(Chronicler's note: "It is truly amazing how the will of Thara becomes clear to us as we look backwards in time. So many elements of the struggle to come became quickly aligned with either one side of the conflict or the other. Even Halidu traditions stretched a bit to accommodate some of the new ideas that would have to be accepted in order to have a chance at survival." HISTORY OF THAELIA, Vol. VIII.)

Harryhl moved around the circular table to the heavier and ornately carved chair that marked his place at the head, and the other clan chieftains hushed their chatter to give him their attention. Both Banl and Byrol gave him encouraging smiles, and Harryhl know that he could count on their support during the next few minutes. After all, it was their plan he was carrying out, although he was doing so more reluctantly than they would have liked. He cleared his throat nervously.

"My Lords, the thaw is upon us. The time for action has arrived; and we are ready to make decisions. First of all, I would like to hear from each of you on your progress of re-arming your men. Forl, you begin." He seated himself and prepared to listen.

"As you can imagine," Forl began, "the work goes slowly at my hyl. We had not many metal plows to work with, since we are mostly chiva-breeders. We have made perhaps a core of swords, but we are taking the time to make the wooden plows to replace them at the same time. As far a bridges are concerned, we have destroyed only those which lead to the lowlands directly and left intact the ones that connect Onekhs'hyl with the other hyls."

Harryhl nodded as Forl sat back, finished. "Krom?"

"My Lords, we are luckier than Lord Forl, it seems, for we had an abundance of wooden plows in the barns alongside the metal ones. The wooden ones are old, but certainly serviceable. As a result, my clansmen are armed with short swords almost to a man. We have also done as Lord Forl has in regards to bridges." He leaned back in his chair, satisfied with his clan's efforts.

"Good, Krom, very good!" Harryhl nodded. "Lord Sharhl?"

The old Lord snorted. "Like Lord Forl, we had no wooden plows stored for replacement, not that we had many metal ones either for that matter. What's more, the storms set in early in the North, making gathering what little wood we might find an impossibility. So as far as swords go, we have none. All the bridges leading to the lowlands save one are destroyed, however; and I left word for my men to destroy it as soon as they can get to it. What's more, my weapons-maker died during the last set of storms; so I will need another before long."

Harryhl shook his head, half-disgusted. Lord Sharhl rarely put much effort into any endeavor; his clan was generally considered the laziest and least dependable of them all. The Saranth had been late in uniting with the other Halidu clans, mostly due to prejudice on the part of both the isolated northern Saranth clansmen and the more gregarious Southern Six Clans. Sharhl's report was hardly unexpected. Harryhl stifled a chiding remark and chose to move on to the next man. "Lord Banl?"

"My clansmen are armed, my Lord," Banl announced proudly. "All bridges to the lowland directly are gone as well."

"Very good, Lord Banl," Harryhl commented with a smile. "It is good to have a responsible man as leader of the Koran Clan again; you were well-chosen as new Lord. Lord Byrol, you're next."

Byrol smiled a proudly as Banl. "My men are also rearmed, Lord Harryhl; and bridges to the lowlands are gone."

"Well, my Lords," Harryhl reported in his turn soberly, I must report that only a score of my clansmen remain with out swords, and all of the bridges in question are destroyed. Considering the severity of the past winter, I would venture to say that we all have done well. Only two of us still need large quantities of arms, and only one bridge remains standing. In order that we all be armed as soon as possible, I suggest that Lord Byrol and Banl continue making swords until they have used the last of their reserved metal. I, for my part, will start making new wooden plows for those who will need them. Is there any discussion to these suggestions so far?" He waited patiently until he was sure that there would be no further discussion "I thought not. Very well, we will now move on to the next stage of our defense."

Harryhl cleared his throat again nervously, and Byrol nodded at him to proceed. "A plan has been presented to me by Lords Byrol and Banl some time ago that, upon lengthy reflection, I find is very sound. However, before I present it, I have a few words to say to you all.

"We all suffered greatly the last time war came to our mountains. There was one amongst the Thaelu who seemed to pick out our weaknesses as if they were floating leaves of cha in his mug and used them for his own benefit. I speak, of course, of Lord-General Gyrl. You all know how much the man is hated by myself and all the Halidu people.

"But circumstances have changed, my Lords. Most of you are already aware that our mountain now shelter the Master-Healer Karinna, who is also Princess of Thaelia. However, what most of you did not know until this moment is that the Princess has borne twin children here. One of them, a boy-child she has named Rhyl in honor of the Clan that gave her shelter, is by the laws of Thaelia not only the heir to the throne, but in fact the King even now! What is more, it has been necessary that Chlin, the one many are now calling the Traitor-King, be informed of these events."

"That's wonderful!" spat Lord Sharhl sourly. "Leave it to the offspring of Gyrl the Destroyer to bring about the cause of our next destruction."

"That's unfair, Lord Sharhl," Byrol growled back. "She fled Chlin just as we would have. Her children have become a treasure for the Halidu to guard, for they shall be raised as one of us. What better King could there be than one who is Halidu at heart, even if not by blood?"

Sharhl snorted again. "If..."

"Enough, my Lord!" Harryhl barked. "I have not finished. There is yet one piece of news to tell. The same twist of fate that delivered the Princess Karinna into our care has also brought another to us from the lowlands who will possibly be of the greatest use to us in our time of need. We are also now shelter Lord Gyrl here in the Halidem..."

"Lord Gyrl?!" "What?!" All but Banl and Byrol began firing questions at the Jedh Lord, who held his hands up in an appeal for calm.

"Listen to me!" Harryhl shouted, finally losing his patience at the prolonged tumult. The other Lords' talking subsided, and all eyes were on the burly leader. "You all know how much I personally lost in the Conflict: my parents, my brothers and sister, my hyl... I need not continue. Of all of you, I lost the most because it was my father, Lord Jaryhm, who led our people in revolt. I have both cause and opportunity to take terrible vengeance on him for what he did to me and to all of us. But I won't, and I will not allow any of you to take your revenge either!"

All but Sharhl were struck dumb by Harryhl's vehement order, the aged northern Lord giving yet another of his snorts and a scathing comment: "You've gone soft on us, Harryhl. Too much time in Tharea has broken your spirit!" He looked at the other Lords and did not see the blood rush to Harryhl's face in anger, instead continuing to criticize. "Perhaps we need a new leader; one who is not gutless."

"Look who speaks of lack of spirit!" Harryhl's voice was icy with rage. "Who was it who chose to turn over his swords to the Thaelu without a single whimper of a fight the moment they showed their faces near the walls of Sarans'hyl? Who is the only Halidu Lord who still lives that was Lord before as well as during the Conflict? What gives you the right to question my motives?"

Sharhl just shrugged off Harryhl's tirade, not meeting the gazes of the other Lords, which had no trace of friendliness in them. Many of them silently nodded their agreement with Harryhl's tirade which had touched a tender nerve against Sharhl which had not healed over any better than the one against Gyrl.

"I choose not to kill Lord Gyrl," Harryhl continued, more confidently than before, "because he is an asset to us. Who else can tell us exactly where we made our mistakes in the past? Where in all of Thaelia can we find another who can plan strategies for our defense that have a chance of winning against his own plans that he used before? Chlin will not have any choice but to use the same tactics that Gyrl used if he wishes to defeat us again. They worked too well not to use again. Gyrl would know not only our former mistakes, but the weaknesses of his own past plans..."

"Alright, wait a moment," Forl interrupted. "Your point is well taken: Lord-General Gyrl could be of tremendous aid to our cause. None of us could argue the point, right? He looked to the other Lords for confirmation, and they all nodded except Sharhl, who pointedly did not respond and began cleaning his fingernails. Forl gave the old man a withering look and then continued, "My only question to you would be whether or nor Lord-General Gyrl would help us in the first place?"

"What reason would he have for helping us now? He probably hates us as much as we him," Krom chimed in. "He came here only as a last resort, I'll wager."

"Why don't you ask him yourselves?" Banl suggested seriously.

"What?!" Krom's mouth dropped open.

Harryhl nodded to Byrol. "Ask Lord-General Gyrl to join us, please."

All the Lords at the table looked at each other in consternation and sat up straighter while waiting for Byrol's return. Only a few, short moments passed before the door to the council chamber opened to readmit Byrol and give the mountain Lord their first close look at a former enemy.

Gyrl stood in the doorway for a brief time before entering. The decades since he had last been seen by most of the clansmen had not dimmed his gaze nor bowed his stance, although his hair and brows now wore the silver sheen of age. He bore himself stiffly erect, dignified in spite of the homemade leather clothing and bedraggled cloak. He met the gaze of each man in the room, his expression neither apologetic nor hostile but dignified and self- assured. He closed the door and bowed to the Halidu Council of Ku. "You wished to see me, my Lords?"

Harryhl caught Krom's eye. "Ask him your question now, my Lord."

Krom swallowed, nodded, and then turned again to face Gyrl. "I was wondering, Lord-General, what possible reasons you might have to help us defend our mountains from your countrymen and former comrades in arms?"

"My former countrymen, my Lord," Gyrl stated calmly, "and all of my former comrades in arms were those loyal to the rightful King of the time, and as such most likely perished when Chlin seized the throne for himself. I have no loyalty to the ruler who takes his throne unlawfully; so I do not even consider either him nor the men who support him them my countrymen. I would aid anyone who chose to fight him. Besides, in helping you, I am protecting the true King, who also happens to be my own grandson."

"Those are fine words, coming from a man like you," snarled Sharhl. "How do we know that you won't suffer a change of heart and betray us to the same fate as before?"

"Lord Sharhl!" Harryhl snapped. "I have..."

"If I may, my Lord," Gyrl interrupted the tirade Harryhl was about to begin. Harryhl shrugged in relief at not having to stand up for a man he still had conflicting opinions about and waved for Gyrl to defend himself.

Gyrl returned his gaze to Sharhl. "Now then, Lord Sharhl, is it? I thought I recognized you." Even those few words deflated the pompous Saranth Lord and made more than one of the other Lords stir in thoughtful interest. "In answer to your question, I pose you one: how do I know that you will not betray me to avenge yourself for past deeds? You may ask Lord Harryhl if my becoming involved was my idea, and he would tell you no. I had no wish to do anything but live the rest of my life in peace, but Lords Banl and Byrol and Harryhl convinced me otherwise. The point I'm trying to make is this: you all will have to trust me as much as I will have to trust you."

Harryhl looked around the table and asked quietly, "Is there anything else?" Sharhl sat back huffily in his seat and glowered while the other four Lords shook their heads. "Then let up put it to a vote: do we accept any help Lord-General Gyrl can offer us? Those who vote yes please rise; those who vote do not agree, please remain seated." All of the Lord but Sharhl rose slowly from their seats. Harryhl looked down smugly at the lone dissenter. "The Council of Ku is decided. We will welcome Lord Gyrl's help; and until such time as our difficulties are no more, offer him a temporary seat at Council."

Lord Sharhl's face went pale, and he jumped up in anger. I will not sit Council with a monster like him!"

"Sit down!" Harryhl roared ferociously, "or the Council will have no choice but to render your wardship of the Saranth Clan null and void and call that a new Lord be chosen. Personally," his voice lowered to an icy growl, "I would be much pleased if that happened. You have been nothing but a hindrance to the Council for years."

Sharhl looked from Harryhl to his peers and saw the same, determined, closed expressions on their faces. "Very well, then. Choose a new Lord for your dealings with my Clan. I have done with all of you and your pathetic posturing! It is a sad commentary when the Halidu leaders are forced to stoop to a monster lowlander to fight their battles for them." He pushed roughly past Gyrl and stomped from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Byrol looked at Gyrl and then at the Lord of the Jedh. "I would say that the exchange went in our favor. We have traded a useless whiner for one who is willing to shoulder his portion of responsibility for the task ahead." He gave Gyrl a smile of acceptance, and Gyrl was amazed to find that most of the other Halidu Lords' faces were much less closed and more accepting than they had been when he had entered the room.

Harryhl also smiled and motioned for Gyrl to take the now-vacant seat at the table. "I think we had better get down to some planning in earnest,gentlemen, now that all the minor distractions are gone. Lord Gyrl, I would call upon your memory and expertise to enlighten us about..."

x

"I had forgotten that messages are sent by bells in the lowlands, taking the constant ringing for granted," Harryhl commented as he poured himself a liberal glass of the potent shainsa and lifting the decanter to offer some to both Byrol and Gyrl. Both men nodded acceptance, and Harryhl turned to pour our two more glasses of the red liquor. "Knowing that doesn't really help us much, however. Although we all agree that we need a more efficient means of communications between the hyls, we don't have the time to mine more metal from the old mines. Those mines were quite effectively put out of production a long time past, if you remember. Nor do we have the facilities to refine the ore so that we could forge our own bells."

"And some of us are having a hard time just turning our metal plows into swords and spearheads," Byrol added. "The ones who know how to work the metal and hone it to the degree needed are old, and some of them are so old that they are dying and taking their knowledge and skills with them."

"At this point, it's more important to arm and teach the younger men the art of working metal," Gyrl remarked and then took a tentative sip from the glass Harryhl had handed him with a sly smile. He gasped as the burning liquid trickled down his throat, much to the amusement of the others. "Argh! I had forgotten about this stuff!"

Harryhl choked on his own drink with laughter as Banl's voice came from just outside the sittingroom. "Is this a closed meeting for elders only, or can anyone join in?"

"Not at all," invited Byrol expansively, pointing to the decanter on the sideboard. "Help yourself and join us."

"I thought you were going as far as the fork with Lord Forl before heading home," Harryhl remarked, remembering past comments and plans. "What happened?"

"Sharhl was leaving at the same time," Banl explained in a disgusted tone. "I didn't want to travel one pace with that old chinker. He reminds me too much of my father for me to put up with him for long."

"You and me both!" exclaimed Krom as he stomped into the room and threw his heavy cloak over the back of one of the remaining empty chairs. "He's still spitting and sputtering about having Gyrl the Destroyer sitting on our precious Council and complaining about every slight any of us have ever done him. Spirits save us, he's even complaining about having been forced to join his clan with our and wishing the Saranth had remained apart. Right now, I have to admit that that particular point is one with which I agree most heartily! Forl is the only one of us who has ever been able to tolerate him for any length of time, and he's welcome to travel with him by himself for all I care!"

"We were just discussing those message towers Lord Gyrl told us about earlier," Harryhl informed the late arrivals, "but also we were reviewing how impractical they are right now, given our circumstances and the uncertainty of when an attack might come. Since most of us from the Council are here, I might as well lead the discussion as if we were meeting formally. Any thoughts?"

Banl sipped slowly from his glass. "Granted that bells would be effective, but our locations make them unworkable. Everyone here knows how the sound bounces from here to there and echoes all over - yet cannot be heard in certain places. Sound wouldn't travel far enough dependably to be useful, and we wouldn't be able to distinguish the direction the message came from in the first place."

Gyrl took another, more careful sip and managed not to choke this time. "Like I ... hhhaaaa ... said before, it was this lack of rapid message transfer that was one of the keys I was most able to put to my advantage. Warnings were impossible, so I had the element of surprise all the time. If we are to protect ourselves, this weakness must be eliminated quickly. When Chlin decides to make an attempt to invade the mountains, we will need to know within a short time where to send our men."

"Drums?" suggested Byrol pensively. "We have the wood and skins in plenty..."

"No," Krom shook his head. "If bells wouldn't work, then neither would drums. Besides which, we don't need to get wrapped up in too many construction projects at once while still needing to raise the crops to feed our people next winter."

"Another thing, using sound will tell the lowlanders that something was going on," Gyrl mused in agreement, his mind weighing options. "Chlin has got to be kept unaware of the messages being sent, or we will lose the element of surprise."

"A silent message," Banl muttered to himself, then looked up excitedly. "I've got it!"

"What?" The four older men looked at him, startled.

Banl handed his glass to Byrol and stood up to walk over to where the decanter of shainsa sat on its silver tray. "Watch," he said, moving the decanter aside and picking up the tray.

"What in the..." Krom began in confusion.

"Watch!" Banl moved into a beam of sunlight pouring through the tall window and held the tray up into it, flashing the blinding light into each man's face in turn and making them blink.

Harryhl's face took on an expression of thoughtfulness. "Not bad at all. A child's game put to good use."

Gyrl stroked his shaggy beard, deep in thought. "Light-weight, easy to use, portable, not a bad idea at all." He took another sip of his drink and then swallowed quickly as the idea spawned another inspiration. "There's only one problem with it. We need clear, sunny days for it to work; and we all know that not all days are sunny. What happens, then, when there is an important message to get through and the day is cloudy?"

Byrol leaned forward slightly. "I just thought of another flaw. This method would only work in the daytime. What if a message needed to be sent at night?"

Banl's face fell for a moment, and then he brightened a little. "What about using bright-shining lightstones for a light source at night?"

Gyrl nodded. "Good thinking, Lord Banl. That solves that problem, but still leaves us with the problem of what to do on cloudy or rainy or stormy days."

Harryhl went around the room refilling empty glasses. "You know, during the winter storms, not much is moving about anyway; so I suppose we could go back to sending human messengers during breaks in the weather. Why don't we all keep working on this after we get back home, because I'm certain that someone can come up with an answer sooner or later."

"At least we have a beginning to work with," Gyrl said between sips. "I can be working on developing a code to use, although it would have been easier if Daru could have been here to help. He was always so much better at that sort of thing than I was."

"Don't you and Daru have the ability to Mind-speak?" Harryhl asked with a frown. "You could still have the benefit of his talents..."

"No, that's not possible." Gyrl's voice was flat.

"Why?" Harryhl pressed.

Gyrl steadied his hand as it held the glass of shainsa with difficulty. "Chlin caught him," he said simply, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "He died giving us the warning about Chlin's plans for us and you. Daru was the source of your first warning. If for no other reason, I would fight Chan himself in his deepest hell for the right to grind Chlin's bones beneath my heels for that crime."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Harryhl whispered sincerely. He looked at his former nemesis and saw a familiar tautness that his own face had worn for many years. "Of all the lowland Lords, I always thought your brother Daru the most tolerant. Even though he was a black-robe, I had nothing but admiration and respect for the man. I offer my sympathy for your loss."

Gyrl looked up, his eyes fierce. "You spoke this morning of loss of family - I heard you through the door. Well, now I have lost my brother as well; my brother, my King and best friend, and on top of all that, my country. I think, now, we are even."

Harryhl glanced at the other faces in the room before answering. "Even enough, my Lord." He raised his glass in the air. "Welcome to the Halidu Nation, Lord-General Gyrl. I believe you have the making of a true mountain man, and soon the rest of the Halidu people will be happy to call you friend."

x

Despite the chill in the air, none of the three burris were being pushed by their riders to do more than just walk slowly and smoothly. Banl looked bleary-eyed across Gyrl to Byrol, whose face wore a few more lines than usual. "I've never felt this bad in the morning in my life!"

Byrol chuckled and then groaned. "When one drinks enough shainsa, like we did yesterday, he deserves what he gets. Thank the spirits that Falina isn't here to see us now!"

"Nor Darla!" Banl ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. "She'd laugh herself right into miscarrying."

"Karinna never laughed when I drank too much," Gyrl remembered, but then looked at Byrol sheepishly. "But then again, she never helped me with my headache either."

"I feel sorry for Forl," Byrol groaned as his burri stepped into a depression in the road and swayed unexpectedly. "It isn't so bad when there is someone to commiserate with on a journey, but to ride the whole way to Onekhs'hyl by himself..."

"Krom was wise in drinking only a couple of glasses and then leaving for home," Banl said with another groan. "What astonished me was that Lord Harryhl drank so much more than we did. Why did you let him get that third bottle?"

"He looked more like a mountain spirit than a hearty mountain Lord," Byrol chuckled softly before putting a hand over his eyes in misery. "That was quite a contest you got into last night, Gyrl; seeing who could drink the other unconscious." He nearly dropped his reins and then nearly lost his seat reaching for them over the neck of the moving burri. His actions brought muted snickers from his companions.

"He always used to accuse me of not being able to handle myself without having the King looking over my shoulder, especially when drinking," Gyrl grumbled pridefully. "I had something to prove, and I think I actually did rather well, don't you?"

As the other, pale mountain Lords gave muted snickers and chuckles, Gyrl tried without success to sit straighter on his burri, only to give up when the world began to spin. "At least," he mused loud enough for Banl and Byrol to hear, "I wasn't the one to pass out first!"

x

Harryhl sat at the diningtable, head in his hands, staring at his half-full mug of cha and steeling himself to take another sip. Behind him he heard the squeal of his son as the youngster caught sight of his father, and Harryhl winced as he bent down to lift the lad onto his lap. It was a struggle to hold onto the squirming child while fighting a fit of nausea caused by the sensation of the entire hyl spinning madly.

"Are you alive?" Rhia's voice spoke behind him as his wife followed the child into the room.

"Barely," Harryhl muttered. On his lap, Harlan squirmed yet again, tried to reach for the mug of cha and nearly managed to upset it. "I've never seen anyone put away so much shainsa in all my life and still walk to bed on his own feet!" he observed as he put his son back down on the floor.

"You didn't see him walk; you only heard about it this morning," Rhia's voice bubbled with repressed mirth and light-hearted sympathy. She reached out and put hot cha into her husband's mug to warm it up. "I could hardly believe it when the servants told me who it was you were drinking with last night," she continued as she poured a fresh mug for herself and sat down next to him. "What happened? Has the wild Korlu suddenly become a complacent chiva?"

"Perhaps I am getting mellow," Harryhl said quietly, then added, "No. I think I understand him now; understand and - I can't believe I'm saying this - respect him. It took courage for him to walk into that council chamber the other day and face men whose lives he touched so violently years ago."

"You walked into hostile Council chambers yourself once," Rhia reminded him gently.

"True," Harryhl grimaced another sip of cha down, "but I was not the one held responsible for a massacre of almost a whole society. Besides, I was ordered to Tharea as a sort of hostage; Gyrl came into our Council chamber of his own free will."

Together they watched little Harlan's attempts to pull himself up on a chair. Rhia finally broke the silence between them. "Will he be as helpful as Byrol and Banl said he would?"

"Undoubtedly." Harryhl went on to explain how Gyrl's ability to develop a system of signals expanded Banl's idea into a workable possibility quickly, ending with, "...and so all the men will eventually know how to send and receive messages."

"Clever," Rhia remarked appreciatively. "I have only one suggestion."

"Go ahead. Any and all ideas need to be considered."

"Then use the towers the spirits themselves have provided us. Position small groups of men on the peaks between the hyls. Some of the more isolated clansmen's huts would do. That way, messages could travel more quickly and with less chance of error over longer distances."

Harryhl looked with surprise and new respect at his wife. "You being to sound like a strategist yourself. That's a good idea."

"Don't be ridiculous," Rhia chuckled self-effasively. "I'm no strategist. I've just played gossip enough to know that the more hands a message passes through, the more mistakes can be made. What about this code we all will learn?"

"We?! I said all the men would learn it."

"And why not the women as well?" Rhia protested. "After all, we women are in as much danger as you men are."

Harryhl shrugged off the idea. "The woman's place is inside the hyl, safe and secure behind thick walls, not out in the middle of some spirit-deserted wilderness sending and receiving messages."

"Perhaps in peacetime, you would be right," Rhia insisted loudly, then took pity as her husband gave her an agonized look while covering his sensitive ears. "Sorry. But you're forgetting one important aspect of my idea."

"Oh, really?" In his misery, Harryhl's voice held an edge of sarcasm that stung more than intended. "Then please inform me where I am lacking."

Rhia rose quietly and picked up her son. "Think, Harryhl. If the women took care of the isolated message centers, it would leave more men to do the fighting." She settled Harlan comfortable on her hip and gave her husband a disapproving glare. "Perhaps you will listen to reason when your head isn't so full of shainsa fumes."

Harryhl reached out and snared her skirt, instantly contrite. "I'm sorry, n'ainya; don't be angry with me. It's an interesting thought and worthy of consideration. Just..." he gave Rhia a weak smile, "wait until I'm feeling a little better before bringing it up again. I don't think very well in this condition, and your suggestion needs a clear head able to concentrate."

"That's the truth!" Rhia agreed quickly, then gave Harryhl a forgiving smile in answer. "The best thing for you right now is to finish that cha and then go to bed to sleep the fumes away."

Harryhl looked down into the mug of cha and swallowed hard at the thought of downing the entire contents. "No," he said, rising to his feet and swaying dizzily, "I think the sleep will do it if," he favored his wife with another sheepish grin, "you could help me up the stairs?"

Rhia burst out laughing, ignoring the pained look that came over Harryhl's visage as a result of the loud noise. "You men!" she chuckled as she allowed him to put his arm around her neck. "What would you do without your women to take care of you?"

Harryhl gave his wife a sideways glance as the words behind the words finally sank through his aching head, but he reserved comment as he knew that he had neither enough strength nor the ambition to continue the discussions at the moment.

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