The man who emerged from the house a few moments later was stout and had a florid face. He wore one of the colourful silk robes common in southern Cammoria rather than Arcian doublet and hose, and his welcoming grin was broad. ‘Bevier,’ he greeted his distant cousin with a warm handclasp. ‘What are you doing in Cammoria?’

‘Seeking refuge, Lycien,’ Bevier replied. His open young face clouded momentarily. ‘The family has not treated you well, Lycien,’ he admitted. ‘I could not blame you if you turned me and my friends away.’

‘Nonsense, Bevier. The decision to take up trading was mine. I knew how the rest of the family would feel about it. I’m delighted to see you. You mentioned refuge?’

Bevier nodded. ‘We’re here on Church business of some delicacy,’ he said, ‘and there are a few too many eyes watching the Cyrinic chapterhouse in the city. I know it’s a great deal to ask, but might we impose on your hospitality?’

‘By all means, my boy, by all means.’ Marquis Lycien clapped his hands sharply, and several grooms came out of the stables. ‘See to the mounts of these visitors and their cart,’ the marquis ordered. Then he laid his hand on Bevier’s shoulder. ‘Come in,’ he invited them all. ‘My house is yours.’ He turned and led the way through the low, arched doorway and on into the house. Once they were inside, they followed him to a pleasant room with low, cushioned furniture and a fireplace where several logs crackled and snapped. ‘Please, friends, sit,’ Lycien said. Then he looked speculatively at them. ‘This Church business of yours must be very important, Bevier,’ he guessed. ‘Judging from their features, I’d say that your friends represent all four of the militant orders.’

‘Your eyes are sharp, Marquis,’ Sparhawk told him.

‘Am I going to get in trouble over this?’ Lycien asked. Then he grinned. ‘Not that I care, mind you. It’s just that I like to be prepared.’

‘It’s not too likely,’ Sparhawk assured him. ‘Particularly if we’re successful in our mission. Tell me, my Lord, do you have contacts in the harbour?’

‘Extensive ones, Sir –’

‘Sparhawk,’ the Pandion supplied.

‘Champion of the Queen of Elenia?’ Lycien looked surprised. ‘I heard that you’d returned from your exile in Rendor; but aren’t you a bit far afield? Shouldn’t you be in Cimmura trying to circumvent the attempts of the Primate Annias to depose your lady?’

‘You’re well informed, my Lord,’ Sparhawk said.

‘I have widespread commercial contacts.’ Lycien shrugged. He winked at Bevier. ‘That’s what disgraced me in the eyes of the family My agent and the masters of my ships gather much information in the course of their dealings.’

‘I gather, my Lord, that you’re not overly fond of the Primate of Cimmura?’

‘The man’s a scoundrel.’

‘Our sentiments exactly,’ Kalten agreed.