by Patty Jansen
The council wouldn’t really order them to attack their own citizens, would they?
Ellisandra stepped forward. She drew the chain out from underneath her clothes. “I’m Ellisandra Takumar. I’m here as a member of Miran’s last Foundation family. By law, you are required to not only let me into the meeting, but to let me speak in the council.” Never mind that this only applied to the family heir. Two people joined her from behind: Jintho and Lihan Ilendar.
The doors to the hall were open and in the glimpse it gave Ellisandra of the stands, it looked like the council hall was already almost full.
The guards looked from one to the other. Oh no, maybe they’d been ordered to do so, but they didn’t look like they wanted to use those crossbows.
One who appeared to be a superior motioned for Ellisandra and the two men to walk through. “Only you, then.”
Lihan said, “Us three and as many of us as the hall will seat. The others will wait here patiently.”
Ellisandra followed him through the resin-panel doors into the assembly hall. The councillors sat along three sides of the hall in tiered benches. The fourth side, on both sides of the door, was for the public and claimants. A red-carpeted aisle led from the door to the centre of the hall, where the High Council’s table stood. It was empty right now.
The guard found some unoccupied benches. Besides Lihan Ilendar, Ellisandra chose Aleyo, Sariandra and Tameyo to come with her. A handful of others, mostly actors, also found seats, but most of the protesters had to stay outside. The buzz of voices that drifted in from the foyer suggested that they weren’t happy with this.
Ellisandra wasn’t happy with it, either. All the council meetings she had ever been to had been poorly attended. Who were all these people in the audience if not supporters of the changes in law?
In the aisle, the guards were attempting to shut the doors. “Step back, all, we need the doors closed or we can’t start the meeting.”
“We have a right to be here,” a man said.
“Sorry, the hall is full. You’ll have to wait outside.”
This was met with unhappy grumbles, but eventually the guards managed to close the doors.
The High Council came in from the door at the other side of the hall. Everyone rose.
Nemedor Satarin walked first, followed by Asitho Bisumar and then the other two, Eldan Hirumar and Jelindor Temanin. The latter was a bent old man with a walking stick and he took his time to walk around the table and sit down.
Everyone in the hall remained silent and standing.
Finally, the old councillor was seated and Nemedor Satarin gave the signal that people could sit down. He made a show of walking up to the speaker’s dais which stood in the very centre of the hall. He motioned for silence.
“Welcome to our first session of the council’s legislative sitting. We have a number of items to get through today. The most important item is the changes proposed in Foundation Law. It is the first time in twenty years that the law is to be upgraded, and it has become necessary for the sake of keeping our legislation up-to-date with modern practices and reflecting the current values of society.”
He read out a long list of sections of the law that they proposed to update. Most of those Ellisandra had also identified as being the ones that gave Foundation families powers that could limit the council’s decision-making.
While he spoke, Ellisandra found Enzo’s gaze in amongst the councillors, next to Raedon and a few rows behind Asitho Bisumar. He looked unhappy.
Nemedor Satarin finished with, “But look where these laws have taken us. Most of our hallowed Foundation families no longer live in Miran. This document pre-dates the Invasion and does not account for the possibility that a family would even consider leaving Miran. It does not account for Miran being at the beck and call of foreigners.”
There was some applause following this.
Ellisandra rose. “You call me a foreigner?” She trembled all over with nerves and excitement, and had to steady herself by putting her hands on the back of the seat in front of her.
Nemedor Satarin’s gaze found her in the crowd. “Ah, lady.” He bowed and gave her a playful smile. “You are not a foreigner, but you are also not a Foundation family heir.”
“But I am.” Lihan Ilendar rose next to her.
His appearance caused some talk and commotion.
Nemedor Satarin’s eyes widened briefly. Had he not known that Lihan Ilendar was in Miran? “You chose to leave Miran. You have no business getting involved in internal affairs.”
“The law sees it differently.”
“If we are going to stick to the letter of the law, it also says that you should be in possession of a Foundation stone.”
Lihan pulled out the silver chain. “I have this.” He held it up so that the stone dangled on the chain.
“Where did you get that? The stones were repossessed. That stone was illegally removed from the council premises.”
Ellisandra said, “My father, librarian of Miran, authorised their removal. The law proposals are illegal. You need to consult with us.”
“And we have.” He gestured to Enzo. “We have agreed that the Foundation families will be compensated for the loss of influence—”
“I’m not interested in compensation. I want to live in a country where someone can send the council home if they’ve lost the trust of the majority. I don’t have to be that person, but I want someone with integrity and with understanding of the responsibility to have this task. Someone who has sworn not to act in self-interest.”
“Unfortunately, lady, the deciding power lies with the family heirs—”
“And not with silly, deranged women? Because you have never listened to half the Mirani population—”
Some people cheered in the hall. Others protested. Someone shouted, “Calm down!”
There was a lot stumbling and thudding up in the audience stands, but because those seats were higher up, she couldn’t see the reason for the noise.
Nemedor Satarin cast an impatient look in the direction of the noise. “Can we take those troublemakers outside? I’m sure there are plenty of people who could sit here without creating a disturbance.”
“I will not be silenced!” a man shouted.
“Remove this rabble from the hall.”
Guards came from behind the council seating.
In that terrifying moment, Ellisandra realised that she had misjudged the council. They would use guards against their own citizens. Wasn’t that the definition of civil war? This was going to be a repeat of Changing Fate, only the victims would be Mirani.
“This is wrong!” she yelled, but her voice was lost in the shouting and stumbling. People were now trying to get out of the public gallery. Sariandra’s face had gone white. “They’re sending in the guards to remove us.”
All was lost and she would be Mariandra, forced to write about the council’s victory.
Traders were allowed to carry arms, and Lihan had taken his gun out of the bracket on his arm, under his cloak. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “Stay with me, ladies.”
Why did he say that? Why did every Endri man think that it was his moral duty to protect women as if they couldn’t look after themselves?
Ellisandra was going to protest, tell him that she wasn’t going to flee, that she wanted no violence, that she would climb over the partition that separated the audience from the assembly hall’s floor and talk to the High Council herself.
But the double doors to the hall burst open. One of the doors hit the wall with a loud bang. People fell silent.
A guard protested in the foyer. “But you can’t all just—”
A large group of people walked into the hall over the main aisle that led between the two halves of the public stands. Backlit by the glare of sunlight from outside, it was hard to see who they were, but the first were all guards dressed in sleek, dark grey, modern gear. Ellisandra couldn’t see their faces because they wore helmets, but by their shapes and
sizes, these were definitely not locals.
Following them were a varied group of people young and old, some of whom wore traditional Mirani clothing. With a shock she recognised Vayra at the front, dressed as Endri, as well as the man he had introduced as his father. Except he had washed the black dye out of his hair. It was now white, Endri white. And his eyes were no longer black but Endri light blue. No doubt remained in her mind that he was pure Endri.
Several people gasped.
“Hell, that’s Iztho Andrahar,” someone said behind her.
The man who had gone missing, the heir of the Andrahar family. He’d been here all along and Vayra had said nothing about it? He’d even sat beside her when she tried to contact the families? His father? The oldest son of the oldest son?
Behind the pair were two more Endri people, a couple, the man with his hair in a most peculiar hairdo, with a mixture of little plaits, glittering beads and loose strands cut at different lengths. He was accompanied by a woman with short hair and tattoos on her neck. Those had to be Rehan and his wife Mikandra Bisumar, Sariandra’s half-sister. Both of them wore Trading uniforms, not the khaki Mirani ones, but shirts and trousers of blue-green fabric that were much too thin for Mirani weather.
With them were two adolescents, girls both, wearing a simple version of the uniform but without the Trading medallion. One was Indrahui, with skin velvet black and copper-coloured hair, the other . . . was lithe and small. She had huge eyes and dark hair, patterned skin and . . . she had a tail, which waved behind her.
Behind them was an Endri man with long hair, a little bit wavy, and he walked next to a leather-clad Coldi woman who visibly carried two guns, one on each arm. This had to be Braedon and his Hedron guard wife Izramith Ezmi. There were two girls with them, the youngest one holding the woman’s hand, the older one adolescent. Both had almost luminous orange hair. Since when did Endri and Coldi have children?
Behind the family walked the elderly Endri matriarch, Isandra, her back straight, wearing a magnificent mottled cloak and a Mirani Trading uniform. Behind her was another Mirani couple, the youngest son Taerzo and his wife Calliandra Azthunar, with two young Endri men, identical twins, a young woman and two younger girls, also identical.
The group came to a halt, but Vayra progressed to the speaker’s dais in the middle of the floor in the company of the man he’d said was his father, and others said was the missing Andrahar heir. He pulled at something from under his clothes and held it up to the light. A plain river stone with encircling silver band.
The missing Foundation stone.
It was so quiet in the hall that you could hear people cough.
“On behalf of the Foundation families of Miran, on behalf of the people of Miran, on behalf of fairness and peace, I, Vayra Perling Dinzo Andrahar, veto the changes to Foundation Law. On behalf of the Mirani people, on behalf of my parents, Iztho Andrahar and Anmi Kirilen Dinzo and my entire family, I, Vayra Perling Dinzo Andrahar, dismiss the council, declare all seats vacant and up for re-election.”
A murmur of talk went up from the council benches.
Can he do that?
Is that still legal?
The murmur rose to voices of protest and consternation.
Vayra held his hand higher and the stone dangling from the chain caught the light. He had to shout over the talking to be heard. “Behold the Foundation stone you thought lost! We cherished this treasure from the day Foundation Law was signed and have never lost it from our sights. Nor have we ever truly left Miran. The Andrahar family is back!”
The audience broke out in shouts. Councillors got up from their seats. Guards approached Vayra, but his family’s guards closed around him. He continued holding up the Foundation stone so that everyone could see it. While he slowly turned around, his eyes met Ellisandra’s.
A wave of anger came over her.
He had deceived her and deceived all of the people in the theatre. He’d come here with only one aim in mind. He probably had led his entire life with that aim. Nothing else mattered to him. No wonder Isandra had given him the house: he was their weapon and Ellisandra had been nothing more than a tool.
The Mirani guards gathered on the aisle behind the family, and also around the councillors. A higher-ranking man was speaking to Nemedor Satarin. He then walked to Vayra and asked to see the stone. He went back to Nemedor Satarin. Several of the councillors spoke in angry voices, but there was too much noise in the hall to hear what they said.
When the family had come in, they had left the door to the foyer open, and the crowd that waited outside had entered the hall. These were the actors, the merchants, the builders who had camped out in the square overnight in the company of many newcomers.
Some guards were trying to get these people to leave, but there were too many of them and they simply ignored the orders.
Lihan Ilendar touched Ellisandra’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Go? Why?”
“You got what you wanted.”
“I haven’t gotten anything yet. Nothing is resolved and the High Council has not yet stepped down.”
“They will sort it out. It’s likely to get nasty.”
“Nasty suits me fine. I’m used to nasty.”
He took a step back, and looked genuinely puzzled. “I don’t understand. I’m concerned for your safety.”
“Yes, and thank you for that, but you don’t live here, and it’s not your fight anymore. The fight is ours, the younger generation.”
“What do you mean—not yours? Don’t you think that I would have preferred to stay in Miran if I could have?” He sounded so hurt that she felt sorry for having raised this. Lihan Ilendar was a respected man and it seemed he genuinely didn’t understand her anger, and genuinely thought he was doing the right thing by protecting the delicate ladies.
Which meant that once again, the important men expected to make the decisions over her head.
And no, she wasn’t going to smooth it over, and she wasn’t going to be quiet, or run to safety.
She shrugged off his hand and went down the steps, pushing onlookers aside. Some people were going the other way, trying to get out of the hall.
“Come with me,” she said to any of the theatre people she passed.
There was still a big argument going on in the centre of the hall.
Asitho Bisumar’s voice sounded over the noise, “You have no right to come here and tell us how to run our council. You have no legal right. Yes, we will fight this in whatever court you choose to bring it. We don’t recognise gamra law. Don’t even try.”
She felt cold. Nemedor Satarin wasn’t going to concede, even based on Mirani law. He would hold on until someone physically removed him from office. The only way he knew to hold on would be with violence.
The Andrahar family had brought enough guards to do damage, and she knew they had performed one raid into Miran before. They were here to remove the council with violence. And she was determined not to let this become another bloodbath.
“Let me through, let me through.” She pushed the guards aside.
A councillor gave an indignant cry. “But, lady, behave yourself.”
Ellisandra was through with behaving. She pushed right through to the speaker’s dais where the main body of the argument was taking place, and a scuffle had broken out.
Someone said, “You will step down from office, or I will remove you.”
That was Vayra, and he faced both Nemedor Satarin and Asitho Bisumar.
And a guard shouted, “Stop that, or suffer the consequences.” He lifted his crossbow.
Several of the Andrahar family’s guards pulled weapons.
Ellisandra didn’t think and didn’t hesitate. She launched herself at the guard. He hadn’t expected that, and tried to fend her off with one hand while keeping hold of his weapon with the other. Mirani crossbows were extremely heavy and it became unbalanced in his free hand. Ellisandra pushed past the dais and took up position in front of Nemedor Satarin an
d Asitho Bisumar, looking directly into the business end of Rehan Andrahar’s gun.
Everyone froze.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said, glaring at Rehan. “Lower that thing.”
Rehan didn’t move. The years that had passed since the picture had been taken from which she recognised him had made his face harder and more angular.
Mikandra gently touched her husband’s elbow. He lowered the gun slightly and studied Ellisandra over the top.
“I have no weapons but words,” she said. “I am the director of the state theatre. There is a play that we’ve just performed, Changing Fate. No one has understood it very well up till now, but it is the only play in the classics that shows the horrors of armed conflict. In the last scene of the play all the bad things happen to good people, because that is what conflicts are like. There is death and destruction, and many families are hurt, and things never go back to normal for these people. This is not going to be one of those conflicts.”
The circle had widened to include a couple of others, including Enzo, who stared at her with wide eyes.
She addressed Rehan. “The people in the sitting council may be bad in your eyes, but death is never a good punishment for misdeeds of the past. Death leaves widows and makes enemies.”
“This man is responsible for the deaths of many.”
“This man is our legally voted leader. I don’t defend him, but I want to defeat him in the regular way.”
Rehan jerked his head up, and stuck the gun back in the bracket under his cloak. A smile ghosted over Mikandra’s face.
Nemedor Satarin said, “I’m not going to run against a mere girl.”
“Then don’t run. I am standing for election. Anyone is welcome to stand against me. We let the people speak, not weapons. No more blood will be shed over this issue. The day Mirani people start fighting each other is the day that Miran truly dies.”
He glared at her, but said nothing. He didn’t need to. There were far too many of her supporters in the hall to try to hustle her out. Her nomination would already have been processed. His time in the High Council was finished and he knew it. He could retire gracefully or be defeated. It was all the same to her.