Though Tobias had called the meeting of the Council of Twelve, everyone knew that Kieft was behind it. As First Adviser, Kieft technically had no authority over the council, though if anyone really believed that, Whitman had a bridge to sell them. Kieft didn’t need a vote to push the council in whichever direction he wished. Or at least, that had been the case when he stood firmly at Mayor Hamilton’s right hand (though someone less charitable might say that Kieft’s hand was the true power in that relationship). But that was before Hamilton broke with Kieft, refusing to fight the Munsees and even offering his own life as compensation for his role in the Trap. Now no one knew what would happen or where the true power lay. Hamilton sat at the head of the table, looking tired. Ever since his long-lost daughter, Abigail, had emerged from the park, the Mayor had begun to stand up to Kieft. But Mrs. Dorothy Parker, the Goddess of Wit and Whitman’s best friend on the council, thought he still couldn’t be trusted not to fold when push came to shove.
