“I believe you have enough time to finish your meal, Priestess.”
Good. Going into a long-winded meeting on an empty stomach was never a good idea. “Tell her I will join her, Piers. Where is the meeting to take place?”
“At the building across the street, Priestess.”
“I believe we can find it,” Rialt assured him dryly. “We will go in a bit.”
“Of course, sir.”
Jewel’s head cocked slightly as she heard the man’s light steps retreat back into the hallway. “I must admit, I’m not surprised Chantel wants me there.”
“Eh, I be no either.” There was a pause as Rialt ate something from his plate before he added, “I saw Chizeld last night, afore I came to bed. He said to tell you he has had to thump a few heads together, but he will get the full story today.”
She had wondered where’d he disappeared to this morning. “Did he seem pleased with his progress?”
“Looked to be in a right snit. I do no think he likes what he found.”
Oh dear. She let out a sigh and put her cup back down. “One problem at a time. Let’s focus on Chantel first.”
“Eh, no sense borrowing trouble afore we need to.”
They finished breakfast in peaceable silence before leaving the table and venturing across the street. Jewel absently hoped that she wouldn’t need her seal to prove her identity as Chizeld still had it.
It turned out such a thing wasn’t necessary. Chantel met them at the front steps of the building.
“Jewel, thank you for coming.” Chantel came close enough that a puff of her perfume wafted against Jewel’s face. Her voice lowered to a more confidential tone as she continued, “I probably won’t need you to say anything. Just your presence alone will help. They’re under the impression that the high priestess of an Order is also a person with a great deal of political power.”
“They’re not far wrong,” Jewel agreed with a rueful shake of the head. “Will we or nil we, political power seems to come with the job.”
“Apparently so. Regardless, I thought that having two of us will nail my message home nicely. Well, let’s go inside. Rialt, there are several chairs that are arranged right behind the floor’s podium. Just guide her there.”
“Will do.”
She gathered the impression of polished stone floors, very tall ceilings and a long, drafty space. The chill air and the way the sound of their footsteps echoed told her that she was in a hallway.
She felt a puff of displaced air as a door opened. The quietness of the hall disappeared without a trace after she stepped into the room. Here, many male and female voices were speaking, overlapping and sometimes raising their voices to be heard over each other. The abruptness of it made her flinch instinctively.
“Alright, lass?”
“I didn’t expect so much noise,” she explained. “How many people are in here?”
“Hmm…let us see.” Rialt didn’t speak for a long moment as he did a quick count. “I see sixteen.”
“Twelve of them are on the council,” Chantel said from just ahead. “Two of them are the clerks of the Hall of Records, here to record the meeting, and the others are all aides of the City Office. Normally, all twelve are not in attendance for a single issue.”
But they were today. Jewel had a sinking feeling that meant Chantel was going to be facing a lot of opposition.
The conversations faltered at their entrance and then seemed to double all at once. Jewel had been around politicians long enough to not be surprised by their reactions. She kept her mouth shut and her face a mask of serenity as Rialt guided her across the room and into a chair. Bortonor seemed to take a cue from his mistress and sat down next to her feet, not moving an inch from the sentinel pose he adopted once he settled.
A loud clang reverberated through the room, making Jewel’s heart jump. She recognized the sound instantly—a wooden mallet against the podium.
“Let’s call this meeting to order,” a gruff voice called out to the room. Jewel pegged him as a pipe smoker just on the quality of his voice. “Everyone in their seats, please. Clerks, note the date and time as we begin the proceedings. Priestess Chantel Moltabon of Veris has come to us with a petition. Priestess, the chair recognizes you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Chantel responded serenely. “I believe there is a draft of my proposal in front of you, so I shall not go into the details just yet, but allow me to state an overview. As you may know, I have been recently called as the High Priestess of Veris and—”
Jewel tuned out this opening speech, as she had heard it all before. Chantel and Sarvell had been hashing out what needed to be said and Jewel had heard every possible variation of it yesterday. Instead, she turned her head slightly and murmured to Rialt, “How does it look?”
“Four of ‘em look right grumpy,” he whispered back in a threadbare tone that she could barely hear. “I do no think anything she says will make a dent. A few are listening hard, but the rest have specious smiles on their faces and nodding like fools. It be a hard crowd she has to sell to.”
So, Chantel had called it true. But she didn’t have to win over all of them—just the majority. Seven votes and they would be able to move that crystal. “Does she have seven?”
“Three, it seems to me. Mayhap four.”
Jewel started praying for a miracle.
She listened in silence as Chantel started trotting out numbers and figures and trade percentages. The argument was well laid out (as it should be after all of the work and preparation) but the responses and questions from the council were not favorable.
Jewel had no concept of how much time had passed. Her backside had turned numb from the hard wooden chair she sat in and her stomach started grumbling complaints about neglect. If they’d been sitting for less than three hours, she’d be very surprised.
Rialt’s chair creaked slightly as he leaned down to murmur in her ear, “She’s swayed some of them. I count five on her side now.”
Five was not seven. “I’m going to have to step in.”
“Eh, belike.”
Why did it always come down to this? With a shake of her head, she gained her feet and walked forward. She’d heard Chantel’s voice for so long that she knew exactly how far to walk to reach the other woman’s side. When her hand touched Chantel’s back she stopped and raised her voice. “I request the Chair’s permission to speak.”
“Are Jewel Jomadd, High Priestess of Ramath, are not?” the chairman asked slowly.
“That is correct.”
“Have permission, Priestess. It is always a pleasure to hear from Elahandra’s chosen.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t count on the ‘pleasure’ lasting for long. “Councilmen, you know who I am, but do you know why I’m here?”
A woman’s voice answered, clear and precise. “To move Veris’s crystal is what was told.”
“That is it precisely,” Jewel agreed. “I am not sure how much you know of the barrier and the crystals that power it, so allow me to give you a basic explanation. The crystals of each clan were placed in such an alignment so that they could fuel and balance each other. All crystals must be in the correct place for them to power a barrier. They also must be in place for any crystal to be charged. Such is the way that Elahandra created them. Councilmen, I put to you that the barrier will fail in the very near future because two crystals are not in the proper position. The Veris crystal is one of those two. It must be moved.”
“This is surely not the emergency it is made out to be,” another man protested. He had protested more than the others, proving himself to be more vocal in his opinions. “These crystals have been out of position for over two hundred years, after all.”
“The crystal of Thornock has mere months before it loses all energy and fails,” Jewel reiterated firmly. “When that happens, the Daath are poised to take advantage and march instantly. The High Priestess of Bryn assures me that she has been seeing Daath scouts for months, scouts that are testi
ng the barrier’s weakness even this far south.”
A wave of murmurings and unhappy tones swept the room at this point.
Chantel cleared her throat and spoke loudly enough to drown out the mutters. “I am Veris’s Priestess and so my focus is the wellbeing of this clan. A new bridge, built to accommodate the new influx of trade, would benefit everyone in Veris. That is why I posed this proposal to you first. But if we don’t build a new bridge and move the crystal, then by this time next year we will not have anything left to trade.”
“This doom are prophesying is too much,” a boisterous man boomed out. “The Daath have no interest in Veris!”
“No interest in a trade city that sees more wealth and goods than any of the other clans?” Jewel shook her head at the notion. “Great heavens, you should be more worried than any other clan. After the Daath have conquered Ramath and Thornock, you are the next easiest target.”
“Priestess is hardly schooled in the art of war—” someone interjected in an amused tone.
“Perhaps at first, but my armsman is a veteran Ramathan commander,” she riposted curtly. “This is his expert opinion that I am restating. You are the next target after Thornock falls. It’s a simple matter of geography. The Honorvar River leads directly to your doorstep, ladies and gentlemen. For an army far from home, who is need of supplies and money to continue their campaign, you are the perfect target. It would take a mere two weeks for them to float downriver and launch an attack at you. It would actually take them longer to attack Bryn or Jordia because they’d have to march over land. Do you dare risk it?”
A loud bang resonated around the room, as if someone had just slammed a hand against the desk. “The girl’s right. Armsman, are the Ramathan Priestess talking about?”
“I am,” Rialt drawled from behind her.
“How long before troops arrive here?”
“Jewel says six months at most for the barrier to fail. I say, there be already weak spots. If they be no at your doorstep by early next spring, I will eat my boots.”
That made the room explode with noise. Jewel grimaced, her head jerking back at the wave of sound. Really, why did people yell like this? No one communicates at the top of their voice.
The mallet slammed down again, three times in sharp concession. “Colonel Beld, do share this military assessment?”
The same man that asked Rialt his opinion answered, “Not sure about the timing, as need more intel to form a good opinion, but Ramathan’s right in the way Daath troops come down. More than goods can come down the river.”
“For the sake of Veris’s future in trade, we need a larger bridge,” Chantel stated in a firm voice that echoed in every corner of the room. “For the sake of Veris’s people, we must tear down the old bridge so that we can move the crystal.”
The chairman gave a lusty sigh. “Priestess, it is not as simple as claim. It’s not just a matter of removing the old bridge. A very large, specialized crew will be needed to move that crystal from its position.”
“No,” Jewel refuted with a quirky smile playing at her mouth. “We won’t need more than a few men for the job. Chantel and I can handle the rest.”
For once, her remarks were met with incredulous silence instead of an outbreak of noise.
“Priestess,” Colonel Beld ventured slowly, “how will just two women manage?”
“I moved the Ramathan crystal by myself,” she informed him smugly. “The High Priestess of Bryn and I moved the Bryn crystal by ourselves. I assure you, with our ability, we can move the crystal. All we’ll need is some climbing harnesses and a few men to help lower us down and back up again. Moving the crystal is not your problem. That is our task. All we ask you to do is deal with the bridge.”
A ponderous silence fell. Jewel dearly wished she could ask either Chantel or Rialt for a summary of everyone’s reactions as just listening to them breathe didn’t really tell her much.
Finally, the chairman said, “A vote is in order. For all that vote to build a new bridge?”
Fabric moved in near sync, so close that Jewel couldn’t count the different sounds quickly enough. At her best guess, she thought at least five raised their hands.
“Opposed?”
Another swish of fabric, too swift for her to peg. Six this time, perhaps?
“Six for and six against. As Chairman, will break the tie. While do not like the sudden expense of a new bridge, it is true this council has been discussing the need for it for the past several years. Do not see why cannot adjust to prevent future problems. Vote that abide by Priestess Moltabon’s proposal. Motion granted. Let the record reflect that the motion was carried by a seven to six majority. Priestess Moltabon, request attendance for an emergency meeting this afternoon to discuss the timetable for this project.”
“Of course, Chairman,” Chantel responded, practically oozing charm.
The mallet struck squarely. “This session is dismissed.”
Chapter Twenty-three
There were times when Jewel didn’t need eyes, ears, or any tactile sense to tell her the mood of a person. Even without them saying a word she could tell what they were feeling.
Chizeld came in with all of the presence of an encroaching storm. He didn’t slam the door open or anything of that nature, but his boot heels had a sharper rhythm than usual and the way he moved indicated that he was furious and trying to control it.
She had been discussing a list of needed supplies with Rialt and Sarvell but at his entrance into her room, she paused. “Chizeld?”
His breath hissed out between clenched teeth. “Jewel. Not good news.”
Biting back a wince, she gestured him into a nearby chair. “Alright, I’m braced. What did you discover?”
“Not just Warlord Huero that ordered Guard home,” he informed her curtly. “Three other councilors did as well.”
Now she did wince. “So that’s how they did it.”
“Lass, care to explain?”
“If, for any reason, the high priestess is indisposed or not there to give orders, the council in Thornock has the power to do so,” she explained. “But only if at least four councilors sign the orders. They must have caught my predecessor at a moment when she was technically unable to give orders.”
“Eh, and they be belike the reason why she could no give ‘em,” Rialt grumbled darkly.
“Most likely,” Chizeld agreed. “Gets worse. While there, investigated the state of the whole guard. Out of one hundred, only fifteen are trustworthy.”
“Fifteen,” Sarvell said painfully neutral.
“Fifteen,” Chizeld bit off. “And out of those, two should have already been retired!”
Jewel stood up to pace in an agitated circle around the table. “This is not good. The Rounsefell Center is the origin for most of the Red Guard. If a priestess is unable to recruit armsmen from her own territory, it’s here that she turns. With four new high priestesses called…”
“Everyone will need to call at least some armsmen,” Sarvell finished on a long groan. “Alright. How should we handle this?”
Jewel thought about it for a moment but no immediate answer came to her. “I don’t know. Elahandra didn’t mention a word of this to me. That could mean that this problem can wait until after we’ve got the crystals back in place. Or that could mean that she’s designated someone else to take care of the problem.”
A long silence descended on the room as everyone pondered the situation.
“Chizeld…” Rialt ventured slowly. “You said you found fifteen. How could you tell? You have only been at it two days.”
“Some had mantels, the rest didn’t.”
“Ho. So it would be a simple matter to dismiss the bad ‘uns.”
“Yes, quite simple with Jewel’s authority.”
“Lass, why no at least clean house while we be here?” Rialt suggested. “Otherwise, when yon priestesses call in for help, they will get the bad with the good.”
That would help at least a little.
She blew out a breath. “Alright. I think we should send couriers to the others as well and tell them what the situation is here.”
“A good thought,” Rialt endorsed. “So, clean house today, ride tomorrow?”
“Now that the plan’s been approved, I don’t see why not. Sarvell, go shopping with Rialt and make sure that we have everything. I’ll go with Chizeld to the Center. While I’m out, I’ll pick up more money from the temple here.”
“We are a bit light in the purse,” Sarvell agreed. “Alright.”
Rialt was not so easily convinced. “You sure there be no danger?”
“If a Guard raised a hand against a priestess, Elahandra would strike the man dead on the spot,” Chizeld assured him. “Assuming this sword didn’t find first.”
“Good man. Still if the dastards give you trouble, come straight back.”
Jewel didn’t think there was anything to worry about. Chizeld was right. The day that a priestess had to fear her own guard, well…such a day didn’t exist. Elahandra really would strike them dead if they tried.
She stood and extended her hand to Chizeld. “Let’s go.”
~*~*~*~
The Red Guard Center had a prime location near the center of Rounsefell. Since Chantel’s home did as well, they only had to walk a short distance before reaching the right building. Chizeld charitably gave her a quick description of the place as they walked up the front steps—a simple three story structure made of brick, stretching out in a cross formation. She could hear sounds of men training and the clash of metal and wood coming from the back of the complex. Not unusual for a Guard to be training in the middle of the day.
The moment they entered through the door, the air went from being pleasantly warm to slightly cool. This building had stone floors from the sound of it, but the way it grated against the heel of her shoes told her that they weren’t polished floors. This place had been built for practicality and not show.
“Sanhan Lorin,” a young male voice nervously greeted. “Are, ah, not done with inspection?”
Midnight Quest Page 27