Their advisers. Like ancestor spirits. The trees are important to them.

Holy.” I kept explaining, trying different words for what I was trying to convey. His eyes had narrowed when I first spoke of the trees. With every description I added, they seemed to go stonier.

When my words staggered to a halt, he asked me sternly, “Is this your information? Is this ALL of it?”

“Yes, sir. Well, not quite all. The fear we feel at the end of the road, the discouragement that drenches this town: it’s all Speck magic. If we stopped threatening the trees, it would go away. If we backed up and surveyed a completely different route through the mountains, one that didn’t cut through their sacred groves, Gettys would be a peaceful place again.” He made a contemptuous noise. He shook his head, then gave me a painfully incredulous smile. “Soldier. If we stopped trying to build the road, Gettys would be a near-useless place again. A place to come to trade for furs each summer, and a place to leave again. Gettys’ only future is if the King’s Road is pushed through the Barrier Mountains. If it goes through, we become the last civilized stopping place on that route. If it’s not, if we stop cutting the trees…pray tell, what purpose do we have in being here?” I blinked, my heart sinking. “Then…you already knew the trees were sacred to the Specks? That they house ancestor spirits?”

“Oh, please. Yes, of course we know of their quaint superstitions. If you have more details on them, then take them to Dr. Frye. He will listen to them carefully, write down your every word, and send it off to the queen herself. He hopes to curry favor with her by supplying tales for her collection of native lore. Burvelle, I’m surprised at you. The last time we spoke for any length of time, you convinced me that your father was mistaken in his evaluation of you. You seemed enterprising and thoughtful. Now the town simmers with rumors of your whoring, to the point at which twice ladies have come to me presenting petitions to bring charges against you. I was still willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but here you come to my door on the day of an important inspection to tell me tales of ‘ancestor trees.’ Try to think about it like an educated man, Burvelle. After all, it was believed you were academy material at one time!” I held my temper with difficulty. “Sir, I think I understand this situation far better than anyone else. If we provoke the Specks by cutting those trees, they will rise against us. They already perceive that we are at war with them. This will push them into making it more deadly. You yourself warned me that I should not antagonize them. Cutting their trees will do far more than that!” He laughed. “The Specks? At war with us?

Yearly their trade with us increases. Do people at war with one another trade together? Deadly? Oh, come, come. You can’t be serious. I told you what happened the last time we ‘fought’ them. It was a slaughter for them.