‘What good’s it going to do us to run if we know that Sparhawk’s right behind us with Bhelliom in his hands? He’ll obliterate Otha and us along with him.’

‘Not very likely. Sparhawk’s moderately stupendous, but he’s not a God. Azash, however, is, and Azash has wanted Bhelliom since before the beginning of time. Sparhawk will chase us, and Azash will be waiting for him. Azash will destroy him in order to take Bhelliom from him. Then Otha will invade. Since we’ll have done such a tremendous service for him, he’ll reward us – lavishly. He’ll put you on the Archprelate’s throne and give me the crown of any Elenian kingdom I choose – perhaps even all of them. Otha’s lost his hunger for power in the last thousand years or so. I’ll even set Lycheas up as Regent – or even King – of Elenia, if you want – although I can’t for the life of me think of any reason you’d want that. Your son’s a snivelling cretin, and the sight of him turns my stomach. Why don’t you have him strangled, and then you and Arissa can try again? If you both concentrate, you might even be able to produce a real human being instead of an eel.’

Sparhawk felt a sudden chill. He looked around. Though he could not see it, he knew that the shadowy watcher which had followed him from Ghwerig’s cave was somewhere here in the room. Could it possibly be that merely the mention of Bhelliom’s name was enough to summon it?

‘But how do we know that Sparhawk will be able to follow us?’ Annias was asking. ‘He doesn’t know about our arrangement with Otha, so he won’t have the faintest idea of where we’re going.’

‘You are naive, aren’t you, Annias?’ Martel laughed. ‘Sephrenia can listen in on a conversation from at least five miles away, and she can arrange to have everyone in the room with her hear it as well. Not only that, there are hundreds of places in this cellar that are within earshot of this room. Believe me, Annias, one way or another, Sparhawk’s listening to us at this very moment.’ He paused. ‘Aren’t you, Sparhawk?’ he added.

Chapter 15

Martel’s question hung in the musty dimness. ‘Stay here,’ Sparhawk whispered bleakly to Delada. He reached for his sword.

‘Not very likely,’ the colonel replied, his tone just as grim. He also drew his sword.

It was really neither the time nor the place for arguments. ‘All right, but be careful. I’ll take Martel. You grab Annias.’

The two of them stepped out of their place of concealment and walked towards the single candle guttering on the table.

‘Why, if it isn’t my dear brother Sparhawk,’ Martel drawled. ‘So awfully good to see you again, old boy.’

‘Look quickly, Martel. You aren’t going to be seeing much of anything for very long.’