My Hayeel,

  I today received your first letter, and we — father, mother, grandma (Empress-mother), and my sister Naneela, listened to the passionate warning from Teng. Grandma demonstrated to Teng that she still speaks the language of Tesk, that she learned from her grand-mother-in-law. I did not try what little I know, but I understood enough from Teng to know that the interpreter was doing his job well. I long for you to be close enough to be able to teach me more. Will you be happy, my Hayeel, about what I have done? I hope so. I showed part of your letter to mother, where you described your hopes that we would listen to Teng. She read a little more — about the harbour defences of Caneth — and described you as an excellent ambassador, and said that most ambassadors need to be told time and time again that they must say clearly what conclusions they draw and why.

  You should know that for some time my mother and sister have been saying things like 'Should you write about that to your duchess?', and I would say no, because I knew what I hoped, but still feared that I was wrong. I thought that there was a real risk that the letter I had received from ... what do I call him? I do not wish to honour him with even the phrase 'husband-in-name' you use, so to my family I call him the corpse. Does that offend? I hope you will accept my apologies if it does. I did not know whether the corpse had lied, if his report of your faith was false, or if you would prove eventually to be immune to the catalyst. Your first letter reassured me that your faith was genuine, and horrified me that I had simply accepted the process that assigned you to the corpse. I probably assumed they had at least confirmed you not minding any service. Your letter also made me rejoice that you are by no means immune to the gift. So, my duchess, my ambassador, my Hayeel, I hope you do not object that I have asked my father if we can speak of marriage when we meet, or that he agreed. I do not assume that we will get on well at our first meeting, and nor do I assume that we will marry before we have spent a reasonable amount of time getting to know each other. My sister comments, rudely peering over my shoulder, that means you have at least half a day before I hope to find a pastor. But that is not knowing each other. Perhaps if these letters only took a few days we could get to know each other writing. Now that I know there is no barrier to a marriage, perhaps I should write a letter to you with every ship? But is there really any point? Father has agreed to one other thing, you see, my ambassador. He has decided that Teng will continue his discussions with the imperial research centre, and they will attempt to make a device that could send a signal to Tesk, and attempt communication. And then, perhaps in a week or two, I'm not sure, Teng will return to Caneth. I know that we will eventually need Tew to listen to him, as well, but if we can communicate between the Empire and Caneth, and Caneth and the Isles, then Tew ought to be much easier to talk to. We don't want him to go into a war zone. There is a chance that I may travel with him, but I don't know. I cannot be in love with you, when we've never met, can I? So what do I feel? Boundless optimism? Hope? Salay

  My kind prince, I write more in this letter that I hope to give you in person. Last night at the palace, about when I was writing to you I am told a joyous thing happened. Faced with the challenges that today would bring, Esmetherelda was praying about the troubles that faced Tesk, and of course the drive to complete the challenge before the sun and the cloud destroy us. And she felt the urge to sing praises to God with others. She found some of the ladies from the Tesk Council were also thinking similar thoughts, as were some of the politicians who had repented of their involvement in outbreak of dum-semb. So, they started singing. And then the believing soldiers on watch duty around the wall joined in as well. And then her majesty, listening to the multipart harmony that the Tesk singers were singing, and still reeling from the shock that the doom-guard had been behind the revolution, went and stood beside her daughter and joined in the songs of her childhood, and then she too put her trust in God, and having done that, she went to the prison. It turns out that the priestess of dum-semb had been a neighbour of hers who she had been a regular baby-sitter for, and she pleaded with her old charge to repent of her blasphemous religion. And joy unspeakable, she did, as did two of the politicians. I will write more later.

  Your ambassador, Hayeel.

  “My prince,” Salay's secretary said, “As you know, this is the time of year when many ships from Caneth are coming to collect spices and this year's low-quality carpets before the wintertime. Your ambassador sends this letter, and a large package.”

  “How large a package?” Salay asked, eagerly accepting the letter.

  “It could be a picture, highness. Perhaps a table-book? But it is wrapped well. I came ahead with the letter, my prince. Do you want the package here?”

  “Ah! It is a book,” Salay said, reading the first few lines of the letter. “Have it brought to mother's room.”

  “Hello Salay, you are grinning and holding a letter. More news?”

  “You asked about fashions, mother? See what my ambassador sends you. Hand-crafted work of a princess, except for the binding.”

  “A book?”

  “Princess Bethania of Caneth apparently enjoys art, engraving and printing. The title is 'Court fashions of Caneth and its neighbours, (150-160 A.V.)' My enterprising ambassador has set a price she deemed reasonable, forced it into the unwilling hands of the artist who apparently has little business sense, and Hayeel's brother-in-law expected he could make a nice profit if he sold them to nobles in Wahleet, so if you happen to show it to anyone and they ask, yes, more copies are available, as are some other volumes.”

  “Prices on application to Salay and Hayeel enterprises?”

  “Quite possibly. Go on, mother, open it, princess Bethania dedicated it to you.”

  “Why?”

  “My favourite ambassador decided to make it a gift for you from me.”

  “Why not from her?”

  “I think she thinks everything she has, every penny she earns or spends is mine.”

  “After her husband-in-name bought the drugs she's been selling with her salary?”

  “I don't think she knew that.”

  “And you've not told her about her income from her domain either?”

  “It's a bit hard to send, mother.”

  “Nonsense, send her some proper carpets or some spices. By the sound of it she's got a good business head.”

  “I don't know I'd trust the merchants not to swap them, mother. Not unless I'm going with them myself or send a guard, in which case I might as well send a box of gold or jewellery.”

  “Have you noticed that jewellery is never traded by the merchants?” the empress asked, “Either that means styles are radically different or there's no profit in it.”

  “Not like low quality carpets?”

  “Exactly.”

  “You still haven't opened your book, mother. Even if you don't want to see fashions in Caneth, I want to see what got Hayeel so excited about the import-export business in rare books.”

  “She is the daughter of a trader... oh wow. These are amazing! I thought you said they were printed.”

  “Sketched, engraved, printed and hand over-painted all by the princess.”

  “Who has real talent, too. So, two hundred of their gold coins fit in a money pouch, she had four hundred, and each worth a month's wages for a labourer. Page after page when each one is a work of art. Would Hayeel spend a year's wages on such as this? I expect so. I'm sure she would if she believes the money belongs to her prince and it is a gift for his mother. I expect a noblewoman in Wahleet would spend one of their husband's gold coins per page, just so she can boast about who made it.”

  “Four year's income for a labourer?”

  “Remember, a menial labourer does not earn much, Salay.” his mother reminded him, “Don't think of your secretary's pay.”

  “Ah. Yes.”

  “So, your Hayeel didn't spend forty-eight on it.”

  “Can I come in?” Naneela asked.

  “Yes,” her mother replied. “I'm playing guess how much Hayeel spent on this when she thought it was your brother's money and a gift for me. All apart from the cover, it's the single-handed work of princess Bethania of Caneth.”

  “They wear this sort of thing?”

  “Court fashions in the last ten years.”

  “Nice. Very nice court fashions they have there. Practical and modest apart from their hair, but I guess that's a cultural thing. Are you going to show it to the noblewomen, mother?”

  “Of course I am. More copies available if we order them via duchess Hayeel, but they're all hand-painted by the princess herself, so there's a limited supply.”

  “And two more volumes by the same artist: Caneth wildlife and Caneth plantlife. Any idea how big a coin is that you can get two hundred of in a standard moneybag?”

  “What sort of measure is that?” Naneela asked.

  “Apparently you can get about two hundred of their two hundred crown coins in a moneybag.”

  “Oh! I've got one in my foreign coin collection. It weighs almost exactly the same as much as the old tin twenty. I remember being fascinated by the way they could weigh the same but be different sizes.”

  “Not to mention be worth vastly different amounts,” her mother added.

  “It was a lot prettier, I remember.”

  “So, mummy thinks she can sell them at forty-eight of those coins. What do you think?”

  “Every one of these pages could be sold, for at least a hundred each. Gold hundreds weigh a bit less, of course. So, yes, I agree with mummy. I think the price for the whole book ought to be about six thousand imperials.”

  “I'd better write to Hayeel to send some more then. How many would you like?”

  “What's Hayeel selling them for?”

  “She hasn't said, all I know is how much she forced into Princess Bethania's unwilling hands. But if you go asking for six thousand she'll probably insist that Bethania gets a bigger share.”

  “Bear in mind, daughter, that Hayeel only had four hundred of those coins and she's planning to live on them for several years.”

  “Fine. One princess's work for another. I'll offer you a pair of radios for a complete set, and you can then pay Hayeel whatever she needs. You may grovel at my feet in thanks, brother.”

  “When you say a pair of radios, what do you mean?” her mother asked.

  “I mean that I've solved it. What's the point of sending on-off signals when you can talk?”

  “Talk?” Salay asked.

  “I told you about that new electron valve they eventually made for me, the one that has the extra grid?”

  “Yes. You wanted to experiment, and bullied them.”

  “I had an idea that would simplify communication enormously, and it works. You can mix two signals. Sound and radio. The listener at the other end doesn't just watch a needle go up and down, or hear clicks, you can hear speech. And it just so happens that my team were wondering what the funny clicking sound they were getting was when Teng and I got there.”

  “So you can talk to Tesk?”

  “Not now. Tesk wouldn't hear us. Teng's listener is really crude. I guess that means easy to make, but still, his listener can barely hear their signal, and it's deafening to ours. I don't know what they're using to send, but it's got to have an enormous power use. I guess they've put all their work into senders, and we've put a lot more work in the listeners. We can talk person to person. With my electron valve they could only talk government to people. Or to space, of course, except they're a long way from the right frequency.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “So, the timing issue is solved?”

  “Not quite, but if there were some way to get a chunk of my team to Tesk along with lots of fragile stuff...”

  “You mean like on the ship Teng got here on?”

  “I asked about that. He wants to use another ship, he said the ship was becalmed for a couple of days and then to catch up the captain seemed to take all sorts of risks that had his sailors looking worried.”

  “What's the hurry? He's plenty of time to get back before winter.”

  “The captain winters here. He wants to do one more round-trip to Caneth.”

  “So, I might trust him with a letter, but nothing more valuable.”

  “I think you ought to send her some gold so she can buy some more of those books.”

  “I'll ask her to reserve them. But I plan to take her the gold, mother. As soon as I can get ready and find a reliable captain.”

  “Good morning and welcome, politicians, parents and thought-hearers,” Esme said,

  “Apart from prince Hal and King Val, I think that's everyone here, and Hal and Val know they're welcome.”

  “I do, yes,” Hal agreed, stealing a kiss.

  “Let me make it clear, parents and politicians, there are now thirty-six women— I much prefer the term ladies — with the gift of Tesk. Duchess Hayeel tells me that twenty nine of them were born there, and one was a scary early surprise on a Teskan ship to Teskan parents. All of us are willing to prove that we have the gift of Tesk. All of us are agreed that the high council of Tesk should meet today, for three specific purposes that I'll get to later. But there's no point us demonstrating that we have the gift to each other. Nor is there any point in us declaring a meeting without a demonstration that everyone speaking as a council member actually has the gift. If there is doubt, there will be disbelief, and we are not at a time when disbelief is a good thing. I don't want to delay my wedding to the day after tomorrow, but there are other discussions that need to happen today and tomorrow as well. So, let me stop talking, and throw it open to you. Do you have any questions that need to be addressed before we talk about verification? There must be verification, and it must be acceptable to all, because we don't want anyone to say 'so and so never proved she should be there'. But please, time is limited so let's not have a long complex process that takes all morning, I beg you. We could just form two circles, and as the testers pass we thought hearers could say the word or phrase you're thinking of until we're back where we started. Would that convince you? If not, how would you like us to do it?”

  “Can we hear why you feel there's such a rush?” one of the politicians asked.

  “I would prefer to deal with issues one by one so that we don't get distracted, so I'm going to be deliberately vague.

  "The first thing we wish to be doing is a formal, preliminary hearing of the prisoners. Yesterday, there was a clear call that that be before the formally acknowledged high council. Secondly, there might be another duty for the high council, which might be surprising for some here. Thirdly, Hal and I will be sharing with you some changes in international politics which may or may not affect Tesk, and the noble ambassador, Duchess Hayeel of Repink, will be sharing a perspective from the Dahel Empire on those changes. Fourthly, she will be reflecting on a serious proposal we heard from an academician from Tesk. Then, I expect we'd ideally have about a week to process those things, but in the circumstances, after tomorrow afternoon you'll have to do without Hal and me, and you might want to rush back to Tesk and discuss everything that's happened with your fellow politicians anyway.” There was a murmur of agreement.

  “Do you insist on all of us having our thoughts heard?” someone asked.

  “Not at all. But I do insist that if anyone doubts we all have the gift, you either volunteer or allow yourself to be convinced by your colleagues.”

  Rena said “Once we're all accepted as thought-hearers and have brought an extraordinary meeting of the high council of Tesk into into session, I'll be asking you all to swear that that you are convinced and sign a document that you've so sworn. I'm sure you don't need reminding of the penalty for perjury before the high council. We don't want you having any lurking doubts.”

  One of the politicians, a minor minister in the ruling party stood and said, “And what if we prefer some doubts to having our thoughts heard? And if we suspect that there are here people who have inherited the ability that was mainly among the nobles, and can make known the thoughts of those being tested known to someone who is sensitive but does not have the gift?”

  “Your thoughts are already heard, minister,” Esme said. “Quite frankly I'm glad you're ashamed of what you are loudly thinking you don't want us to hear you thinking of, but also it's simply irrelevant to the question of ensuring the unquestionable legal legitimacy of the high council. If that is the only reason you don't want to confirm the legitimacy of the council, however, I expect the we'll all be willing to swear an oath of secrecy about past acts as long as you are truly repentant about them and firmly desire that they never be repeated.

  "As to there being one or more here the ability you speak of, you presumably know that such communication demands speech. If you prefer, the confirmation can be written. Does that satisfy your qualms?”

  “It does, highness.” the minister replied.

  “Good. Anyone got an objection to not repeating what he's still regretting?”

  “Not as long as our silence doesn't interfere with any court proceedings,” Rena said.

  “Can high council members be asked to testify in court?” someone asked.

  “Asked yes, compelled no,” Esme replied. “I hear no objections to the oath. I suggest the words 'I swear I will not repeat stray thoughts I hear in this meeting except in the context of a direct question in a court of law.' Happy, minister?”

  “Yes, highness.”

  Once everyone had sworn, they got on with the confirmation of everyone's abilities, and then the council meeting was called, members swore to be just and uphold the constitution of Tesk, and the meeting declared itself quorate, with all qualified members present. More oaths were taken as Rena had asked, her document was written and signed, and then the prisoners were brought in to give testimony before the council. Yalisa's mother, former priestess of dum-semb, now trying to unburden her soul for the evil she'd been part of, spoke freely and openly, and with tears. There had been human sacrifices — it was part of the ritual when an acolyte progressed to novice or to priest or priestess, although one sacrifice could be shared between several participants as long as they all played a part. She said the religion did not demand the sacrifice be offered to any particular deity, only that the participants must freely spend human life because the human concerned was not any kind of follower, and just livestock. The mobs that had roamed the streets in search of nobles during the revolution and after had been seen as a triumphal return to power, and had provided the blood for many advancement ceremonies.

  The breadth and depth of the dum-semb hold on political, judicial and military power that the ex-priestess outlined left everyone shocked, and there was a general feeling of numbness by the time the last politician had confirmed what she'd said, and was led back to his cell. But there were more questions that had not been asked, let alone answered.

  “It is not the role of the high council to judge,” Esme said. “But the treaty of all nations, also known as the treaty for the eradication of human sacrifice, requires that all who are involved in the religion on dum-semb should face trial. There are three roads open to us: as this has been discovered here in Caneth, the trial can occur here, under the laws of Caneth. Caneth could also send the prisoners to Tesk, if it were convinced that justice would be done, and that there would be no interference from other supporters.”

  “A very optimistic move, likely to trigger the war clause in the treaty,” Hayeel said.

  “Exactly. A person accused of or admitting to involvement must face uncorrupted justice, else the receiving state is deemed in defiance of the treaty and will face war from all other parties. We don't want that to happen, so I don't suggest that route. The third option is that the prisoners be tried here under Teskan law. Under the Teskan constitution, a normal judge cannot adjudicate a trial of a dum-semb member, only a duly recognised noble of Tesk can and by preference it should be the noble from the county or barony concerned.”

  The minister stood up, “You are saying that the constitution must be changed or Tesk will face war.”

  “I am saying that the combination of the constitution, the apparent lack of nobles, and this shocking resurgence of what was thought, a hundred years ago, to be an extinct religion presents Tesk with serious problems. Another problem is that if there is any member of the Teskan nobility alive, the threat of a mob beating them to death is only too real, so I do not think it is sensible to suggest they make themselves known until there is some mechanism in place capable of defending them. Given what we've heard, the army of Tesk shouldn't be involved.”

  “This is your surprising duty for the high council?” The minister asked, “To dismiss the upper echelons of the army, and enrol us all in some kind of civil defence corps to defend the nobles?”

  “It's one solution which is possibly within the remit of the high council, though there are bound to be protests as there is no precedent,” Rena said. “Another power, and one that has been used in the past, is to assign people of good character as acting nobles, until the true heir can be determined. That might not protect people of course. But Yanesa wants to speak to that.”

  Yanesa stood and said, “My mother has admitted her guilt, and in doing so has accused a far bigger section of Tesk's leaders than I expected. But yesterday, before I knew this, when I thought it was just a few, I asked crown-Princess Esmetherelda that she be tried under Tesk law. It is bad enough that our nation has been humiliated on a global stage with people like my mother following a banned cult. Let Tesk not suffer the humiliation of being unable to prosecute them. I loved my father, but my father is dead. I love my mother, but my mother has committed crimes which carry the death penalty. I love independent Tesk, but a lot of independent Tesk is a lie.

  "No matter what the propaganda and lies say, the king of the Isles has been robbing his own coffers and taxing his own people to feed us. The army that is supposed to defend our freedom has been providing victims to the doom-guard. Either let independent Tesk die also, accepting that this evil is too much, and hand our future over to those who have cared for us and fed us all these years, or let us rid ourselves of the propaganda and lies, and confront the demons that we have allowed to rule us, and execute them ourselves.” She paused, and said “Yesterday, some of us here shared that they are the heirs and heiresses to noble titles. I'm not, but as long as you don't make me try my own mother, then I'm willing to swear an oath to act as a noble, ending injustices and ending the doom-guard.

  “I say, yes, arrest the entire officer corps of the army. Maybe the people I'm trying to save from war, starvation and human sacrifice will turn on me and beat me to death, but I don't want to sit by and watch Tesk starve to feed the doom-guard any more. And if we don't arrest the officers in the army, and the upper ranks of the civil service and political parties, then we face a war we can't win anyway.”

  “I didn't stand up with Sashan at school,” Mari said, “and I regretted it. I'll stand with Yanesa, and say I'm willing to act as a noble if you want me, and I'm also prepared to see the fabric of lies and hopes and dreams that make up independent Tesk evaporate if that's the only realistic way to free us from the doom-guard. BUT. There's an enormous but. We cannot decide these things here, in isolation. We need to make these decisions from the high council chamber on Tesk. We need to return, be acknowledged, be accepted, and then accept the prisoners for trial, a day or two later, maybe longer. And then hear again what they say, with people who are not here.

  "We need the people on our side if we are not to be cut down as traitors. Unless we want to go with a full scale invasion force, and watch hundreds, thousands of innocent lives be lost in the front lines as the doom-guard urge the sheep to the slaughter, we need to be there, and we need to have the ordinary soldiers on our side. Esmetherelda, I thank you for your gracious invitation, prince Hal, I thank you too for this terrible responsibility you've laid on me and on us. I'd love to be at your wedding, but my broken country needs me at home.”

  “I am Kelara, daughter of Elakart of Karet. She told me that she will happily claim her title when the high council is formed. She is not well, but her mind is still sound. I would be happy for us to meet her sooner rather than later.”

  “Hey, look at that, I'm not first!” Rena said, with a relaxed smile. “I will be Renela of Resk if the high council allows me to take my oath. I agree with Mari. Sorry, Esme, it's time for us to go home.”

  “You were first, Rena.” Ada's father said, “First with their own title to claim, but as the ladies on the high council know I want to beg this council to allow me to claim my own name and title, which my parents told me was Ralek of Renet. Yanesa, I believe you and your mother live within my domain. Please pray for wisdom for me as I consider her case. My apologies to the chefs of your wedding feast, princess Regent, I agree, we should go back to Tesk.”

  “So does the entire high council, Ralek. But before you go, the Caneth printers have been busy. There will be a copy of the Teskania for each here, along with the account of the first revolution by baroness Arelan of Resk that I read from. I did not read from it the summary that she included of the religion of the doom-guard, but you will find it useful, I'm sure. She was a woman of foresight, and insisted that the printing plates for her booklet be preserved and kept in the library here. The printers only needed to clean them, ink them, and get their old press working again. The paper might be new, but the spelling and artwork and everything is original. Also, It's printed as a single, double-sided sheet, so printing is fast, but they need cutting.

  "Think of it as a campaign booklet if you like.”

  “How many copies can you let us have?” Ralek asked.

  “They were aiming to have two hundred copies each by about now, and then they were going to start cutting. Is that enough?”

  “Two hundred for council members too?” Rena asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That ought to do quite well, don't you think?”

  “To start with,” one of the politicians said, “I normally get five hundred campaign leaflets printed. Could we beg for loads of copies of the confirmation of the high council to be printed too?”

  “I was thinking of that,” Esme agreed, “It depends how long you're willing to wait.”

  “I'd much rather have a couple of hundred copies of that than have countess Arelan's book cut,” Renet said.

  “The tide is good to leave mid-afternoon.” King Val said.

  “Will the oaths of nobles and acting-nobles be taken here, or all on Tesk?” princess Velania asked.

  “I suggest here for some at least,” Hayeel said, “So that there can be an official request from someone entitled to judge.”

  “If the high council will allow, I will come to Tesk after the wedding,”

  Velania said. “I am willing to escort the prisoners, and also have the duty of judge, both as countess of Vansk and because my great-Grandmother Sesela passed the title of baroness of Sesith to me.”

  “Are there any here who will speak in favour of the doom-guard's ban on visits from the monarch of the Isles or his family?” Renela asked.

  “As minister for tourism and fashion, not a very important ministry, I know,” the minister said, “I was warned that I'd be out of my job if I let some foreigner interfere and say it was stupid of Tesk to keep the catalyst away, because the whole legitimacy of the status quo is based on the historic enmity to the Isles. There, you're all witnesses that I didn't let any foreigner say it. Maybe they didn't want me to say the last bit, but that's what my notes say.”

  “Thank you minister,” Renela said “You don't perhaps think that they meant it some other way than you saying it first, do you?”

  “Sorry, lady baroness, I'm not a mind-reader.”

  “But you can send,” Ralek said. “Do you know where you got that ability?”

  “I know that my parents and grandparents moved home every few years, and were weavers. I understand that the style of loom they had says they were from Balask, but none of their names contained a 'b'.”

  “A 'w', or 'v' perhaps?” Velania asked, “Vansk is sometimes written as Wansk or Bansk in the old records.”

  “My grandfather whispered to me once that his name was Valak, and he wanted me to keep it safe.” The minister said. “I didn't understand.”

  “My neighbour, Count Valak of Balask,” Ralek said, “what is your personal opinion of the status quo?”

  “I'd like to take an oath before I get so terrified about what I'm doing that I can't. But speaking as minister for tourism and fashions, I welcome any visitors who will boost our economy and our place on tourist itineraries.”