The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy by R. T. Kaelin Page B

saying clearly, “There has been almost no pushback from our soldiers. The Dust Men are absent. People have been left to defend their homes without the help of the duke’s army. Chaos rules the west.”
    Jak bit his lip. Joshmuel’s choice of words was more accurate than he knew.
    “So, great Lords and Ladies, Boah and I traveled to Freehaven, hoping to petition the First Council to lend aid to the Borderlands.” He paused again, spared a quick glance at his compatriot—who nodded firmly—and then added, somewhat reluctantly, “In addition to our previous request, we now also ask the council to seek answers to the poor response by the Dust Men.” Joshmuel bowed at the waist. “That is all, great Lord.”
    Joshmuel’s last word had barely tumbled from his lips when the Borderlands’ baron sat forward, looked in Duke Kyle’s direction, and asked, “My Lord, may I speak?” After a curt nod from the duke, Lord Tilas shifted his gaze on the pair of men before the council.
    “As I said last turn when these… men —” the word was said with an audible sneer “—came before us, I have no idea about what they speak. There are no ‘invaders’ from Sudash marching through the Borderlands. I again contend that these men are mad.”
    The baron’s words stunned Jak. Shooting a questioning look to his left, Jak found Zecus equally astonished, if not more so. Zecus had seen the invasion firsthand, having been captured by oligurts and razorfiends deep within Borderland territory.
    From beneath the green and white banner of the Marshlands, Duke Rholeb spoke up.
    “Baron Tilas, I respectfully disagree with your ‘assessment’ of the situation.”
    While the duke’s tone was polite on its surface, an undercurrent of strained fury bubbled beneath it.
    Turning to face the Marshlands’ sovereign, Lord Tilas said, “I’m sorry you feel as such, my Lord, but I would know the affairs of the Borderlands infinitely better than you, would I not? I assure you, there is no danger from Sudash.”
    The baron’s disrespectful tone prompted a low, whispered buzz to ripple through the balcony.
    Glaring at Lord Tilas, Duke Rholeb growled, “I have nineteen thousand Borderlands’ refugees sitting outside of my capital, begging for food, that say otherwise, Tilas!”
    Lord Tilas sat back in his chair and said with brazen smugness, “Might they not be your own citizens? Perhaps they finally gave up trying to survive in that swampland you call a duchy and have decided to simply beg for handouts instead.”
    The blatant, open affront triggered more mumbles of disapproval amongst the crowd. Jak knew little about expected etiquette between nobles, but he was quite confident that it was bad form for a baron to insult one of the ten sovereigns publicly.
    Duke Rholeb brought his left hand down hard atop the wooden table, sending a sharp crack that echoed through the chamber.
    “Blast you, Tilas! What in the Nine Hells is going on?!”
    “Gentlemen!” exclaimed Duke Kyle. “Please! Try to keep a sense of decorum here!”
    Duke Rholeb continued to stare daggers at a grinning, haughty Lord Tilas.
    After a moment, Duke Kyle turned to the Marshlander and said, “Now, Rholeb—if Lord Tilas says there is no trouble, we are honor-bound to believe him. He is Duke Vanson’s representative and speaks for him.”
    With an upraised hand, the Great Lakes member of the council, Lord Treswell, said timidly, “My Lord, if I may add something?”
    Jak was especially curious to hear what Duke Everett’s representative had to say.
    Once Duke Kyle nodded, Lord Treswell said, “Might I point out that were there any such invasion, Duke Vanson would have surely requested aid of Duke Everett. However, to date, no such requests have been made.”
    Jak frowned. The baron had spent more care wording his statement than a one-eyed, half-blind woman would threading a needle.
    The soft, melodic voice of Duchess Aleece suddenly cut through chamber.
    “I agree