The Deepcombers

Chapter Forty Eight

Two attendants came forward with crates in their hands. Lon watched them drop to their knees and assemble a rostrum upon which the great conqueror could stand, a pulpit from which he could preach.

"What does he think will happen next?" Melcart asked.

"Capitulation," Lon replied. "He expects total compliance."

Minister Horne reached into his pocket and produced his weapon. Everyone gasped at the sight of his fist-sized smilkstone that shone white in the daylight. The young lad didn't have to point it out. He heard the others inhale as they beheld its glare. A smilkripple coursed through all their bodies and Lon heard the priest's voice in his mind.

"To the people of Atarskal," Minister Horne said in the Common language just as he'd done before on the Annabelle. His words were comported directly into Lon's mind and into the others around him and the archers on the walls winced when they heard the loud inner voice. The defenders didn't speak Common and so it must have been doubly-maddening. Saeya, Valari and Makin also looked upset; the priest's Varget was unique and unpleasant.

"My name is Grand High Minister Surilus Horne," the silk robed commander announced.

Silence.

More Calbians appeared atop the battlements to see who meddled with their minds. How strong was his speech? Lon wondered if the feigor-at-arms along the promenade could also hear the foreign words? Could Atar hear the priest?

"In accordance with Kluth's Desire, as was written in Ligne's Journal..." Minister Horne held the bright stone near his stomach and pointed his free hand up at the sky. "I come in Alocer's name, and at his express request." He said, "The Ghost of the Prophet has brought us to Yaclev's hive."

Melcart shifted to question at Lon; "is Yaclev what he calls your friend? The one we saw..?"

"No. It's allegory from the Prima Alocer." Lon still couldn't believe there was anyone alive who didn't know the stories and especially Yaclev, the bee who caused the mutations which have plagued feigorin since the tribes left the mines. It must be the only piece of scripture Melcart hadn't read.

"Oh." Mel said. But he wasn't the only one who looked clueless; the girls also had blank stares.

There was some commotion on the wall and Captain Owen appeared beside Sergeant Orchee in his gold leaf jacket. Their presence reassured everyone of the settlement's strong defense and even the young masters smiled at seeing them take charge.

"Is this the last refuge of the Calbians?" Minister Horne asked in everyone's minds.

The defenders on the battlements roared in defiance when they heard their kin-name spoken directly in their heads.

"You're not part of the Twelve Tribes." Horne doused their jubilation. "You have no legal right to exist on this side of the Tall Wall which is the boundary your own ancestors crossed when they committed themselves to Oub. You're oath-breakers and the children of oath-breakers." This produced a general murmur of discontent among the defenders.

Then the Saviour of the Calbians appeared in person. Atar stood tall and loomed over all others on the wall and Lon could see his huge hands on the crenelations.

"By what right do you inquire?" the red bearded giant asked loudly. His voice boomed across the fields and it was easy to hear him despite the water which poured from the waterspout.

The priest just stared across at him blankly until an officer behind broke ranks. The helper came forward to whisper in Horne's ear the identity of the hulk who defied them. The high minister nodded his thanks for the information and then motioned his helpful subordinate to step back in line.