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Chapter 10
The Council of Slepak Part 4

Beata Maria – you know I am a righteous man
Of my virtue I am justly proud
Beata Maria, you know I'm so much purer than
The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd
Then tell me, Maria, why I see her dancing there
Why her smoldering eyes still scorch my soul
I feel her – I see her – the suncourt in her raven hair
Is blazing in me out of all control

Like fire – Hellfire – this fire in my skin…
This burning…desire…is turning me…to…sin…

It's not my fault!
I'm not to blame!
It is the gypsy girl, the witch, who set this flame!

It's not my fault
If in God's plan
He made the devil so much stronger than the man!

Protect me, Maria – don't let this siren cast her spell
Don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone
Destroy Esmeralda! And let her taste the fire's of Hell!
Or else let her be mine and mine alone…
-Disney

Laura and Chelsea talked briefly with Mr. Slepak and Handal. Soon, the two turned around and tried to regain the attention of the band. Shouts were being thrown across the room and others were horsing around.

"Hey, could I get a change of pants here?" Strider shouted from the front row. "I think I've got girl pants." Mrs. Durham gave him a look. "Hey, it's one leg or the other, if you know what I mean."

The sound started to recede. The sun marked midday of the Third Day of Council. "Nick," Mr. Slepak started, motioning towards the Clarinet, "if you would, may you recite your portion of the valve's history?"

Nick stood. "Is there a chance we may get some rest soon?" he asked.

"There shall be," Handal told him. "But this is of much urgency and the sparse rests are necessary. Tell us your part, and, if you haven't crafted it in verse quite yet, speak it plainly. But with haste!"

Nick gave the wizard a nod of acknowledgement. "I do say, to those who have heard this tale already and in different form, forgive me – shit happens."

Nick then told his whole tale, as it had happened. Not even the riddles and curses that he and Bullom had exchanged were left unmentioned. When it was told that the valve ring had passed to Marisa, Nick was relieved of speech and Marisa told to continue.

Less willingly and bravely than Nick, Marisa told of her time with the valve. While Nick had the luck of no interruptions, Marisa's story was questioned and examined at every moment. When at last she had finished, she sat down tiredly.

Handal rose then. "As we see, we have our story. And there is reason to think this is the One Valve. If not, what is it? The Nine the Hagsnard keep. The Seven are reclaimed by Rowell or destroyed. And the Three are kept safely here. Clearly this cannot be a piece of one of those instruments, if something like those could break. It makes only sense for this to be the One.

"There has been much time from the Loss and the Finding, assuredly. But the gap of knowledge has been filled, though a bit too late. It seems that Rowell closely followed as well. Some may remember that I had passed into the tower of what we once thought a nameless spell caster in Soilwood; there, I studied his doings and his work, and we learned that it was yet still Rowell, trying to regain the power he had lost. So the Council of Wizards drove him out. But Rowell had his eye on us the whole while and had prepared; he had kept watch of Miseri through Mithnel Misernay, where the Nine dwelt, and when we attacked he had feigned his defeat. He fled to the Dark Tower and began an open search for the One. We feared that he may know something we did not, but Rowumell the Wise told us to rest our fears."

Handal sighed. "I should not have listened. I went to watching and monitoring all things I thought needed oversight, telling no one of what I observed. And for many years, fear didn't stir within me; but at length it did, so I told of all I knew to Mark Brask, the heir of Gildor Engeloth."

"And I," said Strider, "told Handal that we ought to teach the worm a lesson, so we set off in search of Bullom."

And the two told of their search which brought them to the skirts of Miseri. "We searched long to see if he clung to those places," Handal told them, "yet we found nothing. And then I thought of another way of detection for the ring. Words of Rowumell came back to me, long ago spoken: the Nine, the Seven, and the Three are all instruments. Easily you can tell they are not a valve ring. Yet the One is to have marks set by its maker upon its surface.

"So I went to Goldir to look at their scrolls, in hope I may uncover something – anything – lost. And I found much. Many tongues that have fallen of use and of knowledge. And Barimir, in Mithnel Goldrenad I found – unread, probably, by any except Rowumell and myself since the kings fell – a scroll by Gildor himself. After Miseri, he did not simply leave immediately, as some have said."

"In the North, perhaps," Barimir responded. "All of Goldir knows he went first to Mithnel Armsel and stayed with his nephew, teaching him, before making him ruler of the South Kingdom."

"And during that time he made a scroll," Handal told him. "He wrote:

The Great Valve shall be an heirloom of the North Kingdom; but records of it shall be left in Goldir, where the heirs of Enders dwell, in case the world should ever forget what has taken place.

Gildor then spoke of the Valve Ring.

It was hot at first, glowing white, but it soon cooled, faster than is possible for any metal known to Clarinet or otherwise. Its glow fades and so does its writing, which was, just moments before, blazing from the silver metal. It is a Fluten tongue, but the pronouncement must be one of the Miseri dialects. I know that language to be harsh on the mouth, though I know it not; I can not read the writing. Were the Valve to be heated again, like the hand of Rowell, it may yield the speech brightly again. As it is, I shall not try it but inscribe it here, so that it may not be forgotten. I do not wish to hurt this; I am fond of it.

Gildor was correct: while in Fluten tongue, its pronunciation was of a Miserian dialect; that is the only logical conclusion, considering it was Rowell which crafted this. At once I left, but message came to me that Mark had found Bullom and so I went to see him."

"There isn't much to tell," Strider announced. "That little whore gave me attitude so I pimp slapped him back into line." To the few that knew Strider, there was laughter (particularly from Nick); everyone else was appalled. Unfazed, Strider continued, "When I found him, he was already heading away from Miseri. By luck, I found and caught him. He put up a fight, naturally, and would calm down the entire journey. I finally dropped his ass in Soilwood, as was agreed with the Flutes there. I was glad he was gone – he stank," Strider exclaimed, sighing heavily and waving his hand back and forth.

"I questioned him from there. I learned all that confirmed my previous guesses about Nick and the ring. I also learned that Bullom had lived far beyond his proper lifespan; the Valve had granted him many years, as is fitting for the One Valve.

"This aside, I performed another test – I set the valve in a fire and upon its surface formed Fluten writing. It is the same words which the Smiths of Eyernpo heard and knew that they had been betrayed:

One Valve to rule them all, One Valve to find them, One Valve to bring them all and in the music bind them.

Remember also that I got much from my conversations with Bullom and found he had descended into Miseri. The Dark Lord gained much from Bullom's visit, including the knowledge of the Valve. And now he knows it still exists, and, further, that we have it here. Thankfully, he is still locked away."

At this point, there was a cough from a male Flute in the third circle from the center of the room. Handal looked towards him as he stood. He was dressed in grey and black clothing, with hair which came down to cover half of his face. There was not the mirth that was usual to the face of Flutes. "I come to bring unfortunate news; Bullom, I'm afraid has escaped.

"Trust, we watched him carefully. But we were told by Handal there was hope yet for the creature so we kept him above, out of our dungeons for fear that he would fall into old thoughts if left there."

A grunt was heard from Därmel. "You were less tender to me," he stated evenly, a gleam in his eye which conveyed his memories of those dungeons.

"Please!" Handal interrupted. "Not now, my good Därmel. That was a mistake, long since set right. If all qualms between Brass and Woodwinds were brought before this Council, our death would find us before we ever gave a fight.

"This is terrible news though. We must break now and adjourn later. Perhaps a meal would suit everyone's mood."

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As soon as the plate appeared hands dashed for whatever piece of meat they could grab. They sound of greedy mouths sinking into greasy flesh rose hungrily. Of the rare vegetarians present, they attacked their food just as greedily.

There was no talk for a while as food was consumed. After some time, a Saxophone raised his head. He noticed Melissa, Laura, and Chelsea off a bit, talking again to Mr. Slepak and Handal.

The Saxophone pointed toward Melissa. "The tall Trumpet over there. She's rather attractive, wouldn't you say?"

Mike Connors looked up and shrugged. Jonathan did as well. "Indifferent," he said quickly and returned to his plate. Another Clarinet who happened to have sat with them just sat there for a moment, confusion on her face. "Why are you asking me?" Laila asked.

The Saxophone laughed. "Forgive me – Laila isn't it? It was directed at those two."

A Euphonium took a swig of his drink as he said, "She's alright. What of the Clarinet?"

The two looked at Jonathan and Mike expectantly. They looked up and laughed, Jonathan repeating, "Indifferent."

The Saxophone sighed. "Okay, I can't possibly believe you take no interest in a girl's attractiveness whatsoever," he told Jonathan.

He glanced up and asked, "Why? What's so exciting about it?"

The Euphonium coughed and added, "Well, I can think of one thing." This drew a laugh from everyone.

Jonathan dipped his hands in the bowl of water by him and wiped his hands on his shirts. "Trust me, my friend, I have at least twice the sexuality of you. But what either of those girls look like isn't going to tell me anything of them. Well, that the one is fairer makes it clear she's a Clarinet, but that's to be expected," he added with half a smile.

The group laughed as Laila rolled her eyes, looking briefly around to see if there was elsewhere to go. There wasn't.

"So you take no interest?" the Euphonium asked.

Jonathan grabbed another chicken and shrugged. "Not particularly. There's a score of things about them which you could never know from just looking at them and are ten times more important. That's how it is with any person. I can't imagine any person who'd want to know that whoever they're with took interest in them because they liked their ass."

"Hmm," the Euphonium murmured, which drew more laughs.

The Saxophone grabbed more meat and turned to Jonathan. "Okay, so the last one – we could agree she's very attractive, right? You are telling me that that weighs no point on your conscience? Are you saying that this would not fit into any form of evaluation of her?"

Jonathan barely glanced up. "She's a Flute," he answered simply.

The Euphonium laughed. "I'm Brass. I heard that Clarinets don't take too kindly to us either."

"You're tolerable. There aren't nearly as many Brass like you," Jonathan told him. "Besides, our big complaint is with the Trumpets."

"Back to subject," the Saxophone interrupted. "The Flute – she sparks no interest?"

Jonathan sighed and placed down his food. "Even if she were not a Flute, her beauty weighs no account on my conscience – yes. I could really care less. My only interest would lie in who she is as a person. That being said, I'd never take any form of interest in a Flute to begin with. Were one's honor attacked, I would defend, but beyond that I take no pleasure in associating with them, except for the next time a Clarinet bests one's worth in any form of competition. I've lost all sanity the day I enter a relationship with one. Clear?"

Despite the harshness of his message, a tad form of mirth laid on his face, conveying he wasn't angry at his eating companion.

Suddenly, Jonathan felt something hitting against his back. He looked back to see Andrew making humping motions. "Well, you certainly know how to treat the messenger!" he exclaimed, laughing.

"Oh, I aim to please," Andrew told him, cracking up himself. But before Jonathan could respond, he felt himself pelted with water.

He turned around quickly to see Michelle standing there, holding a bowl for hand water and laughing uncontrollably. He groaned and said to the Saxophone, "See why I hate Flutes?"

"What?" Michelle giggled still more. "You were dirty, don't know how to eat properly, and smell. I was simply giving you a bath."

Jonathan got up and turned to Michelle. "Did I ask you for a bath?" he asked her.

"Oh, you expect a Clarinet to know when he needs to shower?" she asked, nearly falling over. "He barely knows when he ought to talk and when not!"

Jonathan groaned and pelted after Michelle as she took off to escape him. Since she was smaller, she quickly got away as she ran. Jonathan sighed and stalked back.

He sat down, wiping water from his hair. He then noticed a rather large bulge in Andrew's pants. "Andrew, what do you have there?"

Andrew looked down. "Huh? Oh, that!" He reached in and pulled out a fairly large egg. "I found this outside somewhere. So I thought I'd keep it warm and see what hatched."

Jonathan looked towards Mike and asked, "Is it a Sax thing?"

Mike laughed and said, "Don't ask me."