‘But the Hierocracy’s not in session just now, Your Grace,’ Sparhawk pointed out. ‘They’re in recess during the period of official mourning.’

‘I still cannot be tried by a civil court. I demand that you present these specious charges before an ecclesiastical court.’

‘Take him outside,’ Sparhawk curtly instructed the black-armoured Sir Perraine.

The Patriarch of Cardos was dragged from the room.

‘Why the delay?’ Kalten asked.

‘Two things. Our prisoner didn’t really seem all that surprised at the charges, did he?’

‘Now that you mention it, no.’

‘I think maybe Lenda missed a few names when he was drawing up that list.’

‘That’s always possible. What was the other thing?’

‘Let’s send a message to Annias. He knows that we can’t touch him as long as he stays inside the Basilica, doesn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘All right then, let’s imprison him there and curtail his freedom of movement – for its irritation value if nothing else. We still owe him for that poisoned cook.’

‘How do you plan to do that?’

‘Watch – and follow my lead.’

‘Don’t I always?’

They went out to the courtyard of the Patriarch’s luxurious house, a house built, Sparhawk was sure, on the backs of the Elenian taxpayers. ‘My colleague and I have considered your request for an ecclesiastical hearing, Your Grace,’ the big Pandion said to the prisoner. ‘We find that your argument has merit.’ He began to leaf through his sheaf of warrants.

‘You’ll deliver me to the Basilica for a hearing there then?’ the Patriarch asked.

‘Hmm?’ Sparhawk said absently, still reading.

‘I said, are you going to take me to the Basilica and present these absurd charges there?’

‘Ah, I don’t think so, Your Grace. That would really be inconvenient.’ Sparhawk pulled out the warrant for the arrest of the Primate of Cimmura and showed it to Kalten.

‘That’s the one, all right,’ Kalten said. ‘That’s the fellow we want.’