The Diamond Throne

first knight declared.
    ‘Truly,’ the second agreed, ‘and shall we then – uh –’ He faltered, frowning.
    ‘– Grant him entry into the house of the Soldiers of God,’ Sparhawk prompted.
    The second knight made a face. ‘I can never remember that part,’ he muttered. ‘Thanks, Sparhawk.’ He cleared his throat and began again. ‘Truly,’ he said, ‘and shall we then grant him entry into the house of the Soldiers of God?’
    The first knight was grinning openly. ‘It is his right freely to enter this house,’ he said, ‘for he is one of us. Hail, Sir Sparhawk. Prithee, come within the walls of this house, and may peace abide with thee beneath its roof.’
    ‘And with thee and thy companion as well, wheresoever you may fare,’ Sparhawk replied, concluding the ceremony
    ‘Welcome home, Sparhawk,’ the first knight said warmly then. ‘You’ve been a long time away’
    ‘You noticed,’ Sparhawk answered. ‘Did Kurik get here?’
    The second knight nodded. ‘An hour or so ago. He talked with Vanion and then left again.’
    ‘Let’s go inside,’ Sparhawk suggested. ‘I need a large dose of that peace you mentioned earlier, and I’ve got to see Vanion.’
    The two knights turned their horses, and the three rode together back across the drawbridge.
    ‘Is Sephrenia still here?’ Sparhawk asked.
    ‘Yes,’ the second knight replied. ‘She and Vanion came from Demos shortly after the Queen fell ill, and she hasn’t gone back to the motherhouse yet.’
    ‘Good. I need to talk with her as well.’
    The three of them halted at the castle gate. This is Sir Sparhawk, a member of our order,’ the first knight declared to the two who had remained at the gate. ‘We have confirmed his identity and vouch for his right to enter the house of the Knights Pandion.’
    ‘Pass then, Sir Sparhawk, and may peace abide with thee whilst thou remain within this house.’
    ‘I thank thee, Sir Knight, and may peace also be thine.’
    The knights drew their mounts aside, and Faran moved forward without any urging.
    ‘You know the ritual as well as I do, don’t you?’ Sparhawk murmured.
    Faran flicked his ears.
    In the central courtyard, an apprentice knight who had not yet been vested with his ceremonial armour or spurs hurried forward and took Faran’s reins. ‘Welcome, Sir Knight,’ he said.
    Sparhawk hooked his shield to his saddlebow and swung down from Faran’s back with his armour clinking. ‘Thank you,’ he replied. ‘Do you have any idea of where I might find Lord Vanion?’
    ‘I believe he’s in the south tower, my Lord.’
    ‘Thanks again.’ Sparhawk started across the courtyard, then stopped. ‘Oh, be careful of the horse,’ he warned. ‘He bites.’
    The novice looked startled and then cautiously stepped away from the big, ugly roan, though still firmly holding the reins.
    The horse gave Sparhawk a flat, unfriendly stare.
    ‘It’s more sporting this way, Faran,’ Sparhawk explained. He started up the worn steps that led into the centuries-old castle.
    The inside of the chapterhouse was cool and dim, and the few members of the order Sparhawk met in those halls wore cowled monk’s robes, as was customary inside a secure house, although an occasional steely clink betrayed the fact that, beneath their humble garb, the members of this order wore chain mail and were inevitably armed. There were no greetings exchanged, and the cowled brothers of Pandion went resolutely about their duties with bowed heads and shadowed faces.
    Sparhawk put the flat of his hand out in front of one of the cowled men. Pandions seldom touched each other. ‘Excuse me, brother,’ he said. ‘Do you know if Vanion is still in the south tower?’
    ‘He is,’ the other knight replied.
    ‘Thank you, brother. Peace be with you.’
    ‘And with you, Sir Knight.’
    Sparhawk went on along the torchlit corridor until he came to a narrow stairway which wound up into the south tower between walls of massive, unmortared stones. At the top of the stairs there was a heavy door guarded by two young Pandions. Sparhawk did not recognize either of them. ‘I need to talk with Vanion,’ he told them. ‘The name is Sparhawk.’
    ‘Can you identify yourself?’ one of them asked, trying to make his youthful voice sound gruff.
    ‘I’ve just done so.’
    It hung there while the two young knights struggled to find a graceful way out of the situation. ‘Why not justopen the door and tell Vanion that I’m here?’