Frays in the Weave

Clash, part two

Arthur cringed at the summary of their doings since leaving Verd. Another uniformed goon with far too much brains. One with a paranoid streak that first had Arthur believing that he was facing a mindwalker from Keen. He hadn't lived here long enough to appreciate fully how absurd that thought was, but as he had a suspicious mind of his own that just made it more likely that somewhere hidden away in Keen were small groups of practitioners of the forbidden arts. Magecrafters more likely than mindwalkers he guessed.

Still, General de Markand, or someone in his staff, had guessed just about everything that had befallen Arthur and his entourage of bodyguards and bloodhounds alike. That was uncanny, especially as it soon became clear that it had nothing to do with mindwalking. The young officer with his dry humour in his red linen and black leather represented a presence that all but guaranteed that no users of the gift were present. The Inquisition, those who called themselves holy and behaved like a well organized team rather than a gang of thugs. Which mean they'd verify that a person used magic before the execution. Dead would still be as dead in the end though.

Arthur was a bit unclear of his own status, but Ken had made it clear that Weaving had nothing to do with the use of the gift, at least not directly.

At the moment he sat in a foldable chair, a holo cam circling the tent, which had the inquisition officer fidgeting, facing one of Keen's most senior military men and Arthur felt very much like a child who had been dressed down in public. He would regain his confidence, he knew that, but for the time being he could only admire the person who had just delivered such a succinct, and more importantly, correct summary of his whereabouts.

"And now that we have arrived according to your plans?" Arthur asked. It was less of a provocation than it sounded.

"We return north west, I guess," a staff officer answered in de Markand's place. A middle aged woman. Most of them were. It had surprised Arthur at first, but he guessed it made sense to use women as brains and let the men handle the actual killing. There was only so much you could do about muscle mass.

"Haven't you listened at all? Those riders all but massacred soldiers in federation body walkers!" That part was one they hadn't guessed, which indicated that de Markand's staff weren't all knowing.

The general smiled. A tired smile, but one anyway. "Yes, we have heard what you say. That's the reason we have to face them. Those battlemages have to be killed one by one unless Chach manage to get enough of them together in one place to shift the odds too unfavourably"

Arthur turned and threw Ken a glance. "I don't think they are battlemages," Arthur started. Ken nodded, but unhappily. Watch and Weave. Arthur guessed he didn't even approve of helping one side with information about the other. This time Arthur had won him over though. Giving away information or Weaving, those had been the choices Arthur had given, and Ken had caved in. Apparently a taleweaver could chose when and why he Wove.

"Why not?" General de Markand looked at Ken directly. "You are known as Walking Talking, but you've been silent throughout this meeting."

Ken didn't answer, and Arthur hadn't expected him to. He wouldn't prevent Arthur from supplying Keen with the knowledge they needed, but he refused to take a direct part in what he felt was a breach of neutrality. Well, neutrality be damned. Keen was where Arthur felt at home. In a way they had gone to lengths to help him find a place to live, to the point of facing up to the federation military might. If they took his side he wasn't going to betray them.

"Ken doesn't approve of me openly siding with you," Arthur answered.

He wasn't naive enough to believe they did it out of kindness. By now he had grasped the political value of being associated with a taleweaver, but he wasn't asking for reasons.