First there came a muted scraping from the space in the wall, then another. Then, a more metallic scratching noise that Yarrien now recognised as the stoking of the burning woodpile in the fireplace. The other sound though he was struggling to identify. It came again, this time proceeded by two successive thuds, and then another, louder thud. Yarrien had become a master at pinpointing objects without the assistance of sight during these sessions of eavesdropping, but these new ones evaded him. Suddenly, it became clear: New chairs were being placed by the hearth, probably the gaudy, cream, crushed velvet Kelso Wingbacks, the same as the one that usually resided there in solitude. The louder double thud must've been a single table on which to place their glasses of brandy and cigarillos.

  Yarrien perked into an upright position. 'The Keights must be expecting guests!' He thought. 'Wait, the spot by the fireplace is usually occupied by Gwilleme alone. What did I hear him call it that one time...?' He searched his wine-soaked memory. 'His square of sanctuary?' It was difficult to remember, as it had been yelled at the poor dog who was laying within its boundaries at the time.

  There were two smaller thuds, so if it was just Gwilleme entertaining, then it must be he and two others. Who could be the invitees? Members of Ruskelite high society? Captains of industry? Owners of the precious metal mines? It couldn't be other Councillors, of course. Near the top of the long, long list of Ruskelite laws, codes, decrees, measures and statures was the rule that Councillors were forbidden to liaise outside of the Red Juno council chambers, not even for the purposes of simple socialisation.

  There were a few hushed mumblings, which Yarrien assumed to belong to the poor servants who worked for the Keights. After that came silence for some time. He grew weary of how late it was getting, again handicapped by the lack of natural light in these dungeons, relying entirely on his own mental clock to keep track of the passing minutes. He wanted to make it home before Hidell's bedtime. If not, then this would surely prompt his father to inquire more fervently as to where he'd been disappearing to. But there was something about tonight that urged Yarrien to stay. Some fateful whisper from the universe rooting him to the spot on the raised platform.

  After a further wait, the unmistakable nasal drone of Gwilleme Keight came pouring through the black hole as clear as ever, but still also with the unnerving echo effect. 'They're here, already?! Fine, but keep your voice down Hatherby. Witless serf. And what did I say about using their names? Remember, you will say nothing of what you see tonight, or I'll throw you and your Mother over the top floor balustrade.'

  'Keight must've sat down by the fire at some point.' Thought Yarrien. 'At least his movements are more silent than his speech.'

  He heard Gwilleme start to mutter: 'Fucking Hatherby. Started back in my Father's employ and yet remains a distrcted fool... Ah yes, please come in.'

  Keight's tone shifted dramatically with these final five words - more reverent, and with no small measure of deference, like a new schoolboy asking the big kids if he could play. Yarrien heard nothing else for another minute or so until a new voice started to creep from the black space. A woman's, but far less erratic than Mrs Keight's, that displayed little in terms of lilt or intonation.

  'I hope this will be worth our while Gwilleme.' It said, 'you know the rules better than most.'

  'Yes,' said Keight, 'but with my particular position in the Assembly, it would be I who'd take the greatest fall if we were to be caught.'

  'That might be true, but we don't want to be pushed off the cliff with you.' Interjected a third voice, a man's this time, rich in timbre and with a curious degree of humour in it. Yarrien felt a wave of smugness - his hypothesis about the number of chairs had been proven. And yet, who were these two new characters? He shifted closer to the source of the sounds, drew in only shallow breaths, and listened to the conversation with the most keen scrutiny. He'd quite forgotten about the quarter-drunk bottle of wine that sat at the lip of the platform.

  Stolen story; please report.

  'We're not at a cliff's edge. No, we're at a crossroads. But please, relax a little, try the summer wine. There's some smoked honey there. Try it with the coffee grains and Brigstowe cheese. Believe me, it's a potent combination.'

  Yarrien found it strange to hear Gwilleme Keight talk with such poise and manners. It must be how he usually addressed those he considered to be of equal merit and peership, while his frustrations were reserved and spent on lesser beings like hirelings, wives and dogs.

  'We can't stay long Gwilleme,' said the man, 'my excuse for being away from my own wingback is thin at best, I don't want any lateness to stoke my wife's suspicions.'

  The woman chuckled, 'I'd wager this isn't the first time this week you've snuck out, even just to tend to your pipe and your flask of whiskey.' She said.

  'Hearsay!' Cried the man, the levity behind the utterance once again coming through.

  'Good I'm glad you're both addressing this gathering with a lighter heart. It's a significant contributor to why I chose the two of you, and not any of the others. Though, that's not to dispel the gravity of this conversation.'

  'And what, pray tell, is the reason the two of us are risking our hides to bless you with company?' Asked the man in his silky deep voice.

  'Again, the crossroads. I couldn't afford to bring this matter to the assembly, before all the other Heads of Council. You know I see myself as the most devout of Ruskelites, but there is truth in our stereotypes. Hell, it takes us months of debate to settle on the most menial of decisions. There's a reason the Colloseans call us the Tortoise Warriors. And...,' Keight paused for a while to gather his words, 'this matter requires proactivity as well as tact.'

  'I think I can guess what you're getting at here, Gwilleme.' Said the woman. 'But I hope I'm wrong, for such conversations fly right in the face of the Assembly doctrines. Plus we've discussed this in The Chamber already, multiple times.'

  'We've discussed the state of the Collosean-Haemonine pre-war movements, yes, although we've barely scratched the surface there. However, we're failing in our duty to decide on our next moves, for the good of the Ruskelite realm.'

  'I gather you know what these moves should be?' Inquired the other man, 'have you received some divine inspiration from the Godess?'

  'I do, and it's simple... seize the opportunity. And I'd bet my house these thoughts have fluttered into your minds, even if just for a moment.'

  Yarrien crouched ever closer to the hole.

  'To admit to such a thing outside of the Oration Chamber would be nothing short of treasonous.' Said the woman gravely.

  'You're amongst friends here, Ianto. None of us are going to disclose this gathering in The Chamber tomorrow, so lets dispel that notion now. However, what I would ask is that, when I bring forth the table the proposal, it's met with positive vehemence from yourselves.'

  Yarrien almost yelped at the mention of a new name, but muzzled himself with his hand for fear that sound between the two rooms travelled in both directions. Ianto! The Head Councillor of the Triskellion meeting in the private apartments of another Head Councillor?! Yarrien would've guessed her identity sooner, as there were only two women in the Ring of Head Councillors, but he wouldn't have imagined for a second that such senior authorities would take such a risk. Could the baritone man be another Head Councillor?

  'You've not told us what we're to be vehemently approving.' Said the man.

  'I will be bringing forth a motion to construct a special sub-council, made up of individuals of my choosing, a sub-council with unique, and in some cases, unprecedented levels of sovereignty. The goal of this sub-council is to devise methods to not just fuel the conflict between Haemonine and Collosea, as has been the intent for several years now. No, it is becoming increasingly clear to those with a higher vision that, when the other realms are at their most vulnerable, we should also join this war.'