Sparhawk said.
‘The onset was sudden,’ Annias said coldly.
‘So it seems. It’s rumoured that the Queen fell ill with the same affliction.’
Annias nodded.
‘Didn’t that strike any of you as odd? There’s never been a history of the disease in the royal family, and isn’t it peculiar that Aldreas didn’t develop symptoms until he was in his forties, and his daughter fell ill when she was little more than eighteen?’
‘I have no medical background, Sparhawk,’ Annias told him. ‘You may question the court physicians if you wish, but I doubt that you’re going to unearth anything that we haven’t already discovered.’
Sparhawk grunted. He looked around the council chamber. ‘I think that covers everything we need to discuss here,’ he said. ‘I’ll see the Queen now.’
‘Absolutely not!’ Lycheas said.
‘I’m not asking you, Lycheas,’ the big knight said firmly. ‘May I have that?’ He pointed at the parchment still lying on the table in front of the primate.
They passed it down to him, and he ran through it quickly. ‘Here it is,’ he said, picking out the sentences he wanted. ‘“You are commanded to present yourself to me immediately upon your return to Cimmura.” That doesn’t leave any room for argument, does it?’
‘What are you up to, Sparhawk?’ the primate asked suspiciously.
‘I’m just obeying orders, your Grace. I’m commanded by the Queen to present myself to her and I’m going to do precisely that.’
The door to the throne room is locked,’ Lycheassnapped. The smile Sparhawk gave him was almost benign. ‘That’s all right, Lycheas,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a key.’ He put his hand suggestively on the silver-bound hilt of his sword.
‘You wouldn’t!’
‘Try me.’
Annias cleared his throat. ‘If I may speak, your Highness?’ he said.
‘Of course, your Grace,’ Lycheas replied quickly. ‘The crown is always open to the advice and counsel of the Church.’
‘Crown?’ Sparhawk asked.
‘A formula, Sir Sparhawk,’ Annias told him. ‘Prince Lycheas speaks for the crown for as long as the Queen is incapacitated.’
‘Not to me, he doesn’t.’
Annias turned back towards Lycheas. ‘It is the advice of the Church that we accede to the somewhat churlish request of the Queen’s Champion,’ he said. ‘Let no one accuse us of incivility Moreover, the Church advises that the Prince Regent and all of the council accompany Sir Sparhawk to the throne room. He is reputed to be adept at certain forms of magic, and – to protect the Queen’s life – we must not permit him to employ precipitously those arts without full consultation with the court physicians.’
Lycheas made some pretence of thinking it over. Then he rose to his feet. ‘It shall be as you advise, then, your Grace,’ he declared. ‘You are directed to accompany us, Sir Sparhawk.’
‘Directed?’
Lycheas ignored that and swept regally towards the door
Sparhawk let Baron Harparin and the fat man in red pass, then fell in beside Primate Annias. He was smiling in a relaxed fashion, but there was little in the way ofgood humour in the low voice that came from between his teeth. ‘Don’t ever try that again, Annias,’ he said.
‘What?’ The primate sounded startled.
‘Your magic. You’re not very good at it in the first place, and it irritates me to have to waste the effort of countering the work of amateurs. Besides, churchmen are forbidden to dabble in magic, as I recall.’
‘You have no proof, Sparhawk.’
‘I don’t need proof, Annias. My oath as a Pandion Knight would be sufficient in any civil or ecclesiastical court. Why don’t we just leave it there? But don’t mutter any more incantations in my direction.’
With Lycheas in the lead, the council and Sparhawk went down a candlelit corridor to the broad double doors of the throne room. When they reached the doors, Lycheas took a key from inside his doublet and unlocked them. ‘All right,’ he said