by Larry Crow
Mano’n hurried to his chambers, wondering what he would be doing in the near future. He felt certain Baalsa'n planned to prescribe the next steps in the conflict that was to come. Mano'n hoped he would be able to provide a great deal to that effort.
He heard, through the palace rumors, there were others. Strange what one could learn by listening to the hum of voices in a great beehive such as this.
Many of the desert people had migrated to this place in only a short time, but then what else would they consider in their miserable lives as more important than what was happening here.
This place had only just come to these high plains, and so quickly, was mystery enough for most. But if they knew how it came to be, there would be widespread fear and distrust.
Not the emotions Baalsa'n wants the people to feel right now.
Mano'n knew he would have to give audience soon so he dressed in his finest robes. The one he admired the most was black with a single wide band of gold running down his right side to the floor. Not elegant, but tasteful.
It should do.
A clanging reverberated through the great halls of the
cavern.
The time had come. There would be much discovered today; much about what the future bore for these people and for the chosen.
And for myself and those others, it begins.
He turned and walked from his chamber, into the hall and out toward the throne room.
IMPERIUM
