"As thou dost know, the leaders of the Black Company are not the only ones to convene in Jhelom," said Blackthorn. "Though Lord Malone and Sir Simon could not attend this council, they have sent their most respected advisors with word of what they wish to be done. So long as there is no evidence that Lord British is truly lost, they are willing to abide by my decree that the King will return."

"And should such evidence surface?" Saduj said, hesitantly.

"Then a new monarchy will be established under my guidance," Blackthorn answered.

"I see," Saduj whispered. He ran a nervous hand through his dark, oily hair.

"What are we to do in the meantime, my Lord?" asked Moragwain. Her black leather and midnight hair swallowed the sun, but her blue eyes gleamed with renewed hope.

Whitelock leaned forward in his chair, "Maintain order, as we have always done. "Despite the compliance of our friends, Lord Malone and Sir Simon, there will be others who will rise up against us, Windemere's followers most of all. We must deal with them. Fairly, of course," he added as an afterthought.

"And how will that be done?" asked Veribed. He clearly did not like the implication of Whitelock's tone. His violet eyes were slit with suspicion.

"Should Windemere's followers or others speak up against us, they can be contained," Whitelock said. "Kayden and Guinere know of ways."

Kayden's smile was so broad it furrowed the skin upon his hairless head. "All men break the law to some degree or another. Windemere's followers are no exception. I know many who have withheld money from taxes, or who have indulged in forbidden liquors and leaf." He fingered the ivory ankh hung about his neck. "Small crimes, to be certain, but enough to lock one away for some time. It is simply a matter of deciding how lenient we wish to be."

"Others may not have broken the law, but simply have something to hide," Captain Guinere grinned. "I, for one, have intimate contact with at least one of Windemere's supporters." She winked mischievously from beneath a lock of her orange hair. "One of his ladies, too."

"Not a knight is this town or in Trinsic fails to indulge in too much drink," said Ghaland. "They can be imprisoned for unruliness from time to time." But he did not say it with conviction.

Veribed nearly crushed the cup of ale he held in his hand. "I will have no part of this! The Black Company stands for Virtue, not for the malicious acts of which thou dost now speak!"

"I agree with Veribed," said Blackthorn. Whitelock's single eye gleamed with malice. Guinere, Kayden, and Dryden appeared stunned, while Moragwain, Veribed, and Ghaland breathed with relief. Both Saduj and Suturb were preoccupied, the thief with some thought clearly disturbing him, Suturb with the ships Blackthorn had seen earlier. "We must act with Virtue," Blackthorn said, firmly.

"My Lord," Judge Dryden finally protested, "we spoke of this earlier. The Virtues are what brought us here in the first place, for they can be twisted to mean anything. The duels in Jhelom are declared in the names of Honor and Valor. The Great Council pleaded Sacrifice to account for Captain Geoffrey's insubordination. Local officials redefine Honesty and Justice to suit their lies, and remain humble only until people pledge their support. And how many men cite spiritual fulfillment to pursue selfish goals?" He paused, then added very slowly, cautiously. "Surely, thou dost remember from thy childhood the consequences of claiming Compassion to spare a murderer's life?"

Whitelock's hood had shifted slightly, revealing his injuries. He drew the fabric over his disfigurement, and whispered, "Like all things, virtues are meaningless without definition."