The other lands

None of them, other than Grae, commanded an army, but all of them had been true to the secret objectives they shared. They had protected the coded language through which they corresponded, often sending communications on the lips of travelers who had no idea they were messengers. For most of them, it had been a long road to get here, to sit in nervous expectation, finally meeting face-to-face as one group united in a purpose that stretched across borders, mountains, forests, and seas.

"It is a blessed thing," Barad began in his deep voice, "that we finally can meet this way. It doesn't matter that this room smells of beer and sweat. It doesn't matter that this is a poor man's pub and that soon they'll be singing bawdy songs in the rooms beside this one. None of that matters. Look around you. The faces that you see are faces of the Kindred. We have always been so, but this meeting marks the day we sit together as one family and drink of the same cup. Let us do so twice: now, to begin our partnership and at the end of this meeting, to confirm it."

Motioning with his large hands, he indicated that he meant this literally. On the otherwise bare table before him sat a large silver chalice. It was a simple vessel, not particularly ornate, wide mouthed and tarnished by age. A dark, rich wine stained the metal as Barad lifted it, held it for the others to see, and then drank. He passed it to the woman beside him. She was drawfed by his height, but she took the cup reverently, drank from it, then passed it on. The chalice moved around in silence until it reached the far side of the table.

"Forgive me, King Grae, but before you drink let us hear from you. Of all the company, you are the newest to join. Confirm, please, that you are truly one of us," Barad added, smiling to lighten the request. "You see, you could turn us in most readily, whisper it right into Cori

It was clear that the monarch, young as he was, was not used to being evaluated. He held the chalice for a moment, rolling the stem in his fingers as if he were considering drinking the whole thing down first, speaking later. He set it down, though, and met the waiting faces. "You'll have me prove my loyalty to you? That's easy, because my loyalty to you is twi

"I know this is true," Barad said. "You were wronged."

"We were wronged!" Grae echoed, his voice higher and louder than the large man's. "Once we were beaten, Hanish Mein gave us over to those beasts. And yet Queen Cori

"We are on the same side, then," Barad said. "The suppression of the many by the few insults us all."

Grae drew himself upright and inhaled through his nose before he spoke. He put emphasis on one word, thereby stressing the particularity of his agreement with the statement. "The suppression of the many by the few does insult us all. The Akarans are the suppressors of this world. Aushenia will never forget that. I, as their king, will make sure of that."

The representative from Aos, a man named Hunt, said, "King, your conviction on this is clear, but I hear Dariel is spoken of fondly by your people. Has he not committed himself to benevolent projects in your kingdom? Rebuilding much of what was-"

"The prince's work is nothing to me. I let him drop his sweat on the ground of Aushenia, but I do not love him for it."

"But the people, do they not-"

"My people are not so easily appeased. Remember that we went twenty-two generations outside the Acacian Empire. None of my people has forgotten that. None of them wants things to remain as they are."

Elaz, the warehouse manager who had greeted Barad in Nesreh, asked, "What do they want, then?"

"They want what all of us here want; the end of Acacian rule, the return to the power of independent nations. The world was shaped better before Edifus went mad for power. In Aushenia we have long memories. Children are even taught to read using Queen Elena's Decree. We know in our bones that all the people of the Known World have the right to govern themselves. Let us return to what he destroyed with his Wars of Distribution."

Lady Shenk, a tavern mistress from Senival, asked, "Do you think that the world was paradise then? It was not. It was a mess! The world was a patchwork of feuding tribes led by petty chieftains. Dogs fighting for scraps, they were. Is that what you want to have again?"

"Of course not," Grae snapped. He seemed taken aback by being spoken to thusly by a commoner. He had asked to be here, though, and controlled the temper that flushed his face crimson. "But much has changed since then. We would return to the best of the past and strengthen it with the best of the present. Each nation will have its own king and queen, who will decide what is best for their people, not an outsider sitting in her palace in Acacia deciding for everyone. This is what we all want, right?"

Silence. The others looked about. For a moment they heard the commotion of the pub through the walls-chatter, a tune sung by a melancholy voice. Their eyes came to rest on Barad, who eventually answered, "You are the only one here who wears a crown. Too much talk of kings and queens does not go down well with this wine. Remember, King Grae, that no monarch can win against Cori

"That is why the rising will not be one of massed armies standing behind ba