The Thane looked at him, sharply. Crasp watched this exchange, his features filled with gloating anticipation. As the Merchants with whom Doc was sitting got to their feet, Finli whispered, not looking at him, ‘If you value your personal safety, I suggest that you do not move from this spot.’ As a body, the twelve of them crossed the floor, coming at last to stand before the Thane’s desk.
Looking as though he expected some further betrayal, the Thane said, ‘Well, Valen? Why have you crossed the floor? I cannot believe that you would add your voice to that of Crasp.’
Valen, however, turned to face Crasp where he sat in the gallery and smiled.
Leaning over the table, and speaking very quietly, he said, ‘You miscomprehend us, my Thane. We have come to stand beside you, come what may. Or to fall,’ he said pointedly, ‘should the guards not respond with their accustomed alacrity. Armed or not, I suggest that you set your dignity aside for the moment, and cross the table to safety-’
A page, a boy of perhaps twelve or thirteen years, having overheard this exchange, drew a long dagger from his raiment and lunged at the Thane. He was quickly disarmed, but the Thane received a deep gash over his right shoulder-blade.