Guardians of Ga'Hoole 14 - Exile

Kuneer. There had been rumors of some owls holing up there, but he had no time to think about that now. Hewanted to reflect on this fresh bit of news. He could not have hoped for better. He must think very carefully on how to make the best use of it. It could be the initial move in dislodging the Band from the great tree and might lead to their ultimate downfall. Careful, careful , he admonished himself. He then turned his head and peered with his pale yellow eyes that appeared to Tarn like watered egg yolks. “Thank you. You have served well, efficiently. Your skills are valued.” Now that , he thought, is how to discreetly flatter an owl . The little speech was a model of sincerity and yet not excessive. But it would gain this owl’s trust faster than any overly sweet words. Oh, he would sweeten it up as time went on. But there was a course to these things, a pace as well. “Now, please leave me. I must think on this disturbing news.”
    I will break this news to the great tree , he thought. But when the time is right. After Punkie Night! Yes, of course Punkie Night. They are all so sure it will be cancelled. They will be thrilled when Coryn says it won’t be …But then he had another thought. The Band might be back by Punkie Night. Although it was mainly a favorite among young owls, older owls donned masks as well, and it was said that Twilight loved this night more than any other. That presented a problem. But then again the masks would provide the perfect cover for the Blue Brigade. They could be atthe tree, masked, in substantial numbers without arousing suspicion.
    Finally, a complete plan came to him. The word must go out here on the mainland of the Band’s heinous treachery—consorting with scrooms, conjuring up the dead, dabbling in hagscraft! The news must be spread that they were no longer welcome at the tree. No—better yet: A rumor that they have gone to serve in the Northern Kingdoms, deserted the tree! Broken their Guardian oath! They can be effectively exiled, as conjurers and traitors! He could make it work, he knew it. It was less than a week to Punkie Night. When he had left the tree, some owls were already busy with the preparations. He would send back a message to Coryn that it was indeed time for a celebration. Punkie Night must go on. Madame Plonk must sing. If they were busy preparing for this stupid holiday, they would be nicely distracted. But in the meantime, he would make sure that here on the mainland the word went out. There were two ways to spread that information. He would use both. The first way was grog trees, and the second was scribes. He would send the Blue Brigade to the grog trees—without their telltale blue feathers—to talk and begin the rumors of the Band’s perfidy. The second method was scribes. The number of owls who could be hired to write for thosewho were still illiterate, or post public notices throughout the kingdoms had increased dramatically on the mainland in recent years. He would use them. But first, he must get word back to the tree about Punkie Night.
    Just before dawn, the messenger arrived and was ushered into Coryn’s hollow. The young king was still wondering if he had so gravely offended the Striga that he would not return. Coryn had been in turmoil since the Striga’s departure. Here, the very owl to whom they owed their existence because of his valorous, selfless acts had been driven from the tree perhaps forever because of Coryn’s own stubbornness.
    He dismissed the messenger so he could read the message in complete privacy.
    Dear Coryn ,
    I have been thinking a lot about our last discussion and I understand your fears concerning the ember. But Coryn, you underestimate your own strengths. You are more than able to withstand the ember’s so-called bad influences. Everywhere I go on the mainland, I see evidence of your own powers as king. The spread of culture, practical culture, the kind that I approve of, that will add to the betterment of our world, is amazing. You are an owl of unparalleled courage and intelligence, with a natural instinct for leadership. I have heard of your ancient King Hoole, but I believe you shall far exceed him. I now think that in many ways I have been too harsh. It was an act of great sacrifice on your part to give up the Harvest Festival. Therefore, with that in mind and upon great reflection, I believe that Punkie Night should go forward. It is a harmless celebration, mostly enjoyed by the young. So,