‘These knights are our staff. Secretaries and the like, you understand. If you deny them entrance, I’ll expect to see a long file of the black-robed underlings of the other Patriarchs filing out of the Basilica in about five minutes.’

‘I can’t do that, Your Grace,’ the captain said stubbornly.

‘Ulath,’ Komier barked.

‘If I may, Your Grace,’ Bevier interposed. Bevier, Sparhawk noted, was holding his lochaber axe loosely in his right hand. ‘The captain and I have met before. Perhaps I can reason with him.’ The young Cyrinic Knight moved his horse forward. ‘Though our relations have never been cordial, Captain,’ he said, ‘I beseech you not to so risk your soul by defying our holy mother, the Church. With this in mind, will you freely stand aside as the Church has commanded you to do?’

‘I will not, Sir Knight.’

Bevier sighed regretfully. Then, with an almost negligent swing of his dreadful axe, he sent the captain’s head flying. Bevier, Sparhawk had noted, did that on occasion. Just as soon as he was certain that he was on firm theological ground, the young Arcian habitually took sometimes shockingly direct action. Even now, his face was serene and untroubled as he watched the captain’s headless body standing stock still for several seconds, and then he sighed as the body collapsed.

The church soldiers gasped and cried out in horror and alarm as they recoiled and reached for their weapons.

‘That tears it,’ Tynian said. ‘Here we go.’ He reached for his sword.

‘Dear friends,’ Bevier addressed the soldiers in a gentle but commanding voice, ‘you have just witnessed a truly regrettable incident. A soldier of the Church has wilfully defied our mother’s lawful command. Let us join together now to offer up a fervent prayer that All-Merciful God shall see fit to forgive his dreadful sin. Kneel, dear friends, and pray.’ Bevier shook the blood off his axe, spattering a number of soldiers in the process.

First a few, then more, and finally all of the soldiers sank to their knees.

‘Oh, God!’ Bevier led them in prayer, ‘we beseech Thee to receive the soul of our dear brother, but recently departed, and grant him absolution for his grievous sin.’ He looked around. ‘Continue to pray, dear friends,’ he instructed the kneeling soldiers. ‘Pray not only for your former captain, but for yourselves as well, lest sin, ever devious and cunning, creep into your hearts even as it crept into his. Defend your purity and humility with vigour, dear friends, lest you share your captain’s fate.’ Then the Cyrinic Knight all in burnished steel and pristine white surcoat and cape, moved his horse forward at a walk, threading his way through the ranks of the kneeling soldiers, bestowing blessings with one hand and holding his lochaber axe in the other.

‘I told you he was a good boy,’ Ulath said to Tynian as the party followed the beatifically smiling Bevier.

‘I never doubted it for a moment, my friend,’ Tynian replied.