‘I’ll interview him,’ Ehlana promised.
Then Ulath and Sir Perraine dragged Lycheas into the room. Lycheas gaped at his cousin, his mouth open and his eyes bulging in astonishment. ‘How –?’ he began, then broke off, biting his lip.
‘You didn’t expect to see me alive, Lycheas?’ she asked in a deadly tone.
‘I believe it’s customary to kneel in the presence of your queen, Lycheas,’ Ulath growled, kicking the bastard’s feet out from under him. Lycheas crashed to the floor and grovelled there.
The Earl of Lenda cleared his throat. ‘Your Majesty,’ he said, ‘during the time of your illness, Prince Lycheas insisted that he be addressed as “Your Majesty”. I’ll have to consult the statutes, but I believe that constitutes high treason.’
‘That’s what I arrested him for at least,’ Sparhawk added.
‘That’s good enough for me,’ Ulath said, raising his axe. ‘Say the word, Queen of Elenia, and we’ll have his head on a pole at the palace gate in a matter of minutes.’
Lycheas gaped at them in horror and then began to cry, pleading for his life while his cousin pretended to think it over. At least Sparhawk hoped that she was pretending. ‘Not here, Sir Ulath,’ she said a bit regretfully. ‘The carpeting, you understand.’
‘King Wargun wanted to hang him,’ Kalten said. He looked up. ‘You’ve got a nice high ceiling in here, Your Majesty, and good stout beams. It won’t take me but a moment to fetch a rope. We can have him dancing in the air in no time, and hanging’s not nearly as messy as beheading.’
Ehlana looked at Sparhawk. ‘What do you think, dear? Should we hang my cousin?’
Sparhawk was profoundly shocked at the cold-blooded way she said it.
‘Ah – he has a great deal of information that could be useful to us, My Queen,’ he said.
‘That might be true,’ she said. ‘Tell me, Lycheas, have you anything you’d like to share with us while I think this over?’
‘I’ll say anything you want, Ehlana,’ he blubbered.
Ulath cuffed him across the back of the head. ‘Your Majesty,’ he prompted.
‘What?’
‘You call the queen “Your Majesty”,’ Ulath said, cuffing him again.
‘Y-your Majesty,’ Lycheas stammered.
‘There’s something else too, My Queen,’ Sparhawk continued. ‘Lycheas is Annias’s son, you recall.’
‘How did you find out about that?’ Lycheas exclaimed.
Ulath cuffed him again. ‘He wasn’t talking to you. Speak when you’re spoken to.’
‘As I was saying,’ Sparhawk went on. ‘Lycheas is Annias’s son, and he might be a useful bargaining chip in Chyrellos when we go there to try to keep Annias off the Archprelate’s throne.’
‘Oh,’ she said petulantly, ‘all right – I suppose – but as soon as you’re done with him, turn him over to Sir Ulath and Sir Kalten. I’m sure they’ll find a way to decide which one of them gets to send him on his way.’
‘Draw straws?’ Kalten asked Ulath.
‘Or we could roll the dice,’ Ulath countered.
‘My Lord Lenda,’ Ehlana said then, ‘why don’t you and Lord Vanion take this wretch somewhere and question him. I’m getting sick of the sight of him. Take Sir Kalten, Sir Perraine and Sir Ulath with you. Their presence might encourage him to be more forthcoming.’
‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ Lenda said, concealing a smile.
After Lycheas had been dragged from the room, Sephrenia looked the young queen full in the face. ‘You weren’t seriously considering that, were you, Ehlana?’ she asked.
‘Oh, of course not – well, not too seriously, anyway. I just want Lycheas to sweat a bit. I think I owe him that.’ She sighed wearily. ‘I think I’d like to rest now,’ she said. ‘Sparhawk, do be a dear and carry me in to bed.’
‘That’s hardly proper, Ehlana,’ he said stiffly.
‘Oh, bother proper. You may as well get used to thinking of me and beds at the same time anyway.’
‘Ehlana!’
She laughed and held out her arms to him.
As Sparhawk bent and lifted his queen in his arms, he happened to catch a glimpse of Berit’s face. The young novice was giving him a look of undisguised hatred. There was going to be a problem here, Sparhawk saw. He decided to have a long talk with Berit just as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
He carried Ehlana into the other room and tucked her into a very large bed. ‘You’ve changed a great deal, My Queen,’ he said gravely. ‘You’re not the same person I left ten years ago.’ It was time to get that out into the open so that they could both stop tiptoeing around it.
‘You’ve noticed,’ she said archly.
‘That’s part of it right there,’ he told her, reverting to his professorial tone. ‘You’re still only eighteen years old, Ehlana. It’s not becoming for you to assume the worldly airs of a woman of thirty-five. I strongly recommend a more innocent public pose.’
She squirmed around in the bed until she was lying on her stomach with her head at the foot. She rested her chin in her hands, wide-eyed and ingenuous, her lashes fluttering and with one foot coyly kicking at her pillow. ‘Like this?’ she asked.
‘Stop that.’
‘I’m just trying to please you, my betrothed. Was there anything else about me you’d like to change?’
‘You’ve grown hard, child.’
‘Now it’s your turn to stop something,’ she said firmly. ‘Don’t call me “child” any more, Sparhawk. I stopped being a child the day Aldreas sent you to Rendor. I could be a child as long as you were here to protect me, but once you were gone, I couldn’t afford that any more.’ She sat up cross-legged on the bed. ‘My father’s court was a very unfriendly place for me, Sparhawk,’ she told him gravely. ‘I was dressed up and displayed at court functions where I could watch Aldreas and his sister covertly fondling each other and Annias smirking in the background. Any friends I had were immediately sent away – or killed – so I was forced to entertain myself by eavesdropping on the empty-headed gossip of the chambermaids. As a group, chambermaids tend to be quite wanton. I drew up a chart once – you taught me to be methodical, you’ll remember. You wouldn’t believe what goes on below stairs. My chart indicated that one aggressive little minx had very nearly outstripped Arissa herself in her conquests. Her availability was almost legendary. If I sometimes seem “worldly” – wasn’t that your term? – you can blame it on the tutors who took up my education when you left. After a few years – since any friendship I displayed for the lords and ladies of the court was an immediate cause for their exile or worse – I came to rely on the servants. Servants expect you to give them orders, so I give orders. It’s a habit now. It worked out rather well for me, though. Nothing happens in the palace that the servants don’t know about, and before long, they were telling me everything. I was able to use that information to protect myself from my enemies, and everybody at court except Lenda was my enemy. It wasn’t much of a childhood, Sparhawk, but it prepared me far better than empty hours spent rolling hoops or wasting affection on rag dolls or puppies. If I seem hard, it’s because I grew up in hostile territory. It may take you some years to soften those sharp edges,