Drelk peShawm looked around a trifle wildly. Then, calming himself visibly, he said, "All right. We'll ignore the question of whether you interlopers care to look at the evidence or not. I've seen the evidence. Korvin peKorvin, have you anything to say in your own defense?"
"So I've been tried and found guilty so soon?" the Keeper asked. "You've yet to demonstrate that my books are not in order."
The priest scowled and ignored that. "I've computed the amount deemed owing the Council of Elders by you, and, including charges for delinquency and other minor fines, it comes to the sum of ... ah ... eleven thousand, four hundred eighty-two weights and six, exactly. I'll expect this sum at once."
The Priest-Mayor rose solemnly from his seat. "You would take more than eleven thousand weights with you to Gelusar on this trumped-up charge? I see. That's the whole purpose of this nonsense! You've placed these wild charges as a pretext for extorting money from Sugon! Well, you won't get it. It's out of the question!"
"You keep out of this!" Drelk peShawm shouted.
But the Priest-Mayor would not keep out of it. He turned on the young priest and said, "May I remind you that I am the Priest-Mayor of Lidacor, that I am considerably your elder in the priesthood, and that I am your superior in your own Clan! I will have to ask you to restrain your tone, or we'll declare this hearing at an end at once."
"But—"
"Furthermore," the Priest-Mayor went on, "rebuilding the Temple at Gelusar is a worthy notion indeed—but the temple here at Lidacor is in need of repair as well. We feel it unjust to send money to Gelusar when it is so badly needed here."
"And," said the head of the Merchant Council, "this drain of coins would parch our economy. Money is flowing freely in Sugon for the first time in many decades—and you would skim eleven and a half thousand weights from us? Never!"
"How could we support our shipping?" demanded the Seamen's Guild representative.
"And our schools?" said the man from the college.
"Enough!" Drelk peShawm roared. "I'll hear no more of this chatter!"
He fumbled in his cloak and drew out an embossed sheet of paper. "The sum of eleven thousand, four hundred eighty-two weights and six is owing to the Council. I have with me an authorization signed by the Elder Leader Ghevin himself, instructing me to collect the delinquent sum." He tossed the document insultingly on the desk before the Priest-Mayor. "There! Would you defy the Elder Leader?"
The Priest-Mayor picked the paper up with exaggerated care. He examined it, squinting myopically, rubbing his old fingers along the surface of the paper to feel its texture. "The Elder Leader, eh? Nibro peSyg Ghevin is the name?"
"You see his signature."
"Indeed I do," the Priest-Mayor said. "But how do I know it is genuine? The Elder Ghevin is newly-elected—he has held his post no more than a year, if that much. I'm not yet familiar with his handwriting."
"I have heard," said Korvin peKorvin, "that this Elder Ghevin is a former local priest of Sugon, who was known here as a member of the Sesom clan. Odd that a Sesom should head the Clan Ghevin, isn't it?"
The Priest-Mayor folded the document slowly. "This is undoubtedly a forgery. We certainly can't turn any money over to you on the basis of this."
He flipped it casually forward. It fluttered to the ground at Drelk peShawm's feet.
The priest stared at it incredulously for a moment. "This is a conspiracy," he said huskily. "You've arranged this between yourselves, all of you. You planned it!"
He stared at Korvin peKorvin. "And you're the one who started it! I should never have allowed you that day of grace! I—"
He plunged forward suddenly, hands groping for Korvin's throat, and started to vault over the desk.
Abruptly Rahn peDom Dmorno, Uncle of Public Peace, who had been silent throughout the entire course of the conversation, rose smoothly from his seat and snared the young priest with one massive hand. Rahn peDom was a man of middle age, but of giant stature; he held the squirming Drelk peShawm for a moment, then released him, giving him a contemptuous shove that sent him staggering across the room.
"Violence!" the priest said harshly. "Laying violent hands on a priest!"
"You've forgotten who began it," the Uncle of Public Peace pointed out. "I think it's time you left Lidacor, young man."
"Impossible! Nibro peSyg ... the Council of Elders has ordered—"
"The Council of Elders is in extremely bad odor in Sugon this morning," the Uncle said. "Get aboard your deest and get going." There was a menacing glitter in his eyes.
Drelk peShawm backed toward the door. "You'll pay for what you've done today. Not merely eleven thousand weights. Nibro peSyg will handle this, you can be sure. The Council will—"
"Out of Lidacor in an hour," the Uncle boomed. "And if you're found in the province by nightfall—"
But Drelk peShawm did not remain to hear the threat. He was out of the Bank and running at top speed toward the stable where he had boarded his deest.
A procession of armed, colorfully-clad men moved down the broad, turf-covered highway that ran between Gelusar and the southern port of Tammulcor. In the lead was the Elder Grandfather Nibro peSyg Ghevin, Leader of the Council of Elders.
Nearby was the Elder Grandfather Gwyl peDrang Lokness, formerly of the Clan Sesom. He rode at the right of his former master Nibro peSyg. Gwyl peDrang was newly-elevated to the priesthood and the Council, due to the unfortunate demise of the former Elder Lokness, who had' accidentally fallen from a river packet.
The late Elder's body had been recovered several days after the accident, and full honors had been given the late Elder before a new man was chosen for his place.
On the Elder Ghevin's left rode Grandfather Drelk peShawm Brajjyd, and behind them followed a group of armed priests and acolytes. It made for an imposing sight.
"We haven't far to go," said the new Elder Lokness. "That's Tammulcor ahead."
Nibro peSyg nodded, saying nothing.
"Do you think the Director's going to give us what we ask?" Drelk peShawm asked.
"I hardly see how he can refuse," Nibro peSyg replied without looking around. "He's taken an oath by the Great Light Himself. Besides, such a thing as this Sugon revolt changes the picture entirely. The petty squabbles between the Directorate and the Council are nothing in comparison to something that threatens the peace and stability of all Nidor."
They rounded a bend in the river, and before them lay the great Bay of Tammulcor, filled with sailing vessels of all descriptions. Nibro peSyg's sharp eye picked out the curious bulk of one of the new seagoing steamers as well.
The procession made its way around the shore road to the city and headed directly for the bulky building which housed the Director, Ganz peDel Vyless. Silently, Nibro peSyg hoped the old man wouldn't give them much trouble.
The Director had been informed that the Elder Leader was coming. "It was remarkable," Nibro peSyg said to Gwyl peDrang, "how the long-distance wires to Tammulcor, which had been out of order for the late Lokness, had been miraculously repaired-when I found it necessary to use them to call Ganz."
"The Great Light provides for those who keep His ways," Gwyl peDrang said ostentatiously.
So it was as they approached the Directorate Building, they found the way lined with an honor guard in the striking black uniform of the Director's Hundred Men. Nibro studied them curiously as his retinue passed. They held themselves proudly erect, but—
They were old!
They were certainly not men in the fighting prime of their lives!