So the Imperador didn’t have to break precedent. Stretch it, perhaps, but not break it. That both amused and troubled Dekkard. He also noticed that there was no mention of the role played by either Ingrella’s inspired petition to the High Justiciary or by the implied threat by the Patrollers Benevolent Society of Machtarn. He turned to the second and longer story.
Treasury Minister Attempts Murder of Premier, Then Suicides
When Treasury Minister Isomer Munchyn was summoned to meet acting Premier Obreduur, it was a foregone conclusion that Munchyn would be asked for his resignation. What no one expected was that Munchyn would draw a wooden frog-poison gun and attempt to assassinate the acting Premier, an attempt foiled at literally the last moment by Councilor Obreduur’s security aides and by Council Guards. Then Munchyn, while being pulled away from the Premier, stabbed himself in the neck with a tiny poisoned blade. He died before a doctor could be summoned.
While the Premier has not spoken about the attempt, sources in the Treasury Ministry revealed that, as Councilor, Obreduur had requested that Munchyn look into reports of special tariff treatment of imports by subsidiaries of large Guldoran corporacions …
The acting Treasury Minister had no comment except that he would be looking into the matter …
Dekkard was about to replace the newssheet on the side table when Avraal stepped into the staff room. Instead he dropped it on the corner of the dining table, stepped forward, and hugged her, murmuring, “It’s so good to see you.”
She returned the embrace, then eased out of his arms. “We still have to get through the next two weeks. Only brief embraces in public.” Then she smiled. “But it’s good to see you weren’t swept away by my attire.”
Dekkard realized that she still wore a robe. He almost said that he wasn’t interested in the robe, but then realized that that might have been taken as pure lust. Not that there’s not lust; it’s just not all lust. “You look good in anything.”
“So do you.”
“Thank you. I’m not sure I believe it, but thank you.” Dekkard stepped back. “Just sit down. I’ll get you your café … and you can read what Gestirn had to say about what happened yesterday.” He picked up the newssheet and handed it to her, then poured her a mug of café and set it before her. Only then did he get his own café and plates for both of them before sitting down across from her.
She finished the newssheet and placed it on the table. Then she took a sip of café, then another.
Dekkard took several sips of café and waited. Finally, he took his croissants and some of the guava jelly that had replaced the tomato jelly.
Finally, Avraal set down her mug and smiled. “You’re patient. Thank you.”
“I’m not patient. I understand you don’t want to talk until you’ve had some café.”
“That’s fair enough. I’m glad the stories are accurate. I doubt that Hansaal Volkaar is as happy with them. They might cost them a seat or two. I’m glad they reported that Council Guards were present.”
“I have my doubts. Still … I think the stories might help get some Landor councilors to support Obreduur … if we win a few more seats.”
“Not openly.”
“That’s the beauty of the Great Charter. It does allow councilors to vote their conscience without sacrificing everything. Of course, the New Meritorists would claim that a councilor’s vote should always be personally public, which, in time, would destroy councilors’ rights to oppose their party without losing everything.”
Hyelda appeared in the kitchen archway. “The councilor asked me to tell you he’ll need you in your security grays by third bell. He’s expecting visitors.” Hyelda paused. “You think I should call him ‘Premier’ now?”
“Just call him ‘sir,’” suggested Dekkard. “At least until he becomes premier for real … if that happens. But I’d wager he’ll be more comfortable with ‘sir’ here in the house.”
Avraal nodded.
By a third after the second bell of morning, just after Hyelda and Rhosali had left for their usual day off, Dekkard and Avraal were in their security grays waiting in the staff room when Obreduur appeared. “You might as well join me in the study.”
The two rose and followed Obreduur to the study, where he gestured for them to sit.
“We’re going to have to cram a great deal into the next few days, because, with the elections coming up on such short notice, we … that is, you two and I, will be leaving for Oersynt this Duadi on the Night Express. You’ll be wearing security grays during the day, with your long truncheon, but not the gladius, and gray suits for evening engagements, of which there will be one every night. So pack accordingly.”
“Just you, not Ingrella?” asked Dekkard, wishing he hadn’t when Avraal rolled her eyes.
“Ingrella would help some, but she has legalist commitments here, as well as dealing with Nellara and Gustoff. People won’t care too much if she’s not there. They will if I’m not.”
“Is there anything special we need to do?” asked Avraal.
“Keeping all of us safe will be special enough,” replied Obreduur wryly.
Dekkard could see that was all Obreduur wanted to say. So he asked, “Can you tell us who this morning’s visitors will be?”
“Haarsfel, Hasheem, Mardosh, and Zerlyon, although Harleona will be spending time after the meeting with Ingrella.”
That told Dekkard that Obreduur was setting the groundwork for committee priorities just in case he did have the opportunity to lead the Council of Sixty-Six and form a government.
The councilor’s eyes held a twinkle as he said, “That’s right, Steffan. We won’t have much time after the elections. So, in the event we do gain control of the Council, we need to be ready to act, with legislative proposals that will address some of the worker and New Meritorist concerns without playing into the hands of the Commercers … and we need to know what junior Commercer councilors would like that we can support as well as anything that the Commercers might push that’s got problems that aren’t obvious.”
“What about the Navy and Security and keeping order?” asked Avraal.
“With the regular patrollers opposed to Security agents and the STF, I’ve already sent instructions that STF detachments aren’t to be used except in case of heavily armed demonstrators. I very much like Steffan’s idea of splitting Security into two parts … but I’d prefer transferring the STF to the Army. We’ll have to move more carefully with the Navy to make certain that it’s not being used for corporacion purposes, but the marshals there won’t be in the slightest displeased with Ulrich’s removal, not after the way he pinned much of the blame on them when the Navy never knew where the coal was even coming from.”
“What about Munchyn?” asked Dekkard.
“I have to wonder if Munchyn was paid, indirectly, of course, to have the tariff inspectors undervalue those imports,” said Obreduur. “I’ve asked Carlos to look into Munchyn’s financial position to see if his bank accounts are larger than they should be or if he’d bought property he couldn’t afford. There may not be anything, but there has to be something. Otherwise … I can’t see why he’d try assassination and then suicide.”
“Unless someone had a hold over him,” suggested Avraal.
“You couldn’t tell anything like that, could you?”
“Not unless whoever it was happened to be in the same room as Munchyn.”
Obreduur nodded slowly. “I had that feeling, but it was worth asking.”
At that moment, the sound of the heavy bronze knocker echoed from the front door, and Dekkard and Avraal immediately rose.
“Have the councilors come to the study, but you and any security aides should remain in the front sitting room, not the staff room.”
Which places us between the front door and the study, rather than out of the way. “Yes, sir,” replied Dekkard.
Both Dekkard and Avraal hurried into the front hall.
“One man,” said Avraal.
Dekk
ard opened the door to see Councilor Hasheem, without Erleen Orlov. “Come in, Councilor. He’s expecting you.”
Within minutes, Guilhohn Haarsfel arrived, also without a security aide, but from what Dekkard had discerned, he hadn’t had one in years, and Dekkard had to wonder why the Craft floor leader didn’t have to worry. Or is he one of those what-will-be-will-be fatalistic personalities?
On the other hand Harleona Zerlyon, who followed Haarsfel, was accompanied by both Chavyona Leiugan and Tullyt Kamryn, while Councilor Mardosh brought Stavros Rhennus. Once the five councilors were gathered in Obreduur’s study, all the security aides took seats in the sitting room.
“I never thought I’d see a Craft premier,” said Rhennus, “even an acting one.”
“If the elections go right, he might be more than acting,” suggested Kamryn.
“That has to be what they’re planning for.” Leiugan looked to Avraal. “How likely is it?”
Avraal didn’t answer immediately, but finally said, “I don’t know. I do know that in the last election, we gained enough seats to have only two less than the Commercers. If we get three more and they hold what they have, we’d have twenty-six seats to their twenty-five seats, but that makes fifty-one, and since the Landor Party can’t have less than sixteen, the party with the higher plurality gets the advantage. So that would leave us with twenty-six and the Commercers with twenty-four.”
“But it could go the other way, couldn’t it?” asked Rhennus.
“It could,” said Dekkard, “but it all depends on which districts each party takes. If we win current Commercer seats, or the Landors do, then we’ll have a plurality. It gets chancier if we pick up Landor seats and not Commercer seats.”
“Frig…” muttered Kamryn. “Never thought we’d need help from the Landors.”
“We’ll need help from them anyway, even if we take Commerce seats,” Avraal pointed out. “Even if we pick up six seats—that’s the maximum we can hold, and that many is unlikely—we’d still need four councilors from other parties to support us, and very few Commercers are going to want to support a Craft premier. We have slightly more in common with Landors, at least right now, than with Commercers.”
“Even if we win thirty seats, won’t the Landors stick with the Commercers?” asked Rhennus.
“They very well could,” admitted Avraal, “but the Commercers have opposed freight rate regulations, and there’s evidence that the ironways and barge consortiums are giving lower rates to industrial goods than to produce and agricultural goods. And the Commercers almost pushed through the elimination of the swampgrass tariff, which would have hurt the Landors in the southwest…”
“What you’re saying is that the Landor councilors could go either way,” said Leiugan, “for the first time?”
“There’s also the possibility that a few Commercer councilors might quietly support Obreduur,” added Dekkard, “because they’ve been ignored or actually hurt by their own party.”
Kamryn shook his head. “All of that means that we don’t know, and we won’t know, even after the election.”
“Not until the new Council meets,” said Avraal.
“What will happen to you two,” asked Leiugan, “that is, if your boss becomes the real premier?”
Dekkard and Avraal exchanged glances. He nodded to her.
“We haven’t even talked about it. As you must know from Gestirn this morning … we’ve been occupied just keeping him safe.”
“How did you two manage that?” asked Leiugan.
“We were close enough, and Avraal sensed what was about to happen,” said Dekkard, “but she could tell you better than I…”
“I warned Steffan. He moved faster than I’ve ever seen anyone move…”
As Avraal finished describing what had happened, Dekkard repressed a shudder. It had been so close. Too close. How often can you keep doing that? He decided not to think about it, especially since there was little he could do about the situation. Except to keep practicing and to stay alert … possibly for almost every moment over the next two weeks.
From there the conversation drifted into an almost desultory ramble on the New Meritorists and what effect they might have on the election, if any, and speculations on why Ulrich and Wyath had ordered or allowed the mass shooting at the Square of Heroes.
As the room became quiet, Dekkard realized he needed to send a quick letter off to his parents and Naralta. Telling them he’d be in Oersynt, but with the caution that he didn’t know how much free time he might have, given the need to assure Obreduur’s security.
A good third before the fifth bell of morning the study door opened. Hasheem, Haarsfel. and Mardosh, along with Rhennus, left immediately while Obreduur, Ingrella, and Zerlyon went back into the study and closed the door.
“They’re planning what to do in the Justiciary Committee, one way or another,” said Dekkard.
“The councilor thinks it’s very possible we could get a Craft government,” replied Leiugan.
“Did she say why?”
“I asked her. She just said one word—‘Women.’ That was all.”
Dekkard noted Kamryn’s amused expression and asked, “You don’t think so?”
“I wouldn’t say no, but I think it’s unlikely.”
“So was the Silent Revolution,” said Dekkard dryly. “But it still happened. For that matter, the New Meritorists shouldn’t have been able to destroy fifteen regional Security headquarters, but that happened as well. When you look back, you can see how they both happened, but people didn’t look in the right places. Women are taking over more and more positions in the stronger guilds and they’re strengthening guilds that were once weaker.”
“I don’t see that,” Kamryn replied.
“As Steffan pointed out,” said Avraal, “it all depends on where you look. We’ll see if he and your councilor are right on election day … and after.”
“We’ll see.” Kamryn’s tone was doubtful.
The three presumably meeting on the Justiciary Committee finished at a third past noon, and Councilor Zerlyon and her two aides were on their way in a sixth after that.
Once the front door shut behind them, Obreduur turned to Dekkard. “If you’d ready the large Gresynt, Steffan, you can drive all of us, including Nellara and Gustoff, to Don Miguel. All of us, but especially you two, deserve a good meal.”
Dekkard was more than happy to oblige.
89
ON Unadi morning the only story in Gestirn dealing directly with politics or government was an article on Obreduur, reporting on his rise from river stevedore to guild steward to assistant guildmeister to guildmeister, and from there to district guild coordinator and his appointment to the Council upon the death of his predecessor in an unfortunate “domestic incident.”
Dekkard smiled sardonically at the circumlocution of Lewes’s murder by his wife.
Obreduur also moved up the morning departure time so that the three of them would be in the office half before the second bell. That didn’t surprise Dekkard, and he wondered how many other changes might be coming. But then, the election might not change anything that much, not if the Commercers and Landors stick together.
Dekkard did wait until Avraal had time with her café before he asked, “How do you feel about going to Oersynt? When I asked you last night, you said you wanted to think about it.”
She pursed her lips for an instant. “I worry. In a way, it doesn’t matter where he is. If the Commercers want to strike at him, they’ll try. He’s worried, too. You notice he didn’t hesitate to say we were going with him. And he’s going alone, without family.”
“That makes sense, either way,” Dekkard pointed out.
Avraal just looked at him.
“You’re right,” he admitted, “but it would make sense either way.”
“I think we should bring spare knives.”
“I’d already thought of that.”
“And pack every cravat you have.”
He
smiled. “You told me that last night.”
She smiled in return. “I wanted to make sure you remembered.”
After that, they ate quickly because they knew they had less time, even though Dekkard had gotten up earlier, but he actually had the Gresynt under the portico soon enough that he waited several minutes for Obreduur and Avraal.
Once everyone was settled and Dekkard turned onto Altarama, before Obreduur could get too involved in papers or writing, Dekkard asked, “Is there anything else different today that we should be aware of?”
Obreduur laughed softly. “Not that I know. Remember, this is also a first time for me.”
“Yes, sir, but you’ve been around much longer.”
“That’s true enough, but the Commercer premiers have never been exactly informative about everything.”
Dekkard understood that, and didn’t ask any more questions on the drive to the Council Office Building, where he dropped off Obreduur and Avraal.
He was still stopped three times before entering the building, but the last Council Guard was more respectful.
“I’m sorry to have had to stop you, sir, but there have been too many incidents this year. I hope your councilor can put things on the right rails before long.”
“So do I … and thank you.”
Dekkard was feeling almost cheerful as he posted the letter to his parents and then made his way up the staff staircase to the second level, but just after he came out of the door, he saw someone walking toward him. His hand moved toward his truncheon before he recognized Caarsten Thaarn, the isolate security aide of Councilor Waarfel.
“Steffan!”
“Caarsten, I haven’t seen you in a while.” Except for glimpses of Thaarn, it had been months since they’d actually exchanged words. “How are you and Alympiana doing? Have you had to deal with those New Meritorists?”
“In Aloor? You have to be jesting. There are more shells of houses than occupied dwellings. If it weren’t for the tin mines … and they’re playing out…” Thaarn shrugged.
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