“Yes. Below that it’s just the staff.”
“Right.”
“Once everyone here has adjusted, there’s going to be eleven sets of cousins moving out.”
“Eleven?” Edeard muttered in dismay as he pulled a chair over to sit in front of her desk. Jessile had said something about her father giving her a country estate, but that was as a dowry.
“Yes, and I’m the one who has got to find somewhere in our estate to put them all.” Kristabel rested a hand on top of a pile of folders. “These are details on lands and farms and vineyards and houses and other properties we own beyond the Iguru plain. Of course, they’re all currently occupied as well.”
“This is crazy,” he declared. “Families shouldn’t have to support so many … relatives.”
“Deadbeats?”
“I wouldn’t quite say that.”
“Actually, my cousins on the third floor aren’t as bad as the ones farther up. At least they knew they were going to have to move out someday. Most of them have had some kind of schooling, even if it’s not terribly practical. And a few are now seriously considering joining a guild; Cousin Dalbus has already arranged for a commission in the militia. It’s everyone else who can’t stand the idea of losing status, not to mention their place on the entitlement list.”
“Entitlement list?”
“Senior family members are entitled to money from the Culverit estate. The further removed you are from the succession, the smaller the amount.”
“Oh, Lady. So when I come along and marry you—”
“Actually, everyone’s entitlement stays the same until we start having children. Then they all get bumped down the list.”
Edeard grinned. “How many children are we planning on having?”
“Let’s put it this way; we’d need to have seventy before Uncle Lorin got disqualified.”
“People should always have a goal in life.”
“Edeard Waterwalker! If you think I’m bearing you seventy children—”
He started laughing. Kristabel tried to give him a cross look and failed. She smiled wearily. “Well, how many do you want?”
“I don’t know. I was an only child, so definitely more than one, but I agree, less than seventy.”
“All right.” She stood up. “We’ll resume negotiations after lunch. It’s a buffet, I’m afraid. The staff are all off voting.”
“Oh, dear Lady, how the senior family suffer for the good of the city. You’ll have to order your own genistars around next.”
“If you want to be capable of siring even one child, watch your mouth.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
They walked out onto the hortus, looking over the southwestern districts. Edeard’s arm instinctively went around her shoulder. The winds fluffed her skirt.
“Is Finitan going to win?” Kristabel asked softly.
“He must. Nobody in their right mind would vote for Owain. Surely people understand what he was trying to do with the militia.”
She pressed her lips together. “This is Makkathran. Anything can happen.”
“Have you been to vote yet?”
Kristabel gave him one of those looks. “No, Edeard. People like me don’t vote.”
“I thought everybody is entitled to vote.”
“Everybody is. But it’s considered bad form for senior members of Grand Families. We carry enough power as it is.”
“It was bad form to vote against our marriage consent bill. You could get one back on Bise by going down to the hall and voting.”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” she said automatically.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Is he still out there?”
“Bise? Yes. Him and his closest family have moved into one of the Gilmorn farms twenty miles away.”
“How do you know?”
“Argian has been doing what he does best and stretching his farsight for me.”
“I’m not sure I trust him.”
“Did you know the families have agents like him?”
“Daddy never said anything specific, but I’ve always known we were supposed to be protected in a way ordinary people weren’t. Things get done quietly if you need them to be. I suppose I will be introduced to the right people when I become Mistress.”
“I wonder who they’re loyal to in times like this.”
“The most conservative families; trust me.”
“You’re probably right.”
She cuddled up close. “You’re learning.”
They ate lunch on the hortus on a long stone table under an archway of flowering honeysuckle. Julan and Mirnatha joined them; the little girl was delighted to be able to pick her own food from the array of dishes the cooks had prepared the previous night, going back several time for slices of smoked hulfish and clotted cheese cream until her father told her she could have no more. She sulked for a while before collecting her pudding of toffee banana cake.
It was a lazy, pleasant afternoon that followed. Kristabel talked with her father about redistributing their family members from the third floor. Edeard finally began to gain an appreciation of just how widespread their holdings were.
The whole agreeable family scene gave him an insight into what the next century might be like, with his children having a similar discussion in another thirty years as they took over the ninth floor and more third-floor cousins prepared to leave. Such a thing gave him a sense of continuity, firming up the future from a few vague notions of trying to make life better; this was particulars, making solid plans for expansion and still better days. It was like nothing he’d known before.
Captain Ronark longtalked him in the middle of the afternoon. “Take a look who just showed up to vote in Lillylight.”
Edeard obliged, focusing his farsight on the Opera House annex where the Lillylight voting was conducted. Master Cherix was standing in front of a clerk who was running through the registry ledger. Edeard grinned at the lawyer’s distinctive mental signature. No mistake; it was definitely he. When he checked by using the city’s perception, he saw that Cherix was keeping his composure, waiting with apparent patience for the clerk to find his name. “I wonder where he’s been holed up?” The constables had been unable to locate him on the day of banishment; since then Edeard had had more pressing issues than tracking down the lawyer.
“What do you suggest we do?” Ronark asked.
“Let him vote. He only ever had an exclusion warrant against him because it was useful to me. They’ve all served their purpose. I suppose we should cancel the outstanding ones. And persecuting Cherix now would make me seem petty.”
“All right. I’ll longtalk the Lillylight captain.”
Edeard kept watch on the voting hall. After a couple of minutes the clerk suddenly found Cherix’s entry in the ledger and handed over his ballot papers. Edeard thought the lawyer looked surprised when it happened. He definitely looked relieved as he walked to the privacy booth.
Was it deliberate? Was Owain trying to stir up a little sympathy, or was Cherix just wanting to know where he stood? Lady, I’m on edge.
“Are you all right?” Kristabel asked.
“Yes.” He smiled reassuringly. Actually, if that’s the worst Owain can do today, I’m perfectly all right.
Edeard was back at the Jeavons public hall when the Grand Master of the Guild of Clerks stood on the Orchard Palace balcony again to announce the end of the voting. He watched the clerks sealing the slots on the voting boxes, signed the dockets to say he’d seen it, and watched as two squads of constables carried them out. Dinlay was assigned to accompany them to the Orchard Palace.
“Eighty percent turnout,” the Master of clerks said as he picked up his own papers.
“High, then,” Edeard said.
“I’ve never known that many voters to bother before, and this is my twenty-second election.”
“A good sign, then?”
The old Master gave him a dry smile. “For someone.”
There were a couple
of hours between the time the voting officially ended and the time the counting began. Edeard took a gondola down to Sampalok. It was all right now that voting was finished; there were no political consequences to his visiting.
The gondola dropped him off at the Mid Pool concourse, and he made his way along Zulmal Street. The families that lived along the street gave him a guarded welcome. As always, his footsteps slowed as he passed the baker’s where Boyd had been shot. Just about all the shops and businesses had reopened, helped by money from the Diroal family’s fortune. It was the same across the district; most of the damage from the riots had been repaired. Commerce was back on its usual uncompromising path.
When he finally reached the central square, the new hexagonal mansion was over twelve feet high and the second story was forming under the first that had grown up. According to his design, there were another six to come, each one larger than the previous, giving it a stepped outline. At a conservative reckoning, it would be another four months before it was complete. That was why the new Master and Mistress had set up their temporary home in the Bea’s Bottle tavern on the south side of the square.
Edeard waved cheerfully to the tavern’s landlord as he walked in. After the first couple of days the man had come to accept the situation, especially as it meant renting out every room he had to the clerks who were sorting out the Diroal family finances and providing them with food and drink, along with everyone else who came visiting the new Master and Mistress—and there were a great many.
Macsen and Kanseen had taken over seven rooms on the fourth floor. One had a balcony overlooking the square, where they could watch their new mansion rising. Edeard found them sitting there sharing a bottle of white wine. When they offered him a glass, he took a look at the label. With Kristabel educating him, he’d come to recognize quality. “Nice,” he said appreciatively, and took a sip. “Definitely.”
“Yes,” Kanseen said, and stretched out on her chair. “A girl could quite easily get corrupted by this life.”
Edeard took a look at the boxes and bags piled up in the room behind the balcony. The shop names were from many districts, all frequented by the women of Grand Families as they commissioned their exclusive clothes. It wasn’t just wines he was becoming familiar with these days. “Nice to see you’re rising above it.”
Macsen chuckled and raised a glass. “There are certain expectations. District Masters must act the part.”
“And dress for it, too.”
“Yes, I was most careful with that; I made sure I used the same tailor Kristabel gets your uniforms from.”
Edeard groaned and gave up, taking a larger sip of wine as he settled into a chair next to his friends. “So how did the election go in Sampalok?”
“Relatively honest, I think,” Kanseen said. “No fights at the district hall, anyway. The constables had to step in to stop a few heated disputes over residency, but nothing they couldn’t handle.”
“Any idea which Representative got elected?” Edeard asked.
“Nope. You’re going to have to wait along with the rest of the city.”
“Lady! How do the candidates stand this?”
Macsen eyed him lazily. “Lady help us, what are you going to be like when you finally stand for Mayor?”
“I never will. Not now that I know what it’s like.”
“Ha!” Macsen took a sip of wine.
“I heard our old friend Cherix has crawled back into the public domain,” Kanseen said.
“Yes.” Edeard eyed the wine in the glass. “Life just wouldn’t be the same without him.”
“You need to watch that sentimental streak,” she said. “They’ll exploit that.”
“Who?” Macsen said indignantly. “There’s nobody left to reinstate the gangs. Owain is going to lose. The families will accept Edeard, and they’ll adapt as they always do. For them very little will change, but for ordinary citizens things will get a whole lot better. And best of all, Bise will slowly lose his influence along with his so-called friends. Argian told me his old allies are growing tired of him already. This election should see the end of him.”
“Lady, please let it be so,” Edeard muttered. “Did Bise manage to save anything?”
“Nobody knows,” Macsen said sourly. “The clerks have been reviewing the Diroal estate for two weeks solid, and all they can tell me so far is that it’s going to take years to track down every last farthing. A lot of it never will be recovered, I suspect. Bise and his ancestors were good at covering up the full extent of their holdings. Just like the rest of the Grand Families, they know how to avoid their full tax liability. It’s one of the principal reasons they all became so wealthy.”
“There will be funds he can draw on to keep him in fancy clothes and fine wines for the rest of his life,” Kanseen said. “In fact, it might be a good idea to let that be known among his old friends. I suspect the Gilmorns wouldn’t be quite so free with their coinage if they knew he had lands and money stashed away.” She grinned evilly. “Would you like me to tell Ranalee?”
Edeard tipped his glass at her. “I’ll think about it.”
“Even without a full inventory, we’re still incredibly rich,” Macsen said. “As are all the businesses that suffered during the riots. The clerks are still paying out compensation on a pro rata basis. I’ve heard it said that people are smashing up their own homes and claiming it happened during the riot simply to qualify for new furniture and clothes. There’s so much coinage flooding the district, it’s changing the whole economy. The pro-Bise candidates have been accusing you of trying to buy the election.”
“I hadn’t thought of it,” Edeard admitted. “I also didn’t think what spending all of Bise’s money would do to Sampalok. But as I suspect most of it was squeezed out of the residents here for the last few generations, I suppose there’s a kind of poetic justice to handing it back.”
“Except those who aren’t getting any compensation are resentful.” Kanseen sighed.
“Another noble gesture goes chronically wrong,” Macsen said.
“I didn’t realize how much half of the Diroal estate would be. Maybe the rest of the money could go into some kind of general fund to benefit Sampalok,” Edeard suggested.
“Ah, now you’re changing things, going back on your word.”
“Yes, but I didn’t intend to— Oh, Lady take them. It can wait until after the results. And then it’ll all be your problem, anyway.”
“Thanks for that,” Macsen said.
Edeard lowered his voice, casting a strong seclusion haze. “How are you two coping, anyway?”
“Just that,” Kanseen said. “Coping. We don’t have much Ladydamned choice. A whole load of Bise’s staff are lobbying to continue in their old jobs once the mansion’s fully grown. I don’t like the idea of using people who devoted their lives to the Diroals, but how else are we going to stop things from sliding back to how they were before? And when we sit on the local Council, we have to make fast decisions that’ll affect people’s lives without any reference to what went before. So far we haven’t hurt too many residents.”
“Sounds like you are in control and setting a good example. I can’t ask for more. How has the Upper Council taken your appointment?”
“Owain welcomed us like we’d been sitting there for five hundred years,” she said. “The rest just fell into line with that. Of course, there’ve only been three sessions since the riots. We’ll see what happens after the election.”
“It was so unbelievably sweet seeing my dear half brother’s face when I walked past him in my robes,” Macsen said with a faraway gaze. “I’m as rich as he is now, and I have a seat on the Council, which he doesn’t.”
“We have a seat on the Council,” Kanseen pointed out.
“Yes, dear.”
Her third hand gave him a sharp tweak. Edeard laughed at the wounded expression on his face. “Ah, married life. I have all this to look forward to.”
Kanseen narrowed her eyes and gave him a shr
ewd look. “And what about you? What are your grand plans?”
“It all depends.”
“Let’s just assume Finitan gets in tonight, shall we,” she said brusquely. “What do you do next?”
“Nothing dramatic,” he said, and gestured down at the square with its embryonic structure. “I intend to support Finitan because I believe he’s right. First consolidate the city, and to do that you need to implement the rule of law. It doesn’t take that much: The Grand Council let things slip, but the organizations and concepts Rah founded are still there. They just need revitalizing; that’s all.”
“People are generally happier now that the gangs have been beaten,” Macsen agreed. “You’ve shown them things can be put right no matter how bad they seemed. But Edeard, you also showed people what you are and what you’re capable of.”
“I’d never abuse the trust the city puts in me. You know that.”
“And hopefully the rest of the city will accept it, given time. You’re going to have to work on that.”
“I know. That’s one of the reasons I pushed Marcol into being a constable.”
“Yes,” Macsen said, sitting up and leaning forward with considerable curiosity. “I didn’t get that. I’ve talked to Dinlay. He says the boy isn’t really constable material.”
“I disagree. He’s trying,” Edeard said defensively. “He’ll make it to graduation; he’s got a huge incentive.”
“But why?”
“Remember when we all wondered why I’d been chosen by the Lady to do what I could do? What if I haven’t been chosen? What if, instead, her teachings have started to take hold? I mean really taken hold.”
“I can’t believe you of all people would say that,” Kanseen exclaimed. “We’ve spent a year down on the streets fighting those bloody gangs. They never followed her teachings.”
“The gang members didn’t, no. But what about everyone else? They all knew it was wrong, even if they couldn’t see a way out. Once I banished them, everything changed. You said yourself the city is a happier place already, and it’s barely been two weeks. The Lady’s teachings are everywhere; they’re an ingrained part of our culture now, here in the city and out in the farthest province. It’s the one thing that truly binds us, the one commonality. We all know instinctively that we should be striving to better ourselves, to live a more righteous life even if we don’t quite know how.”
The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle Page 135