The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

compromise without violence.
    In her fear for Quinnault, the rising noise around them faded from her awareness.
    Then she noticed the source of the shouts that had brought her to her husband’s side—she must have walked across the cobblestone stoop to stand at his side without being aware of anything but the need to touch his hand and reassure herself he still lived.
    Hundreds of people pressed against the foreign mercenaries. They shouted and brandished torches, makeshift clubs, and everyday tools as weapons.
    “They’re in league with the Rovers,” one man shouted. “They steal our money and terrorize our women and children!”
    “Kill the Rovers and their helpers!” Another man joined the litany of abuse. “I’ll not pay protection money to foreigners.”
    “Kill all the foreigners!”
    “Save the king from the filthy foreigners.”
    “Stargods bless the king.”
    The mercenaries looked over their shoulders nervously. They fingered their weapons but kept them sheathed. Their leader, face completely obscured by black veils, backed up two steps. He ran into a solid wall of his own men. They kept pressing forward, away from the murderous crowd. But as they moved away from the crowd, they came closer and closer to Quinnault and his entourage. A few more steps and confrontation was inevitable.
    “My people.” Quinnault raised his voice above the rabble. He also lifted his hands as a signal for quiet.
    The shouts and murmurs stilled closest to Quinnault and spread outward in waves.
    “People of Coronnan, listen to me! Once before, you joined to unify against forces that would have destroyed us with civil war. Now I ask you to join me again to save the kingdom. I need your help to unite the crown, the lords, the magicians, and the people. Only you, the people, can bind us together!”
    “What do you plan?” Katie whispered. Love and respect flooded her emotions. This medieval man, with a worldview limited by an aristocratic power structure, had just embraced a modern principle of democracy.
    He viewed the people as the heart and core of his kingdom.
    His mind smiled into hers. She saw his plan. The people would march in triumph to the University and challenge the Commune. Scarface would have to relinquish his hold on the magicians in the face of this determined mob backing their king.
    A mighty cheer rose from the throats of the people as they surged forward. The mercenaries looked warily around them. The people pressed against them so tightly they couldn’t draw or wield a weapon. Each of the foreigners found himself totally surrounded, cut off from his fellows.
    “Hear me, men of Rossemeyer!” Quinnault raised his hands and voice once more. His words echoed in the narrow street. “Honorable warriors, go back to your embassy. Inform Lady Rosselaara that this business is finished. I have investigated and found Ambassador Jorghe-Rosse’s death to be an accident. He died honorably fighting the storm and the bay, worthy enemies. No other lives will be forfeited. Take your ambassador home for funeral rites. You are free, all of you, to depart Coronnan with the evening tide.”
    “And if we doubt your ‘investigations’?” the head mercenary asked, fighting to maintain his balance in the midst of the pressing crowd.
    “Then your king must send me a new ambassador to negotiate. Now take Ambassador Jorghe-Rosse’s body and Lady Rosselaara home for a proper funeral. Would you like an escort to the docks? I’m certain the people of Coronnan City would be happy to see you safely on your way.”
    The mercenaries melted away. The people closed ranks, jeering at them. A few cityfolk who carried rocks and tools followed them back toward their embassy.
    “And now, my people, we must bring back a balance in our government. The Commune, the Council, and the King must once again hold equal power. No one faction can be allowed to dominate the others.” Quinnault forged a path through the throng of eager townspeople. They rushed to walk near him, touch him, bask in his glory.
    “Excuse me, Your Grace,” Luucian appeared at Katie’s elbow.
    “Luucian, what are you doing here? You are supposed to be at Shayla’s lair,” Katie gasped in surprise.
    “I’ve been there and back. The dragons know a few shortcuts. The others are trying to work their way through the crowd.”
    “My father?”
    “Well enough, for the time being. He’s in the kitchen, eating and drinking to restore some of his vitality. But,