David Eddings - The Complete Elenium Trilogy - The Diamond Throne, The Ruby Knight, The Sapphire Rose

After Dolmant and Sparhawk had given their depositions concerning the statements of Princess Arissa, they left the Patriarch of Vardenais and continued along the corridor to the nave of the Basilica.

‘Dolmant,’ Sparhawk said, ‘do you have any idea about why so many Styrics are here in Chyrellos?’

‘I’ve heard about it. The story is that they’re seeking instruction in our faith.’

‘Sephrenia says that’s an absurdity.’

Dolmant made a wry face. ‘She’s probably right. I’ve laboured for a lifetime and I haven’t as yet managed to convert a single Styric.’

‘They’re very attached to their Gods,’ Sparhawk said. ‘I’m not trying to be offensive, Dolmant, but there seems to be a very close personal relationship between the Styrics and their Gods. Our God is perhaps a bit remote.’

‘I’ll mention that the next time I talk to Him.’ Dolmant smiled. ‘I’m sure He values your opinion.’

Sparhawk laughed. ‘It was a bit presumptuous, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact it was. How long do you think it’s going to be until you can leave for Borrata?’

‘Several days, anyway. I hate to lose the time, but the knights from the other orders have long journeys to make to reach Chyrellos, and I’m more or less obliged to wait for them. All this waiting is making me very impatient, but there’s no help for it, I’m afraid.’ He pursed his lips. ‘I think I’ll spend the time nosing around a bit. It’ll give me something to do, and all these Styrics are making me curious.’

‘Be careful in the streets of Chyrellos, Sparhawk,’ Dolmant advised seriously. ‘They can be very dangerous.’

‘The whole world is dangerous lately, Dolmant. I’ll keep you posted on what I find out.’ Then Sparhawk turned and went down the corridor with his spurs clinking on the marble floor.

It was nearly noon when Sparhawk returned to the chapterhouse. He had ridden slowly through the busy streets of the holy city, paying scant attention to the crowds around him. The deterioration of the Archprelate Cluvonus had saddened him. Despite the rumours that had been circulating of late, actually to see the revered old man’s condition had come as a profound personal shock.

He stopped at the heavy gate and perfunctorily went through the ritual that admitted him. Kalten was waiting in the courtyard. ‘Well?’ the blond man asked. ‘How did it go?’

Sparhawk dismounted heavily and pulled off his helmet. ‘I don’t know if we changed any minds,’ he replied. ‘The Patriarchs who support Annias still support him; the ones who oppose him are still on our side; and those who are neutral are still on the fence.’

‘It was a waste of time, then?’

‘Not entirely, I guess. After this, it might be a little harder for Annias to win over any more uncommitted votes.’

‘I wish you’d make up your mind, Sparhawk.’ Kalten looked closely at his friend. ‘You’re in a sour mood. What really happened?’

‘Cluvonus was there.’

‘That’s a surprise. How did he look?’

‘Awful.’

‘He is eighty-five, Sparhawk. You couldn’t expect him to look very impressive. People wear out, you know.’

‘His mind has gone, Kalten,’ Sparhawk said sadly. ‘He’s childish now. Dolmant doesn’t think he’s going to last much longer.’

‘That bad?’

Sparhawk nodded.

‘That makes it fairly important for us to get to Borrata and back in a hurry then, doesn’t it?’

‘Urgent,’ Sparhawk agreed.

‘Do you think we should ride on ahead and let the knights from the other orders catch up with us later?’

‘I wish we could. I hate the idea of Ehlana sitting alone in that throne room, but I don’t think we dare. Komier was right about a show of unity, and the other orders are sometimes a little touchy. Let’s not start off by offending them.’

‘Did you and Dolmant talk to somebody about Arissa?’

Sparhawk nodded. The Patriarch of Vardenais is handling it.’

‘The day wasn’t an absolute waste, then.’

Sparhawk grunted. ‘I want to change out of this.’ He rapped on the breastplate of his armour with his knuckles.

‘You want me to unsaddle Faran for you?’

‘No. I’ll be going back out. Where’s Sephrenia?’

‘In her room, I think.’

‘Have somebody saddle her horse.’

‘Is she going somewhere?’

‘Probably.’ Sparhawk went on up the stairs and entered the chapterhouse.

It was about a quarter of an hour later when he tapped on Sephrenia’s door. He had removed his armour and now wore a mail coat beneath a nondescript grey cloak that bore no insignia of his rank or his order. ‘It’s me, Sephrenia,’ he said through the panels of the door.

‘Come in, Sparhawk,’ she said.

He opened the door and stepped in quietly.

She was sitting in a large chair with Flute in her lap. The child was sleeping with a contented little smile on her face. ‘Did things go well at the Basilica?’ Sephrenia asked.

‘It’s a little hard to say,’ he replied. ‘Churchmen are very good at hiding their emotions. Did you and Kalten find out anything about all the Styrics here in Chyrellos yesterday?’

She nodded. ‘They’re concentrated in the quarter near the east gate. They have a house there somewhere that seems to be a headquarters of some sort. We weren’t able to locate it exactly, though.’

‘Why don’t we go see if we can find it?’ he suggested. ‘I need something to do. I’m feeling a bit restless.’

‘Restless? You, Sparhawk? The man of stone?’

‘Impatience, I suppose. I want to get started for Borrata.’

She nodded. Then she rose, lifting Flute easily, and laid the child on the bed. Gently she covered the little girl with a grey woollen blanket. Flute briefly opened her dark eyes, then smiled and went back to sleep. Sephrenia kissed the small face, then turned to Sparhawk. ‘Shall we go then?’ she said.

‘You’re very fond of her, aren’t you?’ Sparhawk asked as the two of them walked along the corridor leading towards the courtyard.

‘It goes a bit deeper than that. Someday perhaps you’ll understand.’

‘Have you any idea where this Styric house might be?’

‘There’s a shopkeeper in the market near the east gate. He sold some Styrics a number of sides of meat. The porter who delivered them knows where the house is.’

‘Why didn’t you question the porter?’

‘He wasn’t there yesterday.’

‘Maybe he’ll make it to work today.’

‘It’s worth a try.’

He stopped and gave her a direct look. ‘I’m not trying to pry into the secrets you’ve chosen not to reveal, Sephrenia, but could you distinguish between ordinary rural Styrics and Zemochs?’

‘It’s possible,’ she admitted, ‘unless they’re taking steps to conceal their true identity.’

They went on down into the courtyard where Kalten waited with Faran and Sephrenia’s white palfrey. The blond knight had an angry expression on his face. ‘Your horse bit me, Sparhawk,’ he said accusingly.

‘You know him well enough not to turn your back on him. Did he draw blood?’

‘No,’ Kalten admitted.

‘Then he was only being playful. It shows that he likes you.’

‘Thanks,’ Kalten said flatly. ‘Do you want me to come along?’

‘No. I think we want to be more or less inconspicuous, and on occasion you have trouble managing that.’

‘Sometimes your charm overwhelms me, Sparhawk.’

‘We’re sworn to speak the truth.’ Sparhawk helped Sephrenia into her saddle, then mounted Faran. ‘We should be back before dark,’ he told his friend.

‘Don’t hurry on my account.’