There was a total lack of emotion in that statement, making it all the more alien for its starkness. ‘But why, Majesty? Of all those on Kelewan, you are the ones who are most able to facilitate your own evacuation. You have powerful users of magic and can fashion your own rifts through which to escape.’
‘Mara of the Acoma came to fetch me when I was a hatchling,’ began the old queen. ‘She said I was pretty and that is why I came here. Since then she visited me many times, as did her son, and his son, and his son. I enjoy those visits, as do all the queens who share the experience with me, Miranda.
‘But no human has ever truly understood our nature. We are of this world. We can not abide anywhere else. We were of this world when humans first came here, in the time before history, and we will die with this world. It is what must be. Would you uproot trees and move them? Would you fish the seas and put creatures of the deep in alien waters to save them? Would you move the very rocks of Kelewan to save them? You humans are visitors here, and have always been such, and it is right you should move on, but we are of this world.’ She paused for a moment, then repeated, ‘We are of this world.’
Miranda was speechless. There was such a profound finality in the queen’s words, that she knew debate was pointless. Feeling defeated she said weakly, ‘If you have a change of heart, we will do what we can.’
‘Again, we thank you for your concerns.’
‘I will be away, for I have much to see to.’
‘Honours to your house, Miranda of Midkemia.’
‘Honours to your hive, Queen of the Cho-ja.’
Miranda felt something very beautiful and important was about to be lost, but there were still so many things to do that she pushed aside the ache in her chest and started the return to the surface where the Imperial Guards waited to escort her back to the Emperor.
Pug felt a chill that had nothing to do with the unusually cool highland wind. Kelewan was a hot world compared to Midkemia, but these highlands were home to bitter winters and cold nights. He stood motionless and waited as a group of five Thuril approached him on foot. He waited at the edge of the town called Turandaren, which over the years had become a major trading centre between the Thuril Confederation and the Empire. Once a village on the frontier, it had evolved over the years until it was the closest thing to a Tsurani settlement in the highlands.
Over a century of peace between the two people had not lessened their distrust of each other, for that peace had been preceded by centuries of war and attempted conquest by the Tsurani. The old walls might have crumbled but they were still defensible, and the Thuril were adept mountain fighters who had never been conquered by the Tsurani.
The leader of the five men was an old warrior by the look of him. His long grey hair was plaited and he wore a small wool cap with a long feather hanging down behind his left ear. His upper body bore clan markings and old wounds, showing that while peace with the Empire might be the norm, that didn’t preclude Thuril blood feuds and border raids. Banditry was commonplace along the trade routes, as well. He wore a deep blue tartan and carried a shield and longsword, both strapped to his back. The other four men looked more like merchants than warriors. The leader halted directly in front of Pug and said, ‘You’re standing as if you’re waiting for an invitation to enter the town, Black Robe.’
Pug smiled. ‘I thought if I waited here conspicuously I’d get faster results than if I wandered around town asking questions.’
The leader laughed. ‘Not a bad guess.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Now, I’m Jakam, hetman of Turandaren, and these worthies are men of note.’ Pug noticed that he didn’t bother to introduce them. ‘What can we do for you, Tsurani?’
Pug said, ‘I need to find the Confederation Council and, most importantly, I need to speak with the Kaliane.’
At the mention of the Kaliane, Jakam nodded his head, as if showing respect. ‘The Council meets at the Warm Springs of Shatanda, near the town of Tasdano Abear. Do you know it?’
‘I can find it, if you point me in the right direction.’
‘Take the road east, up into the mountains, and at the notch in the ridge, you’ll find two trails down. Take the northernmost, and follow it for a week if you walk, less if you have a horse or magic. That’ll put you in the Valley of Sandram and at the northern end you’ll find Tasdano Abear and the Warm Springs of Shatanda. The Council should be easy enough to find, it’ll be in all those tents and huts thrown up around the springs. But you’d better hurry. Council ends in six days and the leaders of the clans will return to their homes.’
‘I’ll be there by nightfall,’ said Pug.
‘Black Robes,’ said Jakam, as if it were a curse. ‘Anything else?’
‘My thanks, and a warning.’
The four merchants stepped back and Jakam’s hand moved across his chest, one motion away from drawing the sword over his shoulder. ‘Warning?’
‘Yes. Prepare your people for travel, for word should come from the Council soon that the Thuril people must leave these lands.’