Lycheas had watched all of this with a look of growing chagrin. Then he seemed to notice something for the first time. ‘Your ring, Sir Sparhawk,’ he said in his whining voice. ‘That is your badge of office, is it not?’

‘In a manner of speaking, yes. Actually the ring – and the Queen’s ring – are symbolic of the link between my family and hers.’

‘Give it to me.’

‘No.’

Lycheas’ eyes bulged. ‘I just gave you a royal command!’ he shouted.

‘No. It was a personal request, Lycheas. You can’t give royal commands, because you’re not the king.’

Lycheas looked uncertainly at the primate, but Annias shook his head slightly. The pimpled young man flushed.

‘The Prince Regent merely wished to examine the ring, Sir Sparhawk,’ the churchman said smoothly. ‘We have sought its mate, the ring of King Aldreas, but it seems to be missing. Would you have any idea where we might find it?’

Sparhawk spread his hands. ‘Aldreas had it on his finger when I left for Cippria,’ he replied. ‘The rings are not customarily taken off, so I assume he was still wearing it when he died.’

‘No. He was not.’

‘Perhaps the Queen has it then.’

‘Not so far as we’re able to determine.’

‘I want that other ring,’ Lycheas insisted, ‘as a symbol of my authority’

Sparhawk looked at him, his face amused. ‘What authority?’ he asked bluntly The ring belongs to Queen Ehlana, and if someone tries to take it from her, I imagine that I’ll have to take steps.’ He suddenly felt a faint prickling of his skin. It seemed that the candles in their gold candelabras flickered slightly and the blue-draped council chamber grew perceptibly dimmer. Instantly, he began to mutter under his breath in the Styric tongue, carefully weaving the counterspell even as he searched the faces of the men sitting around the council table for the source of the rather crude attempt at magic. When he released the counterspell, he saw Annias flinch and he smiled bleakly Then he drew himself up. ‘Now,’ he said, his voice crisp, ‘let’s get down to business. Exactly what happened to King Aldreas?’

The Earl of Lenda sighed. ‘It was the falling-sickness, Sir Sparhawk,’ he replied sadly ‘The seizures began several months ago, and they grew more and more frequent. The King grew weaker and weaker, and finally –’ He shrugged.

‘He didn’t have the falling-sickness when I left Cimmura,’ Sparhawk said.

‘The onset was sudden,’ Annias said coldly.

‘So it seems. It’s rumoured that the Queen fell ill with the same affliction.’

Annias nodded.

‘Didn’t that strike any of you as odd? There’s never been a history of the disease in the royal family, and isn’t it peculiar that Aldreas didn’t develop symptoms until he was in his forties, and his daughter fell ill when she was little more than eighteen?’