On the way back to the Orillon Tower, I couldn't help wondering if I'd done the right thing in persuading Petrovich to release the cargo. After all, I knew precisely what Leith's Trade contact had been trying to do—prevent further killing—and, as a Mediator, I was supposed to be working toward the same end. Putting blasters in the hands of the Halex was not likely to stop the fighting—but it might give Alkres what was rightfully his. And yet, Alkres was still a fifteen-year-old boy. Even if he did win back the genarchy, wouldn't that just guarantee more fighting, as people fought to control him? Maybe not—probably not, I told myself. There are mechanisms for choosing guardians . . . all of which involve the Branch Holders. I couldn't help remembering what I'd told Alkres, back on Orestes: neither law nor justice was everything, and sometimes keeping worlds intact was more important than either. Was I just making things worse by fighting for Alkres's rights? There never were any easy answers to questions like that, and in the end, I fell back on the only justification I could give. What was happening was wrong, and should be stopped; I would do what I could to end it. Besides, if I hadn't acted, Leith would have, or Guil. And maybe, I told myself, just maybe, the Ship's Council would decide in Alkres's favor.
Sunset was cloudy, the distant sunlight glowing through a break in the clouds just above the horizon, Agamemnon's ghostly shape barely visible behind the milky screen. It had stopped snowing the day before, but the Closed Sea shone eerily white under the new coating. It had been an unusually cold calendar-year, Signe had said; the greenhouses were hard put to keep up with the demands. . . .
I shook myself then, and reached for my overtunic. I was to attend the Council this time—Landret had found an obscure point of the law relating to minor heirs, and was certain he could convince the other genarchs that it applied in my case—and I had chosen my clothes with care. I could not hide my off-world origin easily, nor did I particularly want to, just in case I could use my Mediator's status to advantage, but at the same time, I couldn't afford to look too outlandish. There were some very conservative Holders among the Council members, and I didn't want to antagonize anyone. The house-steward had found me clothes of good material, but of sober cut and color, plain felty trousers and a knitted tunic whose only decoration was a band of fancier stitches across the shoulders. The dull reddish-brown—one of the colors of undyed hoobey fleece—was not particularly flattering, but it was at least unexceptionable. I leaned forward to study my reflection in the mirror for a final time, then adjusted the medium's gorget I had borrowed from Edlin around my neck. It was time to go.
The Orillon Patriarch attended most Councils by D-com link. The auditorium was in the lower levels of the Tower, as close as possible to the great generators that drove its projectors. It was a cold, rather unpleasant room, the harsh lights of the cameras seeming only to add to the chill, though I knew they would be hot enough before long. The technicians were there already, and had been for at least an hour, seated behind their horseshoe-shaped console in the far corner of the room. The attendees' bench—actually, chairs behind an elaborately carved table, draped with a bright cloth to hide Landret's legs—was at their right, facing the display tank. It was alive, light swirling like fog behind the glass, the technicians waiting for Landret's command to bring out the latent images.
The Orillon Patriarch was already in his place, leaning back in a chair that was almost as elaborate as a throne. Alkres, wearing clothes borrowed from Signe's child, sat at his right, his mouth set in a hard line that only just disguised his nervousness. Signe sat at her father's left, and there was an empty chair beyond her for the Tam'ne Holder. I took my place behind Alkres's chair just as the Tam'ne entered the room. I had not met Galar Tam'ne before, and I took advantage of the moment to study him discreetly. He was young to be a Branch Holder, perhaps even younger than Signe, but his good-natured face didn't show any awareness of that as a disadvantage. The Tam'ne symbol of three seaflowers arranged in a triangle was tattooed on his broad cheek—the first such tattoo I'd seen on Electra—but his thinning hair was cut quite short, rather than pulled into the usual topknot.
"I'm sorry to be late, sor," he said. "It's a long flight from the Base."
"You're not late, yet," Landret answered, and nodded to the technicians. "Let's begin."
The technicians adjusted their machines, and the fog in the display tank greyed slightly, taking on new depth. As we watched, ghostly shapes began to form—first the hard, dark lines of the genarchs' table, then the tier of seats where the Branch Holders sat. The Holders themselves were little more than shadows, but even as I thought that the images hardened and became real. I saw a technician give a discreet thumbs-up.
Landret cleared his throat. "Compatriots, we are met."
Shemer Axtell, who sat in the Arbiter's seat at the center of the long table, gave him a distinctly unhappy look. "We are met," he agreed.
"I protest." That was Halfrid Brandr, leaning forward in his place at the very end of the genarchs' table. "A point of order."
"State it," Shemer answered. I felt cold. I hadn't expected the Brandr to attack so promptly, or so completely without finesse. It did not bode well for the rest of the meeting.
"There is an off-wonder present," Halfrid answered, and tried unsuccessfully to hide a smirk. "This is strictly against accepted procedure, as Landret Orillon well knows."
Landret lifted a hand. "A point to the point of order, Shemer. The Halex Patriarch is still a minor, and as such is entitled to the presence of the advisors of his choice."
"Alkres Halex—who is not by any stretch of the imagination a Patriarch—" Halfrid broke off abruptly as a woman—the Jan Holder, by her tattoo—leaned forward to murmur something in his ear.
"Alkres Halex, whatever his status, is old enough to have accepted the code," the Brandr Patriarch continued. "He is therefore considered an adult."
"You can take the oath at twelve," Landret answered. "No one ever said twelve was adult, Halfrid."
The Brandr started to say something else, but Shemer laid his right hand flat on the table. "The point has been called," he said. "I put it to the vote: may the medium stay? Do you have objections, Halfrid?"
The Jan Holder leaned forward again, and the Brandr shook his head, scowling.
"Then I call the vote," Shemer continued. "I vote, for Axtell, aye. Brandr?"
"Nay."
"Fyfe?"
"Nay."
"Orillon?"
He had left out the Halex, I thought. Araxie Fyfe slammed her hand on the table, even as Landret said, "Aye."
"You haven't completed the call,"' the Fyfe Matriarch snapped. "What about the Halex?"
Shemer looked down his nose at her. "Ama, we're meeting to decide who holds that Mandate. You can hardly expect me to let either party vote."
Araxie subsided, scowling. Shemer glanced deliberately at the Brandr, but Halfrid had schooled his face into an approximation of unconcern. "Very well,"' Shemer said. "The vote is tied—two votes for, two votes against. As Arbiter, my vote decides. The medium may stay."
Halfrid leaned back in his chair, frowning, and Araxie muttered something under her breath. Landret folded his hands carefully in front of him, trying not to betray any satisfaction. I realized I had been holding my breath, and let it out slowly. It wasn't much of a victory, I knew that, but at least it was something. Certainly it was proof that Shemer Axtell wasn't going to let the Brandr have everything their way.
"To business," Shemer went on. "It has been charged before the Ship's Council that Eldrede Halex, late Matriarch of Halex Kinship, acted against code, breaking it grossly and in so many ways that the only possible remedy is their expulsion and the reversion of genarchy and Mandate to the Kinship's senior Branch, the Rhawn. In response, it is charged that the Brandr have acted outside code in their attack on the Halex Tower, which resulted in its destruction and excessive loss of life. Who will speak to the first charge?"
"I will," Halfrid said. My heart sank. It was bad that the
Brandr were geting to press their charges first, and worse that his accusation was phrased in such a damaging way. We—Alkres—had to prove not only that Herself had not broken the code, but also that the Brandr had stepped over the line themselves, and there had never been much of a prohibition on bloodshed in the code.
Halfrid spoke well, repeating and elaborating on the statement he had made over the Destiny comnet immediately after the attack. Eldrede Halex had constantly tried to destroy the code, first by winking at infractions within her own Kinship, and then by preferring the services of off-worlders to the work of Oresteians, or even of her own kindred. Alkres stirred at that, but said nothing.
"I attempted to check this behavior by the sanctioned means," Halfrid continued, "both in the Ship's Council and in the Kinship Councils, but without effect. Eldrede, backed by her closest kin and indeed by most of the mainline Family, persisted in her efforts to avoid the code." He paused, and nodded in Araxie's direction. "This is most evident in the incident which led to feud between our Kinships and the Halex. The Halex behaved in such a manner as to prove their disregard for the code."
Alkres made a choked noise at that, quickly bitten off, but Halfrid stopped, staring at him. Shemer said, after a moment, "Did you speak, sor?"
Alkres shook his head slowly, saying in his most innocent voice, "No, sor."
It was well done. I saw Asbera Ingvarr, sitting with the other Holders in the tier of seats behind the genarchs' bench, grin openly. Shemer passed a hand across his mouth as if to wipe away a smile, and said, "Continue, please."
Halfrid took a deep breath, but the rolling momentum of his speech was gone. "In our attack, we acted not merely to prosecute our feud, but to destroy a danger to our way of life. This is why I ask the Council to declare all surviving members of the mainline Halex to be code-breakers and as dead, and to confirm the senior Branch Holder as the rightful genarch."
"You can't do that," Landret said. "Wholesale death, for every living Halex? It's hardly reasonable—your own people up in the Tolands don't have anything to say about what you do, Halfrid, and you can't demand the same accountability from another Family."
"It's everyone's duty to uphold the code," Halfrid answered frostly. "It was their duty to stop her."
Shemer laid his hand on the table again, cutting off Landret's retort.
"Guilt and punishment are two separate issues. We'll decide on guilt first, if you please."
Halfrid subsided, looking pleased enough at having been able to air the suggestion. Shemer stared sternly into the cameras, so that it seemed he was looking directly at Alkres.
"Alkres Halex, as ult'eir and claimant to the genarchy, do you wish to answer these charges?"
I could see the boy's shoulders tense, but his voice was steady enough when he answered. "Yes, I want to answer them—though I hardly know how. They don't seem to make any sense."
I had to agree with him there, but I touched his shoulder discreetly in warning. He couldn't afford to lose his temper, especially not so early in the proceedings. His left hand closed into a tight fist, and I knew he'd understood.
"To begin at what I think is the first issue," Alkres began again, "it's true that Halfrid Brandr complained, oh, a dozen times, to the Ship's Council about breach of code, but in all but two cases, the Council said we were right. In those two cases, Herself—my grandmother—obeyed the decree of the Council, and was only assessed a fine."
We were on firm ground there, I knew. I had spent the past few days hunting out those statistics, and then making sure that Alkres memorized them. He was word perfect, but still he gave a quick glance over his shoulder. I nodded slightly, just as Halfrid said, "Even if those numbers are right, the actions of a truly law-abiding genarch would not have been questioned so often. And I think there were other instances."
Alkres hesitated, taken aback by the direct challenge, even though he knew the Brandr was in the wrong. I leaned forward a little and whispered, "You can ask the recorder for a ruling."
Alkres nodded. "Sor, Arbiter, I think that question could be settled better by the Recorder."
Shemer nodded, and gestured to the oldest of his Holders. The man touched a series of keys on his lapboard, then leaned back a little to study the results. After a moment, he said, "The boy is substantially correct. Fourteen accusations were filed over the last fifteen calendar-months, all by Halfrid Branch, and all but two were disallowed. Those two were considered to be minor, and were settled by fine."
Halfrid frowned, and Shemer said mildly, "That is the official record of the Council. You may continued, Alkres."
The boy nodded. "Thank you. So, my answer to the charge is that, if the Ship's Council didn't say we were code-breakers, it's not the Brandr's place to accuse us. Their attack was without justification."
Halfrid smiled slowly, and Araxie Fyfe said, "We were at feud."
"The question of off-world interference was never brought before the Council," Halfrid added.
"But you called in off-worlders, too, or you wouldn't've been able to take the Tower," Alkres retorted. "That makes you no better than you say we are."
Halfrid's smile widened unpleasantly. "We did not call in off-worlders," he said, with the air of a schoolteacher correcting a student's mistake. "We purchased some weapons from an off-world firm, purely in order to counteract Eldrede's riches—riches earned by prostituting her Kinship to off-world demands—"
"That's not true," Alkres cried, and the Halex Branch Holders muttered to each other. Even Yslin Rhawn looked annoyed.
Halfrid said strongly, riding over the protests, "We did not seek or receive any off-world assistance. There is no comparison."
I winced, recognizing too late the trap he'd set for us. By emphasizing the question of code-breakings, and insisting that it be settled first, he'd robbed us of our best weapon—the Brandr demand that the Rhawn be promoted to head of the Kinship. If the Brandr accusations were justified, there could be no question of Alkres's being wronged; Yslin Rhawn would logically and correctly be the new genarch. I had been counting on the sheer outrageousness of the demand to sway the other genarchs and Holders, but I had miscalculated. Now the whole thing turned on the legitimacy of Eldrede's off-world connections, and I knew how jealous the other genarchs had been of the wealth and foresight that let her form them.
"As for the attack," Halfrid went on, "we are at feud, and will be until the matter is settled."
Shemer laid his hand on the table. "The propriety of your attack is not at issue now. The question is, I believe, that of the activities of the Halex Matriarch."
Halfrid nodded, still smiling, and Alkres said desperately, "Sor, I'm not finished with my defense."
Araxie sighed audibly, and even Shemer frowned. Landret's face was frozen in a bored mask that I knew hid his concern.
"It's my right to call witnesses, isn't it?" Alkres went on. "And I have witnesses who can prove my grandmother just employed off-worlders—employed them just the way you employed off-world weapons, Halfrid Brandr. There's no difference."
It was a good try, I thought, detachedly, but I doubted it would work. I would say what Alkres wanted, of course—it was no more than the truth—but I was the only witness available. I wasn't even sure they'd let me speak.
"What witnesses?" Shemer asked.
"Our medium, Trey Maturin," Alkres answered, and Halfrid gave a cry of protest.
"An off-worlder, and a prime example of what I've been talking about. Shemer, you can't allow it."
"And others," Alkres said, but Araxie cut him off.
"Halfrid's right, the medium has no right to speak—no right to attend, for that matter!"
"That question has already been decided," Shemer said, with glacial dignity. "The medium may speak."
"I have other witnesses," Alkres said again.
I frowned, not knowing who he meant, and murmured, "Be careful, Alkres."
The boy didn't seem to hear. "I have more witnesses," he said, more insistentl
y.
Shemer said, "Name them."
Alkres took a deep breath, his thin shoulders moving visibly under his tunic. "The Branch Holders, my Branch Holders, who were there when the decisions were made, and know exactly what went on. You'll have to listen to them—and I charge you Holders, as Patriarch, to answer truthfully or face the code."
"Oh, Alkres," I whispered, almost to myself. If Yslin Rhawn were honest, it would have been a brilliant move—but the Rhawn Holder wanted the genarchy. He wouldn't even have to lie, either; he had always opposed Herself's pians. . . . I pulled myself together, aware that Alkres was speaking to me.
"Trey, will you explain to the Council just what your duties were with the Family?"
Halfrid smirked, not needing to say anything.
That did it. I threw away all caution and drew myself up to my full height, deliberately stressing the clipped off-world accent. "Sirs, I am a Conglomerate Mediator by training, employed by the Halex Kinship both as a mediator and as a medium, accepting the local definition of the latter's duties. By a mediator's standard contract, I am an employee of the Kinship—the Kinship considered as a corporate entity—and am bound by that contract to consider the Kinship's best interest at all times. You would know better than I what a medium's business entails; I've done my best to adhere to the model laid out for me in my contract." I took a grip on myself then, and went on, trying to choose neutral language. "My contract states quite clearly that I'm an employee of the Kinship—of the genarch." I started to add something else, but saw, out of the corner of my eye, Signe shake her head almost imperceptibly. I stopped, waiting.
Araxie said, "The testimony's meaningless, coming from an interested party."
"That's very bad logic, Araxie," Landret said.
"That's a matter for each of us to decide," Shemer said, sharply. He glared at Alkres. "And your other witnesses?"
"I ask each of you," Alkres began, "Barthel, Asbera, Yslin: you were there in the Kinship council each time my grandmother had dealings with off-world. Was she really 'prostituting the Kinship,' or was she just doing our business the only way she could?"
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