‘Thought I had, old boy, but somehow someone got through to him.’
‘His army’s even bigger than yours?’
Martel sank wearily into his chair. ‘God, I’m tired,’ he confessed. ‘I haven’t slept for two days. You were saying?’
‘Has Wargun got more men than you have?’
‘Lord yes. He could chew me up in the space of a few hours. I really don’t think we ought to wait for him. All I have to worry about is how long it’s going to take Sparhawk to kill me. In spite of that face of his, Sparhawk’s a gentle person. I’m sure he’d make quick work of me. I’m really disappointed in Perraine. I thought he might be able to do something permanent about my former brother. Oh, well. Ydra pays the penalty for his failure, I suppose. As I was saying, Sparhawk should be able to do for me in well under a minute. He’s a much better swordsman than I am. You, however, have much more to be concerned about. Lycheas tells me that Ehlana wants your head on a plate. I once caught a glimpse of her face in Cimmura just after her father died and before you poisoned her. Sparhawk’s gentle, but Ehlana’s made of stone, and she hates you, Annias. She might very well decide to take your head off all by herself. She’s a slender girl, and it might take her half a day to hack through your neck.’
‘But we’re so close,’ Annias protested in anguished frustration. ‘The Archprelate’s throne is almost within my grasp.’
‘You’d better ungrasp it then. It might be very heavy to carry when you’re running for your life. Arissa and Lycheas are in my pavilion packing a few things already, but you’re not going to have that kind of time, I’m afraid. You’ll be leaving from here – with me. Get one thing very clear, Annias. I won’t wait for you – not ever. If you start to fall behind, I’ll leave you.’
‘There are things I have to have, Martel.’
‘I’m sure there are. I can think of a few offhand myself – your head for one – and Lycheas says that the blond ape who runs with Sparhawk has developed an unwholesome passion for hanging people. I know Kalten well enough to realize how clumsy he is. He’s almost certain to botch the job, and being the guest of honour at a botched hanging isn’t my idea of a pleasant way to pass an afternoon.’
‘How many men did you bring here into this cellar?’ Annias’s voice was fearful.
‘About a hundred, that’s all.’
‘Are you mad? We’re right in the middle of an encampment of Church Knights!’
‘Your cowardice is starting to show, Annias.’ Martel’s voice was thick with contempt. ‘That aqueduct isn’t very wide. Would you really want to have to clamber over the top of a thousand well-armed mercenaries when the time comes to start running?’
‘Run? Where can we run to? Where can we possibly go?’
‘Where else? We go to Zemoch. Otha will protect us.’
Colonel Delada drew in his breath with a sharp hiss.
‘Be still, man,’ Sparhawk muttered.
Martel rose to his feet and began to pace up and down, his face ruddy in the candlelight. ‘Try to follow me on this, Annias,’ he said. ‘You gave Ehlana darestim, and darestim’s always fatal. There’s no cure, and ordinary magic could not have reversed the effects. I know that because I was trained in magic by Sephrenia myself.’
‘That Styric witch!’ Annias said from between clenched teeth.
Martel seized him by the front of his robe and half-lifted him from his chair. ‘Be very careful what you say, Annias,’ Martel said from between his teeth. ‘Don’t insult my little mother, or you’ll wish that it was Sparhawk who caught you. As I said, he’s basically a gentle sort of person. I’m not. I can do things to you Sparhawk would never dream of.’
‘Surely you don’t still have any feeling for her.’
‘That’s my business, Annias. All right then. If only magic could have cured the queen and ordinary magic wouldn’t have worked, what does that leave us?’
‘Bhelliom?’ Annias guessed, rubbing his hand over the wrinkles Martel’s fist had gathered up in the front of his robe.
‘Precisely. Sparhawk’s somehow managed to get his hands on it. He used it to cure Ehlana, and more than likely he’s still got it with him. It’s not the sort of thing you leave lying around. I’ll send the Rendors out to knock down the bridges over the Arruk. That should delay Wargun for a while and give you and me more time to run. We’d better go north for a little way and get out of the main battle zone before we turn east towards Zemoch.’ He grinned mirthlessly. ‘Wargun’s always wanted to exterminate the Rendors anyway. If I send them out to destroy the bridges, he’ll get his chance, and God knows I won’t miss them all that much. I’ll order the rest of my troops to make a stand against Wargun on the east bank of the river. They’ll engage him in a splendid battle – which might even last for a couple of hours before he butchers the lot of them. That’s about all the time you and I and our friends are going to have to get clear of this place. We can count on Sparhawk to be right behind us, and we can be absolutely sure that he’ll have Bhelliom with him.’
’How do we know that? You’re guessing, Martel.’
’Do you mean to say that you’ve been around Sparhawk for all these years and haven’t got to know him yet? I’m not trying to be insulting, old boy, but you’re an absolute idiot, do you know that? Otha’s massed in eastern Lamorkand, and he’ll be marching into western Eosia within a matter of days. He’ll slaughter everything in sight – men, women, children, cattle, dogs, wild animals and even fish. Preventing that is the primary duty of the Church Knights, and Sparhawk’s what they had in mind when they founded the four orders. He’s all duty and honour and implacable resolve. I’d give my soul to be a man like Sparhawk. He’s got the one thing in his possession that will absolutely stop Otha cold. Do you really think there’s anything in the world that would prevent him from bringing Bhelliom with him? Use your head, Annias.’
‘What good’s it going to do us to run if we know that Sparhawk’s right behind us with Bhelliom in his hands? He’ll obliterate Otha and us along with him.’
‘Not very likely. Sparhawk’s moderately stupendous, but he’s not a God. Azash, however, is, and Azash has wanted Bhelliom since before the beginning of time. Sparhawk will chase us, and Azash will be waiting for him. Azash will destroy him in order to take Bhelliom from him. Then Otha will invade. Since we’ll have done such a tremendous service for him, he’ll reward us – lavishly. He’ll put you on the Archprelate’s throne and give me the crown of any Elenian kingdom I choose – perhaps even all of them. Otha’s lost his hunger for power in the last thousand years or so. I’ll even set Lycheas up as Regent – or even King – of Elenia, if you want – although I can’t for the life of me think of any reason you’d want that. Your son’s a snivelling cretin, and the sight of him turns my stomach. Why don’t you have him strangled, and then you and Arissa can try again? If you both concentrate, you might even be able to produce a real human being instead of an eel.’