Windhaven

"He had people ready to second his proposal and speak in its behalf, but it did no good. Kolmi never recognized us. We were never given a chance to speak. The Council went on most of a day, and I'd say barely a dozen one-wings ever got to speak. Kolmi just wouldn't let us be heard.

"After Val, he recognized a woman from Lomarron, who talked about how Val's father had been hanged as a murderer, and how Val himself had driven Ari to suicide by taking her wings. 'No wonder he wants us to defend this criminal,' she said. Others like her followed; there was much talk of crime, of one-wings who only half understood what it meant to be a flyer, and Val's proposal got lost in the chaos.

"Then some older flyers put forth a proposal to close the academies. That wasn't popular. Corm spoke in favor of it, but his own daughter rose against him. It was quite a sight. The Artellians were for it too, and some of the retired flyers, and they managed to force a vote, but less than a fifth of the Council voted with them. The academies are safe."

"We can be thankful for that much," Maris said.

S'Rella nodded. "Then Dorrel spoke. You know how highly he's regarded. He gave a fine speech — much too fine. He spoke first of Tya's idealistic motivations, and how much sympathy he had for what she had tried to do. But then he said we couldn't let sympathy or other emotions decide our course. Tya's crime struck right at the soul of flyer society, Dorrel said. If the Landsman could not count on flyers to bear their messages truthfully and dispassionately, to act as their voices in distant lands, then what was the use of us? And if they had no use for us, how long until they took our wings by force and replaced us with their own men? We could not fight the landsguard, he said. We had to regain the trust that had been lost, and the only way to do that was to name Tya outlaw, despite her good intentions. To leave her to her fate, no matter how much we sympathized with her. If we defended Tya in any way, Dorrel said, the land-bound would misunderstand, would think we approved of her crime. We had to make our censure clear."

Maris nodded. "Much of that is true," she said, "no matter how grim the consequences. I can see how it might be persuasive."

"Others of like mind followed Dorrel. Tera-kul of Yethien, old Arris of Artellia, a woman from the Outer Islands, Jon of Culhall, Talbot of Big Shotan — leaders, each of them, and highly respected. All of them supported Dorrel. Val seethed, and Katinn and Athen were screaming for the floor, but Kolmi looked right past them. The talk went on for hours, and finally — in less than a minute — Val's proposal was brought up and voted down, and the Council went on to name Tya outlaw and give her up to the tender mercies of Thayos. We did not tell the Landsman to hang her. At the suggestion of Jirel of Skulny, we went so far as to ask him not to. But it was only a request."

"Our Landsman seldom heeds requests," Evan said quietly.

"That was the end of it for me," S'Rella continued. "That was when the one-wings left."

"Left?!"

S'Rella nodded. "When the vote was done, Val rose from his place, and his look — I'm glad he had no weapon, or he might have killed someone. Instead he spoke; he called them all fools, and cowards, and worse. There were shouts, curses back at him, some scuffles. Val called on all his friends to leave.

Damen and I had to push through to the door, the flyers — some of them I recognized, people I've known for years, but they were jeering, saying things to us — it was horrible, Maris. The anger there…"

"You got out, though."

"Yes. And we flew to North Arren, almost all of the one-wings. Val led us to a large field, an old battlefield, and he stood on top of a ruined fortification and spoke to us. We had our own Council. A fourth of all the flyers of Windhaven were there. We voted to impose a sanction on Thayos, even if the others would not. That was why Katinn flew here with me; we were to tell the Landsman together. He had already been sent word of the other decision, but Katinn and I were going to confront him with the one-wings' threat." She laughed bitterly. "He listened to us coldly, and when we were finished, he said that we and all of our kind were unfit to be flyers, and that nothing would please him more than never to have a one-wing fly to Thayos again. He promised to show us exactly what he thought of us, and Val, and all one-wings.

"And he showed us. At sunset his landsguard came, and we were marched into the courtyard with the rest, and he showed us." Her face was gray; the recounting of the tale had opened her wounds again.

"Oh, S'Rella," Maris said sorrowfully. She reached out and took her friend's hand, but when they touched S'Rella gave a sudden startled shudder and then, again, began to weep.

Sleep did not come easily for Maris. She twisted and turned restlessly. Her dreams were dark and shapeless, nightmares of flights that ended at the end of a rope.