‘What’s all the shouting about?’ a feeble voice asked.

Sparhawk looked sharply at the golden throne at the front of the chamber. The Archprelate Cluvonus had come awake and was blinking in confusion as he looked around. The old man’s head was wobbling on his stringy neck, and his eyes were bleary

‘A spirited discussion, Most Holy,’ Dolmant said mildly

‘Now you’ve gone and woken me up,’ the Archprelate said petulantly, ‘and I was having such a nice dream.’ He reached up, pulled off his mitre, and threw it on the floor. Then he sank back on his throne, pouting.

‘Would the Archprelate care to hear of the matter under discussion?’ Dolmant asked.

‘No, I wouldn’t,’ Cluvonus snapped. ‘So there.’ Then he cackled as if his infantile outburst had been some enormous joke. The laughter trailed off and he scowled at them. ‘I want to go back to my room,’ he declared. ‘Get out of here, all of you.’

The Hierocracy rose to its feet and began to file out.

‘You too, Dolmant,’ the Archprelate insisted in a shrill voice. ‘And send Sister Clentis to me. She’s the only one who really cares about me.’

‘As you wish, Most Holy,’ Dolmant said, bowing.

When they were outside, Sparhawk walked beside the Patriarch of Demos. ‘How long has he been like this?’ he asked.

Dolmant sighed. ‘For a year now at least,’ he replied. ‘His mind has been failing for quite some time, but it’s only in the past year that his senility has reached this level.’

‘Who is Sister Clentis?’

‘His keeper – his nursemaid, actually.’

‘Is his condition widely known?’

‘There are rumours, of course, but we’ve managed to keep his true state a secret.’ Dolmant sighed again. ‘Don’t judge him by the way he is now, Sparhawk. When he was younger, he honoured the throne of the Archprelacy.’

Sparhawk nodded. ‘I know,’ he agreed. ‘How is his health otherwise?’

‘Not good. He’s very frail. It cannot be much longer.’

‘Perhaps that’s why Annias is beginning to move so quickly.’ Sparhawk shifted his silver-embossed shield. Time’s on his side, you know.’

Dolmant made a sour face. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. That’s what makes your mission so vital.’

Another churchman came up to join them. ‘Well, Dolmant,’ he said, ‘a very interesting morning. Just how deeply was Annias involved in the scheme?’

‘I didn’t say anything about the Primate of Cimmura, Yarris,’ Dolmant protested with mock innocence.

‘You didn’t have to. It all fits together a bit too neatly. I don’t think anybody on the council missed your point.’

‘Do you know the Patriarch of Vardenais, Sparhawk?’ Dolmant asked.

‘We’ve met a few times.’ Sparhawk bowed slightly to the other churchman, his armour creaking. ‘Your Grace,’ he said.

‘It’s good to see you again, Sir Sparhawk,’ Yarris replied. ‘How are things in Cimmura?’

‘Tense,’ Sparhawk said.