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."
"What is this mockery?" Michael gasped, appalled, no
longer able to keep quiet. "I can't believe this! Haven't they
learned? This is worse, far worse - "
"Hush!" Nikol hissed and dragged him even farther
back into the shadows.
The speaker moved through the crowd, handling the
people skillfully, giving them what they wanted, yet subtly
ridding himself of them. A small retinue, led by the man
who had asked the speaker to read the laws, formed a
circle around the Revered Son and managed to extricate
him from the press. He and his henchmen emerged near
where Michael and Nikol stood, hidden by the trees.
Some of the mob continued to surge sluggishly about
the library steps, but most grew bored and wandered off to
the taverns or whatever other amusements could cheer their
dreary existence.
"You had them eating out of your hand, Revered Son.
Why didn't you urge them on?"
"Because now is not the time," the Revered Son
answered complacently. "Let them go to their friends and
neighbors and tell what they have heard this day. We'll
have a hundred times more people than this at our next
rally and a hundred times a hundred more after that. In the
meantime, we'll whip up their fear and their hatred.
"Remember that half-elf baker we talked to yesterday,
the stubborn one, who refused to leave the city? See to it
that his loaves make a few people sick. Use this." The
Revered Son handed over a small glass vial. "Let me know
who's taken ill. I'll be around to 'heal' them
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