‘Ah, politics.’ Voldi laughed. ‘Those fellows have all the money, don’t they?’ He frowned then. ‘It does seem to me –’ He broke off, palming at his hair again. ‘Where did I hear that?’ He scratched at his head, disturbing the carefully slicked-down hair. Then he snapped his fingers again. ‘Ah yes,’ he said triumphantly, ‘I have it now. I’ve heard some rumours – only rumours, mind you – that a physician in Dabour has effected a few cures –members of the king’s family in Zand. Normally that information would have been immediately disseminated to all other physicians, but I have some suspicions about the matter. I know the fellow, and there have been some ugly stories about him circulating in medical circles for years now. There are some who maintain that his miraculous-appearing cures are the result of certain forbidden practices.’

‘Which practices?’ Sephrenia asked intently

‘Magic, madame. What else? My friend in Dabour would immediately lose his head if word got out that he was practising witchcraft.’

‘I see,’ she said. ‘Did this rumour about a cure come to you from one single source?’

‘Oh, no,’ he replied. ‘Any number of people have told me about it. The king’s brother and several nephews fell ill. The physician from Dabour – Tanjin his name is – was summoned to the palace. He confirmed that they had all been poisoned with Darestim, and then he cured them. Out of gratitude, the king suppressed the information of exactly how the cures were effected, and he issued Tanjin a full pardon just to make sure.’ He smirked. ‘Not that the pardon is much good, mind you, since the king’s authority doesn’t go much beyond the walls of his own palace in Zand. Anyway, anyone with the slightest bit of medical knowledge knows how it was done.’ He assumed a lofty expression. ‘I wouldn’t stoop to that myself,’ he declared, ‘but Doctor Tanjin is notoriously greedy, and I imagine that the king paid him handsomely.’

‘Thank you for your assistance, Doctor Voldi,’ Sparhawk said then.

‘I’m sorry about your friend,’ Voldi said. ‘By the time you get to Dabour and back, he’ll be long since dead, I’m afraid. Darestim works rather slowly, but it’s always fatal.’

‘So’s a sword through the belly,’ Sparhawk said grimly ‘At the very least, we’ll be able to avenge our friend.’

‘What a dreadful thought,’ Voldi shuddered. ‘Are you at all acquainted with the kind of damage a sword does to someone?’

‘Intimately,’ Sparhawk replied.

‘Oh, that’s right. You would be, wouldn’t you? Would you like to have me take a look at those old wounds of yours?’

‘Thanks all the same, Doctor. They’re quite healed now’