grunted. ‘You’re probably right. Can you think of any alternatives?’
‘Perhaps so. As it happens, I have a kinsman – a marquis from eastern Arcium – who has a villa on the outskirts of the city. I have not seen him for some years – our family disapproved of him because he’s in trade – but perhaps he will remember me. He’s a good-natured fellow, and if I approach him right, he might extend his hospitality.’
‘It’s worth a try, I guess. All right. Lead the way.’
They rode around the western outskirts of Madel to an opulent house surrounded by a low wall built of the local sandstone. The house was set back some distance from the road and was surrounded by tall evergreens and well-groomed lawns. There was a gravelled court directly in front of the house, and they dismounted there. A servant in sober livery emerged from the house and approached inquiringly.
‘Would you be so good as to advise the marquis that his second cousin, Sir Bevier, and several friends would like to have a word with him?’ the Cyrinic inquired politely.
‘At once, my Lord.’ The servant turned and re-entered the house.
The man who emerged from the house a few moments later was stout and had a florid face. He wore one of the colourful silk robes common in southern Cammoria rather than Arcian doublet and hose, and his welcoming grin was broad. ‘Bevier,’ he greeted his distant cousin with a warm handclasp. ‘What are you doing in Cammoria?’
‘Seeking refuge, Lycien,’ Bevier replied. His open young face clouded momentarily. ‘The family has not treated you well, Lycien,’ he admitted. ‘I could not blame you if you turned me and my friends away.’
‘Nonsense, Bevier. The decision to take up trading was mine. I knew how the rest of the family would feel about it. I’m delighted to see you. You mentioned refuge?’
Bevier nodded. ‘We’re here on Church business of some delicacy,’ he said, ‘and there are a few too many eyes watching the Cyrinic chapterhouse in the city. I know it’s a great deal to ask, but might we impose on your hospitality?’
‘By all means, my boy, by all means.’ Marquis Lycien clapped his hands sharply, and several grooms came out of the stables. ‘See to the mounts of these visitors and their cart,’ the marquis ordered. Then he laid his hand on Bevier’s shoulder. ‘Come in,’ he invited them all. ‘My house is yours.’ He turned and led the way through the low, arched doorway and on into the house. Once they were inside, they followed him to a pleasant room with low, cushioned furniture and a fireplace where several logs crackled and snapped. ‘Please, friends, sit,’ Lycien said. Then he looked speculatively at them. ‘This Church business of yours must be very important, Bevier,’ he guessed. ‘Judging from their features, I’d say that your friends represent all four of the militant orders.’
‘Your eyes are sharp, Marquis,’ Sparhawk told him.
‘Am I going to get in trouble over this?’ Lycien asked. Then he grinned. ‘Not that I care, mind you. It’s just that I like to be prepared.’
‘It’s not too likely,’ Sparhawk assured him. ‘Particularly if we’re successful in our mission. Tell me, my Lord, do you have contacts in the harbour?’
‘Extensive ones, Sir –’
‘Sparhawk,’ the Pandion supplied.
‘Champion of the Queen of Elenia?’ Lycien looked surprised. ‘I heard that you’d returned from your exile in Rendor; but aren’t you a bit far afield? Shouldn’t you be in Cimmura trying to circumvent the attempts of the Primate Annias to depose your lady?’
‘You’re well informed, my Lord,’ Sparhawk said.
‘I have widespread commercial contacts.’ Lycien shrugged. He winked at Bevier. ‘That’s what disgraced me in the eyes of the family. My agent and the masters of my ships gather much information in the course of their dealings.’
‘I gather, my Lord, that you’re not overly fond of the Primate of Cimmura?’
‘The man’s a scoundrel.’
‘Our sentiments exactly,’ Kalten agreed.
‘Very well, then, my Lord,’ Sparhawk said. ‘What we’re involved with is an attempt to counter the growing power of the primate. If we’re successful, we can stop him in his tracks. I’d tell you more, but it might be dangerous for you if you knew too many of the details.’
‘I can appreciate that, Sir Sparhawk,’ Lycien said. ‘Tell me, in what way can I help?’
‘Three of us need to go to Cippria,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘For the sake of your own safety, it might be better if we were to take the ship of an independent sea captain rather than one of your own vessels. If you could direct us to such a captain and perhaps give us a discreetly worded letter of introduction to him, we can take care of the rest.’
‘Sparhawk,’ Kurik said sharply, looking around the room, ‘what happened to Talen?’
Sparhawk turned quickly. ‘I thought he was bringing up the rear when we came in.’
‘So did I.’
‘Berit,’ Sparhawk said, ‘go and find him.’
‘At once, my Lord.’ The novice hurried from the room.
‘Some problem?’ Lycien asked.
‘A wayward boy, cousin,’ Bevier told him. ‘From what I gather, he needs to be watched rather closely.’
‘Berit will find him.’ Kalten laughed. ‘I have a great deal of confidence in that young man. Talen may come back with a few bumps and contusions, but I’m sure they’ll be very educational for him.’
‘Well, if it’s all under control, then,’ Lycien said, ‘why don’t I send word to the kitchen? I’m sure you’re hungry. And in the meantime, perhaps some wine?’ He assumed a pious expression that was obviously feigned. ‘I know that the Knights of the Church are abstemious, but a touch or so of wine is good for the digestion, or so I’ve heard.’
‘I’ve heard that, too,’ Kalten agreed.
‘Could I prevail upon you for a cup of tea, my Lord?’ Sephrenia asked. ‘And some milk for the little girl? I’m not sure that wine would be good for either of us.’
‘Of course, madame,’ Lycien replied jovially. ‘I should have thought of that myself.’
It was midafternoon when Berit returned with Talen in tow. ‘He was down near the harbour,’ the novice reported, still firmly holding the boy by the neck of his tunic. ‘I searched him thoroughly. He hadn’t had time to steal anything.’
‘I just wanted to look at the sea,’ the boy protested. ‘I’ve never seen the sea before.’
Kurik was grimly removing his wide leather belt.
‘Now, wait a minute, Kurik,’ Talen said, struggling to free himself from Berit’s grasp. ‘You wouldn’t really do that, would you?’
‘Watch me.’
‘I
