Free Wintercraft: Legacy by Jenna Burtenshaw Page B

through our streets, our homes, and our lives. She plans to bring chaos to Albion and she must be stopped.’
    As Silas spoke, he studied every face in front of him. He was looking for clues: any sign that Dalliah’s appearance came as no surprise to someone in that room. If what he had heard from his sources was true, someone had wheedled their way into power even more deviously than most. An enemy agent had infiltrated the council’s chambers. One person sitting at that ruling table had been working for the Blackwatch all along.
    ‘I am here to offer my services in defence of the city,’he continued. ‘People are afraid, and they have good reason to be. Until you accept what is happening, you will be of no use to them. The veil will fall, and you will lose control.’
    ‘Why do you care if we “lose control”?’ asked one of the seated men.
    ‘Because the leaders of the Continent are preparing to move against us. Rumours have spread that Fume is weak. There is talk of sickness within its walls and people are beginning to distrust your rule. The Continental leaders see this as the perfect time to attack. If you do not act, you will lose this city. The war will be over. They will have won.’
    ‘That will never happen. Fume is ours. We will defend it!’
    ‘Then you must prepare. Now.’
    A third councilman, his confidence bolstered by the presence of the wardens in the room, stood up. ‘That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,’ he said.
    ‘It is the truth.’
    ‘I see no armies on the horizon. There has been no word of attacks upon our southernmost towns for days.’
    ‘No competent leader would waste time on smaller towns when our capital is weak,’ said Silas.
    The third councilman raised a thin smile. ‘Then we are perfectly safe,’ he said. ‘Our enemies have already proven that they are far from competent.’
    More nervous smiles spread around the room, fuelled by the arrogance of fools.
    ‘Every battle against the Continent has been hard won,’ said Silas. ‘Their leaders will not waste this chance to strike at the heart of our lands. The wardens on the wallsare disorganised and unobservant. They are not used to being challenged. When the armies come we will need to provide greater resistance than we have raised so far. I will hunt down Dalliah Grey, but I cannot protect this city on two fronts. I need men and women who are willing to fight and I need them to be ready. I am here because my duty is always to Albion. As is yours.’
    The outspoken councilman folded his arms and shook his head, raising his eyebrows in mock concern. ‘This is all very interesting,’ he said. ‘Unfortunately, your “duty” extends to one action alone. You are a traitor, a murderer and a criminal. You have no right to stand in this room and address this council as an equal. You are an insect, worthy of nothing more than being crushed under my heel.’
    The room waited silently for Silas to react. He unbuckled his scabbard from his belt and passed it, sword and all, to Edgar, who held it carefully and backed away.
    ‘Then you surrender yourself?’ The councilman’s mouth twitched with victory and he signalled for the wardens to close in. No one moved. ‘Take him!’
    One warden stepped forward, sliding a silver dagger slowly from its sheath. No matter who had given the order, Edgar could not believe anyone would be foolish enough to act upon it. But instead of approaching Silas, the warden walked up to Edgar and passed him his weapon before standing to attention at his side.
    ‘What is going on here?’ The councilman’s smile twisted into rage.
    Two more wardens joined the first. Then five more, all placing their daggers on the ground at Edgar’s feet.
    ‘You have already lost control,’ said Silas. ‘You have lost the respect of those who serve you. You have lived in decadence for too long while your own people suffer to keep you in power. You have allowed yourselves to neglect what should