There was a rumble of assent, though the looks of consternation on the faces of at least some of the Patriarchs clearly showed that they already knew the answer. The weedy monk consulted several large tomes, then rose, cleared his throat and spoke in a rusty-sounding voice. ‘His Grace, the Patriarch of Ucera, has correctly cited the law,’ he said. ‘The Preceptors of the militant orders are indeed members of the Hierocracy, and the names of the current holders of those offices have been duly entered in the rolls of this body. The Preceptors have not chosen to participate in deliberations for some two centuries past, but they have the rank nonetheless.’

‘Authority not exercised no longer exists,’ Makova snapped.

‘I’m afraid that’s not entirely true, Your Grace,’ the monk apologized. ‘There are many historical precedents for resuming participation. At one time, the Patriarchs of the kingdom of Arcium refused to participate in the deliberations of the Hierocracy for eight hundred years as a result of a dispute over proper vestments, and –’

‘All right. All right,’ Makova said angrily, ‘but these armoured assassins have no right to be here.’ He glared at the knights.

‘Wrong again, Makova,’ Emban said smugly. ‘By definition, the Church Knights are members of religious orders. Their vows are no less binding and legitimate than ours. They are thus Churchmen and may act as observers – provided that they are invited by a sitting Patriarch.’ He turned. ‘Sir Knights,’ he said, ‘would you be so good as to accept my personal invitation to witness our proceedings?’

Makova looked quickly at the scholarly monk, and the weedy fellow nodded.

‘What it boils down to, Makova,’ Emban said in an unctuous tone tinged with malice, ‘is that the Knights of the Church have as much right to be present as the serpent Annias, who sits in unearned splendour in the north gallery – chewing his lower lip in dismay, I note.’

‘You go too far, Emban!’

‘I don’t really think so, old boy. Shall we take a vote on something, Makova, and find out how much your support has been eroded?’ Emban looked around. ‘But we’re interrupting the proceedings. I pray you, my brother Patriarchs and dear guests, let us take our seats so that the Hierocracy may continue its empty deliberations.’

‘Empty?’ Makova gasped.

‘Totally empty, old boy. Until Cluvonus dies, nothing we decide here has any meaning whatsoever. We’re simply amusing ourselves – and earning our pay, of course.’

‘That’s a very offensive little man,’ Tynian murmured to Ulath.

‘Good though,’ the huge Genidian Knight grinned.

Sparhawk knew exactly where he was going. ‘You,’ he muttered to Talen, who had probably been admitted by mistake, ‘come with me.’

‘Where are we going?’