2e. After the Show

[Prologue: Some Days, Episode 1, Episode 2a, Episode 2b, Episode 2c, Episode 2d]

Worldweavers Guildhall and the Renara Council Chamber, Atharin City, Kingdom of Renar, 4 Alana 1507 AC

The duke rose at this point, and gestured to one of his retainers, who placed his cloak about his shoulders. "Well you're going to have to figure your own way out of this one, Ambassador. You might convince my colleagues to bleed themselves dry for you again, but Athar will not give any more than it already does on a daily basis."

While the duke was finishing his oration, two other councillors, including the other youngster and the older sceptic from earlier, rose and gestured for their cloaks. When he was done, the three walked out in near-unison.

Rather predicatbly, the council dissolved into something less than orderly at that point, and the justiciar wisely realised that nothing more was going to get done. That was all right. Tezhla had stated from the outset that he wasn't looking for solutions or help -- he was just being neighbourly.

Krisa and I watched the chaos for a little while, but it wasn't all that interesting. I looked over and noticed that Krisa was looking somewhat sadly at the bottom of his empty popcorn bucket. Here was one of the people who secretly manipulated events in this world -- one of the mythical "They" that feed all the conspiracy theories -- looking like a forlorn child because he was out of popcorn.

I interrupted his solemn contemplation of greasy cardboard. "That was a bit of an overreaction from the Young Duke, wasn't it?"

Krisa started a bit, as if he'd been lost in deeper thoughts -- and maybe he had. "A bit, but not much. Duke Korza was a nephew of the Old Duke. The Old Duke and all his heirs died from the plague the Korza mentioned. While Korza and his retainers fled to the deep north, the Old Duke and his family waded into the fray of actually trying to help, both north and south. Thus we have one of the classic, sad ironies of history: a good, wise man and his enlightened household were largely destroyed doing the admirable thing, while his cowardly relations survived to inherit."

I noticed Tezhla making his farewells and preparing to depart the chamber. "I suppose you've already asked the ambassador to come here, next?"

Krisa smiled. "There was no need. At this point, it's habit. He'll deny to his dying day that he's an agent for anyone but his own government, but he does like to keep us informed. I imagine we'll be seeing the justiciar, as well."

"Really? I thought you avoided such direct involement with high-level government officials."

"The justiciar found us."

"I'm not all that surprised. The Guildhall is not that hard to miss."

"Hiding in plain sight has worked very well for us for several thousand years, William. Most people see what they expect to see. The apothocary and bakery storefronts are all most people notice about this building. The justiciar, however, is one of those clever folks who puts together the clues and hints she sees and hears over the years. She's a skilled huntress, and she neatly tracked us down about three weeks before she was appointed to her current post."

"And she didn't immediately try to run you out of town?"

Krisa laughed. "Hardly. She's also an ambitious woman. She immediately saw the value of being cooperative with our order. She even knows about the talisman embedded in the chandelier in the council chamber."

"Cooperative indeed. The Crown would skin her if they knew she was in bed with you, you know."

Krisa blushed -- a bluish flush to his pale cheeks. I think he's slipping. He never used to blush that easily.

"You realise I intended that as a figure of speech."

Krisa cleared his throat. "Yes, well, anyway, they should be here soon." He banged his staff and muttered again and the council room went away, replaced again by his office.

I smiled and took his emtpy popcorn bucket from him, nesting it my own, and wandered off to dispose of them and let him recover his dignity.