He laughed and slapped at his paunch. ‘Every man needs a vice or two,’ he said. ‘Come inside, all of you. I’ve smuggled a skin of Arcian red into the house for my stomach’s sake, of course – and we can all have a goblet or two.’

‘You see how it works, Sparhawk?’ Kalten said. ‘Rules can be bent if you know the right people.’

Nashan’s study was draped and carpeted in red, and the ornate table which served as his desk was inlaid with gold and mother of pearl. ‘A gesture,’ he said apologetically as he led them into the room and looked about. ‘In Chyrellos, we must make these little genuflections in the direction of opulence if we are to be taken seriously.’

‘It’s all right, Nashan,’ Sephrenia told him. ‘You weren’t selected as governor of this chapterhouse because of your humility.’

‘One must keep up appearances, Sephrenia,’ he said. He sighed. ‘I was never that good a knight,’ he admitted. ‘I’m at best only mediocre with the lance, and most of my spells tend to crumble on me about halfway through.’ He drew in a deep breath and looked around. ‘I’m a good administrator, though. I know the Church and her politics, and I can serve the order and Lord Vanion in that arena probably far better than I could on the field.’

‘We all do what we can,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘I’m told that God appreciates our best efforts.’

‘Sometimes I feel that I’ve disappointed Him,’ Nashan said. ‘Somewhere deep inside me I think I might have done better’

‘Don’t flagellate yourself, Nashan,’ Sephrenia advised. ‘The Elene God is reputed to be most forgiving. You’ve done what you could.’

They took seats around Nashan’s ornate table, and the governor summoned an acolyte who brought goblets and the skin of the deep Arcian wine At Sephrenia’s request, he also sent for tea for her and milk for Flute and Talen.

‘We don’t necessarily need to mention this to Lord Vanion, do we?’ Nashan said to Sparhawk as he lifted the wineskin.

‘Wild horses couldn’t drag it out of me, my Lord,’ Sparhawk told him, holding out his goblet.

‘So,’ Kalten said, ‘what’s happening here in Chyrellos?’

‘Troubled times, Kalten,’ Nashan replied. ‘Troubled times. The Archprelate ages, and the entire city is holding its breath in anticipation of his death.’

‘Who will be the new Archprelate?’ Sparhawk asked.

‘At the moment there’s no way to know. Cluvonus is in no condition to name a successor, and Annias of Cimmura is spending money like water to gain the throne.’

‘What about Dolmant?’ Kalten asked.

‘He’s too self-effacing, I’m afraid,’ Nashan replied. ‘He’s so dedicated to the Church that he doesn’t have the sense of self that one needs to have to aspire to the golden throne in the Basilica. Not only that, he’s made enemies.’