The Diamond Throne

is a child, hardly more than a baby.’
    The little girl made a face at him.
    He ignored that and went on. ‘She suddenly appeared in an uninhabited region near the Arcian border far from any kind of human habitation. We tried to leave her at that nunnery south of Darra, and she not only managed to escape but also got a goodly distance ahead of us even though we were travelling at a gallop. Then she somehow managed to persuade Faran to let her on his back, and Faran won’t let anybody near him except me unless I tell him to. When she met Dolmant, you could tell by his face that he sensed something very unusual about her. Not only that, you bully full-grown knights like a drill-sergeant, but any time Flute decides to do something or go someplace, you give in without a fight. Wouldn’t you say that all of that suggests that she’s not an ordinary child?’
    ‘You’re the one who’s exercising this logic. I wouldn’t dream of interfering.’
    ‘All right then. Let’s see where logic takes us. I’ve seen a fair number of Styrics. With the exception of you and the other magicians, they’re all fairly primitive and not very bright, no offence intended, of course.’
    ‘Of course.’ Her expression was amused.
    ‘Since we’ve already established the fact that Flute is not an ordinary child, what does that leave us?’
    ‘What would be your guess, Sparhawk?’
    ‘Since she’s not ordinary, she must be special. In Styricum, that can only mean one thing. She’s a magician. Nothing else could explain her.’
    She applauded ironically. ‘Excellent, Sparhawk,’ she congratulated him.
    ‘But that’s impossible, Sephrenia. She’s only a child. She hasn’t had time to learn the secrets.’
    ‘Some few are born with that knowledge. Besides, she’s older than she looks.’
    ‘How old?’
    ‘You know that I won’t tell you that. The knowledge of the exact moment of one’s birth can be a powerful weapon in the hands of an enemy.’
    A disturbing thought came to him. ‘You’re preparing for your own death, aren’t you, Sephrenia? If we fail, the twelve Pandions who were in the throne room with you will die one by one, and then you’ll die, too. You’re preparing Flute to be your successor.’
    She laughed. ‘Now that, dear Sparhawk, is a very interesting idea. I’m surprised you came up with it, considering the fact that you’re an Elene.’
    ‘That’s a very irritating habit you’ve picked up lately, you know? Don’t try to be mysterious with me, Sephrenia, and don’t treat me like a child just because I’m an Elene’
    ‘I’ll try to remember that. You’ll agree to let her come with us, then?’
    ‘Do I have any choice?’
    ‘No. As a matter of fact, you don’t.’
    They rose early the next morning and gathered in the dew-drenched yard in front of Marquis Lycien’s house.The newly risen sun was very bright, and it slanted down through the trees, casting the peculiarly bluish-coloured shadows of early morning.
    ‘I’ll get word to you from time to time,’ Sparhawk told those who were remaining behind.
    ‘Be careful down there, Sparhawk,’ Kalten said.
    ‘I’m always careful.’ Sparhawk swung himself up onto Faran’s back.
    ‘Godspeed, Sir Sparhawk,’ Bevier said.
    Thank you, Bevier.’ Sparhawk looked around at the other knights. ‘Don’t be so glum, gentlemen,’ he told them. ‘If we’re lucky, this won’t take very long.’ He looked at Kalten again. ‘If you run into Martel, give him my regards.’
    Kalten nodded. ‘With an axe in the face, I think.’
    Marquis Lycien mounted a fat bay horse and led the way out onto the road which passed his house. The morning was crisp, though not actually cold. Spring, Sparhawk decided, was not very far off. He shifted his shoulders slightly. The sober businessman’s doublet Lycien had lent him did not really fit very well. It bound in some places and was uncomfortably loose in others.
    ‘We’ll turn off just up ahead,’ Lycien told them. There’s a track through the woods that leads down to my wharves and the little settlement that’s grown up around them. Will you want me to bring your horses back after you go on board ship?’
    ‘No, my Lord,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘I think we’ll take them with us. We don’t know exactly what’s going to happen in Rendor. We might need dependable mounts, and I’ve seen what passes for a horse in Cippria.’
    What Lycien had modestly called a ‘little settlement’ turned out to