Burning Tower Read Free Page A

have to start all over again.
    He raised his voice. “Evidently you did not hear! This area is under the protection of the Lord’s Witnesses! I command you to leave this area at once. Do so now!”
    The Pizzles looked at Sandry’s men, then to Wanshig. Wanshig turned away contemptuously and began shouting orders to his Firemen. The bucket lines began to move again.
    â€œNow, if you please!” Sandry shouted. “Troopers! Make ready!”
    Spearmen in each chariot raised spears.
    â€œOh yeah, we didn’t hear you before,” a Pizzle shouted. “We’re leaving!” They gathered their dead and wounded and left in a walk, their heads still high.
    Sandry glanced over to Wanshig and got a grin. Good, Sandry thought. Good. Wanshig didn’t really want a war either.
    As the Pizzles were leaving, a chariot clattered out of the smoke from the north. Regapisk blocked the retreating Pizzles with his chariot. “Stand! You’re taken!” he shouted. “Lord Sandry, I have them!”
    There were three Snakefeet with Lord Regapisk, all clinging to his chariot, all looking blackened and the worse for wear. They’d been in smoke and ashes. And the Pizzles had dropped their dead, carefully set down their wounded. They hadn’t drawn their knives. Not quite.
    â€œCancel that order!” Sandry shouted. “You are free to go. Now go! Lord Regapisk, a moment of your time, if you please…”

Chapter Two
Congregation
of Witness
    T hey had rebuilt the Registry Office on Peacegiven Square. The fountain in the center of the square gave out only a trickle of water, but it was working, and you couldn’t see any grass growing up between the paving stones. There were two permanent market tents, each protected by an armed Lordkin who sat quietly without menacing the mostly kinless customers. Give it another year, and Peacegiven Square might be the center of town again, a neutral place for markets and trade and city administration. And that, Sandry thought, was all the doing of Whandall Feathersnake, master trader, Wagonmaster, a great man whose name and sign were known all along the Hemp Road—and once a Lordkin of Serpent’s Walk. Brother of Wanshig. Burning Tower’s father.
    Inside was cool. They’d done a proper job of rebuilding the Registry Office. Light came from shafts built into the ceiling and reaching through the roof. The hearing room was paneled in redwood, with redwood benches, and a table for the Witnesses. When everyone was inside and seated, a clerk rapped on a connecting door.
    Four Witnesses came out and sat in silence. They all wore their robes of office, and tight-fitting caps that hid their hair and ears so that it was impossible to know if they were Lordkin or kinless. A Witness Clerk came out with them. He concealed his ears too, but it was pretty obvious that he was kinless. The clerk looked around the room, then spoke loudly.
    â€œWe are ready. This Congregation of Witness is now in session. All those with matters of concern to the Lords Witness of this city draw nigh and you shall be heard! Lord Witness Qirama presiding. All stand.”
    Sandry was pleased to see that everyone did, without prodding. Lordkin were unpredictable. Qirama strode into the room at a dignified pace and took his place at the center of the big table.
    Lord Witness Qirama was about ten years older than Sandry, a relative who as a Younglord had specialized in law rather than warfare or administration. He wore the cap of a Witness and also a hood, but it was clear enough that he was a Lord, neither Lordkin nor kinless. Sandry knew that two of the junior witnesses attending today were Younglords in training. Most Witnesses were kinless who handled routine business in the city, recording pacts between bandleaders and carrying decrees from Lordshills to the townspeople. Some Lordkin suspected this, but they could never be sure who the Witnesses were, and harming