Chapter 407: The Gathering of Shadows

Chapter 406: The Gathering of Shadows

The building was abandoned.

Its windows were boarded, its walls crumbling in places, and the only light came from a single flickering lantern set upon a crate at the centre of the room. Dust motes drifted in the dim glow, disturbed by the movement of cloaked figures who stood in the shadows with their faces concealed behind masks.

The room had once belonged to someone of standing.

There were still traces of it beneath the neglect. The remnants of expensive wallpaper peeling at the corners, the carved edge of a mantelpiece half-buried beneath dust and disuse, a chandelier hanging crookedly from the ceiling as though it had simply given up the effort of remaining straight. Time and abandonment had reduced the place to little more than a shell of what it had been.

It was, however, precisely the sort of place in which secrets could be kept without difficulty.

No one spoke.

The silence stretched, broken only by the occasional creak of old wood settling against itself and the distant sound of wind moving through the cracks in the walls.

Those gathered had long since learned not to fill silence merely because it was uncomfortable.

Some matters demanded patience above all else.

Then the door opened.

A man stepped inside, his cloak dark and heavy, his mask concealing his features entirely. Behind him came another figure — his guard, perhaps — similarly cloaked, who took his position beside the door as it closed with a soft, deliberate sound.

The man had scarcely taken two steps into the room when a voice came from the shadows.

"You are late."

The man who had entered inclined his head slightly.

"My apologies."

He removed neither his mask nor his cloak.

"I was obliged to ensure that I had not been followed. The palace is rather watchful, and I considered it considerably wiser to arrive late than to bring unwanted company with me."

A large man standing near the corner shifted his weight.

"I should hope so."

His voice was low and measured. He regarded the newcomer for several moments before continuing.

"Though I confess your precautions are not what concerns me this evening."

The newcomer said nothing as the large man clasped his hands behind his back.

"I have been giving considerable thought to the princess." He paused. "What, precisely, do you see in her that leaves you so certain she is the one? After what occurred at the arena, I find myself considerably less persuaded than I was before. Perhaps we have placed our confidence in the wrong person."

A woman standing opposite him spoke before anyone else could answer.

"The Goddess has not yet blessed her," she said. "Until the competition reaches its conclusion, none of us can know with any certainty whom the Goddess intends to choose."

"That may be so," the large man replied. "But we are not discussing certainty. We are discussing whether she possesses the judgement necessary for what lies ahead of her."

Another man, seated upon a crate near the back of the room, released a slow and weary breath.

"Whatever doubts we may harbour, the circumstances beyond these walls are becoming increasingly difficult to ignore."

He leaned forward, resting his forearms upon his knees.

"There are raids already. The Crown is taking people into custody upon the flimsiest of pretexts, charging them with treason where there is scarcely sufficient evidence to justify so much as an accusation. And all of it is being connected, in one fashion or another, to the princess."

He paused then added.

"The one upon whom all our hopes rest."

"That," the first man said quietly, "is precisely why I have my doubts."

He turned toward the newcomer.

"She acts before she has considered what may follow. One cannot disregard consequence simply because one’s intentions are noble. That is not courage. It is recklessness. And recklessness in a person upon whom others depend is considerably more dangerous than cowardice."

The newcomer took a measured step forward.

"People make mistakes," he said. "And she made one. I see little wisdom in condemning a person entirely upon the basis of a single misjudgement."

He allowed a brief pause before continuing.

"She has not demonstrated herself unfit for what we have planned. A single error does not prove she is not the one. And I will say plainly that I found what she did rather admirable. It demonstrated that she possesses the very quality we require, the spark."

"A spark may be admired from a distance," another woman said from the far side of the room. "Closer still, and it may set fire to everything around it."

She continued without waiting for a response.

"That same courage you admire will get every one of us killed if she does not learn to govern it. Noble impulse without wisdom to temper it is simply destruction with better intentions."

No one disagreed.

The silence that followed had a weight to it.

Then one of the men turned toward the newcomer.

"And the gentleman you intended to approach?" he asked. "Have you spoken with him?"

The newcomer hesitated.

"No." A slight pause followed the word. "I have not yet had the opportunity to raise the matter with him directly."

"And when do you intend to?"

"Soon."

The man’s eyes narrowed behind his mask.

"You have been intending to do so for some considerable time."

"I am aware of that."

"Then I trust you are equally aware that there is a distinction between waiting for the appropriate occasion and allowing an opportunity to pass altogether through excessive caution."

The newcomer did not take offence.

"I shall speak with him when the moment is right," he said. "Not before."

Before the man could respond, another voice entered the conversation.

It belonged to an older man who had remained silent until now. His voice was rough with age, yet there was an authority that did not announce itself that caused the room to fall still without effort.

"And when, precisely, do you believe that moment will present itself?"

The newcomer said nothing and the old man exhaled slowly.

"That is up to your judgement then. I have conducted certain investigations of my own," he said, "and I have discovered something which may prove of considerably greater importance than the matter presently occupying our attention."

Every face in the room turned toward him.

"There is another group. One not unlike our own. And I have reason to believe that their purpose and ours are not so far removed from one another as one might initially suppose."

A moment of quiet followed his words.

"Then that is welcome news," someone said. "Surely we might approach them. If their interests are aligned with ours, there is little sense in remaining divided when unity would serve us considerably better."

The older man inclined his head.

"That is precisely what I intend to propose. We require every ally we can secure. The Crown grows increasingly suspicious of dissent, and suspicion has a habit of becoming persecution once those in power believe themselves sufficiently threatened. That is why I called this meeting without notice."

His attention came to rest upon the newcomer with a steadiness that suggested the rest of what he had said had been preparation for this.

"We ought to join forces with this other group."

The newcomer regarded him for several moments.

"We do not know who these people are," he said.

"Then we should learn."

"That is hardly sufficient reason to extend our confidence to strangers."

"No," the old man replied, "But you do know them. That is sufficient reason enough."

The newcomer’s posture stiffened.

"You know their leader," the old man said. "He is, after all, somewhat acquainted with you."