Amos snorted. “My old pa was a scoundrel, but that’s an insult.”
“Come, I welcome any who will join.” His words were sweet, seductive and those on the walls exchanged glances, and unspoken questions.
Guy and Arutha looked about, and du Bas-Tyra said, “There’s art and power in his voice. Look, my own soldiers are thinking maybe they won’t have to fight.”
Amos said, “Ready catapults.”
Arutha stepped beside him. “Wait!”
“For what?” asked Guy. “So he can sap the resolve of my army?”
“Stall for time. Time is our ally, and his enemy.”
Murmandamus shouted, “But those who oppose, those who will not stand aside and who block our march toward destiny, those shall be crushed utterly.”
Now, the tone of his voice carried a warning, a note of menace, and those upon the walls were visited by a feeling of utter futility. “I give you a choice!” He stretched his arms away from his body, and his short white robe fell away, revealing a body of incredible power, with the purple dragon birthmark clearly seen. He wore only a white loincloth. “You may have peace and serve in the cause of destiny.” Servants ran forward and quickly fitted his armour to his body: iron plates and greaves, chain and leather; a black helm, with the upswept wings of a dragon on either side. Then the human riders moved away, and behind, a full company of Black Slayers could be seen. They rode forward and assumed positions about Murmandamus. Murmandamus took up a sword and pointed it toward the wall. “But if you resist, you will be obliterated. Choose!”
Arutha whispered in Guy’s ear. At last the Protector shouted back, “I may not order any to quit the city. We must meet in volksraad. We will decide tonight.”
Murmandamus paused, as if the answer was unexpected. He began to speak but was interrupted by the serpent priest. With a curt gesture he silenced the priest. Turning back toward the wall, Arutha imagined he could see a smile below the eye guards of Murmandamus’s black helm. “I will wait. At first light tomorrow, open the gates of the city and come forth. You will be embraced as returning brethren, o my children.” He signalled and the giants pulled back the platform. In a few moments he had vanished into the huge host.
Guy shook his head. “The volksraad will not do anything. I will knock down any fool who thinks there is a single shred of truth in that monster’s words.”
Amos said, “Still we gain another day.”
Arutha leaned back against the wall. “And Martin and the others are one day closer to Stone Mountain.”
Guy remained silent, watching as the morning sun rose, and as the besieging army stood down, returning to camp, but still isolating the city. For hours the Protector and his commanders just watched.
Torches burned brightly all along the wall. Soldiers kept vigil on all fronts, under the command of Armand de Sevigny. The bulk of the populace assembled in the great market.
Jimmy and Locklear moved through the crowd. They found Krinsta and Bronwynn and moved alongside the girls. Jimmy began to speak, but Krinsta motioned for silence as Guy, Arutha, and Amos stepped onto the platform. With them stood an old man, dressed in a brown robe that appeared as ancient as its wearer. He held an ornate staff, incised with scrollwork and runic symbols along its entire length, in the crook of his arm.
“Who’s he?” asked Locklear.
“The Lawkeeper,” whispered Bronwynn. “Hush.”
The old man raised his free hand and the crowd became silent. “The volksraad meets. Hear, then, the law. What is spoken is true. What is counselled is heeded. What is decided is the will of the folk.”
Guy raised his hands above his head. He spoke. “Into my care you have given this city. I am your Protector. I now counsel this: our foe awaits without and seeks to gain with fine-sounding words what he will not gain by strength of arms. Who will speak to his cause?”
A voice from the crowd said, “Long have the moredhel been the enemies of our blood. What service can we take in their cause?”
Another answered, “Still, may we not hear again this Murmandamus? He speaks fairly.” All eyes turned toward the Lawkeeper.