Obreduur stood and walked to the office door. He opened it and said, “Avraal, you’re needed here.”
After Avraal entered the office, Obreduur stepped out, closing the door.
Avraal looked at the closed door, then at Dekkard, who stood, and asked, in a tone between puzzled and slightly cross, “Can you explain?”
Dekkard shook his head. “I’ll try.” He handed her the heliogram. “You need to read it first.”
She read it. Then she read it again. “It’s not a terrible joke, is it?”
“Obreduur says that it’s not. He said he’d hoped that I’d be a councilor someday. I don’t think even he expected this. I think they’d planned for someone else.” He looked at her. “I didn’t want it like this. But, without you, I’ll make too many mistakes. Yet … I don’t want you thinking that’s why…”
She stepped forward and put her finger on his lips. “I know that. I’ve always known that, and the answer to the question you asked earlier is still the same. Yes … and yes.”
“But … there are so many things…”
“Steffan … what did I say—”
“I understand. This may be the only chance. It’s just so sudden.”
“Together … we can do it.” She leaned forward and kissed him.
After gathering himself together, Dekkard walked to the door and opened it.
Obreduur looked at the two and walked back into the inner office. “And?”
“You’re gaining a councilor and losing a security aide. We can still—”
The acting Premier shook his head. “Only until the moment you’re sworn in later this afternoon. Don’t worry. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, and I earlier asked Carlos if I could hire Isobel Irlende temporarily if you two married. He agreed. She’ll learn things valuable to him, and she’s almost as good as you are, Avraal, as an empath, and she’s better than decent with weapons.”
“Then … why…?” offered Dekkard.
“She usually makes far more than the Council can pay. Allowing her to work for me for a bit is also a favor. I’ll be sending Carlos a message shortly for her to come to the office this afternoon. I may need a little unofficial protection back from the floor after the session is over.”
The next two bells both dragged and flew by, and before Dekkard knew it, he and Avraal were escorting Obreduur to the premier’s floor office.
They stood in the area just inside the door to the main corridor of the Council Hall, just waiting and watching as Obreduur signed and sealed various papers.
At a sixth before noon, Obreduur turned to Dekkard. “Just wait here, Steffan. I’ll send the lieutenant-at-arms for you when the time comes.”
One of the clerks looked up with a puzzled expression.
“This is Councilor-select Dekkard for the Gaarlak district. The district party insisted. You saw all the papers.”
“Yes, sir. We just didn’t know…”
“It’s unusual … but not unprecedented.” Obreduur smiled. “And the other security aide is his fiancée. It’s already been an interesting day.”
Dekkard turned to Avraal and murmured, “Let’s hope it doesn’t get any more interesting.”
When Obreduur left the office through the door that led to the Council floor, one of the clerks motioned to a small shuttered window beside that door. “Just open the shutters. You can’t see much besides the desk of the presiding councilor, but you can hear most of what goes on. That’s so we can see when we need to go out for anything the Premier or the presiding councilor needs.”
“Thank you.”
“You’ll be out there soon enough.”
Dekkard and Avraal moved to the window, where he eased the shutters open. All he could see was the dais dominated by the narrow desk of whoever was presiding and the front row of the councilors’ desks, where four councilors stood. The two he recognized were the Craft floor leader, Guilhohn Haarsfel, and Obreduur. The other two might have been Vonauer and Volkaar.
Dekkard could hear murmurings and bits of conversation, both from the gallery above and from the floor as the chamber filled, but none of the conversations were clear to him.
Then the chimes struck the six bells of noon, followed by a single echoing deep chime that seemed to reverberate through Dekkard—as he expected it had been designed to do.
An individual wearing the green and black dress uniform of the Council Guards strode to the middle of the dais, directly before the desk behind which Obreduur now stood, and struck the floor with the gold and black ceremonial staff. Then he declared in a deep voice, “The Council is now in session,” after which he pivoted and marched off the dais and down the steps on the side away from Dekkard.
After a long moment of silence, Obreduur declared, “The first order of this council and of this session is the swearing in of the duly elected members of the Council of Sixty-Six. All councilors now present stand to be sworn.”
Dekkard saw the councilors in the front row stand behind their desks, as well as heard the shuffling and rising of the others.
Obreduur read the oath of office, phrase by phrase, as the new and reelected councilors repeated each phrase.
“I solemnly swear that as a Councilor of the Sixty-Six, I will uphold the Great Charter and all of its provisions, in both letter and spirit, that I will by word and deed defend those provisions, and that I undertake my sacred duties and responsibilities of my own free will, without reservation or hesitation.”
“The Council now stands ready to conduct its necessary business,” declared Obreduur.
After those words, Guilhohn Haarsfel, as the Craft Party floor leader, stepped forward and cleared his throat. “The Craft leadership has proposed the name of the acting Premier, Axel Laurent Obreduur, as its premier-designate. The vote is for or against the candidate. All councilors have a third in which to register their vote and deposit a plaque.”
As Haarsfel finished speaking, Obreduur gestured, and the deep gong chimed once.
Dekkard watched as each councilor walked to his or her party’s plaque box and picked up two of the colored tiles, one signifying yes, one no, then walked to the double box set on the front of the dais, where one tile went into the ballot slot and the other into the null slot.
As he kept watching, he found that his mouth and lips were getting dry. He looked to Avraal. “How do you feel?”
“Nervous, unsettled. The whole chamber feels unsettled.”
Dekkard wished he could have voted, but the procedures were what they were.
Finally, the deep chime rang again.
“The vote is closed,” declared Obreduur. “Floor leaders, do your duty.”
The three floor leaders watched as each voting tile was removed from the ballot box and placed in one of two columns in the counting tray. Each column was also separated by party. Then the clerk wrote the vote totals on the tally sheet, and each of the three floor leaders signed the sheet. As the floor leader of the party with the greatest number of councilors, Haarsfel carried the tally sheet as he stepped onto the dais.
“Those councilors approving Councilor Axel Obreduur as the Council’s selection as premier of this council—twenty-eight Craft councilors, eight Landor councilors, and five Commerce councilors, for a total of forty-three. The Council has elected Axel Obreduur as premier.”
A modest wave of applause immediately issued from the councilors and from the gallery.
“He did it. He actually did it,” said one of the clerks behind Dekkard and Avraal.
Haarsfel was smiling broadly as he gestured to Obreduur. “Acting Premier and Premier-select Obreduur.”
“Thank you. All of you. As is precedent, I will not offer my address to the Council until I am officially accepted, and, if accepted, I will address the entire Council at the opening of the session on Unadi. There is one other item, however. As some of you may know, the councilor-elect from the Gaarlak district died of heart failure earlier this week. The decision on his successor was made
entirely by the district Craft Party. After a lengthy and protracted debate, they recommended Steffan Delos Dekkard as the replacement councilor for the Gaarlak district. Some of you may know Councilor-select Dekkard, and his selection was as much of a surprise to me as it was to him. Lieutenant-at-Arms, please escort the councilor-select to the floor.”
The same uniformed figure who had opened the Council session walked to the door from the Premier’s floor office and opened it. Avraal squeezed Dekkard’s hand, then released it, as he followed the lieutenant-at-arms to the center of the floor, and then turned to face Obreduur.
Moments later, he found himself repeating the words of the Councilors’ Oath that he had heard earlier.
“You are now confirmed as councilor, and to carry out your duties,” intoned Obreduur, adding after a pause, “There being no other pending matters before the Council, the Council stands adjourned until noon, Unadi, the nineteenth day of Fallfirst.”
The deep gong chimed again.
Obreduur was smiling as he descended from the dais. “You’re a councilor, but I’m going to have to impose on you and your fiancée for an additional duty. I have to present myself to the Imperador.”
“It would be our pleasure.”
At that moment, Councilor Hasheem appeared. “Congratulations, Axel, or should I say Premier?”
“Not yet, and I’m still Axel, except when I’m presiding or it’s some most formal affair.”
Hasheem turned to Dekkard. “It’s somehow fitting that one of those who saved a councilor is now a councilor himself. I might be a little prejudiced, since I was the one you two saved.”
“I’m just glad we were able to,” replied Dekkard.
In moments, the chamber was at least half empty, those remaining seemingly largely Craft councilors, one of whom was the Craft floor leader, who moved toward Dekkard. “Welcome to the Council, Steffan. It’s good to have you here, although I’m a bit puzzled as to how Axel managed it.”
“He didn’t, sir. Apparently, several influential guild members I met earlier this year were behind it. Premier Obreduur was correct in saying that he was as stunned as I was.”
“You’re going to have to work to keep that seat, you know. Really work.”
“That struck me immediately, sir.”
“Guilhohn,” interjected Obreduur, “I’ve been informed that the Imperador is waiting, and I’m going to have to borrow Steffan for one of his last security duties.”
“You really didn’t know?”
Obreduur shook his head. “I really didn’t. I’d thought they’d select some longer-standing party leaders. Steffan’s recommendation came right out of the green.”
Haarsfel offered an amused smile. “Enjoy yourself with the Imperador.”
As Dekkard reentered the Premier’s floor office, following Obreduur, one of the clerks appeared and handed Dekkard a bronze oblong. “There’s your passcard, Councilor, and here’s your lapel pin.”
Dekkard took both, feeling slightly overwhelmed.
Avraal extracted the pin from his hand and immediately put it in place on his gray jacket, then murmured, “We’re still security, for now. Something could still happen.”
Her words weren’t quite cold water, but they did ground him, and he moved beside her as they followed Obreduur out of the floor office and toward the east doors of the Council Hall.
As had been the case before, a black Gresynt limousine with the Council insignia on the front hood was waiting at the east entrance. A Council Guard stood beside the steamer and opened the middle and rear doors as the three approached. The guard seated himself in front beside the driver, once Dekkard, Avraal, and Obreduur were in place.
In a way, Dekkard was glad that Haarsfel had been with them the first time they had gone to the Palace. Otherwise, it would be even more overwhelming.
From Council Avenue, the driver turned north onto Imperial Boulevard, then circled around the Square of Heroes. Unlike the last time, there were people in the square, mostly close to the oval of white marble pillars surrounding the statue of Laureous the Great. The driver turned in to the entrance drive to the Palace, stopping just before the shimmering golden gates—where stood four Palace Guards in their red-and-gold uniforms.
“The Premier-select to see the Imperador,” announced the driver.
“He’s expected. Use the east portico entrance.”
“Thank you.” The driver eased the limousine through the open gates and up the long white stone drive to a pale golden marble edifice that dominated the low rise overlooking the city to the south. Dekkard still marveled at the gardens with their elaborate topiary hedges, hedges edged with gold and rose fall flowers, beyond which was the meticulously groomed lawn with white stone paths.
When the limousine came to a halt under the east portico a Palace Guard stepped forward and opened the limousine doors. After the three exited the steamer, an older naval lieutenant, possibly one who had come up through the ranks, stepped forward.
“Premier, the Imperador is expecting you. If you’d come with me.”
Dekkard found it interesting that the officer simply referred to Obreduur as Premier.
Avraal and Dekkard trailed Obreduur through the polished bronze doors and into the entry hall with its white marble floor edged with gold-lined green marble. As he and Avraal followed the lieutenant and Obreduur along the hall, Dekkard noticed immediately that there were quite a few more servitors watching them than had been the case the last time.
Because a Craft premier is so unusual? Or for some other reason?
With that thought, Dekkard redoubled his concentration, looking for any sign of the out-of-the-ordinary.
The lieutenant turned right along another broad corridor, then stopped short of a door with a single, if large and muscular, Palace Guard beside it. “The Premier-select to see His Excellency.”
“One moment, please.” The guard stepped inside the door and shut it, only to reappear almost instantly. “Premier, you may enter.”
Dekkard and Avraal waited for little more than a sixth before Obreduur stepped out, with an expression that was somber, but possibly contained a hint of amusement. “The Imperador accepted my right to form a government.”
“Congratulations, Premier,” said the lieutenant, with more than token warmth in his voice.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. I appreciate it,” replied Obreduur.
No one spoke until they reached the east entrance, where the limousine, and its guard and driver, waited in the shade of the portico. Then the lieutenant said, “The best of fortune to you, Premier.” Then he looked closely at Dekkard. “That’s a councilor’s pin.”
“He was just sworn in,” said Avraal, “but he has to finish his duties for the Premier.”
“That’s very encouraging, Councilor,” said the lieutenant quietly. “My best to you.”
“Thank you.”
As they walked toward the Council limousine, Avraal looked to Dekkard and said, “Emrelda will never believe it.”
“What won’t she believe?”
“Any of it.”
“She will,” Dekkard said with a smile, “when you tell her she has to help plan a wedding.”
And when she sees us together.
TOR BOOKS BY L. E. MODESITT, JR.
THE GRAND ILLUSION
Isolate
Councilor
THE SAGA OF RECLUCE
The Magic of Recluce
The Towers of the Sunset
The Magic Engineer
The Order War
The Death of Chaos
Fall of Angels
The Chaos Balance
The White Order
Colors of Chaos
Magi’i of Cyador
Scion of Cyador
Wellspring of Chaos
Ordermaster
Natural Ordermage
Mage-Guard of Hamor
Arms-Commander
Cyador’s Heirs
Heritage of Cyador
/> Recluce Tales
The Mongrel Mage
Outcasts of Order
The Mage-Fire War
Fairhaven Rising
THE COREAN CHRONICLES
Legacies
Darknesses
Scepters
Alector’s Choice
Cadmian’s Choice
Soarer’s Choice
The Lord-Protector’s Daughter
Lady-Protector
THE IMAGER PORTFOLIO
Imager
Imager’s Challenge
Imager’s Intrigue
Scholar
Princeps
Imager’s Battalion
Antiagon Fire
Rex Regis
Madness in Solidar
Treachery’s Tools
Assassin’s Price
Endgames
THE SPELLSONG CYCLE
The Soprano Sorceress
The Spellsong War
Darksong Rising
The Shadow Sorceress
Shadowsinger
THE ECOLITAN MATTER
Empire & Ecolitan (comprising The Ecolitan Operation and The Ecologic Secession)
Ecolitan Prime (comprising The Ecologic Envoy and The Ecolitan Enigma)
THE GHOST BOOKS
Of Tangible Ghosts
The Ghost of the Revelator
Ghost of the White Nights
Ghosts of Columbia (comprising Of Tangible Ghosts and The Ghost of the Revelator)
OTHER NOVELS
The Forever Hero (comprising Dawn for a Distant Earth, The Silent Warrior, and In Endless Twilight)
Timegods’ World (comprising Timediver’s Dawn and The Timegod)
The Hammer of Darkness
The Green Progression
The Parafaith War
Adiamante
Gravity Dreams
The Octagonal Raven
Archform: Beauty
The Ethos Effect
Flash
The Eternity Artifact
The Elysium Commission
Viewpoints Critical
Haze
Empress of Eternity
The One-Eyed Man
Solar Express
Quantum Shadows
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
L. E. MODESITT, JR. is the author of more than seventy books, primarily science fiction and fantasy, including the long-running, bestselling Saga of Recluce and Imager Portfolio series, as well as a number of short stories.
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