"What are the others?"
Miloshir replied, "The White Stone of Tema, the Black Stone of Andhur Regvos, the Whip of Sai, the Dagger of Aghad, and the Book of Silence are the remaining five."
"And each of these is as mighty as the Sword of Bheleu, yet we know where none of these potential menaces are?" Karag demanded.
"Oh, no, they are not equally powerful; none of these is the equal of the Sword of Bheleu except the Book of Silence, which holds the fate of the world in its pages."
"But we know where none of them are?"
"That's right."
"Where does the basilisk fit into this?" Deriam asked. "Surely it's the equal of one of these mysterious objects!"
"Ah, there's debate about that. Some say that the basilisk is the true token of The God Whose Name Is Not Spoken, and that the Book of Silence is a lesser item, or a myth, or perhaps the token of Dagha himself."
"I can readily believe that that thing is the symbol of the death-god. If it is, then we possess two of the tokens, including one mightier than this sword; Garth stands no chance."
Miloshir looked at Deriam, and then up and down the tables at the thirteen other councilors present. "I hope you're right," he said.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It was plain that there would be no shortage of fuel in Skelleth that winter; partially burned beams and rafters were plentiful, and charcoal abounded. Nor was building stone lacking, since the ring of ruins provided all that might be needed. It was sound wood, for roofing, flooring, and furniture, that was most sorely missed. Ceilings could be constructed of arched stone and roofs made of thatch, but such work took vast amounts of time, as well as consuming great quantities of stone and requiring elaborate scaffolding.
There were no forests or even groves anywhere in the vicinity; firewood had traditionally been gathered from bushes by those fortunate enough to use wood at all, rather than dried dung. No building had been done in Skelleth since the completion of the Baron's mansion some two hundred years earlier. Prior to that, wood had been shipped in by caravan in great wagons, as had much of the stone and other material.
What wood could be salvaged was used, but the supply ran out when some twenty-odd houses had been erected and before any had been furnished.
There was talk of using the wood, chairs, and tables from the King's Inn, but that was quickly abandoned when it became clear that neither Garth nor the Forgotten King thought much of the idea.
Therefore, Saram decided that it was time to re-establish communication with the south, so that wood could be bought. He said as much to Garth.
Garth had been doing very little since Selk's arrival and the killing of the warbeast. He had made a halfhearted attempt to cut off his left hand while it held the sword; but as he had expected, the knife-blade broke before it had cut deeply, and the wound healed overnight. After that failure, he had spent much of his time sitting and staring at the sword, trying to devise some way to get free of it without giving in to the Forgotten King.
Galt, after due consideration, had decided to stay; he realized that the City Council would almost certainly be willing to put him to death to appease the Erammans. They were unlikely to pardon him, since such an action would look very suspicious once the High King heard of it. Someone had to be the scapegoat, and he and Garth had been chosen.
Of the forty-one other overmen in Skelleth, fourteen had remained; twenty-seven, including all the wounded, had gone home when offered the choice.
Selk was being kept under guard in one of the upstairs rooms of the King's Inn; he remained fairly quiet, but complained at every opportunity that there was something unsettling about the room, something in the air that made his skin crawl. Garth and the others could detect nothing but an extraordinary amount of dust.
The overman guards at the five gates were withdrawn, due to the loss of so many warriors, leaving only humans.
Galt lost interest in governing his remaining party, leaving Saram in virtually complete control of the village. It was under these circumstances that Saram came to ask Garth's opinion about sending an embassy to Kholis.
Garth considered. "I think," he said, "that you may be right. It has been more than a fortnight since the battle, and we have heard nothing from anywhere south of here. I think that we can therefore tell them whatever we choose, and they will accept it. Furthermore, winter will be here soon-already the winds have turned northerly and cold-and the High King will be unable to send an army here without extreme difficulty once the snows begin."
"I hope he'll have no reason to send an army. I don't intend to tell him that you're an occupying force."
"That's good; what do you propose to tell him?"
"I've been thinking it over some, and I think this will hold up. I will send a message saying that the Baron, whom everyone knew to be mad, finally went berserk while speaking with a peaceful trading mission and set fire to the village. In the ensuing confusion many died, and much of the town was destroyed. The survivors joined together to rebuild, with the aid of your overmen, when it became clear that it was the Baron's insanity that began the fighting and fires, rather than any legitimate dispute or action of your party. We need not mention that your trade mission consisted of sixty warriors; we need not mention anyone but the sixteen of you still here. I exclude Selk, the seventeenth; he can be another little secret. We will ask for supplies to be sent so that we may survive the winter and for a new Baron of Skelleth to be named; and we will express our continued loyalty to the Kingdom of Eramma. How does that sound?"
"Good, very good; it puts all the responsibility for wrongdoing on the dead Baron."
"I thought you'd like it."
"If the King accepts it, then we can present the City Council with a whole new situation and ask them to reconsider."
"If you want to, yes."
"Why do you say, `If you want to?' Why should I not want to?"
"It seems to me that your Council isn't very helpful; why not just forget about them?"
"I came here to establish trade between the Northern Waste and Eramma. I intend to establish that trade, whether the others involved want it or not; it will benefit both, whether the rulers have the wit to realize it or not."
"Oh. I see. Garth-whatever happens, whether you convince your City Council or not-you're welcome to stay here in Skelleth as long as I'm running it."
"With luck, though, that won't be long; the High King will be sending a new Baron."
"Ah, that's true. I'd forgotten." He smiled. "I'll be able to relax, then, and pay some attention to my wife."
"Your wife?" Garth was startled.
"Certainly."
"What wife?"
"Frima, of course"
"Oh." Garth considered that. "Are you two married?"
"More or less. The law says that a marriage is valid if approved by the lord of the region. As acting baron, I'm the local lord, and I say we're married. When we get a new Baron I may ask him to confirm it."
"I see. Congratulations, then."
Saram studied the overman's face. "Are you missing your own wives? Perhaps you could send for them."
"No. My kind is not as prone to loneliness as you humans are."
"You seem depressed, though."
"I am depressed, not by the absence of my wives, but by the presence of this sword, and by the stupidity of the Council. "
"Oh. There isn't anything I can do about the Council, other than send my message to Kholis; is there any way I can help you with the sword?"
"I know of none."
"Let me see if I can pull your fingers free"