The Kallathik were motionless now, nothing to distinguish them from a line of carved totems, apart from the twin sets of spears they carried at the ready. Lines of wooden statues heralding the gray and windswept dawn. The breeze fluttered against his tunic. He could smell the rain in the air.
Off to the right, two hills away, stood the gaunt, robed figure of the priest, Witness Kovaar. At this distance, he could not make out the man's features, but the priest seemed to be in conversation with one of the Kallathik leaders. The creature's head was swiveled down attentively. Kovaar pointed across to one of the estates, then across to another. Tarlain turned his attention to the landscape in front. So, it had finally come to this. The Kallathik, the Church of the Prophet, the Atavists, the workers from the mines, all stood together, and there, below, lay the symbols of what they stood against. Over to the left stood the estates of Karryl Ky Menin, Guildmaster of the Technologists; further off in the distance, the estates of his sister, and her husband, Yosset Clier. Somewhere, out of sight from where he now stood, lay Welfare, and Primary Production. These lands were power, or at least the symbol of power. He glanced over at the horizon, where a pale orange-red glow marked the edge of the land. The Twins would rise soon and paint everything before them with the color of blood. He drew in a deep breath and held it. It would not only be The Twins that would mark the landscape with a bloody taint.
A flash of something from Ky Menin's estates drew his gaze, and reflexively, his grip tightened on the wooden shaft of the spear he was carrying. This was it. Even at this distance, he could see figures emerging from the buildings of Ky Menin's holdings. Apparently, Kovaar had noticed the motion too, for a triumphant cry issued from his position. The priest was waving his arms, gesticulating toward the emerging figures.
"Do something! Now!" he heard him scream. Still the Kallathik stood unmoving.
People below were running out from the Ky Menin estates. Tarlain glanced about himself. Surely, the idea was to catch the Guildsmen unawares. There was little hope of that now. Someone had clearly raised the alarm, because more figures were starting to emerge from the other estates. What the hell was he doing here, alone and exposed on an empty hillside? At least he could have positioned himself amongst the ranks of Kallathik warriors, but it was too late for that now.
Over on the other hill, Witness Kovaar was making a show of waving his arms, dashing halfway down the slope, then charging up again. As the wind swirled about, he could catch half-defined snatches of the priest's cries. It seemed to have absolutely no effect on the ranked Kallathik, who simply continued to stand as if they were carved from the very stuff of the hill itself.
Small knots of men were crossing the fields below, drawing ever nearer. They wore clearly visible Guild uniforms and carried various weapons. Tarlain frowned. These were Guildsmen of number. They were more than simple household staff, and there were far too many of them. This was not a population caught unawares. Somehow, the Guilds had been warned. They were all there, representatives of each of the Guilds, their uniforms separating them one from the other by color and cut. Even Welfare was there. Despite all their conversations, despite everything they had spoken of, the fine ideals, the recipes for change, Karnav Din Baltir had thrown in his lot with the rest of them. Tarlain worked his jaw and tightened his grip on the spear handle, trying to push away the feeling of betrayal. What else could Din Baltir have done?
Across the landscape, the deep ruddy orb of the Minor Twin crept above the horizon, a sliver of orange-yellow light marking the presence of its larger, brighter sibling. Shafts of light thrust across the plane, setting long copper shadows streaming from buildings and the approaching Guildsmen. Why weren't the Kallathik doing anything? What were they waiting for? Kovaar was still charging up and down the hillside in front of them, exhorting them to move, but they just stood there, seemingly unaffected by his performance.
The twin suns crept ever higher, then, as if at some strange signal, the wind stopped. The silence was so clear that Tarlain could hear his breath in his ears, his heart pounding in his chest. Everything was still. The men below were still too far away to hear anything from then. It was as if, in that moment, the entire world was holding its breath. Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, a strange humming swelled from the Kallathik ranks, a deep moaning cry echoing in the pit of his abdomen and growing with every second.
