[maikafanawen]

They didn't linger long at the seamstress's house before the four of them made their way to the embassy. The streets were littered still with angry citizens, protesting against the brusqueness of the ambassador's laws. Even Gondorians cast a loathsome eye at the swinging parchment in the official's hands. Corsairs had been employed in their shops, smiths, and other businesses. Maybe commerce would be less hearty now that their employees were branded.

The black iron gates were swung open before the embassy and people streamed in and out. There were many Umbarian protestors and the officials were having a hell of a time trying to keep them from breaking further into the grounds and, Eru forbid, into the house itself. Devon and his friends wormed their way through to the Captain of the Guard and identified themselves. The black-garbed man then stepped aside for them to pass and had to move quickly into place again to stop a man from also squeezing by.

Once inside the embassy, however, their troubles didn't stop. A mediate had arrived and he was admonishing loudly the council's decision to publish the new laws. Politicians were everywhere debating fruitlessly with each other and Devon shook his head in disgust at their uselessness.

Finally, though, he made it to where his father was in the Great Hall. He burst in like a furious gust of wind and drew himself up importantly. Pulling a condescending look, he marched across the marble floor to stand before his father's mahogany desk.

"Devon," the ambassador said sharply. "What are you doing here? Go to your wing and stay there."

"Father," he said, ignoring the man's command. "There is a plot. A plot to overthrown the Gondorian government. The man leading it is Captain Jythralo Doran. I overheard him and Agdar talking in the alley that night father and you didn't believe me. I tell you again now that I have proof of Doran's scheme. He has set before you in a mask of devotion to Gondor and King Elessar but in his heart he is loyal only to the pirates. He has twice tried to be rid of me because he knows that I am aware of his plan--or vaguely aware. Father, I strongly suggest that you withdraw these ridiculous laws. I'm not sure what Doran is trying to do exactly, but I am sure that you are playing right into his hands." Devon stopped and held his breath as he bore into his father's eyes. They were unreadable and he waited to see the reaction. What at last the ambassador spoke, it was not what he expected.

"Devon, you couldn't possibly understand. You were not present at the Council Meeting last night--though I don't know why--and you did not here how passionately Doran spoke against the corsairs. Half of these laws were his idea. We have had to hire guards to protect him from the furies of the corsairs. There have been attempts on his life and many pirates want him eradicated. If Doran is, as you say, doing this as an act of loyalty to his people of late, then why would so many of his supposéd 'allies' be trying to murder him?" Devon stood and stared dumbfounded. Maurice returned his gaze coolly and leaned exhaustedly back in his chair. "My son, it is not wise to meddle in the ways of government unless you have all the facts. It'll will get you no where and give you the name of a fool." The ambassador's son was dumbstruck but Calnan had been paying attention and reached a sensible conclusion.

"Mr. Ambassador, if I may, I believe that the 'attacks' you are referring to against Doran by the pirates may be staged. It is logical." Calnan licked his lips and looked quickly from Devon to Ambassador Thrann. "He wants you and the rest of the councilmen to believe that he is completely honor-bound to Gondor. So he makes a passionate speech and he gives some prequisites for laws that are anti-corsair and to top it all off and really convince you, he stages some assassination attempts."

"It's too awful of a way to go about whatever you say he's trying to do. Some of his ideas for acts were so harsh that we even had to reject them." Calnan exhaled in frustration.

"He knew you'd do that. He knew that you couldn't and wouldn't pass too harsh of a law but he would throw them out there so that you'd see how 'loyal' he was being." Maurice shook his head.

"Your imaginations are too broad and this is not the time for you to put your storybook readings to use. This is very serious. We are facing a state crisis and it's going to take all we have to control it. I trust that I will hear no more of this nonsense about the disloyalties of Captain Doran!"

"Yes?" said a deep, almost soothing voice from the doorway. Everyone present turned to acknowledge the newcomer. It was Doran. The four friends' eyes narrowed and they exchanged angry looks with the corsair.

"Ah! Captain Doran," Maurice greeted standing. "I was just telling my son and his friends about how strongly you are participating in helping us get those pirates under control," he said gesturing outside to the crowded streets. Doran grunted a barely audible 'ah' and moved towards them.

"Well I do my best for my country," he said strongly. The way he carried himself absolutely sickened Devon. He walked with his shoulders bent forward slightly without the haughtiness so common in men of high-ranking, and he emitted a spurious feeling of humbleness. His acting was so good that the young man immediately doubted that he would ever convince his father of the pirate's true nature. The ambassador's son's own shoulders slumped in defeat and he looked helplessly at Calnan. The man returned his gaze and shrugged helplessly.

"Why don't you go find something for your friends and you to eat. And you should clean up as well. My boy didn't you shave this morning?" Devon's hand went to his cheeks and jaw and he felt the bristly stubble developed from his razor's absence. Before any of them could protest further, they were ushered out of the Great Hall and pointed in the directs of the kitchen. The doors were just closing when a lean, sallow-faced man dressed in northern, black leathers and shrouded with a shabby brown cloak strode down the corridors bound for the Great Hall. A guard was trailing after him shouting half-heartedly. Devon immediately understood the official's mild efforts. This advancing man was certainly not someone he'd care to cross with his set façade and the two menacing looking short-swords hanging from his belt. Devon quickly stepped aside and watched curiously as he approached the ambassador and Captain Doran....