CHAPTER 23

As always, the language that speaks on the stone wall was the language the dead spoke. At least five torches were hanging in circles on the rough wall. It was a simple room and could have been empty but for the stone chairs.

Men in blue gowns sat in silence with their thoughts, watching and observing. Each had the customary chalk and hid their identities beneath a mask.

Hawk could not place a name on any of the men. Name was forbidden. The only name that was allowed was the name of the stone, a name given to each individual according to the animal mask they wore.

"You are late," Someone said. He had the mask of a bull, which matched the heaviness in his muscles. He was also tall, perhaps the tallest in their midst, and like the rest, he wore a blue vest, twice the size of an average man, but too small for his protruding muscles.

Hawk ignored the man at first as he walked towards his seat. Bull, as he was called, was the right hand of the King, perhaps, the most trusted individual w