"The question is meaningless, Your Highness. It was the elf who unleashed the phaerimm. "

An astonished murmur filled the chamber. Paying no attention, Mourngrym turned to gesture at Galaeron, and at last Galaeron understood what he had been seeing-or rather, not seeing-in the eyes of the Dalesman.

Anger clouded Alusair's face.

"Lord Mourngrym, " she said, "as a guest in my realm, you owe me the courtesy of an answer. "

Mourngrym responded with an counterfeit smile.

"Of course, Your Highness. What I fail to understand… "

Galaeron did not hear the rest of the answer, for his own thoughts were whirling like one of the cyclones that had of late been laying waste to so many of Faer?n's farms and villages. The Dalesmen's attack on him had been carefully coordinated, with the envoys of lesser stature laying the groundwork for a final indictment by their most respected member. Given that the three came from the same area, it seemed entirely plausible they had come together before the council and settled on the strategy, but Galaeron suspected another explanation-a far more menacing one.

He leaned toward Ruha and felt a Purple Dragon's armored hand grasping his shoulder.

"Milord, " the soldier whispered. "I think the princess meant for you to stay in your own chair. "

"As I will. " Though Galaeron answered in an amiable tone, it was all he could do to keep from cursing the man aloud. If he was right-and he was-the last thing he needed was the lout drawing attention to him. "I only wanted to thank Harper Ruha for her support"

Ruha raised her kohl-rimmed eyes to the guard and said, "Galaeron will do me no harm. "

The soldier regarded her suspiciously for a moment, then nodded gruffly and released Galaeron's shoulder. Ruha looked to Galaeron, and as Alusair and Mourngrym continued their argument in more heated tones, waited.