‘My Lord of Lenda,’ Vanion said rather formally, ‘we’re going to the throne-room now to restore the queen. I’d like to have you witness that restoration so that you can confirm her identity in case any doubts arise later. The commons are superstitious, and there are those who might want to circulate rumours to the effect that Ehlana is not who she appears to be.’

‘Very well, My Lord Vanion,’ Lenda agreed, ‘but how do you plan to restore her?’

‘You’ll see,’ Sephrenia smiled. She held out her hands over the swords and spoke at some length in Styric. The swords glowed briefly as she released the spell, and the knights who had been present during the encasement of the Queen of Elenia stepped to the table. She talked to them briefly in low tones, and then each of them took up one of the swords. ‘Very well,’ she said, ‘let us proceed to the throne-room.’

‘This is all very mysterious,’ Lenda said to Sparhawk as they walked down the corridor towards the throne-room.

‘Have you ever seen real magic performed, My Lord?’ Sparhawk asked him.

‘I don’t believe in magic, Sparhawk.’

‘That may change shortly, Lenda,’ Sparhawk smiled.

The old courtier produced the key from an inside pocket and unlocked the door to the throne-room. Then they all followed Sephrenia inside. The room was dark. During Lenda’s confinement, the candles had been allowed to go out. Sparhawk, nonetheless, could still hear the measured drumbeat of his queen’s heart echoing in the darkness. Kurik stepped back outside and brought in a torch. ‘Fresh candles?’ he asked Sephrenia.

‘Definitely,’ she replied. ‘Let’s not awaken Ehlana to a dark room.’

Kurik and Berit replaced the burned-out candle-stubs with fresh tapers. Then Berit looked curiously at the young queen he had served so faithfully without ever having seen her. His eyes grew suddenly wide as he stared at her, and he seemed to catch his breath. His look was one of totally appropriate veneration, but there was, Sparhawk thought, perhaps a bit more to it than simple respect. Berit was about the same age as Ehlana, and she was very beautiful, after all.

‘That’s much better,’ Sephrenia said, looking around at the candlelit throne-room. ‘Sparhawk, come with me.’ She led him to the dais upon which the throne stood.

Ehlana sat as she had for all these months. She wore the crown of Elenia on her pale, blonde head, and she was enfolded in her state robes. Her eyes were closed, and her face serene.

‘Just a few more moments, my queen,’ Sparhawk murmured. Strangely, his eyes were filled with tears, and his heart was in his throat.

‘Remove your gauntlets, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia told him. ‘You’ll want the rings to touch Bhelliom when you use it.’

He took off his mailed gauntlets, then reached inside his surcoat, removed the canvas pouch and untied the drawstring.