‘What is it, Sparhawk?’ Danae’s lips moved, but it was Sephrenia’s voice that asked the question, and when Danae opened her eyes, they had changed. Danae’s eyes were very dark; Sephrenia’s were deep blue, almost lavender.
‘We miss you, little mother,’ he told her kneeling and kissing the palms of his daughter’s hands.
‘You called me from half-way round the world to tell me that? I’m touched, but …’
‘It’s something a little more, Sephrenia. We’ve been seeing that shadow again – the cloud too.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘I sort of thought so myself, but we keep seeing them all the same. It’s different, though. It feels different for one thing, and this time it’s not just Ehlana and I who see it. Stragen and Ulath saw it too.’
‘You’d better tell me exactly what’s been happening, Sparhawk.’
He went into greater detail about the shadow and then briefly described the incident in the mountains near Cardos. ‘Whatever this thing is,’ he concluded, ‘it seems very intent on keeping us from finding out what’s going on in Lamorkand.’
‘Is there some kind of trouble there?’
‘Count Gerrich is raising a rebellion. He seems to think that the crown might fit him. He’s even going so far as to claim that Drychtnath’s returned. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?’
Her eyes grew distant. ‘Is this shadow you’ve been seeing exactly the same as the one you and Ehlana saw before?’ she asked.
‘It feels different somehow.’
‘Do you get that same sense that it has more than one consciousness in it?’
‘That hasn’t changed. It’s a small group, but it’s a group all the same, and the cloud that tore the Earl of Belton to pieces was definitely the same. Did the Troll-Gods manage to escape from Bhelliom somehow?’
‘Let me think my way through it for a moment, Sparhawk,’ she replied. She considered it for a time. In a curious way she was impressing her own appearance on Danae’s face. ‘I think we may have a problem, dear one,’ she said finally.
‘I noticed that myself, little mother.’
‘Stop trying to be clever, Sparhawk. Do you remember the Dawn-men who came out of that cloud up in Pelosia?’
Sparhawk shuddered. ‘I’ve been making a special point of trying to forget that.’
‘Don’t discount the possibility that the wild stories about Drychtnath may have some basis in fact. The Troll-Gods can reach back in time and bring creatures and people forward to where we are now. Drychtnath may very well indeed have returned.’
Sparhawk groaned. ‘Then the Troll-Gods have managed to escape, haven’t they?’
‘I didn’t say that, Sparhawk. Just because the Troll-Gods did this once doesn’t mean that they’re the only ones who know how. For all I know, Aphrael could do it herself.’ She paused. ‘You could have asked her these questions, you know.’
‘Possibly, but I don’t think I could have asked her this one, because I don’t think she’d know the answer. She doesn’t seem to be able to grasp the concept of limitations for some reason.’
‘You’ve noticed,’ she said dryly.
‘Be nice. She’s my daughter, after all.’
‘She was my sister first, so I have a certain amount of seniority in the matter. What is it that she wouldn’t be able to answer?’
‘Could a Styric magician – or any other magician – be behind all this? Could we be dealing with a human?’
‘No, Sparhawk, I don’t think so. In forty thousand years there have only been two Styric magicians who were able to reach back into time, and they could only do it imperfectly. For all practical purposes what we’re talking about is beyond human capability.’
‘That’s what I wanted to find out for sure. We’re dealing with Gods then?’
‘I’m afraid so, Sparhawk, almost certainly.’
CHAPTER 4 (#ulink_33065243-6867-5c38-a6f6-cd4753c761ff)
Preceptor Sparhawk:
It is our hope that this finds you and your family in good health.
A matter of some delicacy has arisen, and we find that your presence is required here in Chyrellos. You are therefore commanded by the Church to proceed forthwith to the Basilica and to present yourself before our throne to receive our further instruction. We know that as true son of the Church you will not delay. We shall expect your attendance upon us within the week.
Dolmant, Archprelate.
Sparhawk lowered the letter and looked around at the others.
‘He gets right to the point, doesn’t he?’ Kalten observed. ‘Of course Dolmant never was one to beat around the bush.’
Queen Ehlana gave a howl of absolute fury and began beating her fists on the council table and stamping her feet on the floor.
‘You’ll hurt your hands,’ Sparhawk cautioned.
‘How dare he?’ she exploded. ‘How dare he?’
‘A bit abrupt, perhaps,’ Stragen noted cautiously.
‘You will ignore this churlish command, Sparhawk!’ Ehlana ordered.
‘I can’t do that.’
‘You are my husband and my subject! If Dolmant wants to see you, he’ll ask my permission! This is outrageous!’
‘The Archprelate does in fact have the authority to summon the preceptor of one of the Militant Orders to Chyrellos, your Majesty,’ the Earl of Lenda diffidently told the fuming queen.
‘You’re wearing too many hats, Sparhawk,’ Tynian told his friend. ‘You should resign from a few of these exalted positions you hold.’
‘It’s that devastating personality of his,’ Kalten said to Ulath, ‘and all those unspeakable gifts. People just wither and die in his absence.’
‘I forbid it!’ Ehlana said flatly.
‘I have to obey him, Ehlana,’ Sparhawk explained. ‘I’m a Church Knight.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Very well then,’ she decided, ‘since Dolmant’s feeling so authoritarian, we’ll all obey his stupid command. We’ll go to Chyrellos and set up shop in the Basilica. I’ll let him know that I expect him to provide me with adequate facilities and an administrative staff – at his expense. He and I are going to have this out once and for all.’
‘This promises to be one of the high points in the history of the Church,’ Stragen observed.
