The Crystal Shard(The Icewind Dale Trilogy 1)(59)

"This is a pitiful attempt indeed!" Kemp roared. He looked around at his fellow spokesmen. "A pitiful effort by Agorwal and his scheming supporters to bring about a favorable settlement for Termalaine in their dispute with Targos!"

Incited by the aura of suspicion that Kemp had infused, Schermont, the new spokesman from Caer-Konig, pointed an accusing finger at Jensin Brent of Caer-Dineval. "What part have you played in this treachery?" he spat at his bitter rival. Schermont had come into his position after the first spokesman from Caer-Konig had been killed on the waters of Lac Dinneshere in a battle with a Dineval boat. Dorim Lugar had been Schermont's friend and leader, and the new spokesman's policies toward hated Caer-Dineval were even more iron-handed than those of his predecessor.

Regis and Bruenor sat back quietly in helpless dismay through all of the initial bickering. Finally Cassius slammed his gavel down, snapping its handle in two, and quieting the others long enough to make a point.

"A few moments of silence!" he commanded. "Hold your venomous words and listen to the messenger of grim tidings!" The others fell back to their seats and remained silent, but Cassius feared that the damage had already been done.

He turned the floor over to Regis.

Honestly terrified by what he had learned from the captive orc, Regis passionately told of the battle his friends had won over the verbeeg lair and on the grass of Daledrop. "And Bruenor has captured one of the orcs that was escorting the giants," he said emphatically. Some of the spokesmen sucked in their breath at the notion of such creatures banding together, but Kemp and some of the others, ever suspicious of the more immediate threats of their rivals, and already decided on the true purpose of the meeting, remained unconvinced.

"The orc told us," Regis continued grimly, "of the coming of a powerful wizard, Akar Kessell, and his vast host of goblins and giants! They mean to conquer Ten-Towns!" He thought that his dramatics would prove effective.

But Kemp was outraged. "On the word of an orc, Cassius? You summoned us in from the lakes at this critical time on the threat of a stinking orc?"

"The halfling's tale is not an uncommon one," Schermont added. "All of us have heard a captured goblin wag its tongue in any direction it could think of to save its worthless head."

"Or perhaps you had other motives," Kemp hissed, again eyeing Agorwal.

Cassius, though he truly believed the grim tidings, sat back in his chair and said nothing. With tensions on the lakes as high as they were, and the final trading fair of a particularly fruitless fishing season fast approaching, he had suspected that this would occur. He looked resignedly at Bruenor and Regis and shrugged as once again the council degenerated into a shouting match.

Amidst the ensuing commotion, Regis slipped the ruby pendant out from under his waistcoat and nudged Bruenor.

They looked at it and each other in disappointment; they had hoped that the magical gem wouldn't be needed.

Regis pounded his gavel in a call for the floor and was granted it by Cassius. Then, as he had done five years previous, he hopped up on the table and walked toward his chief antagonist.

But this time the result wasn't what Regis had expected. Kemp had spent many hours over the last five years reflecting on that council before the barbarian invasion. The spokesman was glad of the final outcome of that whole situation, and, in truth, realized that he and all of Ten-Towns were indebted to the halfling for making them heed his warning. Yet it bothered Kemp more than a little that his initial stance had been so easily swayed. He was a brawling type whose first love, even above fishing, was battle, but his mind was keen and always-alert to danger. He had observed Regis several times over the last few years and had listened intently to tales of the halfling's prowess in the art of persuasion. As Regis approached, the burly spokesman averted his eyes.

"Be gone trickster!" he growled, shoving his chair defensively back from the table. "You seem to have a strange way of convincing people of your point of view, but I'll not fall under your spell this time!" He addressed the other spokesmen. "Ware the halfling! He has some magic about him, be sure!"

Kemp understood that he would have no way of proving his claims, but he also realized that he wouldn't have to. Regis looked about, flustered and unable to even answer the spokesman's accusations. Even Agorwal, though the spokesman from Termalaine tactfully tried to hide the fact, would no longer look Regis straight in the eye.

"Sit down, trickster!" Kemp taunted. "Your magic's no good once we're on to you!"

Bruenor, silent up to now, suddenly leaped up, his face contorted with rage. "Is this, too, a trick, dog of Targos?" the dwarf challenged. He pulled a sack from his belt and rolled its contents, a severed verbeeg head, down the table toward Kemp. Several of the spokesmen jumped back in horror, but Kemp remained unshaken.

"We have dealt with rogue giants many times before," the spokesman replied coolly.

"Rogues?" Bruenor echoed incredulously. "Two score o' the beasts we cut down, orcs and ogres besides!"

"A passing band," Kemp explained evenly, stubbornly. "And all dead, so you have said. Why, then, does this become a matter for the council? If it is accolades you desire, mighty dwarf, then you shall have them!" His voice dripped with venom, and he watched Bruenor's reddening face with deep pleasure. "Perhaps Cassius could make a speech in your honor before all of the people of Ten-Towns." Bruenor slammed his fists onto the table, eyeing all of the men about him in an open threat to anyone who would continue Kemp's insults. "We have come before ye to help ye save yer homes an' yer kin!" he roared. "Might be that ye believe us and ye'll do something to survive. Or might be that ye'll hear the words o' the dog o' Targos and ye'll do nothin'. Either way, I've had enough o' ye! Do as ye will, and may yer gods show ye favor!" He turned and stalked out of the room.