"It's just that Stranor's let this blasted local king, Kurchuk, get
out of control. If I--" He stopped short, catching sight of the
shoulder holster under Stranor Sleth's left arm. "Were you wearing
that needler up in the temple?" he demanded.
"You're blasted right I was!" Stranor Sleth retorted. "And any time I
can't arm myself for my own protection on this time-line, you can have
my resignation. I'm not getting into the same jam as those people at
Zurb."
"Well, never mind about that," Verkan Vall intervened. "Of course
Stranor Sleth has a right to arm himself; I wouldn't think of being
caught without a weapon on this time-line, myself. Now, Stranor,
suppose you tell me what's been happening, here, from the beginning of
this trouble."
"It started, really, about five years ago, when Kurchuk, the King of
Zurb, married this Chuldun princess, Darith, from the country over
beyond the Black Sea, and made her his queen, over the heads of about
a dozen daughters of the local nobility, whom he'd married previously.
Then he brought in this Chuldun scribe, Labdurg, and made him Overseer
of the Kingdom--roughly, prime minister. There was a lot of
dissatisfaction about that, and for a while it looked as though he was
going to have a revolution on his hands, but he brought in about five
thousand Chuldun mercenaries, all archers--these Hulguns can't shoot a
bow worth beans--so the dissatisfaction died down, and so did most of
the leaders of the disaffected group.
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