The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

find,” Quinnault replied. He patted Katie’s hand. “I’ll follow by a different route with the others. We’ll be safer attracting less attention with smaller parties.”
    “No, Quinnault,” Katie said quietly but with determination. “We both need to stay. Someone is amplifying the crowd’s emotions with magic to further their own political agenda. Listen to the argument. Listen hard. We need to stop this here and now!”
    “Filthy foreigner!” Orange-shirt yelled. “How dare you think of marrying off your daughter to my son. I’ll not taint our bloodline with Rovers.”
    Strange, Orange-shirt dressed more like a Rover than the man he accused.
    “Rovers steal our children as well as our hard-earned dragini.” That voice came from a different quarter altogether. The angry emotions swelled, as if being manipulated by a master hand.
    The assassin who had used her own emotions against Katie had been a Rover.
    Confusion muddled her thoughts. Who was behind this?
    “Rovers will rape and control your mind with their magic worse than any Commune Magician.” That voice came from an ordinary woman with muddy blond hair, no Rover coloring in her face or clothing.
    “Bad enough we have to put up with a foreign queen and her prancing lumbird father. We don’t need Rovers and them desert mercenaries freeloading off our bounty. We don’t need a foreign queen controlling our king,” Orange-shirt called to the crowd in general.
    Katie bristled. Beside her, Quinnault clenched his jaw. A muscle jumped in his cheek, and the pulse in his neck beat too rapidly.
    The few remaining courtiers in their party gasped at the audacity of the crowd voicing these sentiments in front of the royal couple. Most of the dignitaries had dispersed at the first sign of trouble.
    “We need a new king,” Orange-shirt yelled above the noise of the crowd. “We need a king who doesn’t bow to foreign interests.”
    “Kill all foreigners!”

Chapter 3
     
    Late afternoon, Saawheen, on the Long Bridge to the mainland, Coronnan City
     
    ‘ S peak to them, Quinnault. End this before the violence spreads!’ Katie tugged at her husband’s arm. The moisture on her brow and back turned icy with fear.
    The guards surrounded them, swords drawn. Tension made their arms twitch.
    If any one of them drew so much as a drop of blood, all hope of exerting calm would disappear.
    Quinnault stared at her, gathering his thoughts. Then he nodded his head and took a deep breath.
    “My people.” Quinnault raised his arms above his head as he spoke the words in a voice that carried to the far reaches of the crowd.
    A few people paid heed and ceased their babble.
    “Stand higher on the bridge so that more people can see you,” Katie urged him. Hope sprouted in her chest at the crowd’s initial response to him.
    He took two steps back to the center of the arched span. His height and the elevation made him stand well above everyone. “My people, listen to me!” he commanded again in ringing tones worthy of a battlefield—or a pulpit.
    Katie immediately felt calmer, more confident. Apparently so did the mob. Quiet spread in gentle ripples.
    So this was Quinnault’s magic talent. Nothing overt enough for him to be called a magician, but enough—and perhaps the best talent for a man with aspirations to the priesthood or to leading a diverse populace through tribulation.
    “Listen to me, please. You must cease this violence!”
    Katie saw three men pause with hands upraised, ready to strike. But they didn’t complete their blows.
    “I understand your fears,” Quinnault said. “I lived through the wars, I fought alongside you when rival lords threatened these islands. And when peace came within our grasp, you declared me king. You, the people, decided I should lead you because you knew I would bring the warring factions together in compromise.” Quinnault paused a moment to let his words sink in.
    “Now we must all work together to maintain that peace. We must fight those who would disrupt that peace from within as well as without.”
    Men and women stared in disbelief at missiles of food and stones and tools and clubs they clutched in their hands. A woman in the front ranks deliberately put down the palm-sized rock she had been ready to lob at the man standing next to her. Her neighbor pocketed the hammer he held poised to defend himself.
    Quinnault breathed deeply.
    So you noticed that someone manipulated their emotions with magic, Katie