Delada’s memory proved to be remarkable. He glossed over the source of his knowledge of the location of the meeting, ascribing it to the ‘excellent military intelligence activities of the Church Knights’. He described the cellar and the long-forgotten aqueduct which had provided such dangerous access to the Basilica itself. He then repeated the conversation between Martel and Annias almost verbatim. The fact that he delivered his account in a completely unemotional tone lent a great deal of weight to his report. Despite his personal feelings in the matter, Delada adhered strictly to his code of neutrality. His report was punctuated frequently by cries of shock and stunned amazement from the Hierocracy and the assembled spectators.

Patriarch Makova, his pockmarked face pale and his speech faltering, rose to question the colonel. ‘Is it at all possible that the voices you heard in that dark cellar were not, in fact, the voices of the two men who were supposedly speaking – that this was some elaborate subterfuge designed to discredit the Primate of Cimmura?’

‘No, Your Grace,’ Delada replied firmly, ‘that is not in any way possible. The one man was most definitely the Primate Annias, and he addressed the other man as Martel.’

Makova began to perspire. He tried another tack. ‘Who was it that escorted you to that cellar, Colonel?’

‘Sir Sparhawk of the Pandion Order, Your Grace.’

‘Well now,’ Makova said triumphantly, smirking around at the other members of the Hierocracy, ‘there we have it, then. Sir Sparhawk has long held a personal enmity for Primate Annias. He has quite obviously swayed this witness.’

Delada came to his feet, his face a fiery red. ‘Are you calling me a liar?’ he demanded, his hand reaching for his sword-hilt.

Makova recoiled, his eyes suddenly very wide.

‘Sir Sparhawk told me absolutely nothing in advance, Patriarch Makova,’ Delada said from between clenched teeth. ‘He wouldn’t even tell me who either of the men in that cellar were. I identified Annias all on my own and Martel from Annias’s own mouth. And I’ll tell you something else as well. Sparhawk is the champion of the Queen of Elenia. If I held that position, the head of the Primate of Cimmura would be decorating a pole in front of the Basilica right now.’

‘How dare you?’ Makova gasped.

‘The man you’re so eager to put on the Archprelate’s throne poisoned Sparhawk’s queen and he’s running to Zemoch right now to beg Otha to protect him from Sparhawk’s anger. You’d better find somebody else to vote for, Your Grace, because even if the Hierocracy makes the mistake of electing Annias of Cimmura to the Archprelacy, he’ll never live to assume that throne, since if Sparhawk doesn’t kill him – I will!’ Delada’s eyes were ablaze and his sword was half-drawn.

Makova shrank back.

‘Ah –’ Dolmant said mildly, ‘would you like a moment to compose yourself, Colonel?’ he suggested.