He didn't fault himself for his attitude. It was human nature. Certainly he felt proper sorrow for Windal and— what was that other conquered state?—Callah, yes ... but Bryck knew a menace only became truly real when it was directed at oneself.

He reached the end of the corridor, finding yet another set of doors and one lone stocky guard. In addition to the standard blue and scarlet costume, this one wore a gold scarf twisted in a complicated knot. A royal retainer, thought Bryck, being careful not to smile this time as he met the man's rather stony gaze.

"I've come from U'delph for an audience," he said.

The guardsman's eyes softened at that. Some not quite identifiable emotion crept onto his plump features. He dipped his thick chin and opened the doors, and Bryck entered the chancellery's main chamber.

Once more the dearth of stately trappings tickled his innate sense of the ironic. The room was a simple square, the walls bare but for Sook's blue and scarlet standard, which hung behind a large table. Around this table sat a collection of what Bryck assumed to be Sook's ministry. They were men and women with the harried look of bureaucrats, rather than the reserved air of nobility. Some eight of these figures were in agitated conference as he approached. Parchments were scattered across the long table, being passed hand to hand and flourished, as one minister or an-other tried to drive home some point in the free-for-all de-bate.

Bryck couldn't pick a leader out of the bunch. Not one of these people, each wearing a scarlet mantle and the chains of office, appeared above any other, either in demeanor or in the deference the others would offer a superior. Their squabble continued as he came to a halt, no one showing any awareness of his presence.

He tried to unravel the topic of deliberation, but it was hopeless. The matter had evidently digressed into niggling particulars of the central issue, and what was left was a jumble of mere argument.