He wanted to throw back his head and scream his triumph to the skies. He might yet lose the battle, but at least there was going to be a battle. Zinixo would not win by default.
In the Outside world the ambience was growing quieter as the last few stragglers clamored for recognition, eager to be admitted before the Covin retaliated. The archons were still busy, but inducting them in ones and twos now. Whatever was going on in Nordland was still happening and keeping the Covin distracted. Long may it last!
“Your Holiness,” Rap said formally, “I think we are about done recruiting. I suggest you make a speech, welcoming our allies to your land.”
Thaile looked at him sadly. Then she pulled up her hood and became again the inscrutable Keeper, a white-clad enigma. “It would be more fitting if you made that speech, Archon Rap. You are the general and they are your warriors.”
Rap’s heart chilled. “You are not hopeful? You foresee defeat?”
“I cannot, will not, try to read the outcome.”
“How many are we?”
Thaile glanced around. “More than four hundred, but not many more. Make your speech, General.”
Hastily gathering his thoughts, Rap took a last quick glance at the ambience Outside.
Gath squirmed. He was stiff and cold on the gritty stone bench. Above all, he was bored to distraction by the unending speeches. Nothing had been decided or seemed likely to be decided for hours yet. What was happening on this fateful day while he sat here in this shielded madhouse?
The sunlight had already abandoned two windows and was starting to creep in through a third. The shafts were positioned to shed light on the Speaker Stone, and he had decided that this was a very clever device that probably only worked on Longday itself. On other days the sun would not be in the right position. So what?
He had also realized the true purpose of the meeting. These men and women were the loneliest people in the world. All sorcerers were forced to be solitary, but power was especially despised in Nordland, and their duties forced them to live their lives far apart. Once a year the Nintor Moot gave them the chance to meet and be themselves and know others of their own kind. That was why they were all being so atrociously long-winded, and why they wanted to be. He might have to stay here all day!
Longday was living up to its name.
“Go ahead!” whispered a tiny voice in his ear. It came from Jaurg, although he had not moved or spoken aloud.
Gath pondered. Dare he try to address the group? He risked a tiny peek of prescience-and apparently he would be heard. He was their liege, wasn’t he?
What did he have to lose? He’d died once already today. He stood up in the middle of a long digression on the merits of Dad’s new protocol.
The speaker was Gustiag, the older man who had been the second to do homage. He frowned at this insolent interruption. “May I say one thing?” Gath asked quietly, marveling at his own courage.
“I yield to Atheling Gathmor!” Obviously reluctant, Gustiag stepped down but did not return to his seat.
Well!
Gath stalked forward and took the vacant stone.
“I appreciate your courtesy in holding this debate in words for my sake.” he said loudly, “but I’m sure you could get finished faster if you used occult means.”
Silence—very cold silence.
“Is this your father’s command to us?” Gustiag inquired Gath wilted before the sarcasm. “No . . . merely a suggestion of my own . . . I do think the situation is urgent.”
Still no reaction from the onlookers.
He mumbled, “Thank you, er, I have spoken,” and stepped down.
Gustiag took his place. “As I was saying . . .”
Gath slunk back to his seat. Twist smiled mockingly at him. Jaurg was holding hands with Fraftha, a girl of about Gath’s age. As he squeezed into his previous place, Gath realized that this was the kiddies’ corner. The four of them were the youngsters of the group, expected to maintain a respectful silence while their elders debated, and he was the youngest of all. He had been wrong to stand up.
Gustiag ended and recognized an elderly woman as his successor. Her speech was the shortest yet, and about the shortest possible: “I yield to Jaurg the bastard.”
Eyes still firmly closed, Gath’s neighbor rose and strode forward to mount the stone. Blindness would be small handicap to a sorcerer and bastardy could be no great shame in Nordland, for at least a dozen of those present had been unable to name their fathers when they did homage.
“Brothers and sisters, I speak for those who were enslaved and now are free.” He spoke softly and simply, spurning the dramatic tricks that many speakers had attempted. “For that release, we are eternally grateful to the rest of you, although we were happy in our servitude. We expected an attempt to unmask us and feared it, but did not think it would succeed.
“It would not have done, I am sure, without the valor of one man. Some of you may feel that your pledge of homage to him was mere formality, a way of demonstrating your independence. I assure you that we who were enthralled do not think of it that way. We honor Atheling Gathmor for his father’s sake of course, but we honor him also in his own right How many mundanes would have defied a gathering of sorcerers as he did today? He is not pure jotunn, I agree, but does any man or woman here claim to be his superior in courage?”
The whole chamber broke into applause. Oh, horrors! Shame! Gath curled up and hid his face on his knees. They all knew how frightened he had been when he came in, so this was just cruel, hateful mockery! Perhaps they were getting back at him for having had to kneel at his feet. He thought bitter thoughts about the despicable Jaurg, who had seemed quite a solid sort of guy until then.
The clapping died away into open laughter, and then stilled. Jaurg chuckled. ”He does not believe us! Let us prove our sincerity. On your honor, brothers and sisters, let any here who feels demeaned by having knelt to this man today now stand and ask to be released from his homage.”
Warily Gath lifted his head a little and peered around the chamber. No one was. standing. What sort of game were they playing with him now?
Jaurg sighed loudly. “He is still modest—that must come from the nonjotunn part of him! But I must get down to business. As you can guess, our mission and purpose was to enlist all the rest of you to the cause that we so wholeheartedly then supported. When we set out for Nintor there were five of us loyal to the Almighty. Our ships encountered others at sea, and some stopped to make wassail at ports on the way. When we came ashore, we were twelve.”
He paused a moment, to let his audience reflect on that “We enlisted three more on Nintor itself, but then the arrivals overwhelmed us. We were outnumbered and dared try no further recruitment lest we reveal ourselves. We waited for this meeting, planning to take possession of the building in advance and entrap each of you in turn as he or she entered. You all know how Twist son of Kalkor thwarted us . . . Are you aware of that, Atheling Gath?”
“No,” Gath said.
Because of his closed eyes, Jaurg’s smile seemed to imply that he was dreaming happy dreams. “He suggested that this year we assemble outside and enter by lot. Thus were we balked! To him also we are now grateful.
“Our alternative plan, of course, was to leave first, and overpower you singly as you emerged. We failed in the first attempt and shall not now try again, but the Usurper was most certainly watching who entered. Oh, yes, he can see this far! Right at the start, he warned us that we might fail. He said he would give us three hours. That time, I believe, is almost up. I have spoken.”
Jaurg stepped down from the stone and waited for others to rise. No one did Several voices shouted: “Speak on!”
“Then what?”
“Tell us more!”
Drugfarg’s weighty bellow drowned them all out. “You mean he’s going to overpower us as we leave?”
The blind man stepped back up on the podium. “No. He will simply destroy the Commonplace and us with it.”
Half the sorcerers leaped to their feet, and then more followed, but no one said anything at all. Puzzled, Gath glanced at Twist. The cripple was showing his tangled teeth in a grimace and concentrating blank-eyed on something. So, appar ently Jaurg had succeeded where Gath had failed and the debate was now being conducted at an occult level. Gath himself could no longer hear it, that was all.