The Elves of Cintra (Book 2 of The Genesis of Shannara)

There were stuffed animals of all sorts. There were flags that Logan didn’t recognize, streamers and banners and pieces of old cloth, all nailed to the walls or hung from the ceiling. A huge old desk and chair sat to one side and forward of the motley collection, its scarred surface covered with papers and more books. Lizards with weapons warded the stairs that led onto the dais from either side, and these carried stun guns and dart launchers. The benches were crowded with people—humans and Freaks alike—their faces uplifted and their eyes directed toward the dais and the speaker who addressed them, his voice rolling out over the assemblage, deep and powerful.

“We are the future, and we must embrace our destiny. We are the promise of our forefathers, the bearers of their laws and their vision, come together in this darkest of times, in this deepest of glooms, to bring light to a troubled world. We must never forget our mission. We must stay the course.”

The speaker was short and squat, and from the sound of his voice, male, but his species was virtually unidentifiable. He stood upright, but just barely.

He had arms and legs, but the arms were truncated and the legs misshapen. His reptilian hide suggested that he was a Lizard, but there were patches of dark skin, as well, and clumps of hair sprouted from his torso and head like saw grass from a barren field. His face was so scrunched up and twisted that it was difficult to identify individual features. He stood center stage, his short arms gesturing dramatically as he spoke, his head tilting and nodding for emphasis. It was the voice alone that seemed most normal to Logan, the voice of a practiced speaker, of an orator of great skill and confidence.

Of a leader, Logan thought suddenly.

He leaned over. “The Senator?” he asked the girl.

She nodded. “Once an elected lawmaker, back when there were such things. He was one of many, but the rest are all gone. He is the last, and he carries on in the tradition, making and passing laws for the benefit of his constituents.” She looked at him and shook her head. “I don’t pretend to understand.

But it seems to work. People come from all over to listen to him.”

The truncated arms waved in sharp motions. “We must never despair, my friends. We must never give in to our uncertainties and our fears. We must move forward, following the road that was laid before us by those who have gone ahead. We must act in a decent and reasonable way, and we must keep our goals before us, ever present, ever conscious of their importance to a civilized world. Because we are civilized and we are a world, though some would have it otherwise. Laws bind and define us. Order gives us purpose. This house of government provides the physical evidence of our societal resurgence, risen from the chaos and the murk.

“Look about you! Look upon the faces of your friends and neighbors and fellow believers. Look upon their faces and see the hope radiated there. We give one another that hope. We give one another the reassurance that our way of life, while changed, is not gone. There may be dark things seeking to pull us down, to drag us away to places where there is only pain and suffering. But that will not happen here. We are too strong for them! We are too powerful! Recite the words! Recite the Pledge!”

As one, the assemblage began to speak:

I pledge allegiance to the flag

And to the man we call the Senator

And to the Republic for which he stands

One people, under his law

With a brighter day promised for all.

The words rolled out across the chamber floor, strong and certain. Logan had no idea what they were supposed to accomplish or even what they meant.

There was no Republic, no one rule or people, and probably no brighter day anytime soon, either. But the people gathered here obviously believed otherwise. There was no pause in the recitation of the words, no hint of doubt or confusion.

“My friends,” the Senator intoned, his squat, ugly form shambling back and forth across the dais now, his head bowed. “I will be offering new laws on the morrow and would ask all and sundry gathered here to come witness and participate in the political process. A public hearing will begin at noon. All speakers will be heard and their words honored. Our attention will be directed primarily to the equitable distribution of foodstuffs and water. Our stores are plentiful, but not inexhaustible.”

He wheeled about and spread his arms wide. “Hear ye, hear ye, this august body is dismissed and this legislative session terminated. Thanks and praise to all for the work done here; may it be forever recognized. You are dismissed. Go forth and be well.”

There was a long, sustained clapping from the audience, and then they began to rise and move toward the doors at the back of the room. Logan and Cat stepped aside to let them pass. Logan was struck by the fervor he saw in their faces. Even though to him it all seemed another variation on smoke and mirrors, they had obviously found something here to believe in.

The Senator had moved to his desk and taken a seat. A scattering of people had crowded forward and taken places on the closest benches, obviously waiting to be summoned to speak privately with him. But it was to Cat and Logan that he gestured, beckoning them forward from the back of the room.