The Silver Mage - Katharine Kerr [182]
“Ai!” Jahdo said. “It does make my heart beat faster, to see a dragon fly, still yet after all these long years.”
Once the workmen had finished the platform, the town drummer climbed onto it and set up his enormous leather drum. When Jahdo gave the signal, the drummer began to beat upon it with two sticks in a slow but steady rhythm. A few at a time, at first, the townsfolk who lived on Citadel began to climb the path and gather on the plaza. When Dallandra looked down to the lake, she saw a bobbing flotilla of coracles making their way across from the crannog town.
It took some while to assemble the citizens on the plaza and the officials on the platform. Dar stood off to one side, his eyes fixed on the horizon, his lips moving as he mouthed parts of his speech to come. Jahdo and Grallezar conferred briefly, while Calonderiel and Drav talked with the two militia men who’d been chosen to stand with them as a show of joint force. Cleddrik kept off by himself, his face gray with fear. Occasionally, he took a rag out of his brigga pocket and mopped sweat from his face.
Artha arrived and Niffa with her, squabbling over some fine point of theology, to stand behind the platform with the rest of the Council of Five. As she watched the two women together, Dallandra realized that they had known each other since childhood. Their arguments, doubtless continued over the years, offered them as much comfort as reassurances would have given to someone else.
At last the pounding drum fell silent. Jahdo stepped forward and raised both hands in the air. The crowd quieted down, quickly in front, slowly at the rear.
“Citizens!” Jahdo called out. “We all do know why we do gather here. The times be grave and fearsome. Let us delay no longer in facing what we must do.”
The citizens clapped their approval. The older people in the crowd called out Dar’s name with some enthusiasm, though some of the younger women looked as gray and fearful as Cleddrik.
Grallezar, however, spoke first, with Drav standing behind her on guard.
“Ye good folk of Cerr Cawnen!” Grallezar began. “I come here in shame to offer my apologies to you all. My own city of Braemel once did count you as allies, and faithful allies you were. Alas, as you well know, the foul swine who serve the demoness Alshandra did wrest that city from me and mine and send us into exile.”
The crowd murmured in acknowledgment. Dallandra kept a sharp watch on Cleddrik and saw him wince over Grallezar’s sneer at Alshandra.
“All I can offer you now is my advice,” Grallezar continued, “to take or spurn as you will. Behold Prince Daralanteriel of the Westlands, another faithful ally of yours. I would ask you all to listen most carefully to what he does say.”
Grallezar and Drav moved back to allow Daralanteriel to come forward on the platform. He bowed to the crowd, then launched straight into his speech.
“Exalted Mother Grallezar called me a prince, but truly, the lands I was born to rule lie in ruins far to the west. You may have heard of them as the Seven Cities of the far mountains and the Vale of Roses. The Horsekin destroyed them, burning, looting, raping our women, killing anything that lived within our walls. The bards have passed the tale down, and truly, I think your scops, as you call them, know it as well.”
Among the crowd, the older people murmured their agreement.
“I am not your prince,” Dar went on. “I cannot command you or enslave you. You are a free people. All I can do is offer to help you stay free. I have archers, I have swordsmen, I have riders who have fought the Horsekin before and won. You have brave soldiers who can fight beside mine. Yet neither you nor I have enough men to save this city. All we can do is save your lives, your children, your livestock, and whatever you can carry away.” He paused, looking out at the assembly, staring directly at one person then another, and by catching their individual gazes, he caught the entire crowd. “I can give you land, but you shall