control, can you keep it? Open your eyes, Jubal, and see what’s going on outside
of your own little sphere. The Emperor is dead. The Rankan Empire is facing a
crisis, and the rightful heir to the throne is right here in town. What’s more,
those ‘fish-eyed’ Beysib you scorn have made us the gateway to a new land …
and a rich land at that. Sanctuary is becoming a focal point in history, not a
forgotten little backwater town, and powerful forces are going to be set in
motion to control it, if they haven’t been mobilized already. We need to unify
what strength we have, not erode it away in petty local squabbles that leave us
drained and ripe for the picking.”
“You’re becoming quite a tactician, old one,” Jubal said thoughtfully. “Why
haven’t you said this to anyone else?”
“Who would listen?” Hakiem snorted. “I’m still the old storyteller who made
good. I may have the ear of the Beysa, and through her the Prince, but they
don’t control the streets. That’s your arena, and you’re busy using what power
you have to stir up trouble.”
“I listen to you,” the ex-crimelord said firmly. “What you say gives me much
food for thought. Perhaps I have been shortsighted.”
“At least we’re headed into winter. The rainy season should cool things off…
and maybe give you enough time to reflect on your course of action.”
“Don’t count on it,” Jubal sighed. “I was going to warn you to stay away from my
old mansion. I have information that the Stepsons are on their way back into
town … the original ones, not the mockeries who took their place.”