‘Just be careful,’ he told them, ‘and I don’t want any interference when I go after Martel. All right, let’s go.’

They went to the head of the stairs, paused a moment, then drew in a collective deep breath and marched down with drawn weapons.

‘Ah, there you are, old boy,’ Sparhawk drawled to Martel, deliberately imitating the white-haired renegade’s nonchalance, ‘I’ve been looking all over for you.’

‘I was right here, Sparhawk,’ Martel replied, drawing his sword.

‘So I see. I must have been turned around somehow. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.’

‘Not at all.’

‘Splendid. I hate being tardy.’ He looked them over. ‘Good. I see that we’re all here.’ He looked a bit more closely at the Primate of Cimmura. ‘Really, Annias, you should try to get more sun. You’re as white as a sheet.’

‘Oh, before you two get started, Martel,’ Kalten said, ‘I brought you a present – a little memento of our visit. I’m sure you’ll cherish it always.’ He bent slightly and gave the cloak he was carrying a little flip, holding one edge firmly in his gauntleted fist. The cloak unfurled on the onyx floor. Adus’s head rolled out and bounced across to stop at Martel’s feet, where it lay staring up at him.

‘How very kind of you, Sir Kalten,’ Martel said from between clenched teeth. Seemingly indifferent, he kicked the head off to one side. ‘I’m sure that obtaining this gift for me cost you a great deal.’

Sparhawk’s fist tightened about his sword-hilt, and his brain seethed with hatred. ‘It cost me Kurik, Martel,’ he said in a flat voice, ‘and now it’s time to settle accounts.’

Martel’s eyes widened briefly. ‘Kurik?’ he said in a stunned voice. ‘I didn’t expect that. I’m truly sorry, Sparhawk. I liked him. If you ever get back to Demos, give Aslade my sincerest apologies.’

‘I don’t think so, Martel. I won’t insult Aslade by mentioning your name to her. Shall we get on with this?’ Sparhawk began to move forward, his shield braced and his sword-point moving slowly back and forth like the head of a snake. Kalten and the others grounded their weapons and stood watching grimly.

‘A gentleman to the end, I see,’ Martel said, putting on his helmet and moving away from Otha’s litter to give himself fighting room. ‘Your good manners and your sense of fair play will be the death of you yet, Sparhawk. You had the advantage. You should have used it.’

‘I’m not going to need it, Martel. You still have a moment or two for repentance. I’d advise you to use the time well.’

Martel smiled thinly. ‘I don’t think so, Sparhawk,’ he said. ‘I made my choice. I won’t demean myself by changing it now.’ He clapped down his visor.