The Diamond Throne

palace.
    ‘Sir Knight,’ the guard called after him.
    Sparhawk did not turn, but continued on up the stairs. There were two blue-liveried guards at the top, older men, he noted, men he thought he recognized. One of the guards’ eyes widened, then he suddenly grinned. ‘Welcome back, Sir Sparhawk,’ he said, pulling the door open for the black-armoured knight.
    Sparhawk gave him a slow wink and went on inside, his mail-shod feet and his spurs clinking on the polished flagstones. Just beyond the door, he encountered a palace functionary with curled and pomaded hair and wearing a maroon-coloured doublet. ‘I will speak with Lycheas,’ Sparhawk announced in a flat tone. ‘Take me to him.’
    ‘But –’ The man’s face had gone slightly pale. He drew himself up, his expression growing lofty ‘How did you –?’
    ‘Didn’t you hear me, neighbour?’ Sparhawk asked him.
    The man in the maroon doublet shrank back. ‘A-at once, Sir Sparhawk,’ he stammered. He turned then and led the way down the broad central corridor. His shoulders were visibly trembling. Sparhawk noted that the functionary was not leading him towards the throne room, but rather towards the council chamber where King Aldreas had customarily met with his advisors. A faint smile touched the big man’s lips as he surmised that the presence of the young Queen sitting encased in crystal on the throne might have had a dampening effect on her cousin’s attempts to usurp her crown.
    They reached the door to the council chamber and found it guarded by two men wearing the red livery of the church – the soldiers of the Primate Annias. The two automatically crossed their pikes to bar entry to the chamber.
    ‘The Queen’s Champion to see the Prince Regent,’ the functionary said to them, his voice shrill.
    ‘We have had no orders to admit the Queen’s Champion,’ one of them declared.
    ‘You have now,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘Open the door.’
    The man in the maroon doublet made a move as if to scurry away, but Sparhawk caught his arm. ‘I haven’t dismissed you yet, neighbour,’ he said. Then he looked at the guards. ‘Open the door,’ he repeated.
    It hung there for a long moment, while the guards looked first at Sparhawk and then nervously at each other. Then one of them swallowed hard and, fumbling with his pike, he reached for the door handle.
    ‘You’ll need to announce me,’ Sparhawk told the man whose arm he still held firmly in his gauntleted fist. ‘We wouldn’t want to surprise anyone, would we?’
    The man’s eyes were a little wild. He stepped into the open doorway and cleared his throat. ‘The Queen’s Champion,’ he blurted with his words tumbling out over each other. ‘The Pandion Knight, Sir Sparhawk.’
    ‘Thank you, neighbour,’ Sparhawk said. ‘You can go now.’
    The functionary bolted.
    The council chamber was very large and was carpeted and draped in blue. Large candelabras lined the walls, and there were more candles on the long, polished table in the centre of the room. Three men sat at the table with documents before them, but the fourth had half-risen from his chair.
    The man on his feet was the Primate Annias. The churchman had grown leaner in the ten years since Sparhawk had last seen him, and his face looked grey and emaciated. His hair was tied back from his face and was now shot with silver. He wore a long black cassock, and the bejewelled pendant of his office as Primate of Cimmura hung from a thick gold chain about his neck. His eyes were wide with surprised alarm as Sparhawk entered the room.
    The Earl of Lenda, a white-haired man in his seventies, was dressed in a soft grey doublet, and he was grinning openly, his bright blue eyes sparkling in his lined face. The Baron Harparin, a notorious pederast, sat with an astonished expression on his face. His clothing was a riot of conflicting colours. Seated next to him was a grossly fat man in red whom Sparhawk did not recognize.
    ‘Sparhawk!’ Annias said sharply, recovering from his surprise, ‘what are you doing here?’
    ‘I understand that you’ve been looking for me, your Grace,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘I thought I’d save you some trouble.’
    ‘You’ve broken your exile, Sparhawk,’ Annias accused angrily
    ‘That’s one of the things we need to talk about. I’m told that Lycheas the bastard is functioning as Prince Regent until the Queen regains her health. Why don’t you send for him so we won’t have to go through all this