‘I’d guess that he’s a minor bootlicker trying to assert his own importance,’ Sparhawk whispered back. ‘We don’t want to stir anything up, so let’s do as he says.’

‘Take the prisoners to my tent,’ Ulesim commanded grandly after a moment’s hesitation. The favoured disciple didn’t seem to know exactly what to do.

The pikemen stepped forward threateningly, and one of them led the way towards a tent surmounted by a drooping pennon made of dirty green cloth.

They were roughly shoved into the tent, and the flap was tied down.

Kurik’s expression was filled with contempt. ‘Amateurs, ’ he muttered. ‘They hold those pikes like shepherd’s crooks and they didn’t even search us for weapons.’

‘They may be amateurs, Kurik,’ Sephrenia said softly, ‘but they’ve managed to take us prisoner.’

‘Not for long,’ Kurik growled, reaching under his robe for his dagger. ‘I’ll cut a hole in the back of the tent, and we can be on our way’

‘No,’ Sparhawk said quietly ‘We’d have a horde of howling fanatics on our heels in about two minutes if we did that.’

‘We’re not just going to sit here?’ Kurik asked incredulously

‘Let me handle it, Kurik.’

They sat waiting in the stifling tent as the minutes dragged by.

After a bit, the tent-flap opened and Ulesim entered with two of his men close behind him. ‘I will have your name from you, cowherd,’ he said arrogantly.

‘I am called Mahkra, Lord Ulesim,’ Sparhawk replied meekly, ‘and this is my sister, her daughter, and my servant. May I ask why we have been detained?’

Ulesim’s eyes narrowed. ‘There are those who refuse to accept holy Arasham’s authority,’ he declared. ‘I, Ulesim, his most favoured disciple, have taken it upon myself to root out these false prophets and send them to the stake. Holy Arasham relies upon me completely.’

‘Is that still going on?’ Sparhawk asked in mild surprise. ‘I thought that all opposition to Arasham had been stamped out decades ago.’

‘Not so! Not so!’ Ulesim half-shrieked. ‘There are still plotters and conspirators hiding in the desert and lurking in the cities. I will not rest until I have unearthed every one of these criminals and consigned them to the flames.’

‘You have nothing to fear from me or my band, Lord Ulesim,’ Sparhawk assured him. ‘We revere the holy prophet of God and pay him homage in our prayers.’

‘So you say, Mahkra, but can you prove your identity and satisfy me that you have legitimate business in the holy city?’ The fanatic smirked at his two cohorts as if he had just scored a tremendous point.

‘Why yes, Lord Ulesim,’ Sparhawk replied calmly, ‘I believe I can. We are here to speak with a cattle buyer named Mirrelek. Do you perhaps know him?’

Ulesim puffed himself up. ‘What would I, the favoured disciple of holy Arasham, have to do with some common cattle buyer?’