Kaavl Conspiracy (16 page)

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The dining hall was crowded. Usually breakfast was a quiet time, when people trickled in and out at will. Today, families sat clustered together at their tables, talking loudly to one another. The din was almost overwhelming, after the quiet of her jail cell. Apparently, everyone wanted to hear the Alliance presented. Methusal did, too.

She glanced at the platform at the far end of the dining hall, and recognized the tall figure of the Dehrien Chief. He stood with Petr and a cluster of council members. His head glinted blond in the early rays of sunlight. At this distance, he easily topped Petr’s height, who was the tallest Rolbani up there. He smiled and laughed with the people clustered around him. Magnetic charm seemed to exude from his every pore.

Methusal’s concern about the Alliance grew. What was the Dehrien’s ulterior motive? She felt certain nothing he presented would be as simple as it appeared.

She approached the counter to get her breakfast. Timaeus stood there, ladling out the sticky cereal. He glanced at her and then away.

“Timaeus. I’m so sorry!” Words couldn’t express how awful she felt.

He shrugged. “I let you escape. I deserve my punishment.’

That only made her feel worse. “Did Petr fire you from guard duty?”

“For a full pass of the moon. I get to serve breakfast instead.”

“Timaeus! How awful. Could I help you? Maybe take a few of your days?”

“No.” A small smiled tugged at his lips. “Haven’t you learned that Petr likes his orders followed to the letter?”

“Yes. But I feel horrible. I want do something to help you.”

“You can.”

“Really? What?”

“Tell me…do I have a chance with Deccia?” He flushed.

Methusal smiled. “Talk to her. I can’t tell you more, but…do it.”

He nodded. “I’ll be gone messengering to Tarst and Quasr for the next few days. Maybe when I get back.”

“Good.”

Petr banged the podium with a mallet, and Methusal slid into place at her family’s table. Her mother was there, as were all three Amils, including Behran. A frown pulled at the tense lines of Hanuh’s face. “Are you all right, Thusa?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Where’s Papa?”

Her mother gestured across the hall. Erl, Petr Storst, Liem, Verdnt, and several other important council members stood clustered at the other end of the speaking platform, arguing quietly among themselves.

“You just missed your father’s speech. He called an open meeting to discuss his concerns about the Alliance.” Worried lines etched Hanuh’s mouth. “Petr might force a vote this morning, just to end the argument. He hates dissention.”

“Are you still getting a bad feeling about the Alliance?” Methusal hoped something had changed. She didn’t want more trouble heaped on her plate, that was for sure.

“Yes. But logically…I don’t know. It sounds like a good idea. We need to carefully consider how the Alliance would affect our community.”

Ben Amil nodded. “I agree.”

Methusal also agreed that every detail should be scrutinized. But she didn’t trust Mentàll Solboshn. And as much as she would love to participate in new Inter-Community Kaavl Games, she'd rather the Alliance fail, than be allied with the possibly dangerous Dehrien Chief.

She glanced at Behran. His face revealed none of his thoughts.

Erl Maahr now threaded his way toward their table. An angry scowl knit his brows. He sat down hard. “This is foolish! The second clause
gives away
our autonomy. Dehre and Tarst only need to agree together on any issue and we’ll be forced to go along with it!”

“What do you mean?”

“Dehre and Tarst can join together. Pass any law they want. We’d have to abide by it, even if we disagreed. Petr says that would never happen.” He growled, “
Arghhh!
I don’t like this at all. Petr’s too interested in reelection to think clearly. Signing this Alliance could cost Rolban everything!”

Surely Petr wouldn’t agree to an Alliance that could hurt Rolban—no matter how much he wanted to be reelected. Methusal’s uncomfortable stay in jail last night returned to mind. She’d learned first-hand that Petr would go to any lengths to achieve his goals…and to prove he was the boss. She touched her jaw, still sore from sleeping on her tablet necklace on the hard cot. All of a sudden, the necklace felt constricting. She took it off and placed it next to her plate, and turned around on the bench so she could see the front of the room better.

Kitran made his way to the speaking platform with the shell amplifier in hand. He motioned for silence.

“As we’ve heard, the Alliance is a contentious issue. Signing it means taking a step of trust and friendship toward our old enemies, the Dehriens and the Tarst. As most of you know, we already trade with the Tarst, and Erl and Petr have become good friends with their leader, Pan Patn. We trust them. Now Dehre has extended its hand of friendship to us, too. Years of mistrust and hatred can end now. We can begin to build friendships that will endure for centuries. For our children’s children.

“Friendship or fear. Today we make that choice.” Kitran shook Mentàll’s hand.

People in the hall burst into chatter. The din reverberated in the stone room.

“Silence, please!” Petr bellowed through the shell amplifier.
“This morning we have a special guest with us; the honorable Mentàll Solboshn from Dehre. Mentàll, we are pleased to have you here.”

With a smile, the Dehrien Chief bowed slightly.

“Mentàll journeyed from Dehre to bring us the Alliance. We certainly appreciate your effort.”

The Dehrien Chief inclined his head.

“This morning, we’ve heard Erl Maahr’s concerns about the Alliance, and Kitran’s argument in favor of peace and friendship. Now we will hear from Mentàll, himself. As co-author of this new Alliance, he has worked long and hard to design a treaty that will advance the best interests of Rolban, Dehre, and Tarst. He is a visionary, in my opinion.

“Fellow Rolbanis, please warmly welcome Mentàll Solboshn, Chief of Dehre!” Petr stepped back, and the Rolbani people clapped enthusiastically. New faces were a rare treat,
and many people were probably eager to hear what a Dehrien
Chief might have to say.

“Fellow Rolbanis!” With a smile, Mentàll Solboshn stepped forward. “I feel honored to finally meet you face to face. Kitran and Petr have told me a great deal about Rolban, but already your warm, generous welcome has far exceeded my hopes. Thank you. Someday soon, I hope to be able to return your kindness.”

He glanced about the room, and a wide smile stretched his angular face. “I’d never visited Rolban before, but already
I can see it is a fine community, with citizens who are forward
looking and eager to embrace the future. These are qualities I applaud, and ones vitally important to this new age.”

He paused, and his tone took a serious turn. “The Great War is behind us, and I believe it is time to forge on to the future. We must learn to trust each other, and form ties that will help not only ourselves, but each other. I firmly believe this Alliance will provide that stronger future.” He paused again, and glanced slowly about the room, as if trying to meet each person’s gaze.

“We must work together if we want to improve life in our communities. Each community possesses different skills and talents, and I believe we need to pool our resources. Work together. I believe this is the only way to strengthen us all.

“I desire a strong, secure future, and I trust you do, too. So I strongly urge you to sign this new Alliance. I am convinced it is in Rolban’s best interests, just as it is Dehre and Tarst’s. May we put the past behind us and reach
together
for the future—a future truly bright with hope and promise. Thank you.”

Deafening applause broke out as he stepped down from the platform. Slowly, Methusal clapped, too. He was definitely a charismatic speaker. If she didn’t thoroughly distrust him, she’d be inclined to favor the Alliance. In fact, even being suspicious of Mentàll Solboshn couldn’t dislodge a small part of her that wished the Alliance could be for the good.

Petr held the amplifier now, and when the hubbub subsided he spoke, his voice strong and ringing with conviction.

“I hold in my hand the terms of the Alliance. The document has already been signed by Dehre, and the Tarst will sign it tomorrow. Pan Patn has assured me of this fact. It awaits only my signature for it to become law for our community, too.” He paused, his gaze seeking and challenging each individual council member who sat in the dining hall.

“We have heard Erl’s concerns, and they are legitimate concerns. But we’ve also heard Mentàll’s call to the future. I believe it is a call we must heed. Now is the time to put away all doubts. We must join together, so we can all be strengthened.” He paused. Echoes of his voice rang in the cavern.

His white head bent to the paper he held. “I will now read the document.”

We, Rolban, Tarst, and Dehre do solemnly commit to uphold the statutes of this Alliance as written herein:

Number One: We do commit to freely trade among ourselves with no restrictions being placed on buyers or sellers of any community.

Number Two: We do commit to open dialogue and an exchange of ideas—no one community bearing the authority to strike down or resist any mandate or law passed by both the other two communities combined, and

Number Three: We do solemnly commit to the safety of all citizens traversing to and within our settlements, and do commit to help each other in times of distress.”

Petr paused for a significant moment. “In my opinion, we must sign this treaty. This Alliance protects our future, and our children’s future. This is our golden moment in history, and we cannot afford to pass it over in ignorance or fear. We must act now!” He gazed boldly about the room. “We will now take a vote. Raise your hand if you are with me, and for the future of this community!”

A wave of hands exploded into the air. Petr’s jaw elevated
in triumph. “All those opposed?”

An audible
whoosh
as hands fell. In their place rose a few scattered arms. Her mother and father, and Ben and Poli Amil were among them. Methusal glanced around to see who else opposed the treaty. Old Sims was one, and Liem…

“The motion is passed!” Petr dropped the white decision stone to the floor. The crash made Methusal jump. The remaining hands quickly lowered, so she wasn’t able to see who else opposed it. She glanced behind her, at Behran. How had he voted?

Petr Storst strode down to a table and with bold marks signed his name to the Alliance. He raised the white parchment above his head, tightly clenched in his fist. “It is law! Long live the Alliance!”

Applause burst out, sounding and resounding throughout the hall, and the Dehrien Chief stepped down to shake Petr’s hand.

Methusal’s father looked bitterly discouraged. Foreboding grew in the pit of her stomach as she watched council members walk forward to shake Mentàll’s hand. They clearly trusted him.

There he stood, smiling at everyone. A cold smile, in Methusal’s opinion. A calculating one. He’d manipulated everyone to do his will. But what was his plan? Besides what her father had said, the Alliance appeared harmless. In fact, it could help each community in many ways. So what was his ulterior motive in forming it?

As Methusal ate her cold cereal the exultant, boisterous crowd gradually exited.

“I’m sorry, Erl. You gave it your best try.” Hanuh gently squeezed his hand. Her eyes looked troubled. Methusal felt more than a little troubled, too. She hadn’t forgotten her
mother’s prediction that the Alliance would put her in danger.

It wasn’t hard to guess how. After clashing with Mentàll in the jail cell—not to mention suffering through her nightmare—her mother’s premonition didn’t seem so far-fetched. Foreboding settled in her spirit.

Erl sighed. “Let’s wait and see what changes this will bring.”

“It may turn out fine,” Ben said hopefully. “We stand to gain a lot. What I wouldn’t give for some racmun spirits! The plains people make it the best.”

Erl nodded. His gray eyes blended with his tired, pale face. “You’re probably right. Maybe I’m just a paranoid old fool.”

Her parents and the Amils soon left, so Methusal finished her breakfast alone, and then deposited her plate and utensils into the sudsy water and headed for the Grand Staircase. Once out in the main passage, however, her hand flew to her neck. Her necklace! She couldn’t lose it again. She hurried back to the table and snatched it up. As she turned, she almost bumped into someone.

“Oh! Sorry.” Looking up, she froze. Mentàll Solboshn. The dream flooded back. And her terror.

His lips curled into a cold smile. “I see you are free.”

“Petr released me.”

His gaze fell to the necklace in her hand and narrowed for the briefest moment. He eyed the raised “M” and then, to her surprise, reached out and flipped the tablet over in her hand. One tanned finger lightly traced the large “M” scratched into the surface, and the small “r” in the far right, bottom corner. His presumptuous action startled her so much that she didn’t react for a second, but then her fingers curled protectively around the necklace.

Those pale eyes focused on her again. “A family heirloom?”

“Yes,” she said shortly. It took every ounce of her willpower not to back away. She refused to reveal her fear to this man.

“Guard it well, Methusal Maahr.” The low words sounded like a threat. It reminded her of the nightmare. He bared his teeth in a small, hostile smile and brushed by her.

She struggled to forget the disturbing dream. It wasn’t real.

Why was Mentàll so interested in her family’s necklace? And why did he warn her to guard it? The necklace was old, but it wasn’t valuable.

She decided to take the Dehrien Chief’s warning seriously,
however, because he struck her as one who chose his words with care.