There was a stunned silence as they all stared at the Patriarch of Demos.

‘Oh dear,’ Sephrenia said mildly, her eyes dancing and a faint smile hovering at the corners of her mouth. ‘I suppose I really shouldn’t have said that, should I have, Dolmant?’

‘Did you really have to do that, little mother?’ he asked her in a pained tone.

‘Yes, dear one, I believe I did. You’ve started to become just a little too impressed with your own cleverness. It’s my responsibility as your teacher – and your friend – to curb that whenever possible.’

Dolmant tapped one finger on the table in front of him. ‘I trust we’ll all be discreet about this, gentlemen?’

‘Wild horses couldn’t drag it out of us, Dolmant,’ Emban grinned. ‘As far as I’m concerned, I never even heard it – and that’ll probably hold true until the next time I need a favour from you.’

‘Were you any good, Your Grace?’ Kalten asked respectfully. ‘As a Pandion, I mean?’

‘He was the best, Kalten,’ Sephrenia said rather proudly. ‘He was even a match for Sparhawk’s father. We were all saddened when the Church found other duties for him. We lost a very good Pandion when he took holy orders.’

Dolmant was still looking around at his friends, his expression suspicious. ‘I thought I’d buried it completely,’ he sighed. ‘I never thought you’d betray me, Sephrenia.’

‘It’s not exactly as if it were shameful, Your Grace,’ Vanion said.

‘It might prove to be politically inconvenient,’ Dolmant said. ‘At least you were able to control your tongue, brother.’

‘Not to worry, Dolmant,’ Emban said expansively. ‘I’ll keep an eye on your friends here, and as soon as I suspect that one of them is starting to have difficulty controlling his tongue, I’ll order him to that monastery at Zemba down in Cammoria where the brothers all take vows of silence.’

‘All right then,’ Vanion said, ‘let’s get started, gentlemen. We have a number of friendly Patriarchs to round up, and Kalten, I want you to go start practising forgery. The names you’ll be substituting on those arrest warrants will have to be in the handwriting of the Earl of Lenda.’ He paused thoughtfully, looking at his blond subordinate. ‘You’d better take Sparhawk with you,’ he added.

‘I can manage, My Lord.’

Vanion shook his head. ‘No, Kalten,’ he disagreed, ‘I don’t think so. I’ve seen your attempts at spelling before.’

‘Bad?’ Darellon asked him.

‘Terrible, my friend. Once he wrote down a six-letter word, and he didn’t manage to get a single letter right.’

‘Some words are difficult to spell, Vanion.’

‘His own name?’

‘But you can’t do this!’ the Patriarch of Cardos protested shrilly as Sparhawk and Kalten dragged him from his house a few days later. ‘You can’t arrest a Patriarch of the Church for anything while the Hierocracy’s in session.’