by Amanda Fleet
Sondan chewed his lip. “I don’t know if I want to be married to Yanna. I always assumed I’d marry Talia.”
“What?” Faran and I said in unison.
“Sondan, you’ve ruined her marriage,” I said. “She’s expecting your child! Don’t you dare abandon her now!”
Sondan took a deep breath, peering at Faran. “Do I still have your friendship?”
“Always. If your inability to keep it in your trousers meant you and I couldn’t be friends, we’d have fallen out a long time ago. But please, learn your lesson! You have to marry Yanna and make it work.”
Sondan ran a hand through his hair. “How do you two make it work so well?”
“We take our fights to the training room and resolve them before bed,” said Faran. “You need to learn to apologise when you’re wrong. And sometimes even when you’re right. Aeron and I are friends as well as husband and wife. We know what makes each other happy or sad or angry. Learn how to laugh with Yanna. Respect her. Be faithful!”
“You make it sound easy.”
“No.” Faran shrugged. “It can be difficult at times.”
The curfew bell sounded, and Sondan stood. “I should go. Thank you. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
“Go and comfort Yanna,” I said. “She’ll be scared that she’s lost everything – her marriage, you, her position.”
He scraped his hands over his face. Faran stood and clapped him on the shoulder. “You really are an idiot, Sondan.”
Sondan laughed finally, pulling Faran into a hug. “Yeah. I should have listened to your advice a long time ago.”
“Yes. You should have. Thanks for the beers.”
As the door closed on Sondan I tucked my arms around Faran’s middle and pressed my cheek against his back. “How does Gaedan know it isn’t his?”
Faran faced me and rested his arms on my shoulders, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how babies are made after tonight.” He slid his hands down my back and locked them at my waist. “I warned Sondan months ago! And it’s one thing to screw another man’s wife in your own bed. It’s an act of lunacy to screw her in his bed!”
I tucked my hand under his top and rubbed my thumb along the groove of his spine. “Will Sondan lose his position?”
“Yes. He’ll be stripped of it as soon as he confesses.”
“Who’ll be appointed Acting Successor?”
He puffed his breath out. “I think Father would prefer to move straight to elections. We’re not at war.”
“Who’s in the running? Apart from you.”
A smile tweaked his lips. “The only two who had enough seniority to stand were Sondan and Gaedan. Sondan won’t be eligible now and if Gaedan can’t command his household, he’s unlikely to be seen as a man who can command The Realm.”
31
Sondan stood next to me, his face drawn. He’d been late putting salve on his eye, and the shadow of a bruise lingered. Around us, the Great Hall filled with those Council members who’d survived. Numbers were depleted. Instead of twenty or so, barely more than a dozen sat on the benches. Usually, the most senior member of a family took the position, but it wasn’t clear who that was since so many had died. The most senior wasn’t necessarily the oldest member; there was a complicated system to determine seniority that included a lot more than age. Even then, it might not be clear, and elections could be needed to determine who would take the place.
Lord Eredan stood in the middle of the hall, arms folded, giving Sondan the evil eye. Right at the edge of the space, almost out of sight, waited Faran, ready for the inevitable election. At the back of the Council, I spotted Mathas, newly freed from Aegyir’s influence and therefore from prison. For a moment, I was surprised he’d been allowed back to advise the Council but then realised the same rules went for me and I was in my usual seat. He nodded to me and I waved back.
“How are things with Yanna?” I whispered to Sondan.
He grimaced. “Not good.”
“Have you spoken to Lady Talia yet?”
“Mm. Which is why things aren’t going well with Yanna. Talia came over and told Yanna about me and her.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’d like to feel sympathy for you, but can’t seem to muster any.”
He flashed me a shamefaced smile. “I’ll need advice about marriage from you and Faran.”
“Not sure we’re experts, but we’ll do our best to help you make it work. Start by staying faithful to Yanna.”
He grimaced. Fidelity was evidently not a strong point for him.
All of the Council members had arrived and taken their seats and a hush descended over the hall.
Lord Eredan cleared his throat. “We have a number of items to discuss regarding The Realm, but we also need to deal with a more local matter first. Lord Gaedan?”
Lord Eredan walked over to stand next to me and Sondan, sighing heavily. Lord Gaedan marched to the middle of the room, stiff-backed and glowering at Sondan.
He peered down his long nose. “I formally accuse Lord Sondan of debauching my wife.”
Stifled gasps and mutters skittered around the room before a stare from Lord Eredan silenced everyone.
“Lord Sondan? How do you answer?”
Sondan stood, ashen-faced. “I confess.” His normally loud, crisp voice was thin and shaky.
Lord Eredan sighed again. “Lord Gaedan. How do you wish to proceed?”
“I wish to divorce Yanna with immediate effect, on the grounds of infidelity and irreconcilable differences.”
“Is Yanna here?” Lord Eredan glanced around.
“Yes.”
Yanna picked her way to the centre of the room, glowering at everyone, her colour high. I hadn’t seen her up close before, only at a distance. She stood about as tall as I did, her long black hair tied in a knot at the nape of her neck. Dark, straight brows sat above a squarish face, and I thought she had a beauty that would stay, rather than a prettiness that might fade. She was currently barely containing her fury and I didn’t envy Sondan.
“Yanna, Lord Sondan has confessed to debauchery,” said Lord Eredan, facing her. “Is there anything you wish to say?”
“It’s true,” she ground out, her jaw tight.
“Thank you. How does the Council respond to Lord Gaedan’s request for a divorce?” Lord Eredan sounded fed up.
“Agreed,” rang out around the room.
“Lord Gaedan, your divorce is granted. Thank you, Yanna. You may stand down.” Lord Eredan scowled at Sondan. “Lord Sondan, I hereby remove the title of Acting Successor from you. I sentence you to fifteen lashes with thirty minutes before healing is permitted. Yanna, you are sentenced to the same. Do either of you wish to say anything?”
Sondan stepped forwards. “I will accept Yanna’s punishment. And I wish to apply to marry Yanna.”
Lord Eredan nodded. “Yanna, do you accept Lord Sondan’s proposal?”
“Yes.”
God, that was said through gritted teeth. Pregnant by him or not, this didn’t look like the happiest of starts.
“Assuming there’s no barrier to your marriage on the basis of consanguinity, your betrothal is approved.” Lord Eredan shook his head at Sondan, eyes hard.
Sondan stared straight ahead, grim-faced, his easy manner and graceful posture replaced with tension. Lady Talia usually sat on the back row, but still within sight if he turned his head. I sneaked a peek at her. She was raining death stares down on Sondan. If she was going to object to the marriage, now would be the time. Presumably, she either didn’t want to marry him or knew Yanna had the better claim on him, and wasn’t about to shame herself in public by confessing she was also sleeping with him. It would be hard for her to find a high-ranking husband if she did. Even an open secret could be plausibly denied.
“Lord Gaedan, you have the opportunity to administer the whipping if you wish,” said Lord Eredan.
He did. Sondan would get his fifteen immediately after the Council meeting had finished
and Yanna’s fifteen the following day. Since he was no longer Acting Successor, he moved away from the chair and retook his old seat a few rows back. Lord Eredan glanced across to his son, still standing in the wings.
“As Lord Sondan is no longer Acting Successor, and since we are no longer on a war-footing, I move that we vote in a new Elected Successor for a period of five years. The only three Guardians senior enough to stand are Lord Sondan, Lord Gaedan and Faran. Lord Sondan is not permitted to stand for election. Lord Gaedan, do you still wish to stand for the post?”
“I do.”
Faran walked towards the Council benches. He wore full dress leathers in black and looked magnificent. Although the trousers were similar, the jacket was longer than combat wear – reaching almost mid-thigh – and fitted, emphasising the breadth of his shoulders and trimness of his waist. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back. I winked at him, making him chew the inside of his cheek, his eyes full of the laugh he tried to stifle. Lord Gaedan joined him, and Faran straightened, reinforcing their height difference.
“Lord Gaedan,” Lord Eredan asked. “Who speaks for you?”
“Lord Elwen.”
“Faran. Who speaks for you?”
“Lady Morgan.”
He shot me a quick glance of reassurance. I raised my brows, a stab of jealousy piercing my solar plexus.
The two advocates flanked their candidates. Lord Elwen spoke first.
“Lord Gaedan is a loyal Guardian and has shown great strength and prowess. The house of Hadwen has been in power for too long. It’s time for a change, and Lord Gaedan will provide both the variety and stability that is needed.”
“Lady Morgan?” said Lord Eredan.
“Faran is both an experienced warrior and a diplomat. There’s almost no one in this hall who could match him, in strength, loyalty or decency.” She shot a glance at Lord Gaedan on the last word. “Most recently, Faran has helped to clear the demons from The Realm, including the ringleader, Aegyir. No other Guardian standing for this post can include this in their list of accomplishments.”
The discussion moved to the arguments against each candidate.
“Lady Morgan claims no one can match Faran in strength, loyalty or decency,” said Lord Elwen. “He’s married to a convicted traitor. He’s the best friend of a convicted adulterer and was himself recently whipped for disobedience. Are these really the traits the Council is looking for in a leader?”
Lady Morgan smiled sweetly. “Lord Elwen says that Lord Gaedan has shown great strength and prowess. When? How many demons did he kill? None. He may be able to offer variety from the house of Hadwen, but stability? He cannot command respect in his own marriage. How is he to command respect in the Guardians or in The Realm?”
Ouch.
The final statements were rebuttals of the arguments against the candidates.
“Lord Gaedan was more than willing and able to kill demons; there was merely no opportunity to do so.” Lord Elwen sounded flat, as if he knew he was fighting a losing battle. “He acted swiftly and decisively when he learned of his wife’s infidelity. He was the injured party, not the perpetrator.”
“Lord Elwen questioned Faran’s suitability on the basis of his wife, yet does not seem to feel that the actions of Lord Gaedan’s wife reflect on him,” said Lady Morgan archly. She eyed me coldly. “Lady Aeron has shown great loyalty since her return and was instrumental in the trapping and destruction of Aegyir, at considerable risk to her own life. Only a fool would dismiss Faran as a potential leader on the basis that his wife was once a traitor.”
Her words surprised me. Did she genuinely have some respect for me? Or would she be straight back to trying to get Faran to leave me if he was Elected Successor again? I didn’t fancy her chances much.
Lady Morgan and Lord Elwen returned to their seats, and the Council cast their votes. Faran stood tall, looking every inch the leader he’d been when I’d first returned. He won by a significant majority, but I knew he’d have made a mental note of everyone who’d not voted for him.
“Faran, you are duly appointed Elected Successor.” His father ushered him to the chair next to mine. His old chair.
I raised a brow. “Lady Morgan speaks for you?”
“It had to be someone senior, and if Father spoke for me it would be seen as nepotism, and if you spoke for me it would be seen as biased. You can’t accuse Lady Morgan of being biased towards me after what happened between us.” He gave me a sly smile.
The Council meeting turned to the topic of what to do with the carcasses of the demons and the vessels in the vault. The Senior Librarian, Kristen, was called to give evidence. She’d scoured all of the books describing how the demons could be destroyed by the stones, and the consensus over what to do with the remains was that they should be burned, preferably on a hill so that the smoke would be dispersed by the wind and not trapped in a valley. The ashes should then be disposed of in fast-flowing water, again so that they would be widely dispersed. Someone wondered if the carcasses could be taken Outside and burned there so there would be no risk to The Realm, even if the smoke was not fully dispersed. Although quite a lot of the Council seemed in favour of the idea, it was eventually discounted on practical grounds, much to my relief. The Council agreed that the carcasses would be taken to a nearby hill as soon as the meeting finished and burned on a pyre. Villages affected by the demons would be invited to witness it.
Good public relations? Show the provinces what the Guardians did so that they stopped being so troublesome? It would take more than that to resolve the issues.
“What’s happening to those demons that weren’t destroyed?” asked someone from the back.
“They will stay in the vault, in vessels,” said Lord Eredan.
“Could Lady Aeron not be sent back Outside to get more stones?”
Lord Eredan’s gaze settled on me and he arched a brow.
“I’m more than happy to go Outside to try to locate more stones if the Council wants me to, though I removed all of the seam I found. But may I request that those who want me to go, accompany me so that they can see the difficulties involved? And perhaps they should also be the ones to choose who is to be sacrificed to allow the demons to have form.”
There was a low murmur around me.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Happy to risk my life. Less happy to risk your own.”
Lord Eredan snorted next to me. A quick vote was held and defeated unanimously. No one was prepared to be sent with me.
Maybe I should take a day-trip Outside sometime and try to find more stones, just in case. See if I was wanted as a murderer, while I was at it. Let my friends and family know I was okay?
Lord Eredan clearing his throat jolted me back to the room.
“It pains me to inform the Council of the death tolls as a result of the recent battles. We’re still awaiting the full details from the provinces, but current estimates indicate that approximately ten per cent of the population of the provinces have died.”
I caught my breath. I had no idea the numbers were so high.
“Figures for the people of the city and for the Guardians are similar in proportion.”
Everyone looked at the empty seats around them. We’d all lost someone we knew and loved. A muscle ticked in Faran’s cheek.
Lord Eredan continued. “Despite the fact that the Guardians destroyed the demons and protected The Realm, there is still disquiet in the provinces. Perhaps more so now that the major threat that The Realm has faced has been destroyed. We need to discuss options.”
I raised my hand. Everyone would know what I advocated, but I needed to say it. Lord Eredan gave me permission to speak, and I stood.
“Thank you. What might be important to know is the distribution of the death toll. Have we lost all of the farmers, for example? The provinces were at boiling point over the distribution of resources. The city walls were breached. The argument from the First Lord was that the Guardians’ role was to protect The Realm. We d
id that. But that threat is now gone.” I glanced around the Council members. For once, several leaned forwards, interested in what I had to say.
“If the people storm the city again today demanding a different distribution, what’s our answer?” I went on. “We’ve killed or trapped all the demons. I’m not arguing we don’t have a role. Who knows what the next threat to The Realm will be? We might live in peace for years; we might have hordes of other foes breach the portal tomorrow. But I do believe there needs to be greater communication between the Guardians and the provinces. They don’t know what we do, and I bet that half of you have no idea what’s involved with getting crops in or looking after animals. None of us has mined ore or worked in foundries.”
“What do you suggest?” asked Lord Eredan.
I hesitated. Despite their curiosity, no one would like my proposal. “That there’s some representation of the provinces on the Council.”
Muttering filled the room. Even Faran raised a brow at me.
I held my hands up for quiet. “Everyone says that we are all equally important, and because we have our own roles, everything is provided, whether you’re a Guardian or a farmer. Everyone has a house, food, clothes… so why do only Guardians make the rules? Why do you ask for advice from the Seers and the Senior Technician and the Senior Librarian, but never ask the provinces? Can’t you see why this makes them feel as if they are less important? You decide what the distribution of resources should be, without ever actually asking the provinces about crop yields or availability of leather or metal or anything.”
“She has a point.” Faran’s first words as newly appointed Elected Successor. “Why do we never ask the farmers if the demands for food we make are valid or not?”
I smiled, grateful for his support.
“What’s your solution?” Lord Eredan faced his son, who deferred to me.
“That the provinces elect a representative of each of the major industries – farming, technology, mining, wood, textiles and so on. That these representatives have a place on the Council for a set number of years and that they advise the Council where appropriate. They would also be able to explain decisions made at the Council to the people in the provinces.”