Makova had glanced at the note. ‘We always welcome the words of the learned Primate of Demos,’ he declaimed loftily, ‘but please be brief, Your Grace. We have important business to attend to here.’ He stepped away from the lectern.
‘Of course, Makova,’ Dolmant replied, stepping to the vacated place. ‘Briefly then,’ he began, ‘as a result of the full recovery of Queen Ehlana, the political situation in the kingdom of Elenia has radically changed, and –’
Cries of astonishment echoed through the hall, and there was a confused babble of voices. Sparhawk, still leaning on the back of Annias’s seat, was pleased to see the Primate’s face grow totally white as he half-started to his feet. ‘Impossible!’ the Churchman gaped.
‘Amazing, isn’t it, Annias?’ Sparhawk said, ‘and so totally unexpected. I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that the queen sends you her very best wishes.’
‘Explain yourself, Dolmant!’ Makova half-shouted.
‘I was only trying to be brief – as you requested, Makova. No more than a week ago, Queen Ehlana recovered from her mysterious ailment. Many look upon that as miraculous. Upon her recovery, certain facts came to light, and the former Prince Regent – and his mother, I understand – are currently under arrest on the charge of high treason.’
Annias fell back in his seat in a near-faint.
‘The revered and respected Earl of Lenda now presides over the royal council, and warrants for a number of co-conspirators in the foul plot against the queen have been issued over his seal. The Queen’s Champion is presently searching out these miscreants and will doubtless bring them all before the bar of justice – either human or divine.’
‘The Baron Harparin was next in line to preside over the Elenian royal council,’ Makova protested.
‘The Baron Harparin is presently standing before the bar of the Highest Justice, Makova,’ Dolmant said in a deadly tone. ‘He faces the Ultimate Judge. There is, I fear, scant hope for his acquittal – though we may pray that it be otherwise.’
‘What happened to him?’ Makova gasped.
‘I’m told that he was accidentally beheaded during the changeover of administrations in Cimmura. Regrettable, perhaps, but that sort of thing happens now and then.’
‘Harparin?’ Annias gasped in dismay.
‘He made the mistake of offending Preceptor Vanion,’ Sparhawk murmured in his ear, ‘and you know how short-tempered Vanion can be at times. He was very sorry afterwards, of course, but by then Harparin was lying in two separate places. He absolutely destroyed the carpeting in the council chamber – all that blood, you know.’
‘Who else are you chasing, Sparhawk?’ Annias demanded.
‘I don’t have the list with me at the moment, Annias, but there are a number of prominent names on it – names I’m sure you’d recognize.’
There was a stir at the door, and two frightened-looking Patriarchs crept into the hall and then scurried to places on the red-cushioned benches. Kalten stood grinning at the door for a moment, then left again.
‘Well?’ Sparhawk whispered to Talen.
‘Those two bring the total up to one hundred and nineteen,’ Talen whispered back. ‘We’ve got forty-five, and Annias still has sixty-five. He needs seventy-two now instead of seventy-one. We’re getting closer, Sparhawk.’
It took the secretary of the Primate of Cimmura some while longer to complete his computations. Annias scribbled a one-word note to Makova. Sparhawk, watching over the Primate’s shoulder read the single word, ‘vote’.
The issue Makova put to the vote was a pure absurdity. Everyone knew that. The only question the vote was designed to answer was upon which side the nine neutral Patriarchs clustered in a now-frightened group near the door would come down. After the tally, Makova announced the results in a tone of dismay. The nine had voted in a block against the Primate of Cimmura.
The huge door opened again, and three black-robed monks entered. Their cowls were raised, and their pace was ritualistically slow. When they reached the dais, one of their number removed a folded black cover from beneath his robe, and the three solemnly spread it over the throne to announce that the Archprelate Cluvonus had finally died.
Chapter 9
‘How long will the city be in mourning?’ Tynian asked Dolmant that afternoon when they had gathered once again in the Patriarch’s study.
‘A week,’ Dolmant replied. ‘The funeral takes place then.’
‘And nothing happens during that period?’ the blue-cloaked Alcione Knight asked. ‘No sessions of the Hierocracy or anything?’
Dolmant shook his head. ‘No. We’re supposed to spend the period in prayer and meditation.’
‘It’s a breathing-space,’ Vanion said, ‘and it should give Wargun time to get here.’ He frowned. ‘We still have a problem, though. Annias doesn’t have any more money, and that means that his hold on his majority grows shakier every day. He’s probably growing desperate by now, and desperate men do rash things.’
‘He’s right,’ Komier agreed. ‘I expect Annias will take to the streets at this point. He’ll hold his own votes by terror, and try to reduce the number voting by eliminating Patriarchs loyal to us until he gets the number down to the point where he has a substantive majority. I think it’s time to fort up, gentlemen. We’d better get our friends all together behind some good stout walls where we can protect them.’
‘I’ll certainly agree,’ Abriel concurred. ‘Our position is vulnerable at this moment.’
‘Which of your chapterhouses is closest to the Basilica?’ Patriarch Emban asked them. ‘Our friends are going to have to file back and forth through the streets to participate in deliberations. Let’s not expose them to any more danger than we have to.’
‘Our house is closest,’ Vanion told him, ‘and it has its own well. After what happened this morning, I don’t want to give Annias access to our drinking water.’
‘Supplies?’ Darellon asked.
‘We keep enough on hand to withstand a six-month siege,’ Vanion replied. ‘Soldiers’ rations, I’m afraid, Your Grace,’ he apologized to the corpulent Emban.
Emban sighed. ‘Oh, well,’ he said, ‘I’ve been meaning to lose some weight anyway.’
‘It’s a good plan,’ the white-cloaked Preceptor Abriel said, ‘but it does have a drawback. If we’re all in one chapterhouse, the church soldiers can surround us. We’ll be penned up inside with no way to get to the Basilica at all.’