“Alric Rahl has also just arrived from the D’Haran Lands,” Sadler said. “That man has turned the Keep upside down with his own urgent demands. He had been hoping to meet with First Wizard Baraccus. Something to do with some rather startling claims and even more startling remedies. With your husband dead, there are an endless variety of urgent problems that must be attended to.”

“As you can no doubt appreciate,” Councilman Guymer, down at the end of the line, added, “we have any number of pressing issues of rule which require our full attention for now.”

“Ah.” Magda smiled without humor as she looked at each man in turn. “Pressing issues. Matters of state. Great questions of warfare and rule. You must all be terribly busy with such work. I understand.

“So you are here, then, about one of these momentous issues? That is what brings you out of council chambers to see me? Vital business of state? Matters of war and peace?”

To a man, their faces turned red.

Magda strolled past the line of six. “So how may I help with such important issues that require the council’s full attention? Please tell me what urgent matter of state brings you to me this particular day, the same day we all stood by and prayed that the good spirits would take my departed husband, our leader, our First Wizard, into their gentle arms? Speak up, then. What urgent matter takes you away from your vital work and brings you all up here today?”

Their expressions turned dark. They didn’t like being mocked. At that moment, Magda didn’t much care.

“You know why we’re here,” Cadell said in an even tone. “It is a small duty, but an important one that demonstrates our respect for our heritage. It shows people that even in such times, tradition still has meaning to every one of our people, even those in high places. Sometimes, ceremony is essential for the continued cohesion of society.”

Councilman Sadler’s bony fingers fidgeted with the sky blue band of rank sewn on the sleeves of his black robes. “It demonstrates to people that there is continuity of the ways that have been handed down to us, that the customs of our people, that the practices that govern civilization itself, still matter and will not be abandoned.”

Magda glared at the man a moment before turning her back on them and sitting on the chair before the table.

“Do it, then,” she said in a voice finally gone lifeless and empty. “Carry out your critical custom. And then leave me be.”

What did it matter anymore?

Without another word one of the men pulled out a bloodred ribbon and handed it to her over her shoulder. Magda held it a moment, feeling the silken material in her fingers.

“This is not something we take pleasure in doing,” Cadell said quietly from behind her. “I hope you can understand that.”