The Diamond Throne - Page 112/124

‘Where’s your tame Damork, Martel?’ Sephrenia asked suddenly.

He looked only slightly surprised, and he recovered instantly ‘I really haven’t the slightest idea, little mother,’ he replied. ‘It comes to me without being summoned, so I never know when it’s going to turn up. Perhaps it returned to the place it came from. It has to do that every so often, you know.’

‘I’ve never been that curious about the creatures of the underworld.’

‘That could be a serious oversight.’

‘Perhaps.’

Arasham stirred on his cushions and opened his eyes. ‘Did I doze off?’ he asked.

‘Only briefly, Most Holy,’ Martel said. ‘It gave Sparhawk and me time to renew our friendship. We had much to discuss.’

‘Very much,’ Sparhawk agreed. He hesitated slightly, but then decided that Martel was so sure of himself that he’d probably miss the significance of the question. ‘You mentioned a talisman during your sermon, holy one,’ he said to Arasham. ‘Might we be permitted to see it?’

The holy relic? Of course.’ The old man fumbled inside his robe and drew out something that appeared to be a twisted lump of bone. He held it out proudly. ‘Do you know what this is, Sparhawk?’ he asked.

‘No, Most Holy. I’m afraid not.’

‘The blessed Eshand began life as a shepherd, you know.’

‘Yes, I’d heard so.’

‘One day when he was quite young, a ewe in his flock gave birth to a pure white lamb that was like none other he had ever seen. Unlike all other sheep of that breed, this infant ram bore horns upon its head. It was, of course, a sign from God. The pure lamb, obviously, symbolized the blessed Eshand himself, and the fact that the lamb was horned could only mean one thing – that Eshand had been chosen to chastise the Church for her iniquity’

‘How mysterious are the ways of God,’ Sparhawk marvelled.

Truly, my son. Truly Eshand cared for the ram most tenderly, and in time it began to speak to him, and its voice was the voice of God Himself. And thus God instructed Eshand in that which he must do. This holy relic is a piece of the horn of that very ram. Now you can see why it has such enormous power’

‘Clearly, Most Holy,’ Sparhawk said in a reverent tone of voice. ‘Come closer, little sister,’ he said to Sephrenia. ‘View this miraculous relic.’

She stepped forward and looked intently at the twisted bit of horn in Arasham’s hand. ‘Remarkable,’ she murmured. She glanced at Sparhawk, shaking her head almost imperceptibly.

The bitter taste of disappointment filled his mouth.

The power of this talisman will overcome all the concerted might of the accursed Church Knights and their foul witchcraft,’ Arasham declared. ‘God Himself has told me so.’ He smiled almost shyly ‘I have discovered a truly remarkable thing,’ he told them confidentially ‘When I am alone, I can lift the holy relic to my ear and hear the voice of God. Thus He instructs me even as He instructed the blessed Eshand.’

‘A miracle!’ Martel said in mock amazement.

‘Is it not?’ Arasham beamed.

‘We are quite overcome with gratitude that you have consented to let us view the talisman, Most Holy,’ Sparhawk said, ‘and we will spread word of it throughout the kingdoms of the north, won’t we, Martel?’

‘Oh, of course, of course’ Martel’s face was slightly puzzled and he was looking suspiciously at Sparhawk.

‘I perceive now that our coming here is a part of God’s design,’ Sparhawk continued. ‘It is our mission to tell all the kingdoms of the north of this miracle through every village and at every crossroads. Even now I feel the spirit of God infusing my tongue with eloquence so that I might better describe what I have seen.’ He reached out and clapped Martel on the left shoulder – quite firmly ‘Don’t you feel it as well, dear brother?’ he asked enthusiastically

Martel winced slightly, and Sparhawk could feel the shoulder shrinking from under his hand. ‘Why, yes,’ Martel admitted in a slightly pained voice, ‘as a matter of fact, I believe I do.’

‘Wondrous is the might of God!’ Arasham exulted.

‘Yes,’ Martel said, rubbing at his shoulder, ‘wondrous.’

The idea had been slow in coming, in part perhaps because of the surprise of once again seeing Martel, but now it all began to fall into place Sparhawk was suddenly glad that Martel was here. ‘And now, Most Holy,’ he said, ‘let me give you the remainder of his Majesty’s message to you.’

‘Of course. My ears are open to you.’

‘His Majesty commands me to implore you to give him time to marshal his forces before you move against the venal Church here in Rendor. He must move with caution in his mobilization because the Hierocracy in Chyrellos has spies everywhere. He wishes devoutly to aid you, but the Church is powerful, and he must mass sufficient force to overcome her might in Deira at one stroke, lest she recover and crush him. It is his thought that should you mount your campaign here in the south at the same time he mounts his in the north, the Church will be confounded, not knowing which way to turn, and by moving swiftly you both may take advantage of her confusion and win victory after victory. The impact of these victories will dishearten and demoralize the forces of the Church, and you may both march triumphant upon Chyrellos.’

‘Praise God!’ Arasham exclaimed, starting to his feet and brandishing his sheep’s horn like a weapon.

Sparhawk raised one hand. ‘But,’ he cautioned, ‘this grand design, which can only have come from God Himself, has no chance of success unless you and his Majesty attack simultaneously.’

‘I can see that, of course. God’s own voice has instructed me in just such strategy.’

‘I was sure that He had.’ Sparhawk let his face assume an expression of extreme cunning. ‘Now,’ he went on, ‘the Church is as sly as a serpent, and she has ears everywhere. Despite our best efforts to maintain secrecy, she may uncover our plan. Her first recourse has always been deceit.’

‘I have seen that in her,’ Arasham admitted.

‘It may well be that once she has uncovered our plan, she will attempt deception, and what better way to deceive you than to send false messengers to you to declare that his Majesty is in readiness when indeed he is not? Thus the Church could defeat you and your disciples one by one.’