The Diamond Throne

‘As God gives me breath, it shall be as you say, Aldreas,’ Sparhawk swore.

‘And when my pale little daughter ascends to her rightful place upon my throne, tell her, I pray thee, that I did truly love her’

‘If that, please God, should come to pass, Aldreas, I will.’

‘It must, Sparhawk. It must else all that Elenia hath ever been shall be as naught. Only Ehlana is the true heir to the throne of Elenia. I charge thee, do not let my throne be usurped by the fruit of the unclean coupling of my sister and the Primate of Cimmura.’

‘My sword shall prevent it, my King,’ Sparhawk pledged fervently ‘All three will lie dead in their own blood before this week sees its end.’

‘And thy life as well shall be lost in thy rush to vengeance, Sparhawk, and how will thy sacrifice restore my daughter to her rightful place?’

Aldreas, Sparhawk concluded, was far wiser in death than he had been in life.

‘The time for vengeance will come in its own proper order, my Champion,’ the ghost told him. ‘First, however, I charge thee to restore my daughter Ehlana. And to that end I am permitted to reveal certain truths to thee. No nostrum nor talisman of lesser worth may heal my child, for only Bhelliom can make her whole again.’

Sparhawk’s heart sank.

‘Be not dismayed, Sparhawk, for the time hath come for Bhelliom to emerge from the place where it hath lain hidden and once again to stir the earth with its power. It moves in its own time and with its own purpose, and this is that time, for events have moved mankind to the place where its purposes may now be accomplished. No force in all the world can prevent Bhelliom from coming forth into the sunlight again, and whole nations await its coming. Be thou the one who finds it, however, for only in thy hand can its full power be released to roll back the darkness which even now stalks the earth. Thou art no longer my Champion, Sparhawk, but the Champion of all this world. Shouldst thou fail, all will fail.’

‘And where should I seek, my King?’

‘That I am forbidden to reveal. I can, however, tell thee how to unleash its power once it lies in thy grasp. The blood-red ring which adorns thy hand and that which in life adorned mine are older far than we had imagined. He who fashioned Bhelliom fashioned the rings, also, and they are the keys which will unlock the power of the jewel.’

‘But your ring is lost, Aldreas. The Primate of Cimmura tore the palace apart again and again searching for it.’

A ghostly chuckle came from the sarcophagus. ‘I still have it, Sparhawk,’ Aldreas said. ‘After my dear sister had given me her last fatal kiss and departed I had moments of lucidity I concealed the ring to deny possession of it to my enemies. Despite all the desperate efforts of the Primate of Cimmura, it was buried with me. Think back, Sparhawk. Remember the old legends. At the time my family and thine were bonded together by these rings, thy ancestor gave to mine his own war spear in token of his allegiance. Thus I return it.’

A ghostly hand rose from the sarcophagus holding a short-handled, broad-bladed spear in its grasp. The weapon was very old, and its symbolic importance had been forgotten over the centuries. Sparhawk reached out his hand and took it from the ghostly hand of Aldreas. ‘I will carry it with pride, my King,’ he said.

‘Pride is a hollow thing, Sparhawk. The significance of the spear goes far beyond that. Detach the blade from the shaft and look within the socket.’

Sparhawk set down his candle, put his hand to the blade and twisted the tough wood of the shaft. With a dry squeak, the two separated. He looked into the ancient steel socket of the blade. The blood-red glitter of a ruby winked back at him.

‘I have but one more instruction for thee, my Champion,’ the ghost continued. ‘Should it come to pass that thy quest reaches its conclusion only after my daughter joins me in the House of the Dead, it lies upon thee to destroy Bhelliom, though this shall surely cost thee thy life.’

‘But how may I destroy a thing of such power?’ Sparhawk protested.

‘Keep thou my ring in the place where I have concealed it. Should all go well, return it to my daughter when she sits again in splendour upon her throne; but should she die, continue thy quest for Bhelliom, though the search takes thee all the days of thy life. And when it comes to pass that thou findest it, seize the spear in the hand which bears thy ring and drive it into the heart of Bhelliom with all thy might. The jewel will be destroyed.

as will the rings – and in that act shalt thou lose thy life. Fail not in this, Sparhawk, for a dark power doth bestride the earth, and Bhelliom must never fall into its hands.’

Sparhawk bowed. ‘It shall be as you command, my King,’ he swore.

A sigh came from the sarcophagus. ‘It is done, then,’ Aldreas whispered. ‘I have done what I could to aid thee, and this completes the task which I left unfinished. Do not fail me. Hail then, Sparhawk, and farewell.’

‘Hail and farewell, Aldreas.’

The crypt was still chill and empty, save for the ranks of the royal dead. The hollow whisper had fallen silent now Sparhawk rejoined the parts of the spear, then reached out his hand and laid it over the heart of the leaden effigy ‘Sleep well, Aldreas,’ he said softly Then with the ancient spear in his grasp, he turned and quietly left the tomb.