‘Heresy!’ Bevier gasped.
‘Not really, Sir Knight. That word’s used to describe somebody who strays from the teachings of his own faith. I’m not a member of the Elene faith, so my speculations can’t really be heretical, can they?’
‘He’s got you there, Bevier,’ Ulath said. ‘His logic’s unassailable.’
‘It raises some very interesting questions,’ Vanion mused. ‘It’s entirely possible that the Church blundered when she founded the Militant Orders. We may not have had to go outside our own faith for instruction in magic. If we’d asked Him the right way, our own God might have given us the help we needed.’ He coughed a bit uncomfortably. ‘I’ll trust you gentlemen not to tell Sephrenia I came up with that. If I start suggesting that she’s unnecessary, she might take it the wrong way.’
‘Lord Vanion,’ Emban said quite formally. ‘As the representative of the Church, I forbid you to continue this speculation. This is dangerous ground, and I want a ruling from Dolmant before we pursue the matter any further – and for God’s sake, don’t start experimenting.’
‘Ah – Patriarch Emban,’ Vanion reminded him rather mildly, ‘I think that you’re forgetting the fact that as the Preceptor of the Pandion Order, my rank in the Church is the same as yours. Technically speaking, you can’t forbid me to do anything.’
‘Sparhawk’s the Preceptor now.’
‘Not until he’s been confirmed by the Hierocracy, Emban. I’m not trying to demean your authority, old boy, but let’s observe the proprieties, shall we? It’s the little things that keep us civilised when we’re far from home.’
‘Aren’t Elenes fun?’ Oscagne said to Norkan.
‘I was just about to make the same observation myself.’
They met with King Androl and Queen Betuana later that morning. Ambassador Oscagne explained their mission in the flowing Tamul tongue.
‘He’s skirting around your rather unique capabilities, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia said quietly. A faint smile touched her lips. ‘The emperor’s officials seem a little unwilling to admit that they’re powerless and that they had to appeal for outside help.’
Sparhawk nodded. ‘We’ve been through it before,’ he murmured. ‘Oscagne was very concerned about that when he spoke to us in Chyrellos. It seems a little short-sighted in this situation, though. The Atans make up the Tamul army. It doesn’t really make much sense to keep secrets from them.’
‘Whatever made you think that politics made sense, Sparhawk?’
‘I’ve missed you, little mother,’ he laughed.
‘I certainly hope so.’
King Androl’s face was grave, even stern as Oscagne described what they had discovered in Astel. Queen Betuana’s expression was somewhat softer – largely because Danae was sitting in her lap. Sparhawk had seen his daughter do that many times. Whenever there was a potential for tension in a situation, Danae started looking for laps. People invariably responded to her unspoken appeals to be held without even thinking about it. ‘She does that on purpose, doesn’t she?’ he whispered to Sephrenia.
‘That went by a little fast, Sparhawk.’
‘Aphrael. She climbs into people’s laps in order to control them.’
‘Of course. Close contact makes it far more certain – and subtle.’
‘That’s the reason she’s always remained a child, isn’t it? So that people will pick her up and hold her and she can make them do what she wants?’
‘Well, it’s one of the reasons.’
‘She won’t be able to do that when she grows up, you know.’
‘Yes, I do know, Sparhawk, and I’m going to be very interested to see how she handles the situation. Oscagne’s coming to the point now. He’s asking Androl for a report on any incidents similar to the ones you’ve encountered.’
Norkan stepped forward to translate for Androl, and Oscagne retired to the Elene side of the room to perform the same service. The Tamuls had perfected the tedious but necessary business of translation to make it as smooth and unobtrusive as possible.
King Androl pondered the matter for a few moments. Then he smiled at Ehlana and spoke to her in Tamul. His voice was very soft.
‘Thus says the King,’ Norkan began his translation. ‘Gladly do we greet Ehlana-Queen once more, for her presence is like the sunshine come at last after a long winter.’
‘Oh, that’s very nice,’ Sephrenia murmured. ‘We always seem to forget the poetic side of the Atan nature.’
‘Moreover,’ Norkan continued his translation, ‘glad are we to welcome the fabled warriors of the west and the wise-man of Chyrellos-Church.’ Norkan was obviously translating verbatim.
Emban politely inclined his head.
‘Clearly we see our common concern in the matter at hand, and staunchly will we join with the West-warriors in such acts as are needful.’
Androl spoke again, pausing from time to time for translation. ‘Our minds have been unquiet in seasons past, for we have failed in tasks set for us by our Matherion-masters. This troubles us, for we are not accustomed to failure.’ His expression was slightly mortified as he made that admission. ‘I am sure, Ehlana-Queen, that Oscagne-Emperor-Speaker has told you of our difficulties in parts of Tamuli beyond our own borders. Shamed are we that he has spoken truly.’
Queen Betuana said something briefly to her husband.
‘She told him to get on with it,’ Sephrenia murmured to Sparhawk. ‘It appears that his tendency to be flowery irritates her – at least that was the impression I got.’
Androl said something to Norkan in an apologetic tone.
‘That’s a surprise,’ Norkan said, obviously speaking for himself now. ‘The King just admitted that he’s been keeping secrets from me. He doesn’t usually do that.’
Androl spoke again, and Norkan’s translation became more colloquial as the Atan king seemed to lay formality aside. ‘He says that there have been incidents here in Atan itself. It’s an internal matter, so he technically wasn’t obliged to tell me about it. He says they’ve encountered creatures he calls “the shaggy ones”. As I understand it, the creatures are even bigger than the tallest Atans.’
‘Long arms?’ Ulath asked intently. ‘Flat noses and big bones in the face? Pointed teeth?’
Norkan translated into Tamul, and King Androl looked at Ulath with some surprise. Then he nodded.
‘Trolls!’ Ulath said. ‘Ask him how many his people have seen at any one time.’
‘Fifty or more,’ came the reply.
Ulath shook his head. ‘That’s very unlikely,’ he said flatly. ‘You might find a single family of Trolls working together, but never fifty all at once.’
‘He wouldn’t lie,’ Norkan insisted.
‘I didn’t say he did, but Trolls have never behaved that way before. If they had, they’d have driven us out of Thalesia.’
‘It seems that the rules have changed, Ulath,’ Tynian noted. ‘Have there been any other incidents, your Excellency? Things that didn’t involve Trolls?’
Norkan spoke to the king and then translated the reply. ‘They’ve had encounters with warriors in strange armour and with strange equipment.’
‘Ask him if they