The Lawkeeper closed his eyes and was silent for a time. Then he spoke. “The Law says that the moredhel are beyond the conventions of men. They have no bond with the folk. But in the Fifteenth Year the Protector Bekinsmaan did meet with one called Turanalor, chieftain of the Clan Badger moredhel in the Vale of Isbandia, and a truce during Banapis was established. It lasted for three midsummers. When Turanalor vanished in the Edder Forest, during the Nineteenth Year, his brother, Ulmslascor, became chieftain of Clan Badger. He violated the truce, killing the entire population of Dibria’s Kraal.” He seemed to evaluate the traditions as he knew them. “It is not unprecedented to listen to the words of the moredhel, but caution is urged, for they are treacherous.”
Guy motioned toward Arutha. “This man you have seen. He is Arutha, a prince of the Kingdom that once you counted enemy. He is now our friend. He is a distant kinsman of mine. He has had dealings with Murmandamus before. He is not of Armengar. Will he be given voice in the volksraad?”
The Lawkeeper raised his hand in question. A chorus of affirmation sounded, and the Lawkeeper indicated the Prince could speak. Arutha stepped forward. “I have battled against this fiend’s minions before.” In simple words he spoke of the Nighthawks, the wounding of Anita, and the journey to Moraelin. He spoke of the moredhel chieftain, Murad, who was slain by Baru. He spoke of the terrors and evils seen, all fashioned by Murmandamus.
When he was done, Amos raised his hands and spoke. “I came to you sick and wounded. You cared for me, a stranger. Now I am one of you. I speak of this man Arutha. I lived with him, fought beside him, and learned to count him friend for four years. He is without guile. He has a generous heart and his words can be counted as bond. What he has said can only be the truth.”
Guy shouted, “What can our answer be?”
Swords were lifted and torches brandished as a chorus of shouts echoed across the great market. “No!”
Guy waited while the host of Armengar cried out their defiance to Murmandamus. He stood with hands fisted, black gauntlets held high above his head while the sound of Armengar’s thousands washed over him. His single eye seemed alight and his face was alive, as if the courage of the city’s populace was sweeping away his fatigue and sorrows. To Jimmy, he looked a man renewed.
The Lawkeeper waited until the din died, then said, “The volksraad has decreed the law. This is the law: no man will quit the city to serve this Murmandamus. Let no man violate the law.”
Guy said, “Return to your places. Tomorrow the battle begins in earnest.”
The crowd began to disperse and Jimmy said, “I didn’t doubt this would happen for a minute.”
Locklear said, “Still, that Dark Brother with the beauty mark has a way with words.”
Bronwynn said, “True, but we have fought the moredhel since the beginning of Armengar. There can be no peace between us.” She looked at Locklear, a serious expression on her pretty face. “When are you to report?”
He said, “Jimmy and I have duty at first light.”
She and Krinsta exchanged glances and nods. Bronwynn took Locklear by the hand. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“I have a house we may stay in tonight.” Firmly she led him away from his friend, through the evaporating press of the volksraad.
Jimmy glanced at Krinsta. “He’s never -”
She said, “Neither has Bronwynn. She has decided if she is to die tomorrow, she will at least know one man.”
Jimmy thought a moment. “Well, at least she’s picked a gentle lad. They’ll be good to each other.”
Jimmy began to move and was halted by Krinsta’s restraining hand. He looked back to find her studying his face in the torchlight. “I also have not known the pleasures of the bedchamber,” she said.
Jimmy suddenly felt the blood rise in his face. For all the time spent together, Jimmy had never been able to get Krinsta off alone. The four had spent hours together, with some mock passion in dark doorways, but the girls had always managed to keep the two squires under control. And always there had been a sense that it was all somehow play. Now, suddenly, Jimmy knew there was no more play. There was a serious note of approaching doom and a desire to live more intensely, even if only for one night. At last he said, “I have, but only twice.”
She took his hand. “I also have a house we may use.” Silently she led Jimmy away. As he followed he was aware of a new feeling inside. He felt a sense of the inevitability of death, for it had been etched in bold relief against this desire to affirm life. And with it came fear. Jimmy squeezed Krinsta’s hand tightly as he walked with her.
Couriers raced along the wall, carrying messages. The Armengarian tactic was simple. They waited. As dawn broke, they had seen Murmandamus ride forth, his white horse prancing as it moved back and forth before his assembled host. It was clear he waited for an answer. The only answer he received was silence.
Arutha had convinced Guy to do nothing. Each hour gained before the attack was another hour relief might be coming. If Murmandamus expected the gates to open, or a defiant challenge, he was disappointed, for only the sight of silent lines of Armengarian defenders atop the wall greeted him. At last he rode forward, until he stood at midpoint between his army and the walls. Again by arcane arts his voice could be clearly heard.