‘This is the first time they’ve ever been addressed by a queen, Sparhawk,’ she said tartly.
‘There have been queens before.’
‘Yes, but none of them sat on a throne during an election. I looked it up. This is going to be an historic first, and I don’t want to make a fool of myself.’
‘You don’t want to faint either,’ Mirtai said, pointedly pushing the queen’s plate back in front of her. Mirtai, Sparhawk noticed, had the soul of a bully.
There was a light rap at the door, and Talen entered, grinning impishly. He bowed to Ehlana. ‘I just came by to tell you that King Soros won’t be addressing the Hierocracy this afternoon,’ he told Sparhawk, ‘so you won’t have to worry about being exposed as a scoundrel.’
‘Oh?’
‘His Majesty must have taken a chill, and it settled in his throat. He can’t speak above a whisper.’
Ehlana frowned. ‘How strange. It hasn’t really been that cold lately. I don’t want to wish the King of Pelosia any bad luck, but isn’t this a lucky sort of thing to have happen just now?’
‘Luck had very little to do with it, Your Majesty,’ Talen grinned. ‘Sephrenia almost dislocated her jaw and very nearly braided her fingers putting the spell together. Excuse me. I’m supposed to go and tell Dolmant and Emban. Then I have to report it to Wargun so that he doesn’t bash in Soros’s head to keep him quiet.’
After they had finished with their lunch, Sparhawk escorted the two ladies back to the audience chamber. ‘Sparhawk?’ Ehlana said just before they entered, ‘do you like Dolmant, the Patriarch of Demos?’
‘Very much,’ he replied. ‘He’s one of my oldest friends – and that’s not just because he used to be a Pandion.’
‘I like him too,’ she smiled. She said it as if something had just been settled.
Dolmant reconvened the Hierocracy and then asked each of the kings to address the assembled Patriarchs. As Sparhawk had suggested to Ehlana earlier, each monarch rose, thanked the Hierocracy for being permitted to be present, made a few references to Annias, Otha and Azash and then invoked the blessing of God upon the deliberations.
‘And now, brothers and friends,’ Dolmant said, ‘we have a rare occasion here today. For the first time in history, a queen will address us.’ He smiled ever so faintly. ‘I would not for the world offend the mighty kings of western Eosia, but I must in all candour say that Ehlana, Queen of Elenia, is far lovelier than they are, and I think we may be surprised to discover that she’s as wise as she is beautiful.’
Ehlana blushed charmingly. For the remainder of his life, Sparhawk was never able to discover how she could blush at will. She even tried to explain it to him a few times, but it was quite beyond his understanding.
The Queen of Elenia rose and stood with her face downcast for a moment as if in some confusion at Dolmant’s prettily turned compliment. ‘I thank you, Your Grace,’ she said in a clear, ringing voice as she raised her head. All traces of the blush were now gone, and Ehlana had a very determined expression on her face.
Sparhawk’s heart gave a sudden suspicious lurch. ‘Get hold of something solid, gentlemen,’ he warned his friends. ‘I know that look on her face. I think she has a few surprises in store for us here.’
‘I too must express my gratitude to the Hierocracy for allowing me to be present,’ Ehlana began, ‘and I will add my prayers to those of my brother monarchs, asking God to grant these nobles of the Church wisdom in their deliberations. Since I am the first woman to ever address the Hierocracy in such circumstances, however, might I ask that indulgence of the assembled Patriarchs that I might address a few additional remarks to them? If my words seem frivolous, I’m sure the learned Patriarchs will forgive me. I am but a woman and not very old. And we all know that young women are sometimes silly when they become excited.’ She paused.
‘Excited, did I say?’ she continued, her voice like a silver trumpet. ‘Nay, gentlemen, say instead that I am enraged! This monster, this cold bloodless beast, this – this Annias murdered my beloved father. He struck down the wisest and gentlest monarch in all Eosia!’
‘Aldreas?’ Kalten whispered in disbelief.
‘And then,’ Ehlana continued in that ringing voice, ‘not content with breaking my heart, this ravening savage sought my life as well! Our Church is tainted now, gentlemen, besmirched because this villain ever professed holy orders. I would come here as a suppliant, a petitioner, to demand justice, but I will wring my own justice from the body of the man who murdered my father. I am but a weak woman, but I have a champion, gentlemen, a man who at my command will seek out and find this monstrous Annias even though the beast seeks to hide himself in the very bowels of Hell itself. Annias will face me. I swear this to you all, and generations yet unborn shall tremble at the memory of his fate. Our holy mother Church need not concern herself with dispensing justice to this wretch. The Church is gentle, compassionate, but I, gentlemen, am not.’ So much for his queen’s apparent submission to the dictates of the Church, Sparhawk thought.
Ehlana had paused again, her young face lifted in vengeful resolve. ‘But what of this prize?’ she asked, turning to look pointedly at the shrouded throne. ‘Upon whom will you bestow this chair for which Annias was willing to drown the world in blood? To whom shall this piece of ornate furniture descend? For mistake me not, friends, that’s all it is, a piece of furniture, heavy, ungainly and, I’m sure, not very comfortable. Whom will you sentence to bear the awful burdens of care and responsibility which go with this chair and which he will be forced to carry in this darkest hour of our holy mother’s life? He must be wise, of course, that goes without saying, but all of the Patriarchs of the Church are wise. He must also be courageous, but are you not all as brave as lions? He must be shrewd, and make no mistake, there is a vast difference between wisdom and shrewdness. He must be clever, for he faces the master of deceit – not Annias, though Annias is deceitful enough; not Otha, sunk in his own foul debauchery; but Azash himself. Which of you will match strength and cunning and will with that spawn of Hell?’
‘What is she doing?’ Bevier whispered in a stunned voice.
‘Isn’t it obvious, Sir Knight?’ Stragen murmured urbanely. ‘She’s selecting a new Archprelate.’
‘That’s absurd!’ Bevier gasped. ‘The Hierocracy chooses the Archprelate!’