The Survivors Read Online Free PDF Page B

of the chamber.
    “Clearly,” Jon Bladehook said, standing again. “Is it just me, or do these street preachers and religious zealots seem more common and aggressive than they used to be?”
    An angry murmur ran around the chamber.
    “Why, one can hardly walk from city hall to the Artisans’ Cavern without some lunatic shouting at you that you must repent, that the end is nigh, or some such nonsense.”
    All around the chamber, councilmen were frowning and nodding and muttering. Bradok remembered the man with the painted sign and glanced involuntarily up at the gallery that had been so recently emptied.
    “It’s a public nuisance,” Bladehook went on. “Not to mention the fact that any of these zealots might be in on whatever plot Argus Deephammer is hatching to stir up the people.”
    “Arrest them all,” someone yelled. Others joined in until pandemonium filled the chamber.
    Only Bradok noticed the oily, self-satisfied smile flirting around the corners of Jon Bladehook’s mouth. That was the solution he hadn’t wanted to propose himself.
    Bradok felt the cold knot return to his stomach.
    “Enough of this,” Mayor Arbuckle shouted, pounding on the lectern.
    The room fell silent, and Bladehook’s face returned to an emotionless mask.
    “As our new brother, Bradok, has shrewdly pointed out, any move by this council that is considered extreme will weaken our position.”
    “Well, what do we do then?” old Tal Boreshank asked irritably. “If we don’t act, sooner or later it’ll look like we endorse all this religious rhetoric. I, for one, have had my fill.”
    Angry arguments broke out all over the hall. Some of the council favored sweeping measures, while others urged caution. Bradok just sat there, thinking. He was no believer, that much was certain. Still, something about how the council had treated Argus Deephammer and his solemn warning seemed, well—undwarflike.
    He looked down the row to where Jon Bladehook stood, leaning against the front of his desk. He seemed to be basking in the glow of the controversy. As a secularist, he clearly disapproved of the believers, but Bradok thought the intensity of Bladehook’s emotion suggested something more beneath the surface. It seemed as though the notion that others believed in something he considered foolish was a personal affront to him.
    In that moment, Bradok felt certain that Bladehook would not stop until he’d put all the Ironroot believers in jail—or worse.
    “Ban them,” Bradok said abruptly, his voice cutting through the arguing. He stood as all the eyes in the room returned tohim. “We can pass an ordinance banning proselytizing outside the temple grounds and private homes,” he explained. “That way we get them off the street but they can still speak their piece.”
    A long pause followed during which no one spoke. Bradok started to worry that he’d gone too far. Then Much cleared his throat.
    “I like that plan,” Much said, standing formally. “It solves the immediate problem, and the citizenry will see it as a reasonable measure to prevent interference with daily lives.”
    Around the chamber, bearded heads were nodding in agreement.
    Mayor Arbuckle stroked his beard, a shrewd look on his face. Finally he smiled and nodded at the scribe who sat at a low table across the hall.
    “Write it up,” he declared. “Make sure it’s posted in the square, at the temple, and in every tavern in Ironroot.”
    As the scribe began scribbling diligently, Mayor Arbuckle rose from his chair and heaved a deep sigh. He tossed his gavel down on the lectern with a bang. “Well, that’s quite enough business for one day,” he said, donning his topcoat. “Unless anyone else has something to add, I’m going home.”
    It was as if a magic spell had been broken. The tension dissipated. Everyone rose, talking among themselves and gathering their things. Within seconds the chamber began to empty.
    “You did good, lad,” Much said, clapping him on