“But we won’t fight in this conflict either,” Thealos tried to say, clenching his teeth. “We haven’t since the Purge Wars, and the humans mock us for our weakness.”
“And how do you know so much about the Bandit Rebellion? We have watchposts along the Kingshadow still. If there was anything to concern us in the Shoreland, our scouts will tell us. What is the source of your knowledge? Isn’t this just gossip you’ve heard in alley taverns across the river? Ah, you didn’t know that I knew about that?” he said triumphantly, seeing Thealos flinch. “Your speech was noble and brave. But the truth, Thealos? The truth is that you tire of the Rules of Forbiddance. You feel tethered by our customs and you seek to spoil yourself with the gratification’s of Dos-Aralon. As a barter’s son, you’ve been exposed to their life. It’s tainting you.”
“That is not true.”
“You are deceiving yourself! I have seen young Shae itching to sip from the forbidden cups. I tell you from my experience, I have seen these Kilshae when they try to return, to gain admittance back into the protection of our society. To the very shelter they once took for granted. They are heartbroken when they come to learn that they cannot! Anathema is forever.” He leaned forward, giving Thealos a hard stare. “Will you risk that? Are the pleasures of Dos-Aralon truly worth that?”
Mutters of assent rumbled through the chamber. Thealos didn’t dare look behind him.
“You’re twisting my words!” Thealos said, stepping forward. “I’ve never had a sip of ale or eaten their burned meat. I’ve never done anything to bring dishonor on my name or my family. What sin have I committed to earn this? Our culture is in danger, Nordain. What will you do when the humans come here? Do you think they will grant you one morsel of honor because you’re a Council Elder? They will take your chalice and dash your head against the paving stones.”
“Are you threatening..?” Nordain roared.
“No! Sons of Fire, I am trying to get you to see what will happen if we continue to sit and do nothing! If I forsake the Rules of Forbiddance out there, I have no right to return. I know that. You do not believe me strong enough to resist their ways. I tell you that I am. As the son of a barter, I must be! Let me see the world as it is. Let me see it for myself, Elder. Without all our shade and illusions. That is all that I ask. If I am wrong, I will humbly submit to any penance you have for me, and I covenant to dedicate two Silvan years to a calling. I ask for a brief while to see if I am right. To follow where my heart leads me, just as our forbears did following Silvermere to this valley all those years ago. Was he a Kilshae to do so? Then I am in good company.”
“And what gives you this right? You think that the gods of the Shae cannot protect us?”
“Not from our own foolishness. They never have.”
“And by what authority do you make this claim? Our ruler is the only one who can interpret the gods’ will for the Shae. That is the direction we must all follow. You must follow it, Thealos!”
The young Shae stared at him passionately. “I cannot.”
“You deny the authority of the King of Avisahn?”
“No, I deny the wisdom of the Shae hierarchy.”
“They are the same. If you accept our values, you must accept their decisions. By your soul, Thealos – you must accept it!”
“I will not accept what is wrong – what has been wrong since we’ve let a stupid bureaucracy overwhelm our freedoms. Look where following frightened hearts has brought us? We’ve lost the whole valley to the humans. King Silverborne is a coward for letting it happen during his reign. And so are you for not seeing it. May our gods have mercy on us for the way you’re destroying this people.” And Thealos knew before the last words were out of his mouth that he should have kept that last thought to himself.
III
The Council Elder’s private chambers were lavish with gifts from the guilds he represented in Vannier’s name. Tall flawless vases, crystal dishes with sweet smelling confections, bedecked curtains bearing the lily-and-rose of the clothweavers guild. Each more dazzling than the last. Expensive trinkets from as far away as Sheven-Ingen littered an onyx table top nestled against the wall near the door. These rattled as the door slammed shut.
“I told you to frighten him, Nordain,” Correl said. “Not send him to the block for sedition! In Vannier’s name, what do you think you are doing!” Thealos had never heard Correl angry enough to actually shout at the Council Elder.