Mirtai pulled aside her monk’s robe, reached down and modestly lifted her kilt a few inches. As Talen had told him, she had curved knives strapped to her lower thighs so that the blades rode along the inside of her calves for about four inches. The knives appeared to be very sharp. He also noted in passing that both her knees were dimpled. ‘It’s a practical arrangement for a woman,’ she explained. ‘Men sometimes become playful at inconvenient times. The knives persuade them to go and play with someone else.’

‘Isn’t that illegal?’ Wargun asked.

‘Would you like to try to arrest her, Your Majesty?’

‘Will you all stop that chattering?’ Ehlana said sharply to them. ‘You sound like a flock of magpies. This is what we’re going to do. In a few moments, things will start to quieten down out there. Then Wargun will escort me back inside, and Mirtai and Sparhawk will follow. I’ll lean on Wargun’s arm and look properly weak and trembly. After all, I’ve either just fainted or had a Divine visitation – depending on which of the rumours I hear buzzing around out there you care to believe. We all want to be in our places before the Archprelate is escorted to his throne.’

‘How are you going to explain that speech to them, Ehlana?’ Wargun demanded.

‘I’m not,’ she replied. ‘I’ll have absolutely no memory of it whatsoever. They’ll believe whatever they want to believe, and no one will dare to call me a liar, because either Sparhawk or Mirtai will challenge them if they do.’ She smiled then. ‘Was the man I chose more or less the one you had in mind, dear?’ she asked Sparhawk.

‘Yes, I think he is.’

‘You may thank me properly then – when we’re alone. Very well, then, let’s go back inside.’

They all looked suitably grave as they re-entered the chamber. Ehlana leaned heavily on Wargun, her face looking wan and exhausted. There was a sudden, awed silence as the two monarchs resumed their places.

Patriarch Emban waddled forward, his face looking concerned. ‘Is she all right?’ he asked.

‘She seems a bit better,’ Sparhawk told him. It was not exactly a lie. ‘She tells us that she has no memory of anything she said when she was addressing the Hierocracy. It might be better if we didn’t press her on that point in her present condition, Your Grace.’

Emban gave Ehlana a shrewd look. ‘I understand perfectly, Sparhawk. I’ll make a few suitable remarks to the Hierocracy.’ He smiled at Ehlana. ‘I’m so glad to see that you’re feeling better, Your Majesty,’ he said.

‘Thank you, Your Grace,’ shell replied in a trembling little voice.