Wildas sent out an official royal summons to all the guild leaders the day he learned of Caolan's proclamation, and the meeting took place three days later. Servants had arranged a large table in the center of the Great Hall, with chairs enough for each leader and Wildas. He waited in a hidden doorway with Coulta and Shelton as each guild leader was escorted into the room with their advisers.

The Artisans' Guild arrived first and seemed surprised to not find enough chairs for all of them. The leader had brought a dozen members of the Guild, all dressed differently from each other. From across the Hall Wildas couldn't tell which smaller guild each member represented, or who the leader was. He only knew it was the Artisans' Guild because it was the largest.

The Pleasure Guild arrived next. There were three women dressed in red gowns and two men in red robes. There was no way to tell which member represented which preference from so far away, either.

"Ah, I wondered when this day would come," one of the red-dressed women declared, leaning a hip against the table as she ran an assessing eye over the other guild's members. "A meeting of the guilds in preparation for war."

"You're not a guild," a male voice from the Artisans' Guild growled.

The woman didn't even stop leaning against the table as she spread her arms. "Yet here we are, just like you."

"Get your pox-ridden corpses away from people who do honest work!" ordered another voice from the Artisans' Guild.

All but the leader of the Pleasure Guild stiffened at that, and Wildas almost expected someone to leap across the table, but they restrained themselves.

"What are they arguing about?" Coulta asked softly beside him.

"The Artisans don't consider the Pleasure Guild to be a true guild," Wildas explained. "Or a respectable profession."

"Courtesans are always the most hated yet the most sought after members of society," Shelton commented.

One of the red-robed men took a step forward. "I have to say I recognize a few faces among your members here. I do hope they've been to a healer recently."

That caused even more of a stir among the Artisans' Guild. They responded angrily and two members had to be physically restrained from attacking the Pleasure Guild.

"Now what happened?" Coulta asked, looking a little concerned.

When Wildas repeated the exchange, both Shelton and Coulta chuckled. Wildas had to smile at the sound of Coulta's amusement. Whenever he caught Coulta smiling or laughing, it reminded him just how much he loved his soul-partner.

The confrontation in the Hall ended with the arrival of what could only be the Merchants' Guild. Several well-dressed men and women entered the Hall, escorted by their own guards, which had the Guardsmen in the Hall on obvious alert. They were followed by another, slightly smaller group that was less well-dressed and could only be the Farmers' Guild.

"Should I be concerned for my safety and that of my guild?" the Merchant Guild leader demanded.

That somehow stopped the argument for the moment. Clearly the guild with the most money was the guild with the most power.

Shelton turned to Wildas. "You both wait until I announce you. I'll make sure they all respect each other and that everyone is here." He stepped out into the Hall and raised his voice to carry to their guests. "I certainly hope that no one is planning to do violence in the Great Hall. That would be most unwise."

The Hall went silent and everyone bowed to Shelton.

"Of course not, My Lord," the Artisans' Guild leader quickly replied.

"Good." Shelton stopped at the head of the table and motioned to the chairs. "All the leaders may sit. We weren't expecting so many others to be brought along. They may stand."

If the other guild members were offended to be left standing for an unknown amount of time, they didn't complain. Wildas watched as each leader sat at the table with the advisers standing in support behind them. Each group seemed to be ignoring the others. From the back appeared a man dressed all in black, who took a seat at the opposite end of the table. He had no advisers and Wildas assumed he was the leader of the Thieves' Guild.

Shelton sounded amused as he spoke again, "But before you get comfortable, please stand to honor Grand King Wildas and Second King Coulta."

Coulta followed Wildas into the Hall as the leaders got hurriedly to their feet again. Wildas acknowledged the bows with a nod and motioned for the leaders to sit again. He took his own seat at the head of the table with Coulta standing at his right and Shelton on his left.

"Thank you all for answering my summons," he began. "I have asked you here to formally call upon you to serve in the defense of the city in war. What plans have your guilds held to for such a time as this?"

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. When no one seemed willing to answer first, Wildas chose to address the troublemakers.

"Artisans – I'm sorry but I don't know your name, Guild Master."

The bearded man bowed his head. "Master Wilher, Your Majesty. Some of our members know combat skills, but our main plan is for creating a weapon of sorts. We have a guild-owned warehouse where we have collected scraps of material for nearly a hundred years. It is very well organized and inventoried. We have scraps of fabric that could be soaked in a liquid or oil to burn or sicken the enemy. We have shards of metal and glass, even broken pottery and other mixed items, which could make for painful projectiles if we could find a way to launch them at the enemy."

Wildas nodded thoughtfully. It was an idea he wouldn't have thought of, and he was sure they could find a way to implement it. "Very well. We will find a way to use that."

"We have a similar plan," the leader of the Farmers' Guild stated. "I am Master Maldor," he added. "We also collect items to be used in such a way, but ours tend to be broken household items, broken farm tools, and old leather harnesses and other tack. We hope some of this could be of use in the same way. Many of us also know how to fight with an ax or a bow. And we have a system of branding our animals so that, if need be, we can bring all of our livestock into the city to provide for everyone in a time of siege."

"And we will simply fight," added the leader of the Merchants' Guild. "All of us know how to defend our wares, and many of us have paid guards who will join us."

Wildas nodded again. "And your name?"

"Master Noak, Your Majesty," he answered.

"And we will fight," the leader of the Pleasure Guild declared. "I am Mistress Aranel, and I have made sure every member of my guild knows how to fight. If not for war, then for protecting ourselves in our work."

Master Wilher snorted. "What could you possibly need to protect yourselves from? Anyone has the right to do whatever they wish with you whores."

"Enough!" Wildas commanded, glaring at the man.

Mistress Aranel was utterly composed as she explained, "We all have limits that cannot be crossed even for the highest of prices. Perhaps we will stop serving your guild members completely."

"As if we would willing spend any time with you dirty dregs of the city."

Wildas couldn't stop himself from raising his voice this time. "I said enough! If you don't stop insulting others in my presence I will have Lord Shelton shut you up!"

Master Wilher had the decency to cower slightly. "Apologies, Your Majesty."

Wildas knew it was the only apology the man would be willing to make. He turned his attention to the other end of the table and the leader of the Thieves' Guild. "And what about your guild?"

The man was practically lounging in his seat, looking bored. "Why should we fight? The chaos of a new ruler would benefit the Thieves' Guild."

"That wouldn't last," Wildas pointed out. "Who will you sell stolen items to if no one will be able to afford them? Where will you find valuables to steal when Kemale seizes everything?"

The man shrugged. "That'll take time."

"This was a condition set in place when it was decided that the guild could continue to exist. Certain limits were set on your freedom to operate, under the condition that you could be called upon to defend the city. If you do not, we can end your guild whenever we choose."

"How do you expect to find all of us?"

"We found you."

"Valid point," the man said with a sigh. "I will suggest to my members that we assist you. I don't have the same authority as master as these others do. I can't promise that they will all obey, but I will advise them to."

Wildas nodded. "I will have it be known that I am not forcing any individual person to fight. If some are unprepared, even if it's only that they can't bring themselves to fight, I will not force them. I know that few members of any guild are trained soldiers. All I require is that every guild ask its members if they would defend their homes and livelihoods, and to have a plan to help those members who would join in the defense. That's all I request."

When the meeting ended a short time later Wildas remained with Coulta and Shelton while the guilds were escorted from the Hall.

"They're all going to need uniforms," Shelton commented. "So we can see clearly that they're fulfilling their duties."

"I'll talk to Teeya," Coulta offered as he sat down in a chair near Wildas. "She'll have to make them all identical with no marks to show which guild the wearer belongs to. Many people would be upset if all the prostitutes got thrown off the walls by the artisans and the brothels had to be closed."

Shelton snorted and sat down across from Coulta. "As ridiculous as that sounds, I believe they would do it."

Wildas leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "We've officially done all we can to ensure the defense of the city and the country. All there is left to do is wait and worry."

Before coming to Ryal Anil had never had the leisure time to take up such domestic pastimes as embroidery. She had constantly helped out around the house and her family's small plot of land. Then her entire family had grown ill and she'd spent her days caring for them, until all she could do for them was bury their bodies. Before she'd had much time to mourn, she'd taken over the work at the village stable, where she later met Wildas and Coulta.

But, as the weather worsened and she progressed into the last months of her pregnancy, she had nothing else to do but learn to embroider. She had learned to knit as a young girl, because knitting was a practical way to get clothing and blankets. Embroidery had been seen by both her mothers as frivolous. Dala, her lady-in-waiting, had begun teaching her only a month ago, and now she was creating designs that Teeya wished to use in gowns and coats.

"Your designs are so much more fascinating than mine," Dala commented one morning as they sat working by Anil's hearth. "How do you think of them?"

Anil shrugged. "I don't know. They just come to me along with the image of the person who should wear it."

"Is this part of the magic you get from Coulta?"

That made more sense than her being able to create such intricate designs on her own with such little experience. "Perhaps."

"Who is that one for?"

"Fae. She seems very sad. I want her to be able to speak her mind to Jaimathan and help him stop drowning in misery."

"His mother died and he's not home to take his place as king," Dala pointed out. "His mood is understandable."

Anil knew it was more than that. Coulta had explained that Jaimathan's magic had deserted him when he'd crossed into Phelin. That was making his situation even harder. Anil wasn't well-versed in the world of magic, so she hadn't tried to understand all the details. Magic could be incredibly complicated. The most she wanted to understand were her own powers borrowed from Coulta.

Before she could think of an appropriate reply, there was a knock on her open chamber door. She looked up and saw Wildas standing in the doorway, dressed handsomely in deep blue. The mark of his magic twisted down along his collarbone now, she noticed with mild amusement. She placed her work down on her lap as he approached. Not all of her doubts about their relationship had been banished yet, but she did feel much more comfortable with him than she had only a few months before. A genuine smile touched her lips as he leaned down and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"I see you have more magic than you did yesterday," she teased and reached her hands up to gently grasp his arms.

"Yes, well," Wildas mumbled, then kissed her cheek. "I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. And to tell you that there will be a small feast for you tonight."

She was surprised. "I thought we only celebrated for you."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't allow that. It won't be to the same extent as mine, but there will be food and music and dancing."

She craned her neck to kiss his lips lightly. "Thank you."

"Also," he said as he straightened and took a step back. "I got you this."

He pulled a glittering gold necklace from his coat. Firelight shimmered off the gold chain links and the fittings for the countless glittering green stones. Even after all of the expensive gifts she'd gotten since marrying Wildas, this was gorgeous and her breath caught in her throat.

"Do you like it?" he asked hesitantly.

She nodded and forced out the words, "Thank you. I love it."

He smiled and fastened it around her neck, then bent to kiss her deeply. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she murmured and leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment before adding, "But I do hope Coulta can give me some of his magic as a gift tonight."

"That's something you'll need to ask him yourself," Wildas replied, sounding amused. "I doubt he'll argue though."

Anil had a feeling that Wildas had said something to Coulta himself, however, if Coulta's doting behavior at the party was anything to judge by. Wildas was also especially kind to her, but Coulta stayed closer to her than to Wildas most of the evening. She was happy to be led to his room afterward, too. It was hard to believe that just six months ago she was utterly uncomfortable sharing a night with him. Now she greatly enjoyed it, even if his magic didn't want to grant itself to her every time.

He was much more restless in his sleep than Wildas or Myri, however. His constant shifting woke her just a short time after she'd fallen asleep.

Hoping to soothe him with her magic, she reached out and gently stroked his clammy cheek until he opened his eyes. He glanced around for a moment, then sat up, breathing so heavily his entire body shook.

Anil sat up beside him and gently took his hand. She willed some calming energy into him and his breathing began to slow.

"Thank you," he murmured.

She kissed his cheek. "What are your nightmares about?"

"Just my time in Arren," he replied vaguely.

She leaned back to give him a sharp look. "I'm not a delicate flower," she declared. "If my pregnancy makes you think I am, don't let it. I want to help you."

He sighed and gripped her hand tightly. "I dream of the innocent people I was forced to kill. I remember each face distinctly and they haunt me. Sometimes I'm drowning in their blood. Sometimes it's you or Myri or Wildas – even Shelton once – who are drowning or being held beyond my reach. No matter how many times I beg them to stop haunting me or I tell them that I'm sorry, they won't stop. Every single night. Usually Wildas will appear in the dream and ease it away. I don't truly know how to explain it, but I believe it has something to do with the soul-link. He doesn't always appear as soon as the dream starts, though. He hadn't quite reached me this time."

Anil eased a bit more soothing magic into him, feeling her heart break for him. "Have you talked to Brother Pelles?"

Coulta nodded. "I have since Wildas suggested it. He can't do much but pray for me and do cleansings that don't help."

"So no one can truly help?"

"I've been told it's a personal haunting. Only an immensely powerful Asir could even hope to help me, and there are none here in Ryal. Possibly all of Phelin."

Anil wasn't certain what she could say to that. Telling him that someone would help him someday didn't seem very fair and wouldn't help him now. So she just pulled him into her arms. The image of a new embroidery pattern began coming to her, but she pushed it from her mind until morning.

"It's cold," she finally murmured. "Let's get back under the blankets."

He nodded and lay down with her again, wrapping his arms around her.

As she relaxed against him she felt movement from her womb. She gently took Coulta's hand and placed it against her abdomen.

"What is it?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

She had to smile. "The baby is starting to get a little restless."

Even after the movement stopped, Coulta kept his hand resting lightly against her. "I'd rather it be you than me," he admitted.

She laughed. "I'm sure most men share that feeling."