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Gorkenfort and Smyrton, Jayme was scared they were connected. The responsibility of his position weighed heavily on him.
    Moryson and Gilbert watched silently, both aware of the seriousness of these reports, both glad they were not the ones who had to make the decisions. Moryson scratched his chin reflectively. He knew dark events were upon them.
    Slowly Jayme turned back to his assistants. “Tomorrow Carlon celebrates King Priam’s nameday. The celebrations will end with a banquet in the royal palace to which Priam has extended me an invitation. He has also advised me that we will need to meet privately to discuss the problem at Gorkentown. Neither Priam nor the Seneschal can meet this threat alone. Achar will have to stand united as it never has before if we can hope to survive the threat of the Forbidden. Artor help us, now and forever.”
    “Now and forever,” the other two echoed, draining the dregs of their wine.

2
AT KING PRIAM’S COURT
    K ing Priam’s nameday was an occasion of great celebration throughout Achar, but nowhere more than in the city of Carlon where a general holiday was proclaimed. In the morning Priam presided over a parade through the winding streets of the ancient city, sitting under a heavily embroidered canopy that usually kept sun from his regal brow. Today it kept an unseasonable drizzle from his closely curled head. Despite the unsettling rumours from the north, the townsfolk lined the streets for the parade—an affair put on by the various guilds of Carlon to honour their king. Priam waved cheerfully enough throughout the extended parade, although he was bored witless by the time the fifty-seventh flower-draped cart passed him by. He made a good-humoured speech at its conclusion, thanking the guilds for their efforts on his behalf, and saying some graceful words about the large number of enthusiastic (but largely talentless) children of guild members who had performed throughout the parade. The crowd cheered their king warmly, Priam beamed and waved some more, and then everyone hurried home, remarking on the cold weather and wondering whether it would affect the evening’s festivities.
    Priam’s nameday was the one day of the year when he extendedhis royal largesse to all the citizens of Carlon, providing them with a free feast (although if they wanted to sit down they had to bring their own stools). With the tens of thousands of mouths that had to be fed, the public banquet involved many months of careful planning and preparation. As much as anything, the banquet was an opportunity for the lords of the various provinces of Achar to demonstrate their loyalty towards their liege. Earl Burdel of Arcness bred and transported five hundred substantial porkers, the gigantic Duke Roland the Walker (too fat to ride) of Aldeni supplied two hundred and thirty-five carts of vegetables and fruit, Baron Fulke of Romsdale supplied enough ale to keep the Carlonites off work for three days after the banquet, and two hundred and twenty barrels of his best red. Baron Ysgryff of Nor, understanding that the citizens of Carlon would need to have something to entertain them once they had drunk and eaten to sufficiency, donated the services of one hundred and eighty-five of the best whores and dancing boys from the streets of Ysbadd. All the lords contributed what they could, eager to impress the king, but the most generous of all was Borneheld, Duke of Ichtar, who donated an entire herd of his finest mutton and beef, and distributed amongst the guilds a fistful of diamonds and emeralds from his mines in the Urqhart Hills. Of course, muttered the assembled lords around goblets full of Baron Fulke’s finest, Borneheld could afford to be the most generous since he controlled more territory than any four of them put together.
    By nine in the evening the citizens of Carlon were happily gorging themselves at the various venues—the town hall, the market square, and seven of the massive guild halls. The whores