Aphenglow shook her head to indicate she wasn’t sure.

“We would like to leave a written declaration of intent for the Ard Rhys to read,” the speaker aboard the Arishaig said suddenly. “May we land a flit inside the compound to deliver it?”

Aphenglow felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle in warning. “We are in lockdown,” she repeated. “We cannot receive visitors. Can we meet you outside the gates to accept delivery?”

“Will you identify yourself, speaker?” A different voice now, one less practiced at disguising impatience.

Aphenglow looked over at Bombax for guidance, but he was deliberately looking away. “I am Aphenglow Elessedil,” she answered.

“This is Drust Chazhul. I am familiar with lockdowns, and they do not include diplomatic missions. I regard this refusal as a deliberate rebuke and a rejection of my efforts to establish a fresh rapport between the Federation and your order. If I am correct in my reasoning, say so and we will leave without further discussion. If not, then remember your place and allow us to land.”

She felt herself flush. “Prime Minister, I appreciate your disappointment. But a lockdown at Paranor makes no exceptions, not even for diplomatic missions. Moreover, I am not simply authorized, but required, to refuse your request. This is neither a rebuke to you personally nor a rejection of your efforts. If you wish, you can land outside the walls and wait for the Ard Rhys to return. But I cannot tell you how long the wait might be.”

The silence this time was chilling. On the decks of the Arishaig, men were moving about, taking up stations as if they knew what was coming. Aphenglow had the unpleasant feeling that a prearranged plan of action was being carried out.

She walked over to Krolling and Bombax and whispered to the former. “Are we protected against them?”

“Fully,” the big Troll answered. Bombax caught her eye and nodded in agreement.

From the deck of the Arishaig: “I think you mean us harm, Aphenglow Elessedil,” Drust Chazhul called out suddenly. “I think this refusal has nothing to do with a lockdown and everything to do with seeking to gain an advantage over us. I am beginning to suspect you lured us here. The history of the Druids is one of duplicity and subterfuge. An invitation was extended and is now suddenly withdrawn for no discernible reason. Are you hiding something behind those walls that we are not intended to see? Are you engaged in activity harmful to the governments and peoples of the Four Lands? If not, let us come inside!”

“Get down off the walls,” she said at once to everyone around her, giving particular attention to Arling, who had been joined by Cymrian. To his credit, Cymrian immediately guided her sister to the stairs in spite of her obvious reluctance.

Bombax was beside her instantly, and the Trolls were off the wall and behind protective battlements and ramparts, weapons drawn.