The Riddle - Alison Croggon [23]
“Welcome, Chamber and Bards. Thank you for answering my call. I realize this meeting is not at the usual time.” She paused and looked slowly around the table, meeting the eyes of each person present. “Bards of the First Circle, you know why I have called you here. You were present yesterday, when Igan of Norloch issued the edict of Norloch to the School of Busk. What he told me deeply concerns all of Thorold, and this is why I asked you, Lord Steward, and your Chamber to be present.”
She drew a deep breath, as if she were nervous, but Maerad realized quickly that Nerili was, with difficulty, restraining fury.
“Igan of Norloch informed me yesterday that there have been certain changes within the School of Norloch, and within Annar.” Here Maerad sat up straighter. “There has been revealed, he said, a plot within the First Circle itself, a faction of rebels who are in league with the Dark. The rebellion has been put down, and its leaders imprisoned. The imprisoned traitors are Nelac of Lirigon, Tared of Desor, and Caragal of Norloch.”
There was an audible gasp of dismay from around the table, and Maerad met Cadvan’s eyes. He looked saddened, not shocked; she suspected he knew this already.
Nerili continued. “Norloch is under the military rule of the White Guard, commanded by the First Bard, Enkir of Norloch, to combat the emergency caused by the rebels. He has invoked the triple scepter, the emblem of the lost Kings of Annar, and claims the authority of High King over all the Seven Kingdoms.”
Again there was a collective gasp of shock. Arnamil leaped out of his chair, his mouth open, ready to say something, but Nerili held up her hand to indicate she wasn’t finished, and he slowly sat down.
“Moreover, he spoke of news that the kingdom of Dén Raven is moving in the south. He said that Norloch expects that Turbansk will be attacked within the next three months by the Sorcerer Imank.”
Maerad thought of the implacable army she had seen in her foredream. She bit her lip and looked at her hands, trying to keep down a surge of despair; even if Turbansk were attacked, it didn’t mean that Hem would be killed.
Nerili kept speaking. “In this climate of danger, Igan tells me, the First Bard of Norloch and the King of Annar, Enkir of Norloch, seeks the loyalty of all Schools and all Kingdoms. We are to give our undivided fealty, without question, to the triple scepter, or we are to be regarded as rebels. And he gave me to understand, in not so many words, that to choose rebellion, and thus to earn the enmity of Norloch, would be to risk the full wrath of Norloch’s might and power.”
The final statement nearly caused a riot. Almost everyone in the room stood up and started shouting. Nerili again held up her hand for silence, and her voice rang out over the room.
“My friends,” she said. “My dear fellow Thoroldians. I know as well as you that never, even in the times of the Kings of Annar, were we or any of the Seven Kingdoms under the authority of Annar. And you can be sure that I said this to Igan, emissary of Enkir of Norloch. And he said to me, ‘Nerili of Busk, things change. We have entered dangerous times, and if we are to survive them, we must change our free ways. Thoroldians must obey the new laws or be the victims of them.’ Such is the edict of Enkir of Norloch.” Nerili bowed her head. “I am ashamed to be the bearer of this news. It casts a shadow over all Bards.”
There was a wrathful murmur around the table, and Arnamil stood up again, his eyes flashing. “What did you say to this insult, Lady of Busk?” he asked. “Did you throw him out of the School, with his tail between his cowardly legs, as he deserved?”
“I did not.” Nerili looked him steadily in the eye. “Arnamil, to do so would be tantamount to severing all connection with Norloch, and would risk open war. Such a thing has not happened since the Kings ruled in Annar, and I am not prepared to risk warfare solely on my own authority.” She again looked