And from within that shadow, and from within those of Goeth and Malifora, which also seemed to expand, three figures emerged into existence, stepping forth like wraiths draped in darkness. Two men and one woman, all robed and hooded in black. Murmuring incantations, they placed themselves evenly among the Councilors. Fiona dropped to Annon's side and lay her hands upon his smoldering skin and robes, the stench of which had begun to engulf the chamber. "Vas Mani," she whispered, then looked at her hands with horror. "I cannot heal," she cried.

"There will be no more magic in this chamber for some time," Blackthorn declared. "My mages have seen to it." With that, he released Windemere, who stumbled over to the table for support. The Councilor rubbed his neck, maintaining a wary eye on Blackthorn, who snapped his fingers. On cue, a dozen of the Black Company marched into the chamber, one for each councilor, save for Windemere. Three took up position around him while the remaining two flanked the doors to the chamber.

"Councilor Windemere," Blackthorn said. "Thou art under arrest for treason and murder." The largest of the guards around Windemere grabbed the Councilor's wrists and shackled them behind the Councilor's back. "'Tis with great regret that I sentence thee to execution for thy crimes. Thrud, lock him in the castle's prison and await my orders."

Windemere sneered. "Thou canst not do this, Blackthorn. Thou hast nothing but accusations to hold against me."

"No?" asked Blackthorn. "Others might disagree." He gestured to the door where another figure had appeared.

"Saduj?" Windemere said, incredulously, as Thrud and the others pushed him forward.

"Councilor," Saduj grinned, maliciously. "It has been an honor working with thee." He followed the Councilor and his escort from the room.

Blackthorn immediately turned to his other men. "Quickly, have Annon taken to the healers. Malifora, Fiona, attend to him, and express my apologies when he awakens. I hope that he can understand what I had to do."

"I am not certain that I do," Fiona whispered, sadly. Malifora said nothing; the circles beneath her eyes spoke enough. They left, along with a confused Goeth and Sindar, escorted by Blackthorn's men and mages.

When the chamber emptied, Felespar spoke, if hesitantly. "The Great Council will not support this, Blackthorn. Even Lord British could not imprison, let alone execute, a man without trial. And if thy only witness to Windemere's actions is one of thine own men . . ." His words trailed off, though his lips turned in a half-smile.

So intense was the fury ignited by the mage's remark that somehow it burned away the last of Blackthorn's rage. He stooped over the great table, supporting himself with one hand. The other he used to cover his eyes. "I lost my best people in that attack. Captain Varibed, Moragwain, and Ghaland were among the most honorable warriors that I have ever known. Perhaps not so for Kayden or—" He gritted when he said the next name. "Or Captain Suturb. But I mourn their passing, nonetheless." He lowered his hand, and glowered. "Windemere will pay for his treachery."

"Of that, I have no doubt," Felespar smirked. He offered his arm to Hassad.

The hand that Hassad laid upon Blackthorn's shoulder might have offered comfort, but the mage's solemn parting did not. "Thou didst have one of thine own spy upon one of us. And I see that, somehow, thou hast become adept as a mage and allied thyself with the dark side of our order." He sighed and removed his hand, his frown forlorn. "I can only wonder, then, my friend, what other secrets thou dost hide from us."

"I can only wonder, too," Blackthorn said softly to himself. Despite the winds, the frigate had docked successfully in New Magincia's wharf where a few other ships rested, all bearing the shepherd's crook. Sailors jumped to the planks below while their captain barked commands to secure the ship. The stench of the sea, of dead fish and rotten seaweed, was strong here. He felt as if he stood in an underwater tomb.