Galloran straightened. “I don’t know.”

The crowd reacted raucously. Again Pallas called for silence.

“I find myself wondering why we convened this conclave,” Naman said, earning a chuckle from the onlookers.

“I believe there is hope for a successful offensive, or I would not have traveled here,” Galloran explained. “Nevertheless, I do not intend to lead the free people of Lyrian to a hasty demise on a hopeless campaign. I do not desire to spend your lives casually. Without a truly viable offensive strategy, I would rather you died defending your homes. My concern is that if we never take the offensive, there is no chance we can win.”

“What are you here to propose?” Pallas asked.

“We have a small window of opportunity while the armies of Maldor toil in the east against Kadara. His forces have simultaneously besieged their three largest cities, which entails a massive commitment of resources. I am the heir to Trensicourt. I am ready to regain my kingdom and to lead a rebellion. I have come into possession of a vast new stockpile of orantium. I cannot divulge the location publicly, but in private I will share the whereabouts of hundreds of globes, including a score of the larger spheres known as gatecrashers.”

This earned an excited buzz from the crowd.

“I believe we can also enlist the drinlings. They only fell out of the war after Kadara abused them. I expect we can also arouse Meridon. My sources there report that Maldor does not have a strong enough presence to suppress a revolt.”

“Assuming all of this is true,” Naman said, “how does it amount to sufficient power to combat the emperor? He has the resources of more than twenty kingdoms at his disposal. Not to mention the displacers, the manglers, the giants, and the torivors.”

“I do not imagine we could stand against his full might,” Galloran said. “We would have to outmaneuver him. Fight the battles we can win. Earn victory one step at a time.”

“Such tactics could yield modest success in the short term,” Naman allowed. “But once the emperor has dealt with Kadara and brings his full strength against us, we would fall.”

“We could fall,” Galloran admitted. “But embracing any other strategy makes our doom certain.”

Naman shook his head. “Not only will we fall just as certainly if we pursue an offensive like you describe, we will fall sooner than with any other tactic. Our nation applauds your motives. For years the citizens of Trensicourt have tacitly followed the orders of imperial puppets. We would welcome them to openly resist the emperor. And we would rejoice to add orantium to our defensive stores. But we have no need for that breed of heroism that only hastens destruction.”

“You foresee absolutely no hope for a successful offensive,” Galloran said. “This is the problem?”

“Correct,” Naman replied.

“Do you or any among the Amar Kabal profess the gift of prophecy?”

“Not prophecy. But we have centuries of experience with observation and reason.”

“I have a proposal,” Galloran stated. “There remains a living oracle in Lyrian. The true gift of prescience survives in the Temple of Mianamon. Why not consult the oracle to see if a combined offensive could succeed? Get a definitive word on the matter? If the oracle foresees no possibility of success, I will wholly support your defensive posture. In fact, I will adopt the same philosophy with Trensicourt.”

The amphitheater was silent. All eyes regarded Naman.

“I have no particular objection to consulting the oracle,” Naman finally ventured. “Yet you came here with imperial troops in pursuit, Galloran. You have been informed that the emperor has demanded we release you and your comrades into his custody. A cynical man might call your desire to appeal to the oracle an effort to postpone the apprehension of your friends.”

Galloran’s posture changed, as if getting ready for a fistfight. Even without eyes, his expression hardened. “Would you turn me over to Maldor, Naman? Would you hand him my daughter?”

“We might consider handing over the displacer in your company,” Naman replied accusingly.

The crowd gasped.

“The displacer Ferrin betrayed Felrook to join the rebellion,” Galloran affirmed. “To prove his sincerity he gave me a chunk of his neck, which I could use to dispose of him at my whim. I heartily vouch for the loyalty of all in my party. Otherwise I would not have brought them here.”

“You chose a poor hour to test our hospitality,” Naman said. “You knew what signals your presence would send. You knew that our relations with Felrook have never been more tenuous.”

“Your relations become more tenous as Maldor fears you less. Obviously, he fears my presence here. Why else would he show such interest? Naman, my understanding is that you control the military.”

“I serve as High Commander.”

“Then, as a military expert, please demonstrate a single instance when Maldor has respected weakness.” Galloran paused, but Naman offered no response. “If you can, name one occasion where bowing to his will forestalled invasion or yielded any measurable benefit?”

“When has provoking the emperor led to prosperity?” Naman countered.

“Ask Drake, or any man in Harthenham,” Galloran growled. “I can identify many who have gained respect or reward for defying the emperor. Unless you mean to surrender, it is the only sane course. Those who treat Maldor as an honest and reasonable adversary soon discover that he is neither. If you are so afraid of Felrook that you close your gates to friends and scurry to obey imperial mandates, your cause is already lost. You spoke of Trensicourt as being run by imperial puppets. Who is pulling your strings here in the Vales? Imperial forces defied your treaty by chasing us across forbidden neutral territory, and you react how? With apologies? Those same forces remain camped outside of your passes unchallenged. You lead your military? A cynical man might label you a coward.”

Naman stiffened. “No one degrades my honor!” he thundered. “If you had eyes, I would challenge you this instant!”

Galloran faced him silently. The tension of the moment had Rachel wringing her fingers. Galloran drew his sword, the blade gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight. He did not speak loudly. “If naming your deeds sullies your honor, perhaps I’m not the man to blame. I need no eyes to crush a cockroach. I accept your challenge.”

Naman looked off-balance. “Don’t be ridiculous. Striking down a blind opponent will bring me no satisfaction.”