The bluff man glanced at it. ‘You know this first one already, Sparhawk,’ he said. ‘He’s the one who treated you the last time you were here.’

‘Oh? I didn’t really catch his name.’

‘I’m not surprised. You were delirious most of the time’ The abbot squinted at the parchment. ‘This other one died about a month ago,’ he said, ‘but Doctor Voldi here can probably answer just about any question you might have. He’s a little impressed with himself, but he’s the best physician in Cippria.’ He rose, went to the door, and opened it. A pair of youthful monks stood outside. They were, Sparhawk noted, quite similar to the two young Pandions who normally stood guard outside Vanion’s door in the chapterhouse in Cimmura. ‘You,’ the abbot sharply ordered one of them, ‘go into the city and bring Doctor Voldi to me. Don’t take no for an answer.’

‘At once, my Lord,’ the young monk replied. With a certain amusement, Sparhawk noted that the monk’s feet twitched slightly as if he were about to snap his heels together.

The abbot closed the door and returned to his seat. ‘It should be about an hour, I expect.’ He looked at Sparhawk’s grin. ‘Something funny, my friend?’ he asked.

‘Not at all, my Lord. It’s just that your young monks have a very crisp manner about them.’

‘Does it really show that much?’ the abbot asked, looking a little abashed.

‘Yes, my Lord. If you know what you’re looking for, it does.’

The abbot made a wry face. ‘Fortunately, the local people aren’t very familiar with that sort of thing. You’ll be discreet about this discovery, won’t you, Sparhawk?’

‘Of course, my Lord. I was fairly sure about the nature of your order when I left here ten years ago, and I haven’t told anyone yet.’

‘I should have guessed, I suppose. You Pandions tend to have very sharp eyes.’ He rose to his feet. ‘I’ll have some supper sent up. There’s a fairly large partridge that grows hereabouts, and I have an absolutely splendid falcon.’ He laughed. ‘That’s what I do instead of making out the reports I’m supposed to send to Chyrellos. What do you say to a bit of roast fowl?’

‘I think we could manage that,’ Sparhawk replied.

‘And in the meantime, could I offer you and your friends some wine? It’s not Arcian red, but it’s not too bad. We make it here on the grounds. The soil hereabouts isn’t much good for anything but raising grapes.’

‘Thank you, my Lord Abbot,’ Sephrenia replied, ‘but might the child and I have milk instead?’

‘I’m afraid that all we have is goat’s milk, Lady Sephrenia,’ he apologized.