Fawnlum was impressed with Andgia’s motivation, if not her compassion.  But if this was a military decision to make, then the food crop needed by the north would have to be preserved, as she said.

She expected the logic to silence Mettrals, and noticed the stony look Byrnem gave the vest-bedecked minister.  But it was Armstrun who spoke next.

“Lady Lichner.  We have seen the signs you have spoken of.”

She had never heard a voice so measured, and balanced to the point that its author sounded devoid of emotion.

Fawnlum took a new scrutiny of him.  The whole look of the man spoke of control of his person.  His black hair was combed back and neatly trimmed; his face was shaven without any stubble, save for a perfectly groomed mustache and goatee; and his clothes were well-made and well-kept.  Despite all that, something about his appearance looked unnatural.  She could not put her finger on it, but if he was working so hard to stay balanced and composed, what was he hiding?

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “even in light of that, we can’t send for royal troops, to simply have them sit and guard our forest.  Not while there’s an enemy currently walking over their own borders.”

Mettrals and Cuiverve gave nods.

“What about the land that has been corrupted by this evil presence?”

“Spare us your philosophy, please,” Mettrals sighed.  “Belief does not make crops grow.  Soil does.  The soil of our farms is fine.”

“Have you not seen the rot growing on the plants in the forest?” she asked, letting a bit of hostile undertone slip through.

“The decay will spread.  That’s what decay does.  The surrounding lands will be unfit to live on.”

“Are you a seer?  Do spirits talk to you?”

“The spirit of Nature,” she answered, in a serene tone, “gives strength to your land to begin with, and lends its vitality for creatures to live and food to grow.

“To allow the agents of this foul touch to continue to poison the spirits’ home, is to invite an attack on the city itself.”

Mettrals looked impassive to her words, but she did not challenge him to a stare-down.

With a detached smile, he asked, “And how do you know the darkness will continue to spread?”

How valuable Viognia’s lessons were proving now, as Fawnlum kept herself from biting the head off the little piddler.

Instead, she simply let her smile stay, letting it grow in its decorum, ready to snub her nose at the entire world.

Mettrals adjusted himself in his chair.

“Because if I was using it with an army of tri-cleorps, that’s what I would do.”

Trejur gave a satisfied exhale, while Andgia leaned back with her arms folded, and watched Mettrals expectantly.  His turn of the head became a clear beacon, of a man looking for support in the presence of important people.

Fawnlum felt the focus in the room center on the two of them, and now she watched closely, wondering if he could by willpower alone force the sweat-drop on his shiny forehead back into its pore.

“What would you have us do, then?” he asked, very carefully.

Armstrun suddenly stepped back into the conversation, rescuing him.  “Perhaps call the Humboldt armies?  Even if we placed their soldiers in the forest, it would do as little good as when we sent our own patrols in.

“That forest is a large place; and those creatures can avoid anything that walks.  Their vision in the darkness is legendary.  And we know a type of foul magic is feeding those shrooms.”  He waved a polite hand to Trejur.  “Even the powerful elves were not able to stop their growth.”

Trejur’s own eyes remained passive, but deliberately focused ahead, away from the well-groomed man and his comment.

Leaning forward, he continued, “We all acknowledge the tri-cleorps are a threat.  However, they’re not coming out of the forest in great enough numbers, for our allies to leave their own lands unguarded.”

“You can’t fight an army you can’t see,” Mettrals confidently added.

“In the meantime,” Armstrun calmly went on, ignoring the extra quip from his fellow, “the best we can do is hire sell-swords like yourself, to try and stem the tide.”

“Do you have any better ways to fix this situation?” asked Claptic, putting in his own remark.

“Of course not, good sirs and ladies.”  The friendly nature of Fawnlum’s response surprised even her, as she recognized the two different schools of thought in the room.  “In bringing you this word, I seek only to help.  If no allies are coming,…”

She did not know what she could do to make anyone agree with her.  But the comfort that came, as she accepted her own personal calling in the situation, lifted her spirits.  She could feel it in her smile.

“Then, more for me.”

She did not have to look at Mettrals, to see him resisting the urge to dab this time at two sweat drops appearing on his pate.

She turned to Byrnem, and gave a polite bow.

“By your leave.”

Melbourne opened the door for her.  Before she reached the threshold, the mayor spoke.

“Lady Lichner?”

She paused and looked back.

“If you learn anything more, you have leave to report to this council.”

Fawnlum regarded him respectfully, and gave another small nod in recognition of his courtesy.

She was seeing in action yet another thing Viognia had taught her – – a thing that compelled good people to do nothing, and ignore their principles for the sake of ‘group-preference’.  It led to war and famine, when convenience was placed before truth, to be surmised in one particularly nasty word.

“Politics,” the young heroine quietly whispered.

“Hm?”

“Just talking to myself,” she said, as they reached the end of the hall, and started down the stairs.

“Disappointed?”

“A bit,” she answered.

“I appreciate your attempt.”

“Even despite the fact these tribes are working together,” she said, voicing her thoughts.

“Yes.”

“But these tribes are.”

“Somebody must be forcing them to.”

“Whoever’s organizing them, they’re doing a good job.”

“I had hoped, since you’ve had such quick victory, they would listen to you.  But still, affairs of state blind the prominent to the threat taking shape before them.”

Fawnlum noticed his level tone of voice.  “Does Trejur represent a belief on the part of the elves that a greater threat is coming?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone who stays here,” he told her, as they exited the building, “will be standing alone against whatever comes.”