Garivald, for once, felt a certainsympathy for the firstman. Waddo had been reporting the iniquities of theAlgarvians, all of them lovingly detailed on the crystal that had recently cometo the Unkerlanter village. Like everyone else in Zossen, Garivald had expectedthe next bombastic announcement would be of the Unkerlanter invasion ofAlgarvian-occupied Forthweg, and probably of Yanina as well. Instead, a fewdays before, the crystal announced that the Algarvians had without warningattacked Unkerlanter forces engaged in no warlike activity. A palace spokesmanhad declared that the Algarvians would be beaten. He had not said how.

Since then, silence.

Silence till now, silence that let fearbuild, especially among the older villagers who remembered how the Algarvianshad hammered Unkerlant during the Six Years’ War thirty years before. Gossipand rumor filled Zossen--and doubtless filled every other peasant villagethroughout the vast length and breadth of Unkerlant. Garivald had taken part,cautiously, with people he trusted. “If things were going well,” he’d said toDagulf, “Cottbus would be shouting its head off. It’s not. That means thingscan’t be going well.”

“Makes sense to me,” scar-faced Dagulf hadsaid: also cautiously, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one, not evenhis wife, could overhear.

Now Waddo stood in the center of thesquare, waiting to be noticed. He struck a pose that guaranteed he would benoticed. “My friends,” he said in a loud voice. A couple of people looked hisway, but only a couple; he didn’t have a lot of friends in the village. Then hespoke again, even louder: “People of Zossen, I have an important announcement.In one hour’s time, I shall bring our precious crystal from my home to thesquare here, so that you may listen to an address by our famous, glorious, andillustrious sovereign. His Majesty King Swemmel will speak to you on the stateof our war against the barbarous savages of Algarve.”