‘Not here, though. I’ll find someplace.’
‘What happened last night?’
‘We have to go to Tamuli.’
‘I thought you were going to do something about Drychtnath.’
‘I am – in a way. It seems that there’s something – or someone – over on the Daresian continent that’s behind Drychtnath. I think we’ll be able to find out more about him there than we ever would here. I’ll make arrangements to have you taken back to Cimmura.’
She pursed her small mouth. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘I’d better go along with you.’
‘That’s absolutely out of the question.’
‘Oh, Sparhawk, do grow up. I’m going along because you’re going to need me when we get there.’ She negligently tossed Rollo over into a corner. ‘I’m also going because you can’t stop me. Come up with some reason for it, Sparhawk. Otherwise you’ll have to explain to mother how it is that I managed to get ahead of you when you all find me sitting in a tree alongside a road somewhere. Get dressed father, and go find a place where we can talk privately.’
Some time later, Sparhawk and his daughter climbed a narrow, spiralling wooden staircase that led to the cupola atop the dome of the Basilica. There was quite probably no more private place in the world, particularly in view of the fact that the wooden stairs leading up to the little bell-tower did not so much creak as they did shriek when anyone began to climb them.
When they reached the unenclosed little house high above the city, Danae spent several minutes gazing out over Chyrellos. ‘You can always see so much better from up high like this,’ she said. ‘It’s just about the only reason I’ve ever found for flying.’
‘Can you really fly?’
‘Of course. Can’t you?’
‘You know better, Aphrael.’
‘I was only teasing you, Sparhawk,’ she laughed. ‘Let’s get started.’ She sat down, crossed her legs and lifted her little face to sing that trilling song she had raised back in Cimmura. Then again, her eyes closed and her face went blank as the song died away.
‘What is it this time, Sparhawk?’ Sephrenia’s voice was a bit tart.
‘What’s the matter, little mother?’
‘Do you realise that it’s the middle of the night here?’
‘It is?’
‘Of course it is. The sun’s on your side of the world now.’
‘Astonishing – though I suppose it stands to reason if you think about it. Did I disturb you?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact you did.’
‘What were you doing so late at night?’
‘None of your business. What do you want?’
‘We’ll be coming to Daresia soon.’
‘What?’
‘The emperor asked us to come – well, he asked me actually. The rest are sort of tagging along. Ehlana’s going to make a state visit to Matherion to sort of give us all an excuse for being there.’
‘Have you taken leave of your senses? Tamuli’s a very dangerous place right now.’
‘Probably not much more than Eosia is. We were attacked by ancient Lamorks on our way here to Chyrellos from Cimmura.’
‘Perhaps they were just modern-day Lamorks dressed in ancient garb.’
‘I rather doubt that, Sephrenia. They vanished when their attack began to fail.’
‘All of them?’
‘Except for the ones who were already dead. Would a little logic offend you?’
‘Not unless you drag it out.’
‘We’re almost positive that the attackers really were ancient Lamorks, and Ambassador Oscagne told us that someone’s been raising antique heroes in Daresia as well. Logic implies that this resurrection business is originating in Tamuli and that its goal is to stir up nationalistic sentiments in order to weaken the central governments – the empire in Daresia and the Church here in Eosia. If we’re right about the source of all of this activity being somewhere in Tamuli, that’s the logical place to start looking for answers. Where are you right now?’
‘Vanion and I are at Sarsos in eastern Astel. You’d better come here, Sparhawk. These long-distance conversations tend to blur things.’
Sparhawk thought for a moment, trying to remember the map of Daresia. ‘We’ll come overland then. I’ll find some way to get the others to agree to that.’
‘Try not to take too long, Sparhawk. It’s really very important that we talk face to face.’
‘Right. Sleep well, little mother.’
‘I wasn’t sleeping.’
‘Oh? What were you doing?’
‘Didn’t you hear what she told you before, Sparhawk?’ his daughter asked him.
‘Which was what?’
‘She told you that it was none of your business what she was doing.’
‘What an astonishingly good idea, your Majesty,’ Oscagne said later that morning when they had all gathered once again in Dolmant’s private audience-chamber. ‘I’d have never thought of it in a million years. The leaders of the subject nations of Tamuli don’t go to Matherion unless they’re summoned by his Imperial Majesty.’
‘The rulers of Eosia are less restrained, your Excellency,’ Emban told him. ‘They have total sovereignty.’
‘Astonishing. Has your Church no authority over their actions, your Grace?’
‘Only in spiritual matters, I’m afraid.’
‘Isn’t that inconvenient?’
‘You wouldn’t believe how much, Ambassador Oscagne,’ Dolmant sighed, looking at Ehlana reproachfully.
‘Be nice, Sarathi,’ she murmured.
