by Sharon Hinck
“Mark, could you send Wade to get a new tunic for me?” I pushed the sheet aside and levered myself to my feet. “What is the Council discussing right now?”
He hurried over to me, opening his mouth to argue.
I held up a hand to interrupt him. “Mark, we’ll go crazy if we try to figure this out. I feel fine, and we have work to do.”
He pressed his lips together, holding back his obvious objections. Finally, his shoulders hunched with resignation. “I think they were moving on to a protest against Cameron for removing the Records to Lyric.”
I wrapped the warm sheet around me like a cloak and smiled at the healer. “Thanks for your help. Can I keep this?”
She nodded, a bit dazed at having a patient walk around minutes after having a knife removed from her heart. Mark walked her to the door and paused to talk to Wade.
I stared at the closed door into the inner Council chamber and focused my hearing.
“We have no idea what Kahlarea is planning, and we know that Hazor’s power is beyond anything we can fight.” It was Cameron’s voice raised in protest. “Lyric is the best place to keep our historic treasures. The Council Guard could protect them if they were all in one place.” Several other voices shouted in disagreement, and Landon struggled to maintain order.
Then I made out Jorgen’s rich bass voice. “If your Council Guard is so good at protecting them, how is it they were returned to us so quickly?”
“Who returned them to you?” Cameron demanded.
“You need to be answering our questions, not asking them, Councilmember. You are the one who took unauthorized action. There is not one chief councilmember here that will support your wishes to keep all the Records in Lyric.”
“I admit I acted in haste, but only out of a desire to protect the Records. Of course I was planning to return them to each of you if you disagreed with my decision,” Cameron said.
Mark came to stand behind me.
“Cameron is back-pedaling fast,” I said, grinning. Then my smile faded. “He’s lost his Rhusican allies, and his plan to change the Records didn’t work. He’s going to hate us.”
Mark reached up to massage the muscles in my shoulders. “But he’s losing his power in the Council. He won’t be able to hurt you.”
I could tell Mark was trying to convince himself more than me, but I leaned back against him and tried to believe him.
“Susan?” He turned me to face him. “Everyone in there saw you take a dagger to the heart. If you go back in, they will all know that you are the Restorer. I don’t know why Cameron didn’t tell them. Maybe he thought it would give you too much credibility. At any rate, there’s no hiding it now.”
Determination bolstered my courage. I met Mark’s eyes. “Then it’s time for them to know the truth. We need to get back in there before they start discussing Braide Wood and Hazor.”
“They’ll be taking a break soon. We’ll get cleaned up and go in then. Jorgen can address the Council when the time is right.”
I was happy to follow his advice on how to approach the Council. Most of their operating procedures were inexplicable to me.
Mark’s brows lowered. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
He nodded and gathered me into a gentle hug. I stayed in his arms until Wade returned with a new tunic for me.
“Braide Wood requests the help of the Council.” The Braide Wood Council chief had a voice as thin as his fragile frame. Then he recounted the message that Nolan had delivered. I was amazed once again at the skill these people had for memorizing. Nolan had recited the threat and terms to Tristan. Tristan gave the information to a messenger who traveled to Lyric and reported to the Braide Wood Council chief. As far as I could remember them, he had the terms down word for word. I hated hearing them again and shifted in my chair, careful to stay hidden.
When Jorgen and the other Rendor councilmembers had come out for a break, Mark had quickly explained why I was on my feet and relatively whole. Watching the play of emotions on Jorgen’s face gave me a good indication of what I’d face in the Council. He was awed and glad that I had survived. But his eyes darted to Mark, his mind clearly on the prophecy that had seemed to say Mikkel’s son would be the next Restorer. As Mark explained further, Jorgen measured me with his eyes, and he couldn’t hide his disappointment. The People needed a Restorer/guardian to protect their borders. Instead, Jorgen saw a thin slip of a woman with little training or skill. His doubts were evident. Perhaps this time the One had made a mistake.
Still, he agreed to present my claim at the appropriate time, which would enable me to speak to the Council. To avoid further disruption of the session, when the Rendor group entered the inner chamber, I was tucked in the back row again, sandwiched between Mark and another tall man. Others in the low balconies would only see one more rust-clad shape in the background.
“. . . unless, within the time of twenty days, Braide Wood delivers tribute to Zarek, King of Hazor, in Sidian.” He was wrapping up. “The tribute demanded is for you to give each Braide Wood child of fewer than twelve years to Sidian as a surety. Deliver them before nightfall of the twentieth day, and they will live and Braide Wood will be unharmed. If the tribute is not met, they will die along with every other soul in Braide Wood.”
“How strong is Hazor? Do we have enough guardians to defend Braide Wood?” Jorgen asked.
“What good will a few hundred guardians do against their weapons? Even if we matched their numbers, it would be hopeless,” another chief councilmember spoke out.
“How many children would it be? It seems like a small price to pay to maintain peace with Hazor,” someone else interrupted.
I stiffened, but Mark patted my knee, and I squeezed my lips together to keep from blurting out an argument.
The Shamgar Council chief rose to his feet. “Raise an army and attack Hazor now.”
I was surprised to find myself on the same side of an issue with him. The People of the Verses couldn’t surrender their children. The One promised them protection if they turned to Him. There had to be a way to hold back the Hazorite armies.
“The Shamgar Council chief certainly knows what can happen to a clan that Hazor decides to attack.” Cameron crossed his arms and projected his charisma. He was almost as dangerous as the Rhusicans.
“That happened because Shamgar forgot the Verses,” I hissed.
“Shh,” Mark warned.
Cameron leaned forward with an oily smile. “With the aid of the chief councilmembers of Shamgar and of Corros Fields, I have anticipated this danger and have been able to buy syncbeams for our use. I have a team of transtechs studying them and reproducing more as well. We will soon be on equal footing with the nations around us, able to defend or even expand our borders.” Lyric’s chief councilmember had bounced back from the earlier rebuke of the Council. His voice was thick with pride as he presented himself as the forward-thinking hero who could provide the solution to this problem. But the Verses forbade everything Cameron had been doing. “Of course, it will take several seasons to be fully armed, so I agree that for the time being, it makes sense to surrender the children. Choose two guardians to escort them to Sidian and be sure that they arrive safely.”
The room buzzed with discussion, every cluster of councilmembers taking time to deliberate within their delegation. After a time, Landon asked each chief councilmember to present the opinion of their clan.
I was dismayed to hear how much consensus was growing to appease Hazor until the People could build up more strength. They would address the issue of developing long-range weapons later—there was still lively disagreement about that—but Landon seemed ready to call a vote on the issue of Hazor’s demands.
When Cameron rose to speak, he thanked everyone for supporting his suggestion—again revealing his power to sway the Council, even w
ithout a Rhusican to help him cloud minds. “In my trade negotiations with the people of Hazor, I have found them to be an enlightened nation, and it will be a benefit to both our peoples to send children to live within their borders. I’m sure that it will open the door for an ongoing relationship with Hazor. We need their alliance to hold Kahlarea back beyond the River Borders. Think of it as a kind of apprenticeship, as the Braide Wood children have the opportunity to learn new things to benefit all of the clans one day.”
I didn’t want to embarrass Jorgen by breaking more rules, but I couldn’t listen to this anymore. I leaned forward, about to push myself to my feet, when I heard someone across the room gasp, “Look!”
“Except that isn’t what Hazor plans for your children,” said a cold, clear voice. I knew that voice.
Most of the heads turned toward one of the empty balconies held open for the two clans that had withdrawn from the Council years ago. The light-walls for those two segments of the tower were off, and darkness shielded the cloaked and hooded man until he stepped forward toward the railing.
“Identify yourself,” Landon shouted, as murmurs of surprise, anger, and speculation grew throughout the chamber.
“Kieran of Braide Wood,” he said, calmly ignoring the uproar he was causing.
Mark and I gasped in unison. How did he get here? How had he escaped the Lyric guardians? He must have slipped through the unused clan office, but how had he made it into the chamber unseen? Landon looked over to the skinny Braide Wood Council chief, who shook his head.
“He is not under our sponsorship,” he stammered, not wanting blame for this unexpected interruption. “He did not petition us.”
“Then he has no right to speak. Remove him.” Two Council guards marched toward the dark balcony.
Kieran ran down the ramp to the center of the tower, drawing his sword and tossing aside his cloak. “If you won’t hear me as a son of Braide Wood, then I claim audience as a representative of Hazor.” He wore a short grey tunic with a jagged black emblem across the chest, and he kept his sword raised. His eyes still looked glassy with fever, and his angular face projected a dangerous force of will. The Council guards looked to Landon, not eager to advance on Kieran. The tableau froze for a moment while a flustered Landon took a few steps back.
“All right,” he decided at last, gesturing the guards back. “If you can support your claim, we will hear you.”
The whole Council burst into conversation now, so it was easy for me to talk to Mark without risk of discovery. “What on earth is he doing?”
“Clever.” Mark leaned forward and watched the action in the middle of the room. “It forces the Council to allow him to speak. But if he claims to represent Hazor now, he’s renouncing his place in Braide Wood clan and the People.”
I knew Kieran had isolated himself from his people and was estranged from his father. But I had seen him looking down on the rooftops of his village with his soul in his eyes. He loved his clan. What could drive him to do this?
“I am Hazorite by birth, on my mother’s side. I have spent the recent days in Sidian. I am here to tell you exactly what Zarek plans for your children.” Kieran’s eyes burned as he glared at the Braide Wood delegation.
“We will hear you.” Landon backed away slowly as if he were in the presence of a rabid dog. “But you are no messenger under flag of truce. We will hear you, but we will not guarantee amnesty.”
“Fine.” Kieran sheathed his sword in a fluid motion. He was clearly long past caring what would happen to him after this. All he focused on was this opportunity to address the Council.
“Honored councilmembers.” He used the correct terms and almost managed to hide his sarcasm. “You are debating something you know nothing about.”
More murmurs rumbled though the room. Wearing the emblem of Hazor, interrupting the Council, and now insulting them—he wasn’t winning friends here.
“Hazor worships the hill gods.” The room quieted in confusion at this detour in his speech. What did that have to do with anything? “Until Shamgar fell, Hazor feared the rumors of the One who was all-powerful and protected the People of the Verses. They stayed behind their borders. They heard about the Restorers that had been sent to drive back Kahlarea. And they waited. But once they were able to defeat Shamgar, their thinking changed. During his reign, Zarek has called all of Hazor to serve the hill gods with new fervor, in preparation for conquering both the People and Kahlarea.”
Most of the faces around the room looked as confused as I felt.
“But Zarek had a problem.” Kieran turned slowly, addressing each part of the tower. “The hill gods require frequent sacrifices, and that didn’t fit well with Zarek’s plan to build an army.” He paused and waited for a response, but the councilmembers shifted and looked at each other, bewildered.
“Idiots,” Kieran snapped under his breath. Then he spoke loudly again. “The Hazorites sacrifice their children to the hill gods.” He paused to watch the councilmembers recoil. “To build his next generation of armies, Zarek needs a new source for the sacrifices. That’s why he has demanded a tribute of children from Braide Wood.”
“No.” A man from Blue Knoll stood, seeming more offended by Kieran revealing the facts than by the facts themselves. “That can’t be true.”
“I was there. I heard Zarek’s plans,” Kieran answered, expressionless.
“We would have heard something if this were really going on,” a woman in one of the balconies protested.
“No one here has had dealings with Hazor.” Kieran rubbed his right temple. “Except Cameron, and it didn’t suit his purposes to tell you . . . if he even bothered to find out.”
Cameron stayed silent, and discussion swirled around the room again.
“I’ve seen it,” Kieran said, his jaw clenching. “I’ve seen them bind their own children and drag them into their dark temple. And they let the children know what’s going to come. They want them to scream. They believe it gets the attention of the hill gods.”
I sank back into my seat, stomach roiling. Nolan had told me about Hazor’s plans and the growing boldness of his nation. It made sense. But as I glanced around the tower, I saw that most people were too shocked to believe Kieran.
He saw it too. He pulled himself up taller. “There’s more.”
The conversation stopped and all eyes turned to him again.
“Shamgar was destroyed when I was young. We were taught the story about the destruction and how every adult was killed and the children were carried away. Both Tristan and I had cousins among the children who were taken. After I grew up, I decided to search for them. Against the wishes of my clan and my family, I began to travel into Hazor, trying to find out what happened to the Shamgar children. That’s when I found out they all had been used in sacrifices years earlier.”
“You’ve already declared yourself to be a Hazorite and enemy of our people.” Landon stepped forward, showing irritation that once again the Council meeting had spiraled out of his control. “We have no one’s word but your own.”
Kieran was in an impossible position. He’d worked in secret for so long that he had no one to vouch for him.
“You have my word.” Tristan stepped forward from the back rows of the Braide Wood Council balcony, his commanding voice edged with exhaustion.
How many other people were hiding in the wings today? I grinned.
Landon’s expression turned livid at yet another disruption. “Identify your—”
“I am Tristan, captain of the guardians of Braide Wood.” More buzzing hit the room, but before Landon could object, Tristan continued. “I am here at the request of the Council. I was asked to search the River Borders by Cauldron Falls and bring a report to the Council.”
“But you aren’t scheduled to report for several days.”
“I’m early,” Tristan said dryly. He left the balcony, lim
ping heavily as he walked down the ramp. He looked as if he hadn’t slept since I saw him last. Though he was battered, grubby, and very cranky, it was wonderful to see him.
He stood beside his friend. I could hear Kieran’s angry whisper, though his lips didn’t move. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Tristan returned his glare and spoke almost inaudibly through gritted teeth. “I’m helping.” Then Tristan addressed Landon. “Although I am here to give my report, the Council will surely allow me also to give testimony where it is needed. I’ve known about Kieran’s trips into Hazor for several years—”
“More evidence that Tristan is unfit to be a guardian!” Cameron shouted. “He was aware of these illegal acts and didn’t report them.” But everyone was too anxious to find out the truth, and they ignored Cameron.
“Everything Kieran told you is true.” Tristan paused to let that sink in. Dismay hit the surrounding faces as they lost their last hope of denial. “You cannot surrender the children to Hazor.” Tristan planted his feet, rested his hand on his sword hilt, and took a deep breath. “Who will stand with Braide Wood?”
Heavy silence fell over the room. This was the moment when the clans should leap to their feet and offer unified support. Instead, someone coughed; someone else shuffled his feet.
It looked like Kieran’s assessment was correct. They were a bunch of idiots. I pushed to my feet and elbowed my way to the railing. “I will!” I drew my sword and lifted it.
All eyes turned toward me, and gasps sounded from every direction. Landon looked apoplectic at yet another interruption.
“In every time of great need, a Restorer is sent to fight for the people and help the guardians,” I recited. “‘The Restorer is empowered with gifts to defeat our enemies and turn the people’s hearts back to the Verses.’ I stand with Braide Wood and the People of the Verses.”
As far as dramatic entrances go, I thought it was very effective.
