The Empress of Beasts, page 13
part #13 of The Wandering Inn Series
He looked around for support. The old Council nodded. Ulseil broke in hurriedly.
“I agree! We’ve gotten completely off-track from our original discussion. Funding Liscor’s expansion might be possible if the Walled Cities and the Antinium are willing to contribute to Liscor’s funds, but suddenly levying fines or controlling the way business is done is not the purpose of this Council! I wish to make this very clear! As a Councilmember and Head of the Merchant’s Guild—”
Ulseil paused. Because only half of that sentence was true. He went on.
“I think we should take a recess for some further clarification of how things are done. We can all split up into pairs, old and new, and then get back to—”
He stopped, because at that moment Krshia Silverfang stood up. She didn’t do anything else. But it was the kind of movement that attracted attention. It wasn’t fast. But it wasn’t slow, either. She rose ponderously, with a great weight about her. And when she was done, she looked down at Ulseil.
She was the tallest person in the room, just a bit taller than Elirr. And she looked down at Ulseil very coolly. Somehow, the words froze in Ulseil’s mouth. Krshia looked, from face to face, at the old Council. And then she looked around at the new Council. At Elirr and Raekea, and then Jeiss and Alonna, both of whom were frowning. Tismel and Zalaiss she ignored completely.
“I think we have learned much from the old Council. And I agree with former Councilmember Ulseil, yes? There is much this new Council does not do like the old one. We lack order. And Liscor’s Council must have order. Pointless shouting does little. We should be focused on what matters.”
She looked around, and then at last, met Lism’s eyes. The [Shopkeeper] didn’t look away and he and Krshia stopped, staring at each other. They began to glare. And then, suddenly, stopped. Olesm held his breath. Then, slowly, Lism looked sideways. And nodded.
“As much as I hate to admit it, Councilmember Silverfang, I have to agree.”
Ulseil exhaled. The former Councilmember issued a tentative smile. At last, they could get things back on track. The Gnolls were good for something after all! He clapped his claws briskly and looked around.
“Good. In that case, let’s all take a break.”
Lism nodded.
“Good idea. Feel free to take it outside. Councilmembers?”
He stood up. Jeiss, Alonna, Raekea, and Elirr all got up too. The old Council blinked. The next thing they knew, the eight Drakes found themselves outside the meeting room, balancing the snack platters in their claws. They turned as Lism pushed the last former Councilmember out and shoved the waste basket into her arms.
“You can’t do this! We haven’t finished telling you how things work! Don’t you dare—if you so much as try to enforce any rule on our class, we’ll—”
Yalla shouted at Lism. He smiled at her without an ounce of sincerity.
“Miss Yalla. I am a Councilmember. You are not. And the Council will decide on what’s appropriate for this city. If the Head of the Merchant’s Guild or the [Landlady] of Welcaissel have a complaint, you can write it down.”
He paused. After a moment, Yalla retorted.
“And?”
Lism slammed the door in her face.
——
The Council of Liscor met for the first time, really, for the first time in a room covered with crushed candied nuts worked into the rich carpet. With an angry Drake [Landlady] pounding on the door until Olesm helped remove her. And they took stock of each other a second time then.
You had Krshia, Elirr, and Raekea on one side. Gnolls united by a common purpose. And Olesm, as he came back in wincing at a scratch on his arm—Yalla had sharp claws—looked at the Drakes. You might assume they were all the same, but they weren’t. Lism, Jeiss, and Alonna were all quite firmly together.
Tismel and Zalaiss on the other hand were in the same bed as the old Council. They looked appalled at the way the Drakes had been bundled out of the room and were staring at Lism and Krshia as the two sat back.
“Odious person, that. I should have known. [Landlady]. Pah. She inherited those apartments. They certainly haven’t been maintained since she was born. I doubt she’s even stepped into one.”
Lism was grumbling to himself. Krshia was murmuring to Raekea, who looked nervous. And Elirr? Elirr seemed calm. He was turning his head left and right, regarding the room in much the same way Olesm was. And then he caught the [Strategist]’s eye and smiled.
Almost secretively. As if Elirr had suddenly come across a good joke. Which told Olesm that the older Gnoll had seen something.
And then Olesm looked at the room. Really looked. And he saw something that Liscor’s Council had failed to notice until this very moment. The election for Liscor had been framed as a matter of Drakes vs Gnolls, old vs new, trust in the Antinium and non-Drakes and non-Gnolls versus the traditions of Liscor. But what the old Council really should have been worried about, what they’d failed to notice was this:
The new Council wasn’t rich. In fact, aside from the aforementioned Tismel and Zalaiss, they were all from working occupations. [Guardsman]. [Shopkeeper]. [Armorer]. [Mage]. Olesm knew for a fact that Alonna hadn’t inherited anything that had catapulted her into the Mage’s Guild’s leadership role. And he knew his uncle. And Krshia.
Suddenly, he felt better about this new Council. He hadn’t liked the old one. He hadn’t hated them, but they’d been rather like the Council before them. And the one before that. But this one?
This one was new. Lism finished brushing bits of nuts off his side of the table. He looked around and gestured at the now-empty snack tray. Jeiss tossed his uneaten deviled eggs into the wastebasket with a grimace.
“Not good. Too rich for my blood.”
Lism nodded. He reached for his belt and took out a water flask and drank.
“Next time I’ll bring some decent snacks from my stocks.”
That broke the ice. Krshia looked up from her conversation with Raekea and nodded.
“I know a [Cook] who does very fine work catering to crowds, yes? He could put a small spread on the table for the cost of one of those other dishes. I could ask him to cater for us.”
Lism turned his head.
“I take it your friend’s a Gnoll?”
The [Shopkeeper] bristled.
“And if he is?”
“Oh, nothing. But will he be catering all our meals? Why not let some Drake [Cooks] provide the meals?”
“Why not? You may suggest a name. I did not hear any from you.”
“I have five.”
Lism snapped back. Raekea looked up as Krshia and Lism began to snap at each other. She caught Jeiss’ eye across the table. They gave each other a nod. Jeiss put a hand on Lism’s shoulder and the [Shopkeeper] paused. Raekea poked Krshia in the side. The Gnoll yelped and glared. But then she relaxed.
“I was simply saying, that if food was desired—”
“Maybe if you alternated species in who’s providing meals for the Council?”
Olesm broke in desperately to avoid another fight. Krshia and Lism stared at him. The [Shopkeeper] nodded.
“Well, obviously. I was just making the point that—never mind.”
He eyed Krshia warily. She looked at him for a second and then Raekea poked her. Olesm cleared his throat. Well, at least this was classic.
“If anyone has a further motion to pass regarding providing sustenance for Council meetings? That was actually on the docket, but we can move it up the timetable.”
The table stared at him. Krshia frowned.
“What did you say, Olesm? That is on today’s list of important topics? Snacks?”
The [Strategist] sighed as he consulted his notes.
“The former Council likes to sort out these matters right away. In years past, it can be a matter of…contention.”
Lism stared at his nephew, aghast. He cast a look towards the door.
“They quibble about—it’s just food for Ancestor’s sake! We don’t need to discuss it! Do we?”
He looked around the table. Jeiss raised his brows.
“I don’t have an issue with what I eat so long as I’m not going to puke it out on patrol. Or have half the Gnoll kids ask me what I ate.”
“Did the Council actually debate over snacks, Olesm? And for how long? Are they always like…?”
Alonna waved a claw to indicate the show the old Council had been. Olesm hesitated. But that was the old Council. And if they got word that he was telling tales they might…never speak to him again.
“Well—there was a number of heated debates halfway through their first year. I think they devoted two sessions to arguing about nuts. The uh, deviled eggs were a compromise that went on for about four months. The old Drake, Councilmember—er, Mister Saish—really liked eggs.”
He looked around the room. There was just silence from Lism and Krshia’s camps. Again, Krshia and Lism traded glances. Lism raised one claw.
“All in favor of alternating food duties between members, if we need to eat at all? I’ll start.”
Krshia instantly raised her paw. Raekea thought about it for as long as it took to give the idea proper, measured thought. She was only a beat behind Krshia. Elirr’s paw was already in the air along with Jeiss’. Alonna waved a claw.
“I don’t do well with cilantro. That’s all from me.”
“Wait, are we voting?”
Tismel looked dismayed. Lism stared at him, and then at Zalaiss.
“What’s it look like we’re doing? That’s what the old Council said we do, right? Unless we have to do some kind of ceremony?”
“One of the Councilmembers liked to bang a little rock to call the vote. But no.”
“I see. Do we need to write anything down, Nephew?”
“…Not for an informal agreement on bringing food to the meetings, no. I shouldn’t think so.”
Lism nodded.
“Okay then. Vote.”
He glared at Tismel and Zalaiss. They hesitated, and then their claws came up. Lism nodded.
“Everyone’s in favor. So we’re agreed. Is that how it works?”
He looked at Olesm again. The [Strategist] coughed.
“Um. Yes.”
“Good! Cross that off your list, Olesm. What’s next?”
Olesm blinked.
“Well, you were debating—”
“Not that. Let’s get the least important things out of the way first. Then onto the actual debates. Right?”
Lism looked across the table. Krshia cracked her knuckles.
“Of course.”
Disconcerted at the sudden harmony between the two, Olesm looked at his list.
“There’s…the announcement you put out around the city. You see, traditionally—”
“We know what the announcement is. Alright, we have to say something. Thoughts?”
Elirr raised a paw. Lism stared at him.
“Well, spit it out!”
The Gnoll looked affronted.
“I thought we raised paws. No? Very well. For the announcement, just say what is needed. ‘There is no issue. We are all alive’. Simple, yes?”
“Hah! I like that!”
Jeiss snorted. Alonna looked dismayed.
“Perhaps something less direct, Elirr? I think Liscor’s citizens would prefer something with some…what’s the word? Ornamentation. What’d they write last year?”
Lism waved a claw.
“The new Council has assumed its role as leadership of Liscor, etc. etc…copy that and have someone shout it a few times.”
“Wait, but wouldn’t that be lazy?”
It was Zalaiss who raised her claw timidly. Lism’s eyes popped.
“Who cares if it is? And who cares what the Council has to say?”
“Well…”
She looked uncomfortable and glanced around. Jeiss was rubbing at one ear. Alonna shrugged. The Gnolls looked blank. They didn’t see the point either. Lism drawled.
“Next? Or do we vote on it? This isn’t important.”
“On that we agree.”
Krshia folded her arms. Helplessly, Zalaiss fell silent. Olesm went down the list. It would have taken the old Council ages to come up with a worded message. Wasn’t it important? Then he hesitated. Wait, who would listen to the announcement anyways? Not many people. How many would remember it was the same as the last one? He looked at his uncle. Lism had never had time for superfluous work.
“Another issue is when the Council meets.”
Raekea nodded. The [Armorer] was looking more reassured now the old Council was gone. This she could understand.
“Meeting times? What’s the tradition?”
“Once a week on a day chosen by the Council, unless a member convenes the Council due to an emergency or a situation of crisis demands meetings at more regular intervals.”
The Gnoll paused. She frowned.
“Once a week?”
There was a snort from Lism.
“That’s not work. That’s a vacation!“
Krshia nodded.
“Let’s do three days a week at least. Try for five. That would work for me.”
Jeiss groaned. Lism looked at him, but the Senior Guardsman only held up a claw.
“Dawn? It’s the only time that would work for me. I want to see my family nights. I’ll change my schedule with the Watch.”
Lism nodded. Alonna yawned.
“Works for me. This isn’t far from the Guild anyways.”
“All in favor?”
“Er, do you mean right at dawn or…”
Zalaiss trailed off as the other five Council members stared at her. Lism blinked slowly.
“We do have to work, you know. Dawn’s simple. I’m up before it every day.”
Krshia nodded.
“As am I.”
Raekea raised a paw.
“Me too.”
“Sometimes I work through the night. On patrols. Dawn would actually give me a chance to get regular patrol times.”
“I can get up early.”
“My cats wake me up.”
Tismel didn’t say anything. He meekly raised his hand as the Council voted unanimously again. Olesm found himself crossing out item after item on the list. Meeting times? Check. Contact information? They would be here at these times. Just hire a Street Runner! Redecoration? Lism’s glare made Olesm’s quill cross that off the list, never mind the nutty carpet.
“Any more trivial decisions or can we debate the real issues? I see four. Or something. Antinium, walls, Minotaur, funding. Close enough.”
Lism looked around the table. He was met only with silence except from a slow stare from Krshia. Raekea sat up and Elirr leaned forwards. Jeiss took a deep breath and Alonna cricked her neck, looking at Lism. He nodded.
“Alright. Let’s get down to the real issue. All in favor of executing the Minotaur? Let’s get this done.”
“Lism!”
Krshia snapped. Lism just looked at her.
“What? You know we’re all thinking it. That’s what I ran on. Let’s just see a show of claws!”
“You can’t just use a majority vote!”
“That’s how it works.”
“Wait, who are we voting to…execute? The Minotaur? You mean, the one in the dungeon?”
Tismel looked queasy. Jeiss frowned and then raised his hand. Alonna held up hers.
“I’m not voting yes. I just want to know why we have to kill him.”
“We don’t. We should, though. He led the Raskghar to attack Liscor. He’s responsible for deaths. Gnoll deaths as well as Drake.”
Lism looked pointedly at Krshia. She folded her arms. Raekea hesitated and her arm moved for a second. Then she looked at Krshia. Elirr coughed.
“We agreed not to. That is a fundamental issue we promised, Raekea.”
She sighed. Lism looked around. Alonna put her hand down.
“Alonna!”
“Oh, fine.”
She raised her hand. It was three against three. That left Tismel and Zalaiss undecided. The Drake [Cobbler] wavered.
“I just don’t know. This is a sudden commitment!”
“That’s what I promised people, or do you not recall?”
“But deciding it now? Can’t we debate the issue?”
“And waste time like that previous idiot Council did? Ancestors, I want to get things done today, people!”
Lism raised his voice, but Krshia’s growl made him stop. She looked at him across the table, arms folded.
“As do I. However, a life is not something you should casually dismiss. Let alone with a vote.”
The Drake stabbed the tabletop with one claw.
“We’ve been over this, Silverfang. You might have said a lot to get that Human on your side, but I meant every word. That monster killed people. He betrayed his team and put Liscor in danger. He might be crazy or he might not be. Either way, he should be killed.”
“And if he was under—”
“He isn’t under a spell. Alonna or another [Mage] would have detected it.”
“What if it’s something else?”
“Tell me what it is!”
Lism smacked one claw on the table. Olesm held his breath, wavering. Krshia and the Gnolls refused to raise their paws. Tismel raised his claw, lowered it. It was Zalaiss who raised hers.
“I vote for it.”
“Tismel?”
Lism’s voice was dangerous, but the [Cobbler]’s conscience had a hold of him. He hesitated.
“I’m not convinced that just executing a Minotaur—I mean, it’s my vote! That’s a lot to ask of me on the first day! Let me at least consider it—anyways, what if we’re split? There are eight Councilmembers; we could tie. What then?”
The Drake looked disgusted.
“You’re right. That is a tie.”
“Which means we don’t kill him.”
“That’s not how a tie works, Silverfang! A tie? Eight people on the Council? Who chose that number? We could deadlock any number of times! What happens then?”
“I break the vote. Not that it matters in this case.”
The doors swung open. Watch Captain Zevara strode into the room with perfect timing. She’d probably been listening at the door, to be fair, but it still turned every head. Olesm blinked as the Watch Captain strode towards the table. She stopped and placed her claws on the hardwood. She nodded to everyone, pausing for a moment on Krshia and Jeiss.
