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The second Play was longer than the first, consisting of four scenes. The first three told a recurring story as the leaders of one or other of the Commonwealth’s cities searched desperately for the cause of the dangers that beset them while the Dybbuk schemed in the background. The common theme in all three scenes was the warning given at the opening of each story by a non-human character who delivered the same message to the leadership of each city in turn, “Beware, for Betrayal stalks.”

 

Each time, the leaders of the city at first ignored the warning then, as calamity fell upon them, began to cast about for a scapegoat, always prompted by the Dybbuk in their midst. In the first scene, the merchant adventurers were blamed. They were, it was said, hoping to push up their prices by formenting insecurity. In the second scene, they blamed witchcraft, one character reporting proudly that fifty people had been impaled that morning, which surely the curse would soon be lifted. In the third scene, they blamed refugees from a city that had fallen earlier. They had destroyed their own home, now they sought to destroy their refuge.

 

In all three scenes, the non-human character returned to proclaim, “You have failed. Their work is done for them.”

 

The forth scene began.

 

“Beware,” said the non-human, “for Betrayal stalks.”

 

“Betrayal shall not claim us, for we are strong!” proclaimed the Council, speaking in unison.

 

This time, the non-human had more to say. I have travelled far. I have delivered my warnings. I have failed and my failure weighs heavily upon me, even if it is not truly my failure. Your confidence is misplaced, for they are already amongst you. You will heed my warning or you will be destroyed.”

 

One stood amongst the listeners. “Who is this visitor who speaks of failure that is not failure, who threatens us with destruction?”

 

“I do not threaten, I bring warning. My plea is sincere. Will you not heed me?”

 

The one who had spoken continued his questioning. “Who are these that we are to fear?”

 

“They are Dybbuk, which in the language of the Republic means ‘future’. They took the life of Convenor Elias. They took Harran and Thaal. They intend to take you.”

 

“The visitor seeks to frighten us with fables. It is known that the tribes took Thaal. It is known that Harran was visited by plague and famine. It is known that Convenor Elias was murdered by one of his kind, the traitor Bar Khoba.”

 

“Leave us, visitor. We shall not be distracted from our work by your warning” They spoke together. The non-human left the stage.

 

Time passed. The Council reconvened. The one who had spoken against the visitor spoke once again.

 

“Disaster! Though the rains come, the fields are barren and the storehouses are empty. The waters have been poisoned. The trading routes have been closed. Our people starve. How have we come to this?”

 

“Tell us, tell us!” responded the others.

 

“Betrayal!”

 

They howled in horror. “How? Who has done this?”

 

“The visitor. It was he who spoke of disaster, he who threatened us with it. We must be rid of him!  Then we will be saved.”

 

“Yes, yes!”

 

The visitor was dragged before them. He was beaten so he could no longer stand. They hurled words of accusation, fear and contempt at him as he weakened. Their howls of derision drowned out his cries of pain. The one who had spoke approached the dying visitor, bearing the sword that would claim what was left of his life.

 

“It was you,” said the visitor, “you were the Dybbuk.”

 

“I am,” said the Dybbuk, “and this city is mine.”

 

“You shall not succeed,” said the visitor.

 

The Dybbuk smiled coldly at him. “Your first warning was not heeded, but only because it was directed at fools. I shall heed this new warning. We shall not be defeated, for we know our true strength. We will stay in the shadows and we will use the weaknesses of the fools against them, as I have used them to destroy you, the one who would have saved them. Weep for your Commonwealth, for you know we shall have it in the end.”

 

The visitor wept. The sword claimed his life.

 

 

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Erle felt like weeping as well, for the nobility of the visitor’s futile quest. This story had been entirely new to him, full of a richness that he had never experienced.

 

He turned to Tinker, his mind full of questions. Tinker stopped him with a shushing motion. “It is customary to spend the period between the second and third Plays in silent contemplation. Think on what you have seen.”

 

 

 

 

Erle looked around. Rosanna’s eyes were wet, her compassion for the visitor evident. Sombre faces predominated in the crowd, in contrast to the earlier jocularity. Some openly shed tears.

 

But across the square was a face that stood out, for it reflected anger. Erle knew that face. Though he had long, shiny hair now as opposed to the close crop he had worn before, the man was unmistakeably Georg Aldersparre

 

Erle knew Aldersparre. He had been a follower of the Fanatic Arbanel Bazaine that had been broken up by the old Protector. Erle had been with the Troops that had done the job. He had seen the atrocities which Bazaine’s faction had committed, counted the corpses of women and children that had been left to rot in the streets of Ges during the Terror. He doubted whether the Boundary Guide remembered him, he had been an insignificant member of the expedition, a young officer on his first mission. Other people had taken the decisions. But he remembered Aldersparre. He had spat defiance even as he had been bundled into the wagon that would transport him back to the capital for judgement. He had no idea why Aldersparre had not been one of the dozen or so who had been executed.

 

More to the point what was he doing here? He must have come in with the delegation from Kahrain, Erle supposed.

 

 

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