For the first time during the encounter, Lyam was visibly rattled. "Last night?"
Naitachal studied him further, saying nothing.
Alaire knew his Masters expression well; it boded soft speech and clever verbal maneuvering that could pull the words right out of one's mouth, and get one to confess to almost anything. I sure hope he's not using magic to help him right now....
"Ambassador, are you claiming you were attacked?"
Lyam stared at the Dark Elf with narrowed eyes.
"Why didn't you summon help?"
Naitachal shrugged. "None seemed available at the time, and afterwards, I doubted it would make any dif- ference. So. You didn't send an assassin to kill me?"
Lyam seemed flustered. "What possible reason would anyone have to do that?"
Naitachal frowned. "I did not think you to be so obtuse, Captain. To trigger a war, of course. But if you did not -- "
"I most certainly did not!" Lyam exclaimed. "I was looking for an ally in your company, not a target for assassination!"
Silence, for a long moment. "Then who could have?" Naitachal asked, grimly.
Alaire caught a key word in Lyam's last statement.
Ally. That would imply an inner political struggle of some sort, one that this man would want us to take sides on. Perhaps our guesses weren't so far off afte Naitachal seated himself on one of the benches, folding his hands comfortably, and unaggressively, on his lap. The posture had the desired effect; Lyam relaxed slightly, emphasizing how little he'd tensed up.
Naitachal began. "My researches lead me to trust you, sir. In fact, I came looking for you, Captain Lyam.
I wish to lay my cards on the table, so to speak."
Lyam nodded cautiously.
"I have... questions. The first, and most obvious to me, is why are there so few non-humans in this land?
This was not the case several years ago. Though other non-humans were not plentiful, the dwarves, who are excellent artificers and makers of weapons -- and never had much love for magic either -- were present in great numbers."
Lyam nodded in agreement, opened his mouth to say something, then apparently thought better of it.
He let Naitachal continue uninterrupted.
"My own people, as well as the White Elves, vi Suinomen often enough that most folk knew, at least, what an elf looked like. Your own Guard employed many orcs upon the northern border. But all of this has changed." Naitachal raised a single eyebrow, inquisitively. "Why?"
Lyam cleared his throat, but Alaire could see it was only a stalling tactic, designed to give him time to for- mulate an answer. Yes, Captain of the Guard. Why is that? If anyone would know, you would.
"Well," Lyam said. "The non-humans were at one time more numerous, I must admit But about twenty-five or thirty years ago, the government encouraged them to leave. Something happened back then -- what, I do not know, but it was decisive, and sudden. I was a child herding dieren in the hills then; I remember nothing except that suddenly the non-humans were gone. And this didn't happen over several years. It happened almost overnight. And now, the government advises those who cross our borders to cross back as soon as their business is complete. Once they hear about the Prison of Souls, they usually find urgent business elsewhere."
Naitachal nodded sagely. "Was this about the time magic became illegal?"
Lyam frowned. "Suinomen has always regulated magic," he corrected carefully. "At that time, however, it became more difficult to practice. That's whe Association came into existence. And, of course Prison of Souls."