Free The Survivors by Dan Willis Page B

why he’s doing it all at once, tonight,” Much explained. “If they’re all in jail by morning, he can tell the people it’s all over. Only a few will protest at that point.”
    Bradok thought of the mob out front. “There’s more than a few gathering outside already,” he said.
    “You don’t understand the kind of power he wields,” Much said, looking around to make sure they weren’t overheard. “Most of the council is with him—”
    “Are you with him?” Bradok said, seizing Much’s arm in a vicelike grip.
    “Don’t be getting ideas,” Much said, a deadly serious note in his voice. “The peace of Ironroot stands on a blade’s edge, and anything could set it off. Just keep your head down in there. You can try to rein in some of the more enthusiastic members of the council, but don’t make a target out of yourself. If they think you’re against them, they’ll turn on you like a pack of wild dogs.”
    Bradok wanted to protest, but something in his gut told him Much had the right of it. He’d have to just bide his time until he could figure out how to tamp it down and help Silas. Much led him around the outer walkway to where their tables stood side by side.
    The council chamber was in an uproar. All around the room, councilmen were yelling to be heard while Mayor Arbuckle pounded his gavel on the lectern for order. In the galleries above, a few citizens who had political pull and others who had eluded the curfew filled the seats. They shouted to one another and to the councilmen below, some of them leaning precariously over the carved railings in an effort to have their opinions heard. In the center of the chamber, a lone dwarf stood, silent and unbent against the cacophony.
    With a shock, Bradok recognized him. It was Argus Deephammer.
    “Silence, I say!” Arbuckle shouted several times before, finally, the voices in the chamber died away. “You’ve been charged with disturbing the peace,” he addressed Argus Deephammer. “Your fearmongering and slander against thiscouncil are directly responsible for rioting in the streets. Do you deny it?”
    “I do,” the dwarf said with stubborn fierceness. “Don’t you see what’s going on around you? You’re losing control of everything. Reorx has abandoned you and left you to your own devices. Now you see that you cannot stand without the aid of your god. You must repent for your godless ways, or we are all lost.”
    “I’ll not tolerate such rock-headed idiocy,” Arbuckle roared, slamming the gavel down for emphasis. “The gullible people of this city have been whipped up into a religious mania by you and others like you. You are an agitator and a public menace, and I’ll not have anyone running around loose in the streets inciting violence.” He pounded the gavel down again.
    “It is the order of this council that you be bound in Dark-lock Prison until such time that you come to your senses and deny your contentious religious fantasies. I don’t care if you stay there till the mountains fall.”
    “Then I won’t be there long,” Argus spat. “You have only a little time left to you, Arbuckle; then you and all those who deny the gods will suffer their wrath.”
    “Don’t tout your adolescent fantasies here,” Bladehook piped up. “We have taken your confederates. Soon there won’t be anyone making trouble in Ironroot so you can blame it on nonexistent gods.”
    “I have no confederates,” Argus shot back.
    “Don’t deny it,” Bladehook said, his face contorting into a mask of hate. “We know about your minions running around the streets with signs and folks like your friend the cooper, who’s building a crazy boat in the Artisans’ Cavern.”
    At this a rumble of laughter ran throughout the chamber. Bradok was watching Argus’s face, and he could have sworn he saw a smile flit across the dwarf’s face.
    “Ah, at least someone is listening,” Argus said softly. “The cooper is wiser than I.”
    “Don’t praise him