The Diamond Throne

‘Yes, Most Holy,’ Martel said, bowing. ‘I shall come back immediately’

‘Within the hour, Sparhawk,’ Arasham said.

‘Within the hour, Most Holy,’ Sparhawk agreed with a deep bow ‘Come along then, Martel,’ he said, once again smacking his hand down on the renegade’s shoulder.

‘Of course.’ Martel winced, once again shrinking from Sparhawk’s comradely blow.

Once they were outside the pavilion, Martel turned on Sparhawk, his face white with fury ‘Just what do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded.

‘Testy today, aren’t we, old boy?” Sparhawk said mildly

‘What are you up to, Sparhawk?’ Martel snarled, looking around to be sure that no one in the crowd of hovering disciples could hear him.

‘I’ve just spiked your wheel, Martel,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘Arasham will sit here until he petrifies unless someone brings him that secret word. I can almost guarantee you that the Church Knights will be in Chyrellos when the time comes to elect the new Archprelate, because there won’t be anything going on in Rendor to drag them away’

‘Very clever, Sparhawk.’

‘I’m glad you liked it’

‘This is one more debt you owe me,’ Martel grated.

‘Feel free to call them in at any time, dear brother,’ Sparhawk said. ‘I’ll be more than happy to accommodate you.’ He took Sephrenia by the elbow and led her away

‘Are you completely out of your senses, Sparhawk?’ she demanded once they were out of earshot of the fuming Martel.

‘I don’t think so,’ he replied. ‘Of course crazy people never really know, do they?’

‘What were you doing in there? Do you realize how many times I had to step in to keep you out of trouble?’

‘I noticed that. I couldn’t have pulled it off without you.’

‘Will you stop smirking and tell me what was behind all that?’

‘Martel was getting too close to our real reason for being here,’ he explained. ‘I had to throw something else in his path to keep him from realizing that we’d unearthed a possible antidote for the poison. It all worked out rather well, even if I do say so myself.’

‘If you knew you were going to do that before you went into the tent, why didn’t you tell me?’

‘How could I have known, Sephrenia? I didn’t even know Martel was there until I saw him.’

‘You mean.’ Her eyes went suddenly very wide.

He nodded. ‘I sort of made it up as I went along,’ he confessed.

‘Oh, Sparhawk,’ she said disgusted, ‘you know better than that.’

He shrugged. ‘It was about the best I could do at short notice’

‘Why did you keep hitting Martel on the shoulder like that?’

‘He broke that shoulder when he was about fifteen. It’s always been very sensitive.’ ‘That was cruel,’ she accused.

‘So was what happened in that alley back in Cippria ten years ago. Let’s go get Kurik and Flute. I think we’ve done about all we can here in Dabour.’

Arasham’s boat was more like a barge than the scow which had carried them upriver, and it was perhaps four times as large Banks of oarsmen lined each side, and black-robed zealots with swords and javelins clustered in the torchlit bow and stern. Martel had preceded them to the rickety dock, and he stood alone there, some distance from the hot-eyed disciples on shore, as Sparhawk, Sephrenia, Kurik, and Flute embarked. The renegade’s white hair gleamed in the starlight, and his face was very nearly as pale

‘You’re not going to get away with this, Sparhawk,’ he said in a low voice

‘Oh?’ Sparhawk said. ‘I think you’d better look again, Martel. It seems to me that I already have. You can try to follow me, of course, but all those troops patrolling the river banks are probably going to get in your way. Besides, I think that once you get over your pique, you’ll realize that about the only thing you can do is stay here and try to wheedle that magic word out of Arasham. Everything you’ve set up here in Rendor will be at a standstill until you do.’

‘You’ll pay for this, Sparhawk,’ Martel promised darkly

‘I thought I already had, old boy,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘In Cippria, I believe it was.’ He reached out, and Martel jerked his shoulder out of range. Instead, however, Sparhawk patted him on the cheek insultingly. Take care of yourself, Martel,’ he said. ‘I want to see you again soon, and I want you to be well and in full possession of your faculties. Believe me, you’re going to need them.’ Then he turned and went up the gangway to the waiting barge

The sailors cast off all lines and pushed the barge out into the slowly moving current. Then they ran out their oars and began to row slowly downriver. The dock behind them and the solitary man standing on the end of it shrank out of sight.

‘Oh, God!’ Sparhawk cried exultantly, ‘I loved that!’

The run downriver took them a day and a half, and they disembarked a league or so upstream from Jiroch to avoid any watchers Martel might have managed to get to the docks ahead of them. The precaution was probably unnecessary, Sparhawk admitted, but there was no point in taking chances. They entered the city through the west gate and mingled with the crowds as they made their way to Voren’s house again. It was late afternoon when they entered.

Voren was a trifle surprised at their reappearance ‘That was quick,’ he said as they entered his garden.

‘We were lucky,’ Sparhawk shrugged.

‘More than lucky,’ Sephrenia said darkly. The small woman’s temper had not noticeably improved since they had left Dabour, and she still refused even to talk to Sparhawk.

‘Did something go wrong?’ Voren asked mildly

‘Not that I noticed,’ Sparhawk replied blithely.

‘Stop congratulating yourself, Sparhawk,’ she snapped. ‘I’m vexed with you, very vexed.’

‘I’m sorry about that, Sephrenia, but I did the best I could.’ He turned to Voren. ‘We ran into Martel,’ he explained, ‘and I managed to stop him in his tracks. His whole scheme just collapsed around his ears.’

Voren whistled. ‘I don’t see anything wrong with that, Sephrenia.’

‘It’s not what he did, Voren. It was the way he did it.’ ‘Oh?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ She gathered Flute up in her arms, went to the bench by the fountain, and sat muttering darkly to the little girl in Styric