‘Excuse me, my friend, but what’s so strategically sound about a stalemate on a flat battlefield? It took more than a century to recover from the last battle between the Zemochs and the west. This way we at least have a chance to end it once and for all. If it appears not to be working, I’ll destroy Bhelliom. Then Azash won’t have any reason to come west again. He’ll go and pester the Tamuls or something instead.’

‘You’d never get through, Sparhawk,’ Preceptor Abriel said. ‘You heard what this Peloi said. There are Zemochs in eastern Pelosia as well as the ones down in eastern Lamorkand. Do you propose to wade through them all by yourself?’

‘I think they’ll stand aside for me, My Lord. Martel’s going north – at least that’s what he said. He may go as far north as Paler, or he may not. It doesn’t really matter, because I’m going to follow him no matter where he goes. He wants me to follow him. He made that fairly clear down in that cellar, and he was very careful to make sure that I heard him because he wants to deliver me to Azash. I think I can trust him not to put anything in my way. I know it sounds a little peculiar, but I think we can actually trust Martel this time. If he really has to, he’ll take his sword and clear a path for me.’ He smiled bleakly. ‘My brother’s tender concern for my welfare touches my heart.’ He looked at Sephrenia. ‘You said that even suggesting the destruction of a God is unthinkable, didn’t you? What would be the general reaction to the idea of destroying Bhelliom?’

‘That’s even more unthinkable, Sparhawk.’

‘Then the notion that I might be considering it won’t even occur to them, will it?’

She shook her head mutely, her eyes strangely frightened as she looked at him.

‘That’s our advantage then, My Lords,’ Sparhawk declared. ‘I can do the one thing that no one can bring himself to believe that I’ll do. I can destroy the Bhelliom – or threaten to. Somehow I have the feeling that people – and Gods – are going to start getting out of my way if I do that.’

Preceptor Abriel was still stubbornly shaking his head. ‘You’ll be trying to bull your way through primitive Zemochs in eastern Pelosia and along the border, Sparhawk. Not even Otha has control over those savages.’

‘Permission to speak, Sarathi?’ Kring asked in a profoundly respectful tone.

‘Of course, my son.’ Dolmant looked a bit puzzled. He had no idea of who this fierce man was.