‘There’s a certain justice there,’ Martel said, trying to breathe shallowly so that the blood rapidly filling his lungs would not choke him again. ‘Killed by my own vanity.’

‘That’s probably what kills us all – eventually.’

‘It was a good fight, though.’

‘Yes. It was.’

‘And we finally found out which of us is the best. Perhaps it’s the time for truth. I never had any real doubts, you know.’

‘I did.’

Sparhawk knelt quietly, listening to Martel’s breathing growing shallower and shallower. ‘Lakus died, you know,’ he said quietly, ‘and Olven.’

‘Lakus and Olven? I didn’t know that. Was I in any way responsible?’

‘No. It was something else.’

‘That’s some small comfort anyway. Could you call Sephrenia for me, Sparhawk? I’d like to say goodbye to her.’

Sparhawk raised his arm and motioned to the woman who had trained them both.

Her eyes were full of tears as she knelt across Martel’s body from Sparhawk. ‘Yes, dear one?’ she said to the dying man.

‘You always said I’d come to a bad end, little mother,’ Martel said wryly, his voice no more than a whisper now, ‘but you were wrong. This isn’t so bad at all. It’s almost like a formal deathbed. I get to depart in the presence of the only two people I’ve ever really loved. Will you bless me, little mother?’

She put her hands to his face and spoke gently in Styric. Then, weeping, she bent and kissed his pallid forehead.

When she raised her face again, he was dead.

Chapter 30

Sparhawk rose to his feet and helped Sephrenia to stand.

‘Are you all right, dear one?’ she whispered.

‘I’m well enough.’ Sparhawk stared hard at Otha.

‘Congratulations, Sir Knight,’ Otha rumbled ironically, his sweaty head gleaming in the light of the fires, ‘and I thank thee. Long have I pondered the problem of Martel. He sought, methinks, to rise above himself, and his usefulness to me ended when thou and thy companions brought Bhelliom to me. I am well rid of him.’

‘Call it a farewell gift, Otha.’

‘Oh? Art thou leaving?’

‘No, but you are.’

Otha laughed. It was a revolting sound.

‘He’s afraid, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia whispered. ‘He’s not sure that you can’t break through his shield.’

‘Can I?’

‘I’m not sure either. He’s very vulnerable now, though, because Azash is totally distracted by that rite.’

‘That’s a place to start then.’ Sparhawk drew in a deep breath and started towards the bloated Emperor of Zemoch.