The Diamond Throne

flesh had circulated among the more gullible in Elene society for centuries, and periodically mobs of drunken peasants would descend on unsuspecting Styric villages, bent on massacre The Church vigorously denounced such atrocities. The Church Knights, who had come to know and respect their alien tutors, went perhaps a step further than the Church, letting it be generally known that unprovoked attacks on Styric settlements would result in swift and savage retaliation. Despite such organized protection, however, any Styric who entered an Elene village or town could expect taunts and abuse and, not infrequently, showers of stones and offal. Thus, Sephrenia’s appearance at Demos had not been without personal risks. Her motives for coming had been unclear, but over the years she had served faithfully; to a man the Pandions had come to love and respect her. Even Vanion, the preceptor of the order, frequently sought her counsel.
    Sparhawk looked at the volume lying on the table before her ‘A book, Sephrenia?’ he said in mock amazement. ‘Has Vanion finally persuaded you to learn how to read?’
    ‘You know my beliefs about that practice, Sparhawk,’ she replied. ‘I was merely looking at the pictures.’ She pointed at the brilliant illuminations on the page. ‘I was ever fond of bright colours.’
    Sparhawk drew up a chair and sat, his armour creaking.
    ‘You saw Ehlana?’ Vanion asked, resuming his seat across the table.
    ‘Yes.’ Sparhawk looked at Sephrenia. ‘How did you do that?’ he asked her. ‘Seal her up like that, I mean?’
    ‘It’s a bit complex.’ Then she stopped and gave him a penetrating look. ‘Perhaps you’re ready, at that,’ she murmured. She rose to her feet. ‘Come over here, Sparhawk,’ she said, moving towards the fireplace
    Puzzled, he rose and followed her
    ‘Look into the flames, dear one,’ she said softly, using that odd Styric form of address she had used when he was her pupil.
    Compelled by her voice, he stared at the fire Faintly, he heard her whispering in Styric, and then she passed her hand slowly across the flames. Unthinking, he sank to his knees and stared into the fireplace
    Something was moving in the fire Sparhawk leaned forward and stared hard at the little bluish curls of flame dancing along the edge of a charred oak log. The blue colour expanded, growing larger and larger, and within that nimbus of coruscating blue, he seemed to see a group of figures that wavered as the flame flickered. The image grew stronger, and he realized that he was looking at the semblance of the throne room in the palace, many miles away Twelve armoured Pandions were crossingthe flagstone floor bearing the slight figure of a young girl. She was borne, not upon a litter, but upon the flat sides of a dozen gleaming sword blades held rock-steady by the twelve black-armoured and visored men. They stopped before the throne, and Sephrenia’s white-robed figure stepped out of the shadows. She raised one hand, seeming to say something, though all Sparhawk could hear was the crackling flames. With a dreadful jerking motion, the young girl sat up. It was Ehlana. Her face was distorted and her eyes wide and vacant.
    Without thinking, Sparhawk reached towards her, thrusting his hand directly into the flames.
    ‘No,’ Sephrenia said sharply, pulling his hand back. ‘You may watch only’
    The image of Ehlana, trembling uncontrollably, jerked to its feet, following, it seemed, the unspoken commands of the small woman in the white robe. Imperiously, Sephrenia pointed at the throne, and Ehlana stumbled, even staggered, up the steps of the dais to assume her rightful place.
    Sparhawk wept. He tried once again to reach out to his queen, but Sephrenia held him back with a gentle touch that was strangely like an iron chain. ‘Continue to watch, dear one,’ she told him.
    The twelve knights then formed a circle around the enthroned Queen and the white-robed woman standing at her side. Reverently, they extended their swords so that the two women on the dais were ringed in steel. Sephrenia raised her arms and spoke. Sparhawk could clearly see the strain on her face as she uttered the words of an incantation he could not even begin to imagine.
    The point of each of the twelve swords began to glow and grew brighter and brighter, bathing the dais in intense silvery-white light. The light from those sword tips seemed to coalesce around Ehlana and her throne.Then Sephrenia spoke a single word,