Dragons of the Valley by Donita K. Paul

to theirs went out but did not come back. I had thought it too early to be concerned, but with these other developments, I fear foul play.”
    Sir Beccaroon bobbed his head and moved back to the table, hopping onto the perch. “I, too, have unsettling reports. The correspondence from my district is sketchy. Whereas in the past, my constables have sent very lucid accounts, this last batch contained rambling, disjointed information. From what I could pull out of these notes, either discontent or a malaise has captured my countrymen. They either stew verbally about their lot in life, or they sit in a morose stupor.”
    Verrin Schope’s head came up, and he looked directly into Beccaroon’s eyes. “For some reason, the statues are no longer in line. I feel the effects as well.”
    The king made a scoffing noise and deliberately ignored his son-in-law. He placed his hands flat on the table and looked at each of the other men sitting with him. “We must first determine which of these threats is most dangerous. We’ll prioritize them and set about making a plan to eliminate each menace.”
    A knock on the door interrupted the king. “Come,” he called out in annoyance.
    The footman appeared in the doorway. “An urgent message for Chief Advisor Likens, your majesty.”
    “Send him in.”
    A disheveled courier bowed quickly to his king, then hurried to pass a folded paper to Likens.
    The emerlindian councilman dismissed him. “You may wait outside.”
    After reading quickly through the one-page missive, Chief Advisor Likens glanced around the table. “This is unconscionable. A citizen of Chiril has been tried in Baardack courts and sentenced to death.”
    “What’s this?” asked King Yellat. “Surely they wouldn’t throw our diplomatic relations to the wind.”
    Likens threw the paper he held onto the table. “There’s more. The man is dead. And I probably wouldn’t have been informed now except that Trader Bount was executed in Baardack and his body shipped home in a basket. A Baardack vessel sailed into Sandeego. The sailors dumped the basket and the merchandise Bount had taken to trade on the dock. A litigation pronouncement tagged the basket. Evidently, a Baardack citizen filed a grievance against Bount for a shady business deal. He was found guilty and hung.”
    The king exploded out of his chair. “Preposterous. How dare they?”
    Advisor Cornagin leaned forward, one clenched hand resting on a stack of papers. “All foreigners must be isolated, returned to their homeland, and denied entrance in the future.”
    “On what grounds?” asked King Yellat. “We’ve good relations with all of our neighboring countries. If we treat their citizens with disrespect, the action will escalate this incident with Baardack.”
    “I’m more concerned for our countrymen who have not returned,” said Chief Advisor Likens. “I recommend sending a delegation toBaardack to make inquiries and, if necessary, lodge a protest with King Odidoddex.”
    “I agree,” the king said and turned to the marione advisor, Malidore. “We must also lay to rest the notion that we are not in control of Chiril’s destiny. In the same fashion that the first stories spread through the streets, let the people know that we have secreted the
Trio of Elements
statues to safety.”
    Paladin broke his silence. “I find it strange that the rumors of the insurgent army and theft from the castle spread so quickly.”
    “Yes,” said Chief Advisor Likens. “That says to me that something beyond the normal dispersion of gossip is at play.”
    Beccaroon eyed the men in the room. Everyone but Verrin Schope followed the conversation with keen interest. The artist sat with his chin propped on his hand, still looking preoccupied.
    Was he listening? Perhaps he dreamed about his stay in Amara and the intriguing tales of a god called Wulder who ruled above kings and queens. Would Beccaroon’s old friend ever again be of any use to his people?
    Paladin