now numbered over twenty. Kurr sat with the Haufuth, Mahnum and Indrett at one end of the table, with Leith and Hal to their left, along with Farr and Perdu, an empty seat in their midst to remind them that Stella was not with them. At the other end of the table the Arkhos of Nemohaim and his Captain of the Guard sat side by side, with Achtal the Bhrudwan flanking them to one side and Te Tuahangata on the other. And to their left Prince Wiusago had been joined by Belladonna and Maendraga her father, by the Escaignian woman who sat the slave girl on her lap, and by Phemanderac, who was currently speaking. Geinor and Graig his son sat on the floor behind them.
There came a knock at the door. Indrett opened it to find a woman she knew vaguely from the markets, and more recently from the Ecclesia meetings at the Basement. She held a burning brand in her hand, and a fever burned in her eyes. Indrett searched her mind for a name.
'Pelasia! What can I do for you - and what do you have in your hand?'
'Can't stay, dear,' she breathed excitedly. 'I know you used to go to the Basement branch, so I thought I'd pass on the word: the Most High has commanded us to attack the Council of Faltha! If you can still hear the Most High in your heart, He will confirm the truth of it.'
'Pellie!' came a cry from somewhere out on the darkening street. 'Come on! We'll miss the excitement!'
'Think about it,' the madwoman added. 'The world is changing, and we're the ones changing it!'
'Come on, Mother!' the voice called, and a hand reached out and pulled her away before she could say another word.
'Did you hear that?' Indrett asked the room. 'Something awful is about to happen.'
'Something awful has been happening all day,' a wheezy voice said from the far end of the table. 'My city is under attack from within, and I know who's responsible for it. I've listened to your stories with patience, forbearing to correct the more grievous of the exaggerations and untruths they contained. Are you willing to repay the courtesy and listen to me, and consider the advice I bring to you?' The Arkhos of Nemohaim adopted an air of studied reason that belied not only all the Company knew about him, but also the glow of excitement in his eyes.
Graig stood, clearing his throat. 'Begging your pardon,' he said diffidently, then waited, looking to Leith.
'You can speak, Graig,' the youth said gently. 'I am no king, and this is no king's court. We're all the same here.'
'But you have princes and chieftains here among you,' his father said incredulously, standing beside his son.
'And the former leader of Instruere,' Leith replied, 'who might have something important to say.'
'Yes, but - but we of Nemohaim know this man, and his behaviour and appetites shame us all.
He was able to coerce the king to appoint him as ambassador to the Council of Faltha, and now we learn he has betrayed us to Bhrudwo. He is ever scheming, ever on the watch for any advantage he can find. We dare not trust him!'
'1 wondered where I remembered you and your brat from,' the Arkhos replied amiably. 'The king's old counsellor, ever timid, and his famous offspring, so skilled with the blade he once stabbed himself in the foot without even unsheathing his sword. Did they put you out on the Southern Patrol where you could do no harm?'
Graig tried to restrain his anger. 'I was the first of Nemohaim to behold the Jugom Ark in its glory, and to look on the face of he who carries it. I could do this because 1 was not in Instruere plotting against my king!'
'Ah, but as a result of your.. . goodness, you have no insight into what is happening in Instruere today. I do. Many things Deorc said now begin to make sense, and I see his plans.
Now, youngster, for once in your futile life you might actually have some power. You can prevent these people listening to what I have to say. Tell them all the stories you know, about me, and make up some new ones to go along-side them. Nothing will surprise them.
W. Michael Gear, Kathleen O’Neal Gear
Joseph Lance Tonlet, Louis Stevens