In the Earth Abides the Flame (10 page)

The two ambassadors turned to face each other, cheeks reddening, one man in embarrassment, the other in anger. Mahnum ignored them, and continued his implacable recitation.

'The Arkhos of Straux has been supplied with a number of willing bedfellows in exchange for information about the strength of the Westrau and Austrau divisions of the army, and the financial state of Straux. This he has done secretly, as the court of Straux is loyal to Faltha, though their king is a traitor and aids the Arkhos in his treachery.'

The Arkhos of Straux stood to protest. 'Wait until the man has finished,' Saraskar snapped at him. 'And when you do speak, perhaps you would care to explain your bawdy boasts the last time we met at this table.' The Arkhos of Straux spluttered, but could clearly think of nothing to say.

Mahnum continued. 'The Arkhos of Favony gained his appointment to the Council just over two years ago. He was a lowly official in one of the outlying villages in the foothills of Mount Porveiir until his elevation by the new ruler of that land. His father is a Bhrudwan spy, known to them as "The Refiner" in honour of his ability, by spendthrift ways, to turn pure gold into dross. His son apparently has inherited that distinction, as well as the epithet, and has enormous gambling debts which Bhrudwo has offered to pay in return for his support.

'The Arkhos of Nemohaim is the leader of the rebellion. He was the first to betray his country, having travelled to Bhrudwo itself twice, the first time over four years ago. In fact, the Voice of Andratan told me that the Arkhos was a guest of the fortress even as we spoke. That would have been about eighteen months ago.' Half a dozen heads turned to look at the man from Nemohaim. 'This man recruited at least three of this Council to serve Bhrudwo.'

Mahnum leaned on the table with his hands, as much to steady himself as to emphasise his words. Looking at the Company, he realised some of them would struggle to believe such a tale of corruption. What if Mahnum was wrong, they would think. They would not leave the room alive. Perhaps they were doomed even if he was right.

A thick silence hung over the table.

'Is he finished?' the Arkhos of Vertensia asked; then, without waiting for a reply, stood and spoke: 'Why have we allowed such talk to spill across this hallowed table unchallenged? Not because of our fault, unless it be the fault of tolerance. Yet such pernicious rumours as these, each no doubt as easy to explain and as innocent of evil as that which concerns Vertensia, cannot be allowed to reach the general populace. I applaud the decision of the Arkhos of Sarista to sponsor these deluded outlanders in their bid to undermine sensible government; for if these rumours had first been spoken in the markets, many ill-bred people might even now be overcome by panic' He sat down, a confident look on his face.

Saraskar stood, and spoke in an imperious voice, a voice of command, a final gambit. 'The allegations can be confirmed easily enough. There can be little doubt that seven of us here are traitors. I cannot believe we have been so blind as to allow this treachery to rise in our midst completely unchecked. Why have we closed our eyes to the actions of our fellows? I personally had many warnings, but chose to believe the lies I was told rather than the truth I could see. Well, now I can see the truth clearly in front of me. We have before us a Bhrudwan

- admittedly a recalcitrant one, but a Bhrudwan nonetheless - clad in the garb of the Magdhi Dasht. What is he doing in Faltha? We have heard details all of us can confirm: for example, my colleague the Arkhos of Favony has always answered to the name "Refiner", for the reason given by this Firanese Trader who could not have possibly known it. So how does he know it?

'If this Trader is telling the truth, there are traitors among us. Why would such a group as this put their heads in the mouth of the lion if they were not convinced of the truth of their stories?

For we all know they risk death by making such information public'

'This thing should not come to a vote,' the Arkhos of Straux said, his voice a growl. His bald head spun round to face his accusers. 'Who is to say that this is not an elaborate ploy on the part of an enemy - whether Bhrudwo or some Falthan country, it matters not - to distract us from their real plan? Though I would have thought they might have employed more convincing emissaries. Look at them. Women, old men and children!'

Farr shifted in his seat, clearly having difficulty restraining himself.

The fat Councillor placed a heavy hand on the shoulder of Saraskar, forcing him to his seat.

'Sit down, my friend; you've had more time than enough to flesh out the lies of the enemies of this Council. I am the Arkhos of Nemohaim,' he announced in a sneering, high-pitched wheeze. 'Supposedly the chief conspirator in this band of evil traitors. The man who, according to our worthy friend here, travelled twice to Bhrudwo, though everyone knows I have trouble walking from one side of Instruere to the other. There are a number of facts I wish noted. First, this Mahnum is the son of a man executed by the Sna Vazthan king for interfering in the war between Haurn and Sna Vaztha. Our predecessors at this table spent much time discussing Modahl of Firanes; that is, before his untimely death.' He sneered along the table at Mahnum.

'What is he talking about?' Leith asked his mother.

'A long story,' she replied. 'One of which even I don't know all the details.'

'You see, this family has a history of interfering in Falthan politics, and suffering for it.' His sickly-sweet voice menaced them all. 'It is interesting to note that one Leith Mahnumsen is being sought by the Instruian Guard on a matter of common assault. I understand that this grandson of Modahl sits at this table as 1 speak.'

With some shock Mahnum realised that this was a reference to his son's striking of the Instruian guard. I hope he didn't die. But it was either that or forsaking his family and friends... He took a deep breath and forced himself to look at the Arkhos of Nemohaim. There is a distinct unsavouriness about this man's evil, he thought as the little pig eyes bored into him. The Bhrudwans seem to be evil but impersonal, as though it was their job; this man smells like a rotted carcass, a person going bad from the inside out. Can the other Council members not see it? Or are they cowed by it?

How has he found this out? Mahnum asked himself. And how does he make such noble and true deeds as those of my father and my son sound so insidious? He could feel the will of the Council falling in behind the words of this foul creature. And now he, too, began to suspect there must be some unknown fact bolstering this man's confidence and that of his co-conspirators. Something that endangered them all.

'I will not ask for all my rights as a member of this Council, merely that the Firanese Trader and his son be handed over to me for further questioning. As for the others, they can go free.

For their safety, I will arrange an escort which will conduct them to the borders of their own land. Then, when I have finished questioning the son and grandson of Modahl, perhaps they also might be released. It is important that we discover and deal with the source of these wild and dangerous accusations.' The huge man sat down with such violence that the table shook.

'My friend, you miss the point.' Phemanderac was on his feet, arms spread wide, palms on the table, his sharp eyes level with those across from him. 'The purpose of this meeting is to discuss the Bhrudwan aggression threatening Faltha. All your baseless posturing does is confirm that threat. Here is the question: is Bhrudwo about to attack us? If so, what should our response be? Anything else is irrelevant, though perhaps the Council might look to the loyalty of certain of its members.

'All that need be done is dispatch spies swiftly to verify the formation and location of the Bhrudwan army. Mahnum here claims to know the timetable, and suggests that these spies will not have to go far into enemy lands to find this army. When word is received by the Council that such an army indeed exists, all Faltha can be mobilised. If not, you can have your discussion with Mahnum about the source of the rumours.

'Or, as an alternative, you can hide irresponsibly behind indecision, or be bullied into compliance with the wishes of this -this man of limited intellect. Then when all comes crashing down around you, and your colleagues are revealed as murderous traitors, you can hope for a swift death. Though, in all likelihood, I suspect you will not be granted it. I would not care to be a member of the Council of Faltha on the day the Destroyer breaks down the Iron Door.' The philosopher did not sit down immediately, remaining fixed in his pose, staring into the eyes of the Arkhos of Nemohaim.

The debate continued for an hour at least, but the further it went, the less confident Mahnum felt about the outcome. Several Council members not named as traitors sided with the Company, but urged caution in dealing with Bhrudwo for fear of provoking an attack. The revelations about their fellow Councillors appeared to have taken them by surprise, robbing them of conviction and coherence. However, the opponents of the Company knew no such confusion. They were aware that they fought for their very lives, which lent their speech an urgency and articulateness seldom seen in the Chamber of Debate. Phemanderac matched wits with them, Saraskar argued cogently but without much real force, and Mahnum reiterated what he had seen and heard, but to him they seemed unlikely to prevail. The threat was so numinous, so unlikely, few seemed prepared to risk their careers and the wrath of their peers by responding positively to it.

Eventually the talking stopped and the Company were ushered out into the hall beyond the Iron Door to await the verdict of the Council. It was over, and it had gone so badly.

'It is simply not possible they would ignore the evidence before their eyes!' Farr said angrily.

'Was blindness a requirement for the position?'

'They would rather the evidence was not so,' Hal said, speaking for the first time in at least an hour. 'By doing nothing, they may hope things will correct themselves unaided. Such thinking is to be expected of those who never make important public decisions.'

'So much for the Most High,' Farr said. 'We've done our part. Now the fools behind that door are about to undo it all, and the Most High is nowhere to be seen.'

Hal turned to face the angry man. 'Blindness is a disease not confined to members of the Council,' he said mildly. 'You do not see where you do not look.'

'The Council has not decided yet,' Stella said encouragingly. 'They may decide in our favour after all.'

The words were no sooner spoken than the Iron Door opened and they were summoned back into the Chamber. One look told them all they needed to know. Saraskar and six others sat to one side, crestfallen, surrounded by members of the Instruian Guard; while the remainder of the Council members formed a knot in the centre of the room. As the Company approached, two of the Councillors assisted the Arkhos of Nemohaim to stand. He had been chosen to deliver the verdict. It was obviously one that pleased him.

'Worthy Firanese,' he wheezed, the undercurrent of the words contradicting their literal meaning. 'The Council of Faltha has come to a decision regarding the alleged invasion from Bhrudwo. We do not regard Bhrudwo as a threat, and can find no evidence to support the claims made by your Company.'

The words hammered at the Company like blows from a huge fist.

'We have also made the decision to deal with the rumours of traitors in high places. You have come to the appropriate place with your allegations, to your credit' - he seemed almost to choke on the words - 'and so will not be punished for them. For now. However, if any member of your Company is proven to have spread any such rumour, he or she will be arrested immediately. You may now leave. You are not permitted to petition the Council again on this or any other matter.'

'That's it?' Farr shouted. 'We claw our way across the world only to be told by a slippery oaf that nothing will be done? Well, I can do something, at least!' and, in so saying, advanced on the huge man.

'Farr! Come back!' Kurr shouted, and grabbed for the mountain man's hand. 'You'll only put yourself in prison. He is not worth the trouble!'

At the last moment Farr came to his senses. 'So my father and my brother remain unavenged,'

he said in a hollow voice, 'and within the year all this splendour will be in ruins. Well, at least that will afford me some satisfaction. I've never been in such a foul place.' He allowed Kurr to guide him back to the others.

'My friends, I can say little to assist you at this time,' Saraskar said quietly, his face a field of grief. 'As you can see, someone has miscounted, and there are more than seven allied against us. This I promise you, all my personal resources will be invested in looking for further evidence of the threat you have revealed to us. Politics is an unreasonable business, and I am sorry you have been exposed to it. Do not blame yourself for your failure. It would take nothing less than the production of the Jugom Ark itself held in the hand of the Most High to convince the Council to act. Goodbye. And keep safe: the Arkhos of Nemohaim issues no idle threats.'

'Goodbye,' Kurr said slowly, glancing across the room at the obese man who had won the day.

'We thank you for all your help.'

The Company turned and left the room; behind them none of the Council save Saraskar and the Arkhos of Nemohaim watched them leave. Leith waited for the Council to shout, to lay hands on them, to imprison, question, torture them, but there was no shout. At the least he expected them to take Achtal the Bhrudwan from them; after all, they had declared him innocent. But nothing was said. With much creaking and clattering, and with a final hollow boom, the Iron Gate slammed down behind them.

ALONG THE CORRIDOR WALKED the members of the Company, defeated, bereft of options, already turning their thoughts towards home. Surely we have done all we can, Perdu thought. It is time 1 saw my family again, it is time 1 reported to my clan chief, it is time I told the Fenni of the bravery of Parlevaag's death. The prospect of a Bhrudwan invasion seemed to be less believable in an ancient place like this Hall of Meeting. And what if the invasion does come? The Fenni will survive.. And then the thought: is Faltha really worth saving?