by K R Schultz
“The only reason for disqualification is a moral failure,” he began.
“Have you had any personal moral failure, to your knowledge or Simea’s?” Eideron asked.
“No,” they both said, exchanging a glance that displayed their confusion.
Simea held up his hands. “Aibhera is the most scrupulously moral person I know.”
Aibhera blushed, visibly embarrassed at his statement. “Sim, stop.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Simea. She said, “Does this mean the Examination Committee had overstepped its authority, and I could serve as an apprentice?”
Eideron bristled, waved his arms, and veins stood out on his neck. “Yes! Of course it does. You may only be rejected for your own moral failure, not someone else’s immorality. There is an excellent reason for that rule.” Eideron spoke slowly and with heavy emphasis. “Also, your mother’s morality or lack thereof is not an established fact. Remarriage alone does not constitute a moral failure.”
“As a matter of curiosity,” Himish interrupted, “what was your score, Aibhera?”
“Aibhera scored ten points higher than I did,” Simea boasted, proud of his friend’s spiritual and mental prowess.
“Those idiots! Himish, we have before us the two highest test scores in at least eight generations, and that moron Herron has disallowed the better of the two from taking the exams!”
“I know,” Himish agreed. “It’s no wonder things are going to hell in Abalon.”
“We must get her formally examined; otherwise, they will not allow her to testify before the council. Aibhera’s ability is too important to let those pompous pinheads win. I believe our interpretation of what Simea and Aibhera told us is correct. For whatever reason, the Nethera are about to begin a new offensive.
“If the council does not act, we ensure Aarda’s destruction while we cower here in our volcanic fortress. The Abrhaani and the Eniila fulfill the prophecy, while we, the supposed protectors of the truth, cower here in Abalon and ignore our responsibilities. The Eniila and Abrhaani are ready, and the Sokai must join them. They need us to combat the Nethera.”
“Only a few of them have joined forces,” Himish qualified.
“It’s time for us to join those few before the Nethera gain strength.”
Himish nodded. “I agree. The Nethera will destroy them without our help.” He shook his head and bit his lip. “How can they win when they can’t even see their enemies?”
“Or their friends,” Simea added.
“I will talk to the men and women I trust on the council,” Eideron said.
“As will I. I hope we can gain support.”
“What can we do to help, Master?” Simea asked.
“Nothing for now. Aibhera, we will contact you with the time for your exam. Until then, both of you return to your duties and leave this matter to us. We have much to ponder before we act.”
Himish said. “We have seen no Aethera since the Sundering, but it appears the Bright Host is active again. Their involvement with the three heroes is a momentous event.”
“Yes, momentous indeed,” Eideron seconded.
“Simea, escort your friend home. I will tend to your chores tonight. You have both done well, and I am proud of you.”
Simea blushed again as he received those words of praise from Eideron. This time it was not embarrassment that caused his red face. He basked in the glow of Eideron’s acceptance and approval.
Himish rose from the table. “I’m afraid I must leave you now, but I am so pleased to have met you youngsters. You have given hope to an old man’s heart.” They exchanged embraces, and Himish stepped out into the night.
After Himish left, Eideron removed the plates from the table. When Simea protested, Eideron said, “leave the cleanup to me. I am glad to do honest work again. The Sokai have been pampered and coddled long enough. It is past time for the Synod to hear the Lion roar. I doubt I will have many more opportunities given my age and the political climate in Abalon, but roar I will, and to hell with the consequences.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Rejection
After hours of debate, the Synod had not reached a resolution, and the orderly meeting descended into chaos. Amoreya’s lip curled, and her knuckles whitened from the grip on her staff of office—a long rod fashioned centuries before by unknown craftsmen. Whorls of leaves, nearly worn away by the hands of countless predecessors, decorated the long shaft of sea-green metal topped by a polished white crystal. She struck the staff on the dais. The impact of the rod, taller than the diminutive woman, thundered on the platform and echoed throughout the crowded room. The volume of a hundred voices dropped from a waterfall’s roar to a brook’s tinkle. She stared down the last few speakers until complete silence reigned.
“On the motion of examinations for the girl, Aibhera Liara, we will vote,” she declared. “We will defer the vote on whether to allow her to give evidence to the Synod Council pending the outcome of the vote on the Examination Committee’s ruling.”
“It is unnecessary to vote on this matter,” Herron waved his hand dismissively and shouted with contempt in his voice. “The Examination Committee found this young—” He paused as if searching for the proper word and sneered. “this young woman unfit.” Herron looked at Eideron and Himish with deliberate disdain. “And their judgment should be final. If you overrule them, you set a dangerous precedent.”
“The Examination Committee already set the dangerous precedent, Herron.” The muscles and veins of Eideron’s neck stood out as he shook with rage. “Overruling that stupid mistake is simply a step in the right direction.”
The noise level of the combined voices rose again as people shouted their agreement with one side or the other.
“Silence! All of you!” Amoreya’s voice could carry across a crowded room no matter what competed with it. “There will be a vote! Right now! No further debate!”
“All in favor!” bellowed the Steward of the Chamber. He rose out of his seat beside the Speaker, counted the votes, and wrote the results on his tally sheet.
“Those opposed.” The Steward counted again.
“Abstentions.” He made the final tally.
Himish and Eideron saw it was a close call either way, but they never expected this result. They had prepared for weeks, cajoling their friends as they tried to convince them to correct the injustice done to Aibhera. Eideron sensed he was out of touch with the Synod when he realized how influential Herron had become. He cursed under his breath. “Damn it to hell!” I should have noticed that Herron was busy accumulating favors, while I stood on principles. It has come to a vote, and they reached a decision based on popularity, not ethics and the rule of law.
“If the Synod has descended to decision-making based on popularity,” he whispered to Himish, “the Sokai are doomed.”
Herron and his cronies used all their power to save face. They had slandered Aibhera, and her younger sister, who they claimed was a seductress. They brought several young men forward with testimonies against Kyonna. Eideron asked why they called Aibhera iniquitous and excluded her from testing when the young men, guilty of lust by their own admission, could testify and have their testimony accepted. Eideron asked how Herron allowed admitted lechers to take the examination when they had disqualified Aibhera, despite no proof of her moral failure. That caused a furor, which Amoreya quelled by shouting and pounding on the platform with her staff of office.
Herron and his cohorts slandered Simea for his association with Aibhera and her sister. They alleged there was indecency in their relationship but could not offer any proof of the allegation. They argued that based on those allegations, Simea’s testimony was suspect and disallowed on the same grounds as Aibhera’s.
Eideron had countered, “If you have witnesses to any moral failure by Simea or Aibhera, where are they? Unsubstantiated claims are not, nor have they ever been, proof of anything other than the accuser’s prejudiced mind. If there was any failure, it was the failure of my col
league and the Examination Committee to treat every applicant with impartiality and fairness. Their failure is obvious to anyone who values truth and justice.”
Those comments had provoked the uproar, which led Amoreya to pound on the podium and call for the vote. The debate had concluded, and that was when the Steward counted the raised hands. The murmur of conversations subsided while everyone waited for the result.
“This has not gone well, old friend,” Himish whispered.
Eideron nodded in agreement, but his mind constructed alternative plans. His gut told him they would lose this vote.
The Steward rose, walked to the podium, and handed the Speaker the tally sheet.
“On the motion to allow the girl Aibhera Liara, daughter of Riessa Liara, to sit and be assessed, the motion fails,” she said. “The vote is forty-five in favor and fifty-one against, with four abstentions. The full council was present with no members missing, so a quorum was not in doubt.”
Herron and his cronies had won, and sensing weakness, they went for the jugular. Herron suggested Eideron was too partial to his apprentice and moved that the Synod transfer Simea to another councilor’s supervision forthwith.
When the debate ended and the shouting ceased, that motion passed too. For Himish and Eideron, it was like standing in the path of a rockslide as it picked up momentum. It swept them away and left them battered and bruised at the bottom of the slope. Eideron shook his head. His dull stare into the distance betrayed the sorrow in his heart. “I fear we can no longer work within this system.” His hands shook, and his shoulders slumped as he led Himish from the council chamber. Behind them, people fawned over Herron, slapping him on the back and shaking his hand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Kett’s Prophecy
The sound of movement in the ship’s cabin woke Aelfric. Sunlight streamed through the small window of the room and revealed his fellow passenger rummaging through his abundant belongings. Aelfric figured it was near evening if the sun was low enough in the sky to shine through the porthole.
Aelfric yawned and stretched, “Have we set sail?” He sized up the newcomer, an average-sized Abrhaani whose impeccable grooming and gaudy clothes demonstrated the fellow’s vast wealth and a penchant to flaunt it. When the newcomer straightened and turned toward Aelfric, the sun highlighted his face. His smooth-shaven symmetrical features no doubt made him attractive to Abrhaani women, but his eyes contained a veiled ferocity.
“I am sorry if I woke you, I meant no harm, sir.” The man’s face smiled, but his eyes, devious and aloof, held no warmth in them. “We are about to cast off, so I wanted to check on my belongings in case we hit rough water. One cannot trust one's belongings to the care of servants and assume they have done a proper job.”
“No harm done,” Aelfric replied. “I wanted to wake up before we set sail.”
“I travel to Baradon on business often,” the man volunteered in an attempt to make conversation.
Aelfric slipped out of his hammock without comment and stood hunched over to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. He found it hard to breathe inside the cramped cabin and craved the open sky on deck. Aelfric was less claustrophobic than other Eniila, but he still hated enclosed spaces.
“My, you are a big one,” the man began. “In my line of work, I need someone like you. If you want a job, I will hire you.”
Aelfric ignored him and climbed the narrow ladder to the deck. He watched the seamen cast off their lines and push off from the dock. Although he had been to sea before, the heaving water beneath the hull still made him uncomfortable.
The Sea Witch got underway.
Aelfric had nearly drowned when the small boat he used had foundered on the rocks before he reached Aeron Suul, and the experience heightened his apprehension as the gap between ship and dock widened. The green water stretched to the horizon on the seaward side, and the Sea Witch rose and dipped in the gentle swell.
His heart fluttered, and he broke into a cold sweat remembering the water closing over his head as he fought to reach the surface before the dark waters claimed him. The dinghy’s loss, a mixed blessing, forced him to continue his journey on foot. Although his load was heavy and the way was hard, he preferred to struggle on soil with forces under his control. He shuddered. The ocean is no place for an Eniila. The sooner I get solid ground beneath my feet again, the happier I will be.
Sailors trimmed the sails and set the rudder in a flurry of activity that meant nothing to him. The helmsman bellowed out incomprehensible commands, and the sailors appeared to carry out the orders. Aelfric put his fate in their hands and hoped for the best. It was either trust them or jump overboard and swim to shore. The choice looked increasingly foolish as the gap between ship and shore enlarged. While Aelfric quelled his anxiety, his cabinmate strolled topside and leaned over the rail beside him.
“Excuse me for not doing so earlier, but I realized I neglected to introduce myself. People call me Kett.” He waited for Aelfric to respond.
Aelfric smiled wryly while he eyed the man. “Well, I can call you Ketty,” he said, using the childish form of the name. “And Ketty, when you call me, you can call me Al.”
“That’s better, Al,” Kett responded, ignoring the slight. “As I said, I am bound for Baradon on business. Often people ask me what kind of business takes me to the land of my enemies.” Kett paused and waited long moments while Aelfric, hands clutching the rail, stared back toward the wharf. “Good, you are a man who keeps information to himself and his nose out of other people’s affairs. I am impressed.”
“My heart skips in ecstasy like lambs in the springtime because I impress you, little man,” Aelfric responded. “You’ll have a delightful voyage if you are so easily enthralled. Now cease your chatter and leave me in peace before I wet myself in delight.”
“In due time, my large, abrasive shipmate, but first, let me tell you what I see in you. I shall tell your fortune, for no charge, of course.”
“I need no fortune-teller.”
“You will require far more than a fortune-teller before your journey is over, and you will comprehend the reason once I begin.”
Aelfric glared at the man. What’s this fop playing at?
When Aelfric looked into the man’s eyes, the hard edge in them mirrored his own wish for vengeance. An over-eager smile and attractive face masked a hunger for power and an iron will. This intrigued Aelfric more than any offer of fortune-telling. Fine, I’ll call this Abrhaani chiseler’s bluff. “Go on then. Tell me what you think you know.”
“You are a veteran warrior who has suffered many reversals of fortune. Some setbacks happened long ago, but others are more recent. You are a man accustomed to power and authority, yet you travel back to your homeland with no possessions. I see a man who burns with passion for a mission at best, desperate, at worst, hopeless.
“I see a proud, noble, person, brought low by cruel fate and the treachery of those he trusted. You have run far to escape your destiny. You have squandered your youth in your flight from fate, but your true destiny still lies ahead of you. How am I doing so far?”
“Anyone with half a brain and eyes in his head could discern as much by looking at my scars. Someone who had a quick talk with Captain Harmish might do even better. It is a delightful story, as far as it goes.
“Tell me, charlatan, what destiny lies before me? Impress me with that, and I shall listen. If you cannot foretell my destiny, then disappear and trouble me no more. I warn you; I am not so easily impressed.” Aelfric tried to stare the man down, but Kett never flinched. Kett’s eyes glowed strangely in the setting sun when he answered Aelfric’s challenge.
Kett answered so softly Aelfric had to strain to hear the words above the sounds of the wind, the waves, and the creaking of the ship.
“The rule of Baradon in your hands,” Kett said, “or more precisely, the rule of Baradon returned to your hands, King Aelfric. If you are still strong enough to face your kin, I have considerable wealth and m
any contacts. I can help.” Kett turned and went below.
Aelfric, wide-eyed and white-knuckled, gripped the rail and stared across the empty ocean toward Baradon as the sun sank below the horizon, and darkness fell.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Censure
The next day brought yet another defeat for Himish and Eideron. The council had disallowed both Aibhera and Simea’s testimony. Eideron and Himish had no other witnesses to prove any Nethera threat existed, nor could they confirm the Eniila and Abrhaani worked together. A clear majority voted against sending a delegation to support the people who fought the Nethera. No matter what Eideron and Himish said, the council reached a consensus. Any expedition outside the valley risked the safety of the Sokai people by exposing their location. The decision devastated Eideron since the vote had been almost unanimous. They narrowly defeated Herron’s final motion to have Eideron censured and removed from his position on the council.
Himish tapped Eideron on the shoulder. “This entrenched mindset prevents our people from any role in Aarda’s defense. The vote demonstrates and highlights our people’s self-interest and disregard for everyone else. I wouldn’t have believed it possible. How did we become like this?”
Eideron shook his head and rose to his feet. He stood silent with his hand raised until he captured Amoreya’s attention, and she granted him permission to speak. This will be my last address to these stubborn fools. He spread his arms wide and turned in a circle to gaze at the entire gathering. “My beloved people and esteemed colleagues. Centuries ago, the Sokai avoided destruction and fled to Abalon, but our retreat from the world meant we abandoned the Creator’s purposes for our lives. We ignored Aarda’s needs and the needs of the Abrhaani and the Eniila. We decided the Eniila and Abrhaani were not worth saving.” His voice quavered, and he lowered his head. “This council believes that since no one knows our location, the Sokai can live in peace and safety no matter what happens outside Abalon.”