She stood beside the chair for a moment, and, as various groups in the room began to notice her presence there, the noise began to die down. The serving personnel retreated, and someone motioned for the musicians to cease playing. They wrapped up a sprightly little jig they had just begun, packed up their instruments, and disappeared out a side door. The ministers with documents rolled them up and stood quietly waiting. Guests began to sort themselves out and find their assigned places. Finally the palace steward crossed to the front of the room, resplendent in colorful attire and a feathered hat, and carrying a huge, official baton almost the size of a wizard’s staff. He positioned himself just beside the still figure of Jorelial Rey, rapped the baton three times loudly on the wooden floor, and called out in a formal, cultivated voice, “Hear ye, hear ye, one and all! The Grand Council Meeting of Eneri Clare, in the spring of the sixteenth year of the reign of our beloved late King Darian the second is now called to order. Presiding is Lady Jorelial Rey, eldest surviving member of the distinguished family Rey, and acting regent for His Young Majesty, Darian the third. If my lords and ladies will please take your seats, the Lady Rey will open with a formal welcome.”
Tvrdik, as an owl, was taking mental notes on everyone and everything he saw, as promised. Bargarelle, the palace steward, a short, rather pudgy man with a perpetually harried look, and a sheaf of papers clutched under one arm, was nevertheless reputed to be a genius at running the massive machine that was Theriole. He had assembled a crackerjack staff to which he delegated the execution of his orders, in every department. But, without his skill, his incredible memory for detail, impeccable sense of order, and tireless effort, the very center of government would grind to a halt. In addition, he was absolutely devoted to the Rey family, was very protective of Jorelial (despite his frequent overt frustrations at her sometimes unorthodox and disorganized behavior), and insisted on acting as her personal secretary as well – a task which had put a tremendous extra strain on his time of late. Just now, however, he appeared to be enjoying the honor and attention of acting as Master of Ceremonies.
Tvrdik watched as the company took their seats and a hush descended on the room. Jorelial Rey stood very still – straight-backed, chin lifted, eyes roaming over the assembled faces and meeting the gazes of friend and skeptic alike. How magnificent she looks, he thought. How confident and beautiful and strong. And, having been privy to her private moments of doubt, he felt a rush of pride at being so soon a confidante of someone he now could see was a major player on the stage of his world. After that came a wave of humility at how unworthy he felt of such an honor. For a moment he was the gangly, awkward teenager once again watching the privileged girl take off on her dragon – watching, it seemed, from a great distance. But then she was opening her arms in a gesture of inclusion, and he was back in the present, admiring her skill and aplomb.
Her trained, rich voice rang through the chamber, “Esteemed guests: my lords and ladies, ministers, delegates, guild leaders, Master Mayor – friends all – a most hearty welcome to Theriole. I pray your journeys have been easy and our hospitality sufficient (someone called out, ‘Hear, hear!’). You are assembled in this place today because you are all leaders in your respective arenas. You are the heart and soul of our beloved kingdom of Eneri Clare, the engine that keeps it moving into the future. Oh, she is good, thought Tvrdik. Begin with a bit of flattery.
The Lady Regent went on, “We are met here today so that together we might address matters of great import; matters the like of which this kingdom has never seen, and on which the future turns. I look around, and I see new faces to welcome, and familiar faces of good old friends, almost family. Many of you knew my beloved father – a truly great man taken from our midst well before his time… (she paused for effect, and many more voices shouted out words of affirmation. Tvrdik cooed and ruffled his wings). But all of you, all of us here now will be making history. I thank each of you for putting aside his own business, and making it a priority to be part of this day.
“The last time many of us embraced one another was not so long ago, at the funeral of our dear monarch and his bride, silenced in their prime by a cruel twist of fate. We face the possibility that their passing could bring to a close the reign of a dynasty that has served Eneri Clare well for generations. This royal family has kept us in peace and prosperity, rendered justice with fairness to citizens of every station, and made our kingdom a model of good government for so long that most of us do not remember war, poverty, or discontent except as the stuff of legends and history books. (Another pause…some shifting in seats). With one stroke of bad fortune they are gone, and we are cast adrift on a sea of fear and uncertainty. (A bit dramatic, perhaps, but effective, Tvrdik thought). But need we be thus alarmed and confused as to what the future holds?” She was pacing back and forth now, a habit of hers that Tvrdik knew well by now. “I say, no! No, brothers, we are still whole, for our royal tree has left us a sapling, healthy and straight, true son and heir of Darian and Marisa. Young he may be, and unseasoned, but already he favors his father, and in every aspect shines forth the promise of becoming a worthy successor to his forbears. I promise when you know this boy, you will love him as I do. And you will rest confident that he will grow, given time and good guidance, to rule, as his forbears did, with honor and wisdom.
“Good friends, it is my contention that, in gratitude for the peace and prosperity we have all enjoyed these long years, it is now our sacred duty as loyal subjects of this young king, and good stewards of his kingdom, to care for it, protect it, improve it where we can, grow and nurture it and return it to him at his majority in the condition his father left it, or better.” Her eyes were now fastened on Drogue, who darkly returned her gaze across the table, a frozen smile on his handsome face. She went on, “It is our responsibility as well to raise and educate, to guard and guide this young man, and to draw out of the raw materials of his nature the true portrait of the monarch he will no doubt become. It behooves us here and now to show patience, faith, good judgment, and loyalty in supporting his true claim, thereby insuring the uninterrupted continuity of Eneri Clare’s royal line.
“This day, we will each have opportunity to speak our minds and hearts. We will share with one another our reports on how the kingdom fares on all fronts. We will offer creative ideas on how to correct its flaws and celebrate its triumphs. We will decide whether and when to crown a king, and then we will put our heads together to choose someone who will stand at the helm of this ship until the day our king can steer on his own… (And here comes the big finish, Tvrdik observed, fascinated)... someone you deem wise enough, fair enough, firm enough, seasoned enough, and humble enough to sail boldly, but stay clear of storms; to rely on the counsel and expertise of all those who keep the vessel afloat, and to step aside willingly when the true captain comes on board. Whoever will inherit the job will find that it is a daunting, challenging, overwhelming, exhilarating, and ultimately rewarding task, not to be entered into lightly. But they will not have to undertake this burden alone, being buoyed up by the magnificent expertise of a brilliant Finance Minister (Tvrdik noted which attendees gave nods of acknowledgement as they were recognized), a veteran Commander in Chief, and an incomparable Minister of Justice. You have already met our remarkable Palace Steward, and there are a host of other players behind the scenes whose excellence and competence keep everything running smoothly. Whoever you choose will have the great blessing of this fine team to assist, guide, counsel, and on occasion, correct. I, personally, am ever in their debt and hope that together we have been able to deliver to you a State well-preserved during these last months.
“Today, I am here presiding on behalf of my dear father, a man whose quality most of you know, and of my family Rey. For centuries, the Reys have been first and foremost protectors, counselors and friends to the Crown. In my father’s absence, you can count on me to diligently discharge those duties as far as I am humanly able. I thank you for the confide
nce you have thus far showed in me in these trying times, and pray that I have earned it. My final obligation as interim regent is to insure that this Council does its job well, and that we all go home feeling we have worked together to insure the future for ourselves, our neighbors, our children, and for all of Eneri Clare. I begin by exhorting each one of you to leave petty differences, self-interest, greed, and intolerance outside of those doors there, and to reach deep inside yourselves for the very best of who you are, and what you believe to be for the highest good of all concerned. In that way, you show yourselves the great men and women that you are all reputed to be, and you do honor to your own family names and to the memory of our late, beloved king. Thank You.”
It was a fine speech, touching on all key points and stirring emotions, and quite masterfully delivered. Tvrdik screwed his owl head almost clear around in awe of Jorelial Rey’s persuasive powers. If the ovation she received was any indication of her success, he was not alone in his opinion. There were cheers and clapping as she came to her rousing finish, and many present sprang to their feet with a new respect on their faces. Lord Drogue did not. He sat in silence, reclined in his seat, smiling and tapping his applause lightly on the table top. Was the Lady Rey angling for the job of regent? Tvrdik knew that she would rather it go to almost anyone else. But there was no denying the strong impression she had made, and the mage/owl could almost feel the seed of an idea sprouting in many of the minds of those present. He could almost hear the gears and wheels turning in their heads. And it was yet early. She would be chosen, he was certain, and a good thing too. She had already proved herself capable, and he couldn’t imagine anyone doing a better job.
The morning labored on, speech after speech, some well-crafted and enervating, some pedestrian. Tvrdik kept careful track of who was who, and committed to memory his impressions of each. At one point he had to work hard to stop himself laughing out loud (and how would that have sounded coming from an owl?) to see how comically stereotypical the ministers appeared. Master Verger, the Minister of Finance, was a smallish, soft man with vaguely rodent-like features and a perpetual squint, he guessed from poring over figures all day. Tvrdik made a mental note to speak to him later about the miracle of spectacles. Perhaps they could invest together in a local cottage industry. The Commander in Chief, General Boone, was a simple, plain-spoken sort with graying, close-cropped hair, barrel chest, muscled arms and short, thick neck. One would not be likely to mistake this very pragmatic - looking character for a poet. The Minister of Justice, a man named Alanquist, was tall and lanky, with sharp features, a slightly hooked nose, and an expression that revealed him as a complete stranger to laughter. His head seemed overly large in proportion to the rest of him, as if his body were merely a vehicle to carry his oversized brain.
Colorful as they were, Tvrdik could find nothing to dislike in any of them. They all seemed devoted to duty and the Crown, and each seemed supremely competent, even ingenious, at his discipline. Besides, they all reported good news during Jorelial’s tenure as regent: revenues were up, trade agreements forged or renewed, budget balanced, capital projects begun, treaties shored up or newly negotiated, crime relatively low, highways safe for travel, some innovative public works programs on the drawing board. Despite the kingdom’s recent tragedy and resulting uncertainty, times were still good for most of the citizenry. There seemed to be a sense that what had happened had somehow drawn all of Eneri Clare together in solidarity, transcending the smaller issues that at times divide disparate peoples. In addition, an outpouring of support and sympathy from neighboring nations who were shocked at the terrible news, insured peaceful borders and friendly allies for the foreseeable future. It wasn’t that the precipitous loss of the royal couple was in any way a good thing – rather it was that with the proper handling of the situation, good could indeed come out of grave misfortune.
Hours passed, and the speeches and reports went on. The Lord Mayor was a jovial and somewhat theatrical sort. He had been a local businessman – an owner of several popular taverns. His ruddy complexion and ample girth suggested that he also partook of the wares that were his stock and trade. He spoke in a robust baritone, encouraging everyone present to make sure and allow time for spending their coin on goods and services in the nearby capitol city of Therin before heading back to the provinces they called home. This got a hearty laugh, though the young wizard was certain the man had hopes that many of the visitors would take him up on his suggestion.
The Farmers’ Guild expected a banner year for crops and livestock, assuming the lovely spring weather they had enjoyed thus far eventually succumbed to rain. The Merchants’ and Crafters’ Guilds all had equally positive news to share. Tvrdik found himself musing that the disciplines of Arts, Culture, and Education, as well as Wizardry (understandably) seemed woefully under-represented at this conference, if they were even mentioned at all. He thought of Mark and Delphine, their innovative plans, and the exciting conversation they had had on their first meeting. They had the right idea, he decided, and prayed that they would all live to see a future where the three of them could throw their lot in together and manifest their dream of a school.
Throughout the morning, whenever a speaker would wander into some longwinded extemporizing, Tvrdik would turn his attention to Lord Drogue, sitting stone-still, leaning far back in his chair with his feet rather disrespectfully propped on the table before him, one elbow resting on the arm of his great wooden chair, and the fingers of that hand curled in front of his mouth. His attention seemed riveted, but it was obvious that the cold flames dancing in his eyes had nothing whatever to do with crop reports or budget manifests. Hour after hour he sat without moving a muscle except for those fingers in front of his face. Tvrdik had never even met the man, but something felt wrong about him. A cold shiver ran through Tvrdik’s tiny bird bones, and for a moment, he felt with a certainty he could not explain that the man practiced some sort of sorcery himself, and not a kind that Xaarus approved of. Indeed, he could be weaving some sort of unholy spell at this very moment – some manipulation or mind control on a weaker cohort perhaps. With a flash of righteous indignation, Tvrdik threw out as much psychic shielding around Drogue as he thought he could safely generate without being detected. This had an immediate effect. Drogue broke concentration and shifted position, ever so slightly, glancing all about as if at an annoying insect. Aha! Tvrdik thought, ruffling his feathers excitedly, got him. Still, the thought that their adversary might also have some magic at his disposal was most disturbing, and sharpened his resolve to stay alert for anything unexpected. Two or three regional lords caught his attention as well among all those assembled. Their manner seemed somehow sullen, their body language pointing away from the various speakers instead of toward the proceedings. Their eyes darted to Drogue frequently as if they were watching him for some cue, or for instructions. Tvrdik made a mental note to find out from Lady Rey and Tashroth who these might be, and if they had reason for discontent, so that they could be closely watched.
As the reports drew to a close, and it neared the time when midday refreshments would be served, a motion was made and a vote taken to certify once and for all the Council’s intention to crown the infant prince ‘king’ as soon as possible. Jorelial Rey had been eager to nail down a public declaration that the leadership’s clear intent was for the boy to assume the throne, along with assurances that no other plan was on the table. The motion passed unanimously, as she had hoped. After her rousing speech that morning, invoking patriotism, loyalty, and sacred duty, no one would dare contest the succession publicly. Debate consisted of a few brief, florid words of affirmation from various delegates eager to position themselves as loyal subjects. After a bit more wrangling, a formal coronation was planned for just one week and a day hence, in order to make it official as soon as possible. Thinking practically, those from far off who wished to participate in the ceremony would not need to make a second expensive and arduous journey this season. They
might, however, just have time to send for family members, gifts, or supplies as needed. Of course, Jorelial had already consulted at great length with Steward Bargarelle, who considered the palace resources could be stretched another week to accommodate all the visitors, without severe strain. It seemed a fair and considerate solution, and as far as the Lady Rey was concerned, the sooner the better. Now, with only one important item of business left on the agenda, it was time to break for lunch.
The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare Page 19