the column of Pandions strung out to the rear. They crossed the drawbridge at a trot and bore down on the startled group of church soldiers outside the gate. At a curt signal from Vanion, a score of Pandions swung out from the column and encircled the so-called workmen. ‘Hold them here until the rest of us take the city gates,’ Vanion instructed. ‘Then bring them into the city and rejoin us.’

‘Yes, My Lord,’ Sir Perraine replied.

‘All right, gentlemen,’ Vanion said then, ‘I think a gallop is in order at this point. Let’s not give the soldiers in the city too much time to prepare for our arrival.’

They thundered across the rather short distance between the chapterhouse and the east gate of Cimmura. Despite Kalten’s concern about the possibility of the gates being closed to them, the soldiers there were too surprised to react in time.

‘Sir Knights!’ an officer protested shrilly. ‘You can’t enter the city without the Prince Regent’s authorization!’