‘It’s all very complicated, isn’t it? Wouldn’t it just be simpler for us to move in with the army and put the man we want on the throne?’

‘That’s been tried in the past. It never really worked out. I don’t think God approves.’

‘He’ll approve a lot less if Annias wins, won’t He?’

‘There could be something to what you say, Talen.’

Tynian rode forward, and there was a grin on his broad face. ‘Kalten and Ulath are amusing themselves by terrorizing Lycheas,’ he said. ‘Ulath’s been lopping off saplings with his axe, and Kalten’s coiled a noose. He’s been pointing out overhanging tree-limbs to Lycheas. Lycheas keeps fainting. We had to chain his hands to his saddle-bow to keep him from falling out of his saddle.’

‘Kalten and Ulath are simple fellows,’ Sparhawk observed. ‘It doesn’t take much to keep them amused. Lycheas will have a great deal to tell his mother when we get to Demos.’

About midday, they turned southeast to ride across country. The weather held fair. They made good time and reached Demos late the following day. Just before the column swung south towards the encampment of the knights of the other three orders, Sparhawk, Kalten and Ulath took Lycheas around the northern edge of town to the cloister in which Princess Arissa was confined. The cloister had yellow sandstone walls, and it stood in a wooded glen where birds sang from the limbs in the late afternoon sunshine.

Sparhawk and his friends dismounted at the gate and rather roughly jerked the chained Lycheas from his saddle.

‘We’ll need to speak with your Mother Superior,’ Sparhawk told the gentle little nun who opened the gate for them. ‘Is Princess Arissa still spending most of her time in that garden near the south wall?’

‘Yes, My Lord.’

‘Please ask the Mother Superior to join us there. We’re delivering Arissa’s son to her.’ He took Lycheas by the scruff of the neck and dragged him across the courtyard towards the walled garden where Arissa spent her long hours of confinement. Sparhawk was coldly angry for a number of reasons.

‘Mother!’ Lycheas cried when he saw her. He broke free from Sparhawk and stumbled towards her, his imploring hands hampered by his chains.

Princess Arissa came to her feet, her face outraged. The circles under her eyes had lessened, and her look of sullen discontent had faded to be replaced by one of smug anticipation. ‘What’s the meaning of this?’ she demanded, embracing her cowering son.

‘They threw me in the dungeon, mother,’ Lycheas blubbered, ‘and they’ve been threatening me.’

‘How dare you treat the Prince Regent so, Sparhawk?’ she burst out.

‘The situation has greatly changed, Princess,’ Sparhawk informed her coolly. ‘Your son isn’t Prince Regent any more.’

‘No one has the authority to depose him. You’ll pay for this with your life, Sparhawk.’