Sarkon had lost no time in organizing for resistance in the global capital. In the few short months since his arrival, he had brought the artisans and scientists of Urbis to support the traditions of the age. This was his bold attempt to seek the audience and power of Urbis’ throne. He knew that his performance must be polished and convincing.

The King began to tremble slightly as Sarkon spoke. Finally, he lifted up his head and shook himself and stood. At length he spoke.

“Is it true that Praxis, the sculptor and builder, offered this strange Singer a sacred niche in the Temple of the Unicorn and his followers refused the offer?”

“I too have heard it, and I think it must be true,” said Sarkon in disgust. “I have heard their bold Anthem will not let their followers believe in unicorns at all.”

“Not believe in unicorns!” cried a nearby priest. He traced the sign of Urbis in the air.

“It is true,” said Praxis the Builder, entering the conversation. “I offered Anthem a temple niche for a statue of their leader.”

“But why did he refuse?” the King asked in wonder and surprise.

“Because,” replied the Builder, “he believes there are no gods or unicorns, and he does not want the men of Terra to look on the Singer as another of the mountain gods when they do not exist.”

“Enough!” cried the King of Urbis. “The time has come to deal with this blasphemous music loose among the temples of the truth. Tomorrow I shall have my knights set poison to the lower city. And we shall station soldiers at every tunnelway. Those who survive will be clapped in irons. We shall start the Games of Karnos with the public execution of all who refuse to confess the King of Urbis to be god. Sarkon, you shall be Public Prosecutor. You shall set the penalty and nature of the punishment for those who dare to disbelieve.”

Sarkon, beaming at the King’s response, asked if the King could lead them in the anthem to the mountain gods which the Poet King himself had written years before. The court of Urbis joined in the music which the King led them to sing:

“And when the wolf came down from the sky

And shook off the stars and left them to lie

In a pile of sparkling fire to be

The isle where Urbis took root in the sea.

And dragons came and took the land

And hissed their fire forbidding man

To settle in the dragons’ lair,

The star-corpse isle that claws laid bare.

But the peasants prayed. Primeval morn

Then came on the horn of the unicorn

That pawed the sea and tore the land

And gored the dragons on the sand.

And where the blood flowed there again

Would grow the souls of a thousand men.

A thousand gods were also born

On the giant horn of the unicorn.”

While they sang the anthem, Sarkon, who seemed the very incarnation of the gods, walked out of the hall, pleased at his new position in the service of the Poet King. Praxis shortly followed and soon caught up to him in the street.