The Water Tribe Banquet

— Young scoundrel! Smelly cod! the governor called out at the sight of the young nobleman, who discreetly took a seat to his right. "Even my son never had the honor of eating in this room in his lifetime, and you're making yourself wanted by showing up late?!" he continued.

YA Asane smiled; he knew this was how his uncle showed his affection. The more vulgar and filthy the insults, the more he loved you.

— I'm sorry, Uncle... One of the impundulus in the aviary brought back news from the north. The dahlia has wilted. he said gloomily.

The governor placed his hand on his large belly, sat up on his cushion and let out a burp of displeasure upon hearing what his nephew had just said, immediately absorbed by the ambient noise of the room.

—By the Eternals... he grumbled, rinsing his hands in the small bowl of lemon water one of the servants brought to his side.

Some sixty nobles, warlords, clan chieftains, and duly appointed officials were present, all seated side by side at ground-level tables laden with seafood, grilled fish, and garlic bread. In this large hall, reserved exclusively for the royal family, as was Órelota tradition, servants moved back and forth between the banquet halls, leaning over, pouring and refilling cups of water tribe wine and stout to their distinguished guests.

The richly decorated room belonged to the palace where the governor of Ansãsiwa , YA Sembã Ogun, sat. A lover of pomp and luxury, like any good Ogun who respected himself, he had ensured that each cushion on which the guests rested was upholstered with pure gold thread. As for the tables, they were cut from polished oak imported and carved from the black woods of the Lowlands. Carpets, brought from Al'Tep and sewn with the delicacy of the white elves, covered the floor, while the walls were adorned with war trophies, purchased for the most part from the Three Moons and the Kagapian humans. In addition, the tableware brought out for the occasion, made of marble, was adorned with gilded engravings, finely carved and melted into the veins of the stone with remarkable skill by the best craftsmen of the country.

Governor YA Sembã Ogun, although he knew how to entertain himself copiously, savor good wines and good food, having, like many before him, adopted polygamy by marrying no less than four wives, all from different clans of the Water Tribe, was also known to be one of the richest governors of the kingdom and, above all, like every man of his clan, he was fond of gold. This was evident even in his scepter, which he had carried by his servant posted behind him: a staff the size of a man, made of solid gold, adorned at the top with an imposing sculpture of a carp, the emblem of his clan's crest, whose handle bore the engraved heads of his illustrious ancestors.

He took a big gulp of his seaweed wine and continued.

—In that case, I have no choice. I have to ask you for the umpteenth time, my boy,  he said, approaching the young nobleman in a confidential tone.  I know you'll do what's necessary. It's a man like you we need! he declared, picking his teeth with the nail of his little finger, on which was screwed an enormous gold ring, flanked by a sapphire.

—But... Uncle... Allow me at least an orb, or two, to return my answer to you... But, I'm not sure that's what I really want, or even that I have the shoulders to... He said politely, while glancing out of the corner of his eye at the queen who was standing at the other end of the room.

—We're out of time to think, kid. We have to act quickly. It's precisely because you think you can't do it that I know you'll be able to handle this task. The others are nothing but incompetent ass-lickers. I know it, they know it, and you know it yourself. They only think about stuffing their bellies, fucking human bitches, and dipping into the treasury, all the while hoping I don't notice... It's rare, in these fast-moving moons, to find an honest man you can truly count on...
You are not of my blood, but you were raised with my values, the values ​​of the Ogun. We did not get where we are by force or the sword, but by diplomacy, trade, and cunning. You have all these qualities. And you will, I am certain, make the right decisions for the entire Water Tribe, by the time I leave for the North… he said, before slowly turning his gaze towards the queen, across the room, and frowning.

—At least... once this ridiculous farce is over, and she finally returns to her citadel....

After copiously finishing the cider-salted sole, the garlic-grilled squid, the guos, and the shrimp on his platter, and draining a good half-dozen glasses of seaweed wine to accompany it, the young nobleman felt the queen's insistent gaze bearing down on him. Her large, cold, piercing onyx eyes chilled his spine.

Sitting at the far end of the room, about thirty meters from where Ya Ãsane and her family were standing, she had been staring at him since he arrived at the banquet. He finally dared to meet her gaze, and it didn't waver. Perched on her imposing marble throne, carved with sculptures of mermaids and other sea creatures directly into the stone, she dominated the session. Surrounded by her four frozen wamūjis, upright as statues on either side of her seat, the queen remained there, silent, her dark gaze still fixed on him.

—The queen... she's still looking at me...he said feverishly to the men around him, pretending to raise his cup of wine to his lips. " Is it because I arrived after her?

—Without a doubt, my son...said one of the governor's wives, richly dressed in turquoise fabrics, from which hung an enormous twisted gold chain, sitting opposite him.  Arriving after the queen is... unwelcome. You should know that, shouldn't you?

As two other men turned as discreetly as a half-penny sailor could, the queen finally raised her right hand.
At the same time, in unison, the four wamūjis, at his side, struck the stone floor twice with their spears, which echoed throughout the room.

Silence was immediate.

Not a sound.

Everyone then turned to look at the queen. And seeming to revel in the moment she was granted, the queen held out a crystal goblet to one of the servants, signaling him to refill his glass immediately.

Despite her dark gaze, the queen had poise, and although she was several meters away from the young nobleman's table, he could feel the overwhelming imperial aura emanating from her.

With her back straight, her legs elegantly crossed over each other, like the great ladies, and her arms firmly placed on the edges of the throne, she wore a rich sleeveless dress of black fabric, sparkling under the brilliant ornaments and asymmetrical decorations that made up her garment. A long cape of fine fabric, filamented with argentium alkeb and enhanced at the collar with black impundulu feathers, fell down her back.

The Queen also took a portrait for the occasion, as tradition required for women of the southern water tribe, a crown made of cowrie shells that rested on her braided braids, some of which were also adorned with shells and gold buckles.

On her right hand, the queen also wore a large argentium alkeb ring set with an enormous emerald. A strange assemblage of gold rings connected to each other by a large gold bracelet was attached to her wrist, on which a few diamonds and sapphires enhanced the whole.

After a moment of contemplative silence, the queen slowly raised her crystal goblet.

— Where others drown, she declared in a clear and solemn voice.

At once, the entire hall echoed in unison, their cups lifted to the height of their brows:

— We breathe !

Then, after swallowing a large gulp of seaweed wine, the queen extended a finger toward the crowd, seemingly pointing at random to an Alkeb seated behind a young noble. The latter turned to see the man the queen had indicated, who slowly rose when the royal command reached him: approach the throne.

The man obeyed.

A low-ranking noble, thought Ya Âsane as he finally caught sight of the man’s face, which stirred no memory. Judging by the eight large blue pearls and five small white ones swaying around his neck with each step, the man must have been around eight hundred and fifty cycles old, he mused, watching the Alkeb walk, head bowed, toward the throne.

When he appeared before the queen, she stared at him from the height of his stature. Looking down at him from the height of her strapontin, while the man bowed his head in respect.

—Nãara. She said in a cold voice. What is your name?

—Nãara, my queen. My name is YA Alasar, of the Mbãe clan, of the Southern Water tribe . He said in a honeyed tone.

—Hmm... A Moss ? the queen asked, an eyebrow raised at YA Alasar 's accent .

Although this familiar, even vulgar, expression used by a queen to describe the inhabitants of the island of Mossiwa, wrongly reputed to be relatively basic in intelligence, located north of Ansãsiwa, did not enchant him, he nodded and bowed again, politely.

—However, my queen, I am a native of the mainland shore of Jengus Bay, he said emphatically.  It has been a long time since a Mamake queen has stayed so long in one of our humble southern cities. You honor us with your presence here." At these words, he bowed once more in a theatrical reverence.

The queen smiled.

—Really? An honor? I'm flattered, venerable Alkeb... But you should choose your words more carefully. If you can even grasp the nuances.

—My queen?  asked the alkeb, who did not immediately understand the meaning of the queen's words.

— So... YA Alasar from the Mbãe clan, is that right?

— Yes, my queen.

— If I am beautiful and truly your beloved queen, as you have just claimed, and I am welcome here in this city, kneel down and kiss my feet, she said, extending her foot towards the man, who frowned in astonishment.

In the room, quiet murmurs rose. Eyes met, wary.

— Excuse me, my queen,  the man began, staring at the foot stretched out in front of him.  But... I'm not sure I understood correctly. He swallowed loudly.

— Perhaps I should translate it into Moss for you? the queen replied mockingly. She licked her lips and gave a sneer of contempt.

The man, a half-elf who must have been nearly thirty times the queen's age, suddenly seemed tiny, almost insignificant before her.

—On your knees, and kiss my feet . She repeated, staring straight into the eyes of the alkeb who was five steps below.

From where he stood, YA Alasar could see a slight twitch of excited excitement making the queen's right eye twitch. A shiver ran down his spine.

— M... My... My queen, he stammered, with all due respect, we are here in Ansãsiwa, land of the Water Tribe, and... This kind of... This kind of demonstration has not been appropriate for cycles... I... Well, I...

But the queen interrupted him, still as curt as ever, without even giving him a glance. Raising her head, she addressed the crowd in front of her, as if the half-elf at the foot of her throne no longer existed.

— I am your queen, YA Alasar of the Mbãe clan of the Southern Water Tribe. Wife of RË Kosende, of the Mamake royal clan. A king you must honor and obey. And I, ZA Dãna of the Mamake royal clan, YĀME By the king's will, I speak in his name when he cannot be present. To disobey me is to disobey the king. To disobey the king… is an act of treason. And every act of treason, according to the custom of the Water Tribe, is punishable by death.

She looked down at the alkeb again, below his throne.

—I'm telling you for the last time, YA Alasar Mbãe. Come here, on your knees, and kiss my feet.

But the alkebs of the Water Tribe, especially those in the south, were proud people with fiery tempers. Mostly sailors, sometimes pirates, often whalers, they were not inclined to demean themselves easily, especially not in public... and even less so in front of a woman. Queen or not.
For among the Southerners, even more so than among their northern counterparts, traditions remained rigid, and mentalities fiercely conservative. And the queen knew it.

She enjoyed it.

YA Alasar stood straight, raised his chin defiantly, and replied simply:

— No, I will not, my queen.

Behind him, the men and women in the room held their breath. This was the first time since the new king's ascension that the queen had dared to venture into Órelota, alone at that, despite the lingering tribal tensions.
Yet the reputation of ZA Dãna, mockingly nicknamed the Supreme Queen, within the kingdom, as well as her hasty and unannounced arrival a week earlier, were far from reassuring. Everyone knew it, the entire city knew it. The rumors didn't lie. And she had, at that precise moment, proven them right.

She finished her glass of wine in one gulp, then looked down at the man still standing in front of her.

— So be it... she said simply while sighing.

With a quick glance, one of the wamūji at his side stepped forward. In a split second, without anyone understanding what was happening, the guard crept up behind YA Alasar, pulled a dagger from his belt, and slit his throat with a sharp gesture, with such violence that his head was almost entirely detached from his body.

A spray of blood spattered the steps leading to the throne, as the queen gave a soft squeak of excitement at the sight.

The body collapsed like a stringless puppet, the head attached only by a thin piece of skin, spilling a pool of blood that quickly spread across the floor and carpets.

— By the Eternals!!  screamed an elf who was unfortunately in the front row of the scene, before vanishing a moment later.

A shudder of horror ran through the room. The guests rose hastily, screaming, shouting, some terrified, others in tears. Goblets and carafes of wine fell one by one, tables were trampled in the general chaos, as everyone rushed towards the great door to escape.

But the doors remained closed. Two wamūjis, spear in hand, robust and threatening, kept the frightened crowd in check.

Meanwhile, the wamūji having had his throat cut, or even beheaded, YA Alasar calmly returned to his place at the queen's right, as if nothing had happened.

After a moment that seemed like an eternity, the queen screamed:

— BE SILENT!

Immediately, the four wamūjis at his side struck two sharp blows with their spears against the stone floor. The sound cracked, echoing throughout the room like a warning. Their menacing gaze glowed with an electric blue, a clear sign that they were dangling their endokã at that moment.
The wamujis were responsible for the absolute protection of the royal clan, and for this, the shamans forged spears and sabers for them from argentium alkeb, a rare and powerful metal.
Normally, facing sixty people against six, the numbers would have been sufficient. But against these elite soldiers...
To attempt anything against them was to sign one's death warrant, pure and simple.

— Return to your seats immediately! Our banquet, venerable alkebs, has not yet reached its end... continued the queen in a tone that was probably not at all friendly.

Noisy, sharp protests erupted. Threats, insults, and angry rumbles rose from all sides of the room. But the queen, impassive, scanned the crowd. Her gaze lingered on each one, forcing them to lower their eyes and return to their cushions, one by one, as if crushed under an invisible weight.

The silence that followed was oppressive.

No one dared look toward the body of YA Alasar, which still lay at the foot of the throne. The pool of blood had reached the feet of the first row. And in this frozen terror, the queen raised her finger once more, sweeping the room like a priestess pointing to a sacrifice.

—Hmm... You over there, she said, pointing at an old elf two rows away from her. Stand up and come closer.

He was a seasoned Moon elf. He, too, wore the traditional beaded necklaces of the Water Tribe: one string of purple beads, two beige ones, and four white ones hung around his neck. He had lived through 1,240 cycles…

Two servants hurried to free YA Alasar's bloodied corpse, pulling it to the left to clear the way. The elf approached, straight and dignified.

— Your name? asked the queen without transition.

— YA Dibó, from the Mpenze clan, he replied coldly. His closed face betrayed a deep disgust, which he made no attempt to hide from the sight of the queen's face.

The queen had changed.

His already severe features, but with a beauty that belied youth, had sagged. Wrinkled. Aged. Purple, greenish, and vermilion veins ran along his right arm, the one that wore the emerald ring. The stone shone with an almost supernatural, fluorescent glow. The veins rose, wrapped around his arm, snaked down to his neck, and seemed to infect his right eye.

It was no longer an onyx eye.

It was a pale, veiled globe, eaten away by an unhealthy light. Blind. Dead.

—The sight of blood had certainly revealed the queen's true nature without meaning to... The young nobleman at the other end of the table thought to himself, shivering with terror.

YA Sembã, for his part, remained silent, a spectator of his powerlessness in his own house. For, governor though he was, he owed obedience to the YĀME, the king's wife, the second supreme queen in the history of the kingdom. A queen, dark and terrible, as the rumors against her so aptly stated.
For a brief moment, the man doubted his own convictions. Perhaps, he thought, a strong queen would do his kingdom good after all, and the king had a formidable weapon at hand, which he also had in his bed. At least, when she wasn't looking so repulsive...

A smile slowly crept across his cracked lips, as if every movement of his face wrenched unbearable pain from him. And the more one observed him, the more one could distinguish the deep crevices that streaked the skin on the right side of his face. Hollows that seemed to house the very shadow of suffering.

His left eye, still lively, continued to stare at YA Dibó. But his right eye, white, glassy, ​​blind... was staring at something else entirely.

A cat.

A cat with long, silky fur, appearing from nowhere, without the slightest embarrassment, was lapping up the still warm blood of the corpse.

— Well, YA Dibó, she finally said. Kneel down and kiss my feet...
And, just as she had done a few minutes before, she extended her foot toward the man, who stood five steps below his throne.

The alkeb did not move.

Stubborn, tenacious, as straight as a ship's prow, he stared at the queen without the slightest trace of submission. He had fought pirates in the Wal'Majil Sea, held the lines against the human settlers who came from the Far East and the Far West, supported the sanans of the North during the Mamake rebellion of the Howling Islands . He had seen two kings die, seen more than a dozen YĀME pass by, and buried more soldiers and sailors than he cared to remember.

—You don't deserve this crown, witch. You are not a queen... you are not my queen. You are an abomination. An unholy one. A demonic whore who sleeps with the Maxetanis! A A whore of low birth, hiding behind the glory of her venerable sister and her new name. Without the Mamake, you are nothing. Without your sister, you would never have been queen.

The room froze.

Every word, every insult, echoed like a slap in the silence. Faces turned, wide-eyed, petrified by audacity.

But the queen didn't move... and kept her little smirk.

She listened silently and motionlessly. As her face gradually regained its more natural, smoother features, and her veins disappeared without leaving any trace or visible scar, the cat, too, had vanished, as briefly as it had appeared.
But his eyes were still those of evil. Black, devoid of all warmth and kindness.

When the old elf had finished insulting her and telling her what everyone had on their minds but dared not say to her, panting with rage, she slowly straightened up, looked away from him for a moment, and looked into the hall.

— I am your queen, YA Dibó of the lesser Mpenze clan, she said, emphasizing this demeaning fact. Wife of RË Kosende of the Mamake royal clan. A king you must honor and serve. I, ZA Dãna of the Mamake royal clan, YĀME by his will, am his voice where he cannot be. To disobey me is to disobey your king. And to disobey the king… is an act of treason. And treason is punishable by death…

She finally rested her eyes on him.

— So tell me, YA Dibó of the lesser Mpenze clan, do you persist in refusing to honor me?

YA Dibó approached and spat on one of the steps in front of her.

—Keishee! I will never stoop to kissing your feet, royal whore! May the Eternals forbid! he roared. Never will we southern alkebs bow down to a woman who consorts with the treacherous… and the dead! And I deplore that our brothers of the Three Moons have rallied to you… to you and your bastard king!

— So be it… the queen replied calmly.

She slowly slid her foot into her sandal, then gave a small, almost imperceptible nod to the same wa mūji than before.

And while YA As Dibo continued to curse, to yell, to try to galvanize the crowd into moss, the wamūji moved briskly. He grabbed the man's chin, forced his head up, and, without the slightest hesitation, slit his throat and shoved him violently to the ground.

Blood spurted out, splashing the steps of the throne, the queen's feet, the robe of a nearby alkeb. The elf collapsed with a wet gasp, his eyes open in horror, his mouth twisted by the final insult he hadn't had time to utter.

As the crowd fell silent in terror, and the wamuji took his place at the queen's side, the queen wasted no time in once again scanning the room for her next victim.

The young nobleman felt all the weight of his body evaporate. His stomach knotted and a wave of heat rose to his head as he saw with horror that, from across the hall, the queen was staring at him.

Without saying a word. For long, interminable seconds, reveling in the feeling of terror she spread through the atmosphere.
With a gesture of her finger, she named him and ordered him to approach her.

— Son, you do what she tells you to do! YA Olafin whispered to him, grabbing his arm.  I forbid you from acting like a fool...

—SILENCE ! thundered the queen from the other end of the room, soon followed by the two blows of her six wamuji's lances on the floor.

Once he arrived before the queen, the young nobleman felt the acid rise in his throat.
Just to his right, the dying elf was choking on an excruciating gurgle, blood bubbling from his open throat. He was panting, poorly, weakly, like a fish torn from its ocean. His fingers clawed at the ground, futile, pathetic.
The scene. The smell. The noises… everything was unbearable.

— Na.. Nã...Nãara, my queen, said the young man in a wavering voice, his head bowed.
His legs wobbly with fear, and it took all his willpower not to soil himself. Yet, despite the horror surrounding him, one thing gripped his heart. From this distance… the queen, was even more magnificent.

—Nãara... What is your name? asked the queen, without even looking at him, as she poured herself a new cup of wine.
A silent servant presented her with a plate of pink shrimp, which she began with theatrical delicacy.

—I am YA Ãsane of the Mamak e clan , my queen,  he replied, his voice still trembling. He tried desperately to ignore the wet rattle that persisted nearby, the last breath of a man dying before his eyes.

The queen paused for a moment in her meal, regarded him with a strange calm. She took a sip of wine with her mouthful of shrimp, then spoke again.

—A Mamake?  she repeated, raising an eyebrow. From the Howling Islands, I presume… That explains your familiar look.
His tone turned almost mocking. What are you doing here, so far from home?

The young nobleman cleared his throat and tried to keep his posture straight before continuing.

—At the end of the Howling Isles pirate rebellion, children under six cycles of the Mamake clan were sent south to repay their parents' debts... and that, as a tribe, my queen. I grew up here since my first Moons, with one of my cousins. YA Umaru Mamake, who, after proving himself working as a boatman at the port of Jengus Bay, is currently training at Purple Point in the storytelling arts with a djēle. We were both raised by the same adoptive father, we were treated with the utmost respect by the Ogun, and we spent most of our youth at sea. And... to be frank, as far as I'm concerned, I love this country as much as I love the Órelotarian customs.

—I see... she murmured, setting down her wine cup. So I take it you're extremely loyal to the Ogun clan... aren't you?

She then looked up to the back of the room and, in order to clearly perceive the faces at the back of the room, shimmered her endokã. Her onyx eyes immediately took on an electric bluish color. There, sitting among the frozen nobles, she could clearly see YA Sembã tensed, his gaze anxious. He immediately understood that this sentence, delivered gently, was a trap for the invisible blade that the queen was setting for him.

YA Asane nodded slowly. Too slowly... Too late... he felt the trap closing in on him.

The queen's gaze had fallen upon him again, her irises, still tinged with that electric blue, now glaring at him. She carefully observed the boy's every move. The queen's shimmer also made the filaments of his argentium alkeb clothing glow, sparkling with that same vivid color.
A pure and noble blue, contrasting with his arrogant appearance and cruel, domineering posture. A smile of satisfaction spread across his face.

—And... since you come from a distant branch of the king, tell me, YA Ãsane... to whom do you owe allegiance?

She let the silence thicken before continuing.

—To the Ogun clan, which… she indicated with a simple nod to the two corpses at the foot of the throne, seems to surround itself with traitors and felons… Or to the royal clan? To your blood. To your king.

— would never disobey the commands of the Mamake royal clan, my queen, he said, dropping to one knee.

The queen, who had once again begun to pick at the seafood platter her servant had presented to her, turned to Ya Asane. With a lazy gesture, she removed her foot from her ornate sandal and held it out toward the boy.

— In that case, prove it to us immediately, YA Asane Mamake .

Without even taking the time to think, he climbed the five steps that separated him from the throne, fell to his knees as if struck by lightning, then... delicately... took his queen's foot in his hands and placed a first kiss on the hollow of her instep.

Satisfied, the queen let out a contented sigh and bit the tip of her lip. Her eyes changed color, alternately oscillating between blue and black, as the young nobleman continued to honor her foot with his mouth. A smile then formed on the hollow of her lips. Not one of cruelty this time. No, but a more insidious smile. One of victorious pleasure. YA Ãsane, who at that moment briefly allowed herself to look up at her queen, didn't miss a single thing.

And as the young nobleman, submissive, began to kiss her feet for a longer time, brushing his lips against her skin, even sliding his tongue in with animal obedience, the queen addressed the assembly frozen in silence and fear.

—It has reached me...  she said in a softer, almost compassionate voice, "that there are traitors here among you. They will recognize themselves, " she said, staring at the governor of Ansãsiwa for a long time, who felt his stomach tighten. A few men from the assembly here and there discreetly exchanged meaningful glances.

—Since I arrived in this palace… I have observed each of you. I have listened to you talking behind my back. You, venerable alkebs, some of whom would dream of seeing their king's head as well as mine on the end of a pike…

She paused, savoring the effect of his words... or... Of the young man's hot, wet tongue kissing her feet.

— Know this well, brothers and sisters. I did not come here to conquer you, nor to destroy your cities, nor to deceive you. The real enemy is to the north, not to the south. I, ZA Dãna of the royal Mamake clan, the YĀME of the kingdom, legitimate wife of your king, am not your enemy, and the Obsidian Citadel of the Three Moons will remain forever open to you, as long as your loyalty remains unwavering to your rightful king.
Although Ansãsiwa is, and I regret it, part of Órelota, we are part of one and the same tribe: the Southern Water Tribe. Please remember this the next time you plot against your king.
From this orb, I consider you all, venerable alkebs, as allies of the Mamake clan, the legitimate royal clan of the kingdom.

She looked down again at YA Ãsane, still on all fours, tongue between her toes, humiliated in a heavy silence.

—So I dare to hope that I am not mistaken about our new understanding… she continued, her voice laden with a barely veiled threat.
It would be a great pity if I had to return here not as an ally, but as a declared enemy to punish a city so magnificently built as yours, given over to hypocrisy and perjury... Don't forget... I see everything.

At this, she slowly removed her foot from Ya Asane's mouth and put his shoes back on. The queen and the boy exchanged a glance. She smiled at him, then, with a simple nod of her head, indicated that he should return to his seat. The young nobleman then straightened up, made a low but hasty bow, and then returned to his seat.

—Now that the introductions have been made… she continued, rising from her throne, I wish you all good luck. It is time for me to leave you, venerable alkebs.

Without another word, she got down from her strapontin. Her four wamujis slammed their spears against the ground twice more and then surrounded him, forming a silent procession.
The alkebs in the room held their breath as she descended the steps, straight and regal, crossing the room without a single glance at anyone.

Arriving at the large wooden door at the other end of the room, two other wamūjis opened the two large wooden doors. ZA Dãna Mamake, crossed the threshold, and disappeared into the shadows.

As the heavy doors closed behind her, a shudder ran through the room.
Then, slowly, the tension eased. The first sighs escaped.
And the murmurs, at first timid, rose into a rumour of indignation, fear... and contained anger.