‘An aqueduct,’ Nashan supplied.

‘That’s a peculiar word. Anyway, I found it, and I followed it, and it came out in the cellar of a warehouse several streets on out in the city. It doesn’t go any farther than that, though, but it doesn’t really have to. There’s a door leading out from the cellar into an alley. That’s the information I was selling to the thieves of Chyrellos. Anyway, I was down in that cellar this afternoon, and I saw Martel come sneaking out of that passageway. I hid and he went on by. He was alone, so I followed him, and he went into a kind of store-room. Annias was waiting for him there. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they had their heads very close together like men doing some very serious plotting. They talked together for a while, and then they left the store-room. Martel told Annias to wait for the usual signal and then to meet him again down there. He said, “I’ll want you somewhere safe when the fighting starts.” Then Annias said that he was still worried about the possibility of Wargun showing up, but Martel laughed and said, “Don’t worry about Wargun, my friend. He’s blithely ignorant of everything that’s happening here.” Then they left. I waited a while and came right here.’

‘How did Martel find out about the aqueduct?’ Kalten asked him.

‘Some of his men probably chased one of the thieves and found it,’ Talen shrugged. ‘Everybody gets civic-spirited when it comes to chasing thieves. I’ve been chased by absolute strangers sometimes.’

‘That explains Wargun’s absence,’ Komier said bleakly. ‘All our messengers have probably been ambushed.’

‘And Ehlana’s still sitting in Cimmura with only Stragen and Platime to defend her,’ Sparhawk said in a worried tone. ‘I think I’ll go down to that cellar and wait for Martel. He’ll come along eventually and I can waylay him.’

‘Absolutely not!’ Emban said sharply.

‘Your Grace,’ Sparhawk objected, ‘I think you’re overlooking the fact that if Martel dies, this siege dies with him.’

‘And I think you’re overlooking the fact that our real goal here is to defeat Annias in the election. I need a report of a conversation between Annias and Martel to swing the votes I need to beat the Primate of Cimmura. Our situation here is getting very tenuous, gentlemen. Every time those fires out there sweep into a new quarter, we lose a few more votes.’

‘Wouldn’t Talen’s report of a meeting between Annias and Martel make the Hierocracy suspicious, Your Grace?’ Kalten asked.

‘Most of the Hierocracy have never heard of Martel, Sir Kalten,’ Emban replied, ‘and this boy’s not the most reliable of witnesses. Somebody in Chyrellos is bound to know that he’s a thief. We have to have a totally incorruptible and reliable witness. One whose neutrality and objectivity can never be questioned.’

‘The commander of the Archprelate’s personal guard, perhaps?’ Ortzel suggested.

‘The very man,’ Emban agreed, snapping his fingers. ‘If we can get him down into the cellar where he can hear Martel and Annias talking, it might give me something to place before the Hierocracy.’

‘Aren’t you overlooking the fact that when Martel comes through that aqueduct, he’s going to have a small army with him, Your Grace?’ Vanion asked. ‘He said something about wanting to get Annias to safety before the fighting starts. That sounds to me as if he plans to lead a surprise attack into the Basilica itself. Your witness won’t find a very attentive audience if all the Patriarchs are running for their lives.’

‘Don’t trouble me with these details, Vanion,’ Emban said airily. ‘Just post some men down there.’

‘Gladly, but where do I get the men?’

‘Take some of those fellows off the walls. They’re not doing anything useful anyway.’

Vanion’s face turned very red, and a thick vein started to throb in his forehead.

‘You’d better let me tell him, Vanion,’ Komier suggested. ‘We don’t want you to come down with the apoplexy.’ He turned casually to the fat little Patriarch. ‘Your Grace,’ he said mildly, ‘when you’re planning a surprise attack, you usually want to divert your enemy’s attention. Doesn’t that sort of make sense?’

‘Well –’ Emban said a bit dubiously.

‘At least that’s the way I’d do it, and Martel’s had a great deal of training. I sort of suspect that what’s going to happen is that Martel’s going to wait until he gets those mangoes built –’

‘Mangonels,’ Preceptor Abriel corrected.

‘Whatever,’ Komier shrugged. ‘Then he’s going to start bashing down our walls. Then he’s going to attack the walls with every man he can muster. Believe me, Your Grace, the men on the walls – or what’s left of the walls – are going to be very, very busy. That’s when Martel’s going to come into the cellar, and we’re not going to have any men to spare to meet him.’

‘Why do you have to be so blasted clever, Komier?’ Emban snapped.

‘What do we do then?’ Dolmant asked them.

‘We don’t have any choice, Your Grace,’ Vanion replied, ‘We’re going to have to collapse that aqueduct so that Martel can’t get through.’

‘But if you do that, we won’t have any report of the meeting between Annias and Martel!’ Emban protested shrilly.

‘Try to look at the whole picture, Emban,’ Dolmant said patiently. ‘Do we really want Martel voting when we elect a new Archprelate?’

Chapter 14

‘They’re ceremonial troops, Your Grace,’ Vanion objected. ‘This isn’t a parade or a formal changing of the guard.’ The four of them, Vanion, Dolmant, Sparhawk and Sephrenia were gathered in Sir Nashan’s study.

‘I’ve seen them training in the courtyard outside their barracks, Vanion,’ Dolmant said patiently. ‘I still remember enough of my own training to recognize professionals when I see them.’

‘How many of them are there, Your Grace?’ Sparhawk asked.

‘Three hundred,’ the Patriarch replied. ‘As the Archprelate’s personal guard, they’re wholly committed to the defence of the Basilica.’ Dolmant leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. ‘I don’t see that we have much choice, Vanion,’ he said. His lean, ascetic face seemed almost to glow in the candlelight. ‘Emban was right, you know. All our scrambling for votes has gone out of the window now. My brothers in the Hierocracy are very attached to their houses.’ He made a sour face. ‘It’s one of the few forms of vanity left for members of the higher clergy. We all wear plain cassocks, so we can’t show off our clothing; we don’t marry, so we can’t show off our wives; we’re committed to peace, so we can’t demonstrate our prowess on the battlefield. All that’s left for us are our palaces. We lost at least twenty votes when we pulled back to the walls of the inner city and abandoned the palaces of my brothers to Martel’s looters. We absolutely must have some evidence of the collusion between Annias and Martel. If we can do that, we turn it around. The burning of the palaces becomes Annias’s fault instead of ours.’ He looked at Sephrenia then. ‘I’m going to have to ask you to do something, little mother,’ he said.