The Sapphire Rose
Page 21‘Why, whatever is the matter, dear?’ Ehlana asked innocently.
He pointed at his throat, making strangling noises.
When Sparhawk had somewhat regained his breath and a few shreds of his composure, the Earl of Lenda looked at his queen. ‘I gather then that Your Majesty has accepted your champion’s proposal?’
‘Of course I have. That’s what I was doing when you came in.’
‘Oh,’ the old man said. ‘I see.’ Lenda was a consummate politician, and he was able to make statements like that without cracking a smile.
‘Congratulations, My Lord,’ Kurik said gruffly, seizing Sparhawk’s hand in a grip of iron and shaking it vigorously.
Kalten was staring at Ehlana. ‘Sparhawk?’ he demanded incredulously.
‘Isn’t it odd how your closest friends never fully understand your greatness, my dear?’ she said to Sparhawk. ‘Sir Kalten,’ she said then, ‘your boyhood friend is the paramount knight in the world. Any woman would be honoured to have him as her husband.’ She smiled smugly. ‘I’m the one who got him, however. All right, friends, please be seated and tell me what’s been happening to my kingdom while I’ve been ill. I trust you’ll be brief. My betrothed and I have many plans to make.’
Vanion had remained standing. He looked around at the others. ‘If I leave out anything important, don’t hesitate to step in and correct me,’ he said. He looked up at the ceiling. ‘Where to begin?’ he mused.
‘You might start by telling me what it was that made me so ill, Lord Vanion,’ Ehlana suggested.
‘You were poisoned, Your Majesty.’
‘A very rare poison from Rendor – the same one that killed your father.’
‘Who was responsible?’
‘In your father’s case, it was his sister. In yours, it was the Primate Annias. You knew that he’s had his eyes on the throne of the Archprelate in Chyrellos, didn’t you?’
‘Of course. I was doing what I could to stand in his way. If he reaches that throne, I think I’ll convert to Eshandism – or maybe even become Styric. Would your God accept me, Sephrenia?’
‘Goddess, Your Majesty,’ Sephrenia corrected. ‘I serve a Goddess.’
‘What an extraordinarily practical notion. Would I have to cut off my hair and sacrifice a few Elene children to her?’
‘Don’t be absurd, Ehlana.’
‘I’m only teasing, Sephrenia,’ Ehlana laughed, ‘but isn’t that what the Elene commons say about Styrics? How did you find out about the poisonings, Lord Vanion?’
Vanion quickly described Sparhawk’s meeting with the ghost of King Aldreas and the recovery of the ring which now – mistakenly – decorated the champion’s hand. He then moved on, covering the de facto rule of Annias and the elevation of the queen’s cousin to the Prince Regency.
‘Lycheas?’ she exclaimed at that point. ‘Ridiculous. He can’t even dress himself.’ She frowned. ‘If I was poisoned and it was the same poison that killed my father, how is it that I’m still alive?’
Vanion then spoke of Sparhawk’s return from Rendor and their growing conviction that Annias had poisoned her primarily to gain access to her treasury in order to finance his campaign for the Archprelacy.
Sparhawk took up the story at that point and told the young lady who had so recently netted him of the trip of the group of Church Knights and their companions to Chyrellos, then to Borrata and finally on down into Rendor.
‘Who is Flute?’ Ehlana interrupted him at one point.
‘A Styric foundling,’ he replied. ‘At least we thought she was. She seemed to be about six years old, but she turned out to be much, much older than that.’ He continued his account, describing the trek across Rendor and the meeting with the physician in Dabour who had finally told them that only magic could save the stricken queen. He then went on to tell her of the meeting with Martel.
‘I never liked him,’ she declared, making a face.
‘He’s working for Annias now,’ Sparhawk told her, ‘and he was in Rendor at the same time we were. There was a crazy old religious fanatic down there – Arasham – and he was the spiritual leader of the kingdom. Martel was trying to persuade him to invade the western Elene kingdoms as a diversion to give Annias a free hand during the election of the new Archprelate. Sephrenia and I went to Arasham’s tent, and Martel was there.’
‘Did you kill him?’ Ehlana asked fiercely.
Sparhawk blinked. This was a side of her he had never seen. ‘The time wasn’t exactly right, My Queen,’ he apologized. ‘I came up with a subterfuge instead and persuaded Arasham not to invade until he received word from me. Martel was furious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He and I had a nice chat later, and he told me that he was the one who had found the poison and passed it on to Annias.’
‘Would that stand up in a court of law, My Lord?’ Ehlana asked the Earl of Lenda.
‘It would depend on the judge, Your Majesty,’ he replied.
‘Most irregular, Your Majesty,’ he murmured.
‘So was what they did to my father and me. Go on with the story, Sparhawk.’
‘We returned here to Cimmura and went to the chapterhouse. That’s where I received the summons to go to the royal crypt under the cathedral to meet with your father’s ghost. He told me a number of things – first that it was your aunt who had poisoned him and that it was Annias who’d poisoned you. He also told me that Lycheas was the result of certain intimacies between Annias and Arissa.’
‘Thank God!’ Ehlana exclaimed. ‘I was half-afraid that he was my father’s bastard. It’s bad enough to have to admit that he’s my cousin, but a brother? Unthinkable.’
‘Your father’s ghost also told me that the only thing that could save your life was the Bhelliom.’
‘What’s the Bhelliom?’
Sparhawk reached inside his doublet and drew out the canvas pouch. He opened it and drew out the Sapphire Rose. ‘This is Bhelliom, Your Majesty,’ he told her. Once again he felt more than saw that annoying flicker of darkness at the very edge of his vision. He shook off the feeling as he held out the jewel.