Sephrenia sighed. ‘The secrets of Styricum are myriad,’ she replied. ‘Some are fairly simple – common spells and incantations. Martel mastered those very quickly. Beyond commonplace magic, however, lies a deeper and far more dangerous realm. Those of us who instruct the Knights of the Church in the secrets do not introduce our pupils to that level of magic. It serves no practical purpose and it involves things that imperil the souls of Elenes.’

Komier laughed. ‘Many things imperil the souls of Elenes, my Lady,’ he said. ‘I felt a certain wrench in mine the first time I contacted the Troll-Gods. I gather that this Martel of yours dabbled in things he should not have?’

Sephrenia sighed again. ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘He came to me asking that I instruct him in the forbidden secrets. He was very intense about it. That’s one of Martel’s characteristics. I refused him, of course, but there are renegade Styrics, even as there are renegade Pandions. Martel came from a wealthy family, so he could afford to pay for the instruction he wanted.’

‘Who found him out?’ Darellon asked.

‘I did,’ Sparhawk said. ‘I was riding from Cimmura to Demos. That was shortly before King Aldreas sent me into exile. There’s a patch of woods three leagues this side of Demos. It was just about dusk when I passed those woods, and I saw a strange light back among the trees. I went to investigate and saw Martel. He’d raised some kind of glowing creature. Its light was very bright – so bright that I couldn’t make out its face.’

‘I don’t think you’d have wanted to see its face, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia told him.

‘Perhaps not,’ he agreed. ‘Anyway, Martel was speaking to the creature in Styric, commanding it to do his bidding.’

‘That doesn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary,’ Komier said. ‘We’ve all raised spirits or ghosts of one kind or another from time to time.’

‘This was not precisely a spirit, Lord Komier,’ Sephrenia told him. ‘It was a Damork. The Elder Gods of Styricum created them to serve as slaves to their will. The Damorks have extraordinary powers, but they are soulless. A God can summon them from that unimaginable place where they dwell and control them. For a mortal to attempt that, however, is sheer folly. No mortal can control a Damork. What Martel had done is absolutely forbidden by all of the Younger Gods.’

‘And the Elder Gods?’ Darellon asked.

‘The Elder Gods have no rules, my Lord – only whims and desires.’

‘Sephrenia,’ Dolmant pointed out, ‘Martel is an Elene. Perhaps he felt no obligations to observe the prohibitions of the Gods of Styricum.’

‘So long as one is practising the arts of Styricum, one is subject to the Styric Gods, Dolmant,’ she replied.