The Diamond Throne (42 page)

‘It’s all we’ve got,’ Sparhawk said. ‘We’ve got to follow through on it.’

‘The fastest way to Dabour is by sea along the coast and then up the Gule River,’ the abbot suggested.

‘No,’ Sephrenia said firmly. ‘The creature that’s been trying to kill Sparhawk has probably realized by now that it failed last time. I don’t think we want to be looking over our shoulders for waterspouts every foot of the way.’

‘You’ll have to go to Dabour by way of Jiroch anyway,’ the abbot told them. ‘You can’t go overland. No one crosses the desert between here and Dabour, even at this time of year. It’s totally impassable.’

‘If that’s the way we have to do it, then that’s the way we’ll do it,’ Sparhawk said.

‘Be careful out there,’ the abbot cautioned seriously. ‘The Rendors are in a state of turmoil right now.’

‘They’re always in a state of turmoil, my Lord.’

‘This is a bit different. Arasham’s at Dabour preaching up a new holy war.’

‘He’s been doing that for over twenty years now, hasn’t he? He stirs up the desert people all winter, and then in the summer they go back to their flocks.’

‘That’s what’s different about this time, Sparhawk. Nobody pays much attention to the nomads, but somehow the old lunatic’s beginning to sway the people who live in the cities, and that makes it a little more serious. Arasham’s elated, of course, and he’s holding his desert nomads firmly at Dabour He’s got quite an army.’

‘The city people in Rendor aren’t all
that
stupid. What’s impressing them so much?’

‘I’ve heard that there are some people spreading rumours. They’re telling the townsfolk that there’s a great deal of sympathy for the resurgence of the Eshandist movement in the northern kingdoms.’

‘That’s absurd,’ Sparhawk scoffed.

‘Of course it is, but they’ve managed to persuade a fair number of people here in Cippria that for the first time in
centuries a rebellion against the Church might have some chance of success. Not only that, there have been fairly large shipments of arms filtered into the country.’

A suspicion began to grow in Sparhawk’s mind. ‘Have you any idea who’s been circulating these rumours?’ he asked.

The abbot shrugged. ‘Merchants, travellers from the north, and the like. They’re all foreigners. They usually stay in that quarter near the Elenian consulate.’

‘Isn’t
that
curious?’ Sparhawk mused. ‘I’d been summoned to the Elenian consulate that night when I was attacked in the street. Is Elius still the consul?’

‘Why, yes, as a matter of fact, he is. What are you getting at, Sparhawk?’

‘One more question, my Lord. Have your people by any chance seen a white-haired man going in and out of the consulate?’

‘I couldn’t really say I didn’t tell them to look for that sort of thing. You have someone particular in mind, I gather?’

‘Oh, I do indeed, my Lord Abbot.’ Sparhawk rose and began to pace up and down. ‘Why don’t I have another try at Elene logic, Sephrenia,’ he said. He began to tick items off on his fingers. ‘One: The Primate Annias aspires to the Archprelate’s throne. Two: All four militant orders oppose him, and their opposition could block his ambitions. Three: In order to get that throne, he must discredit or divert the Church Knights. Four: The Elenian consul here in Cippria is his cousin. Five: The consul and Martel have had dealings with each other before I got some personal evidence of that ten years ago.’

‘I didn’t know that Elius was related to the primate,’ the abbot said, looking a bit surprised.

‘They don’t make an issue of it,’ Sparhawk told him.
‘Now then,’ he continued, ‘Annias wants the Church Knights out of Chyrellos when the time comes to elect a new Archprelate What would the Church Knights do if there were an uprising here in Rendor?’

‘We’d descend on the kingdom in full battle array,’ the abbot declared, forgetting that his choice of words clearly confirmed Sparhawk’s suspicions about the nature of his order.

‘And that would effectively remove the militant orders from the debate over the election in Chyrellos, wouldn’t it?’

Sephrenia looked at Sparhawk speculatively ‘What kind of man is this Elius?’

‘He’s a petty time-server with little intelligence and less imagination.’

‘He doesn’t sound very impressive.’

‘He isn’t.’

‘Then someone else would have to be giving him instructions, wouldn’t they?’

‘Precisely’ Sparhawk turned once more to the abbot. ‘My Lord,’ he said, ‘do you have any way to get messages to Preceptor Abriel at your motherhouse in Larium? Messages that can’t be intercepted?’

The abbot gave him a frosty stare

‘We agreed to be frank with each other, my Lord,’ Sparhawk reminded him. ‘I’m not trying to embarrass you, but this is a matter of the greatest urgency.’

‘All right, Sparhawk,’ the abbot replied a bit stiffly. ‘Yes, I can get a message to Lord Abriel.’

‘Good. Sephrenia knows all the details and she can fill you in. Kurik and I have something to attend to.’

‘Just what are you planning?’ the abbot demanded.

‘I’m going to pay a call on Elius. He knows what’s been going on, and I think I can persuade him to share the information. We need confirmation of all this before you send the message to Larium.’

‘It’s too dangerous.’

‘Not as dangerous as having Annias in the Archprelacy, is It?’ Sparhawk considered it. ‘Do you happen to have a secure cell someplace?’ he asked.

‘We have a penitent’s cell down in the cellar. The door can be locked, I suppose.’

‘Good. I think we’ll bring Elius back here to question him. Then you can lock him up. I can’t let him go, once he knows I’m here, and Sephrenia disapproves of random murders. If he just disappears, there’ll be some un-certainty about what happened to him.’

‘Won’t he make an outcry when you take him captive?’

‘Not very likely, my Lord,’ Kurik assured him, drawing his heavy dagger. He slapped the hilt solidly against his palm. ‘I can practically guarantee that he’ll be asleep.’

The streets were quiet. The overcast which had obscured the sky that afternoon had cleared, and the stars were very bright overhead.

‘No moon,’ Kurik said quietly as he and Sparhawk crept through the deserted streets. ‘That’s a help.’

‘It’s been rising late the past three nights,’ Sparhawk said.

‘How late?’

‘We’ve got a couple more hours.’

‘Can we make it back to the monastery by then?’

‘We have to.’ Sparhawk stopped just before they reached an intersection and peered around the corner of a house. A man wearing a short cape and carrying a spear and a small lantern was shuffling sleepily along the street. ‘Watchman,’ Sparhawk breathed, and he and Kurik stepped into the shadows of a deeply recessed doorway

The watchman plodded on past, the lantern swinging
from his hand casting looming shadows against the walls of the buildings.

‘He should be more alert,’ Kurik growled disapprovingly.

‘Under the circumstances your sense of what’s proper might be a little misplaced.’

‘Right is right, Sparhawk,’ Kurik replied stubbornly. After the watchman was out of sight, they crept on up the street.

‘Are we just going to walk up to the gate of the consulate?’ Kurik asked.

‘No. When we get close to it, we’ll go in over the roof tops.’

‘I’m not a cat, Sparhawk. Leaping from roof to roof isn’t my idea of entertainment.’

‘The houses are all built up against each other in that part of town. The roof tops are just like a highway.’

‘Oh,’ Kurik grunted. ‘That’s different then.’

The consulate of the Kingdom of Elenia was a fairly large building surrounded by a high, white-mortared wall. There were torches set on long poles at each corner, and a narrow lane running alongside the wall.

‘Does that lane run all the way around it?’ Kurik asked.

‘It did the last time I was here.’

There’s a significant hole in your plan then, Sparhawk. I can’t jump all the way from one of these roof tops to the top of that wall.’

‘I don’t think I could either.’ Sparhawk frowned. ‘Let’s go around and look at the other side.’

They crept through a series of narrow streets and alleys that wound along the back sides of the houses facing the consulate wall. A dog came out and barked at them until Kurik shied a rock at him. The dog yelped and ran off on three legs.

‘Now I know how a burglar feels,’ Kurik muttered.

‘There,’ Sparhawk said. There where?’

‘Right over there. Some helpful fellow is doing some repairs on his roof. See that pile of beams stacked up against the side of that wall? Let’s go see how long they are.’

They crossed the alley to the stack of building material. Kurik studiously measured the beams off with his feet. ‘Marginal,’ he observed.

‘We’ll never know until we try,’ Sparhawk told him.

‘All right. How do we get up to the roof?’

‘We’ll lean the beams against the wall. If we slant them up right, we should be able to scramble up and then pull them after us.’

‘I’m glad you don’t have to construct your own siege engines, Sparhawk,’ Kurik observed sourly ‘All right. Let’s try it.’

They leaned several beams against the wall, and Kurik, grunting and sweating, hauled himself up to the roof. ‘All right,’ he whispered down over the edge. ‘come on up.’

Sparhawk climbed up the beam, picking up a large splinter in his hand in the process. Then he and Kurik laboriously hauled the beams up after them and carried them one by one across the roof to the side facing the consulate wall. The flickering torches atop the wall cast a faint glow across the roof tops. As they were carrying the last beam, Kurik stopped suddenly. ‘Sparhawk,’ he called softly

‘What?’

‘Two roofs over. There’s a woman lying there.’

‘How do you know it’s a woman?’

‘Because she’s stark naked, that’s how’

‘Oh,’ Sparhawk said, ‘that. It’s a Rendorish custom. She’s waiting for the moon to rise. They have a
superstition here that the first rays of the moon on a woman’s belly increase her fertility.’ ‘Won’t she see us?’

‘She won’t say anything if she does. She’s too busy waiting for the moon. Press on, Kurik. Don’t stand there gawking at her.’

They struggled manfully to push a beam out over the narrow lane, a task made more difficult by the fact that their leverage diminished as they shoved the beam out farther and farther. Finally the stubborn beam clunked down on top of the consulate wall. They slid several more beams across along its top, then rolled them to one side to form a narrow bridge. As they were shoving the last one across, Kurik suddenly stopped with a muttered oath.

‘What’s wrong?’ Sparhawk asked him.

‘How did we get up on this roof, Sparhawk?’ Kurik asked acidly.

‘We climbed up a slanted beam.’

‘Where did we want to go?’

‘To the top of the wall of the consulate over there.’

‘Then why are we building bridges?’

‘Because –’ Sparhawk stopped, feeling suddenly very foolish. ‘We could have just leaned a beam against the wall of the consulate, couldn’t we?’

‘Congratulations, my Lord,’ Kurik said sarcastically.

‘The bridge was such a perfect solution to the problem,’ Sparhawk said defensively.

‘But totally unnecessary.’

That doesn’t really invalidate the solution, does it?’ ‘Of course not.’

‘Why don’t we just go on across?’ ‘You go ahead. I think I’ll go talk with the naked lady for a while.’

‘Never mind, Kurik. She has her mind on other things.’

‘I’m sort of an expert on fertility, if that’s what’s really bothering her.’ ‘Let’s go, Kurik.’

They crossed their makeshift bridge to the top of the consulate wall and crept along it until they reached a place where the branches of a well-watered fig tree reached up out of the shadows below. They climbed down the tree and stood for a moment or two beside it while Sparhawk got his bearings.

‘You wouldn’t happen to know where the consul’s bedchamber is, would you?’ Kurik whispered.

‘No,’ Sparhawk replied softly, ‘but I can guess. It’s the Elenian consulate, and all official Elenian buildings are more or less the same. The private quarters will be upstairs at the back.’

‘Very good, Sparhawk,’ Kurik said dryly. ‘That narrows things down considerably. Now we only have to search about a quarter of the building.’

They crept through a shadowy garden and entered by way of an unlocked back door. They passed through a darkened kitchen and into the dimly lit central hall. Kurik suddenly jerked Sparhawk back into the kitchen.

‘What ‘ Sparhawk started to object in a hoarse whisper.

‘Shhh!’

Out in the hall there was the bobbing glow of a candle. A matronly woman, a housekeeper or perhaps a cook, walked towards the kitchen door. Sparhawk shrank back as she stood framed in the doorway. Then she took hold of the handle and firmly closed the door.

‘How did you know she was coming?’ Sparhawk whispered.

‘I don’t know,’ Kurik whispered back. ‘I just did.’ He put his ear to the door. ‘She’s moving on,’ he reported softly.

‘What’s she doing up at this time of the night?’

‘Who knows? Maybe she’s just making sure all the doors are locked. Aslade does that every night.’ He listened again. ‘There,’ he said, ‘she just closed another door, and I can’t hear her out there any more. I think she went to bed.’

‘The staircase should be just opposite the main entry-way, ’ Sparhawk whispered. ‘Let’s get upstairs before somebody else comes wandering by.’

They darted out into the hallway and up a broad flight of stairs to the upper floor.

‘Look for an ornate door,’ Sparhawk whispered. The consul’s the master of the house, so he’s likely to have the most luxurious room. You go that way, and I’ll go this.’

They separated and went in opposite directions on tiptoe. At the end of the hallway, Sparhawk found an elaborately carved door decorated with gilt paint. He opened it carefully and looked inside. By the light of a single dimly glowing oil lamp he saw a stout, florid-faced man of fifty or so lying on his back in the bed. The man was snoring loudly. Sparhawk recognized him. He softly closed the door and went looking for Kurik. His squire met him at the head of the stairs.