Cry of the Newborn Read Online Free PDF

panels carved with the crest of the Estorean Conquord. The doors were pulled open on their approach, giving them their first view of the chamber. Modelled on the senate building in Estorr, four stepped marble benches ran down its length, left and right of a carpeted path that led to the Advocate's seat. Behind her seat were six of her senior advisers, waiting with every scrap of information she might need and to record every word spoken. The chamber itself was beautifully warm from the hypocaust running beneath it. The bright painted walls and ranks of delegates in white and green togas made it feel as comfortable as a solastro afternoon.
    There were upwards of three hundred delegates in the chamber awaiting the Advocate's arrival. Marshal Defenders of each territory were present, along with their delegations of aediles and propraetors. Further up the chamber, the Chancellor of the Order of Omniscience, Felice Koroyan, sat on the left with her inner circle of four High Speakers. On the right, the praetors and consuls of the Conquord were arranged in order of seniority. Jhered's twelve-strong Gatherer council was on the bottom bench below them.
    Ranks of faces turned towards her. Herine Del Aglios strode along the deep green carpet with her head high, nodding left and right at the assembly. Once a year, they met like this, the leaders of the territories all in one place to set the agenda for the next cycle to be administered centrally from Estorr. And every year, the agenda was much the same. Herine suppressed a smile at the thought of sheep bleating.
    Every voice had stilled by the time she reached her seat and sat down to look back at the assembly. Jhered and Vasselis took their places and she noted the envious looks cast by more than a few in their direction. Honour and service meant favour. So it had always been.
    'My friends, welcome,' she said, her voice carrying clear across the chamber. 'It is a cold day outside but the glory of the Conquord warms us in here. And I would take such warmth beyond the Conquord's present borders.' She waited while the rumble of conversation died. 'First, I will hear reports from you all concerning the state of your armies and navies, both standing and marching. I will then outline any increases necessary in those forces and finally will take questions before we get on to mundane matters of administration.
    'Marshal Defender Katrin Mardov, please, the state of the Gesternan armed forces. The floor is yours.'
    Herine leaned back and watched Katrin rise. A great woman. She settled in her cushions and prepared to listen.
    Hesther Naravny blew on her hands and rested them on the tree trunk. The orchard's owner, Lucius Endrade, stood nearby, wrapped in furs against the wind that howled across the open plateau from the sea.
    ‘I wish you'd told me sooner,' said Hesther.
    ‘I didn't think it serious,' he said. 'Just frost burn.'
    Hesther turned and looked around the orange and lemon grove. Every single tree was encased in a lumber box tied with burlap against the onset of the short chill season Westfallen always experienced around this time of the year. Three of them had been partially unboxed for Hesther to examine. Lucius said that thirty more were afflicted. All in the same area of the orchard.
    'It was never likely to be that, was it?' she said rather tartly.
    Snow began to fall and her mood cooled with every flake. She glanced at the young Ascendants grouped near her. She had brought them up here at the insistence of Ardol Kessian, who had thought it a good opportunity to see if any of them evidenced Land Warden abilities. All she wanted right now was to load them back on the cart and get them back to the villa. They'd begun by running around screeching and throwing snowballs but the cold had got into them quickly. Now, the four of them stood in a huddle, with hands in gloves and bodies covered in scarves, fur-lined leather coats and woollen hats. Blue noses protruded.
    'So what is it?'