The dozen and a half thoheeksee of Council filed into the wide chamber, dutifully racked their swords and other weapons, then took their accustomed places at the long table. Last to make appearance were Grahvos and Mahvros, accompanied by Tomos Gonsalos. At sight of the nonmember, Thoheeks Pahvlos’ thick white eyebrows went up and he frowned and began to loudly crack his big knuckles, growling under his breath.
When Mahvros took his place, Pahvlos immediately demanded, “Were we all summoned here simply to hear the yappings of that half-breed puppy out of Karaleenos?” He looked around the Council and added, “He’s living with some mountain slut to whom he claims to be married, has the unmitigated gall to refer to the baggage before civilized men as ‘his lady wife’! All that I can say is that he never asked or got my permission to marry.”
“Why, pray tell, my lord, would he need your precious permission to wed?” asked Thoheeks Sitheeros, adding, “And, as that girl’s sire is an old and very dear friend of mine, you’d best balk up your prize insults when I’m around.”
“Yes,” Pahvlos said, smiling coldly, “everyone here knows your perverse love for barbarians, female and male, no rare your peculiar tastes admired, only tolerated because of your wealth and power. But in reply to your question, my lord, this Karaleen was an officer of my army—”
“It is not your army,” snapped Mahvros. “It is Council’s army and, through Council, a part of the army of the High Lord Milo, who now rules over us, Karaleenos, Kehnooryos Ehlahs, the Isles of the Ehleen Pirates, the Arhkee thoheekseeahn of Kuhmbuhluhn, the Komeeseeahn of York and the Komeeseeahn of Getzburk. You overstep yourself, my lord, but then you have been so doing for some little time.”
The old man grinned mockingly. “Going to make motion to take my army away from me again, you young shoat? Remember what happened the last time, don’t you?”
“My lord, please, I beg you,” said Thoheeks Portos, “it is our Council’s chairman you are addressing.”
“Oh, shut up, Portos!” snarled Pahvlos. “When I want shit out of you, I’ll squeeze your malformed head.”
“No, Pahvlos, you shut your sewer mouth!” ordered Grahvos. “Keep it shut or I’ll summon guards, see you roped into that chair and gagged. If you don’t believe me, try me and learn to your sorrow.”
He stood up, holding the red leather tube prominently in his hand. “My lords, some years after we had moved the capital from its old location to Mehseepolis, I was recipient of certain dispatches from High Lord Milos. If those who were then members of Council will recall, we then were not at all certain sure that we would be able to rebind the lands together under us and ever take our place in the Confederation ruled over by the High Lord, and I had communicated this to him in a letter.
“His replies were several, but one of them was a letter in a tube that also contained this tube—then firmly sealed. The letter that was within the outer tube recognized the enormity of the task we few then were undertaking and praised our bravery for trying to do it at all in the face of seemingly overwhelming odds, so much opposition from so many quarters. The High Lord went on to say that I should keep this tube sealed and keep it always near to hand, and should all appear lost, the situation either hopeless or completely out of hand for whatever reasons, I was to break the seals and open this red tube, seek out the man who had the other half of the coin therein contained, and follow his instructions to the letter, recognizing him to be the full surrogate of the High Lord.
“It did not work out quite that way, of course, my lords. We have succeeded . . . after a fashion. But now crass politics and a controversy centering around a stubborn, petulant old man in his second childhood through senility is threatening the stability that we have but recently achieved at great cost of effort and time, sweat and gold, blood and worry.
“Although we each of us swore and attested powerful oaths to ever lend our full and unqualified support to the aims and aspirations of our Confederation of Consolidated Thoheekseeahnee, its governing body—the Council of Thoheeksee—and the larger entity which it serves and to which it owes pledged fealty—the Confederation of Eastern Peoples—many a one of this present council has proved himself to be completely unwilling to sacrifice even a single one of his purely personal interests to the common weal; indeed, members of Council have time and again fought like cur-dogs over a rotting bone within the precincts of this very room, have later drawn each other’s blood in senseless duels and have, I am dead certain, hired common assassins to dispose of peers and brothers of Council.
“This can in no way be construed or considered an orderly government, for all that the strenuous efforts of a very few of us have kept most of the outward appearances of one with little help, no help at all or outright and childish opposition from the remainder of Council. I have right often of recent months thought me of that red letter tube tucked away in my files and wondered and pondered.
“All of you know Sub-strahteegos Thoheeks Tomos Gonsalos, here. He is Karaleen-born and truly owes us nothing, yet he accepted the High Lord’s commission to march down here following the Zastros disaster and, with a small nucleus of troops loaned by the High Lord for a core, rebuild from the broken, scattered elements of warbands and survivors of the royal armies of the various kings a fine, strong, well-balanced and proven-effective army, so that when the present Grand Strahteegos took command, years back, he had only to shape and mold a preexisting army to his personal taste, not organize one from scratch, as might otherwise have been the case.
“After the Grand Strahteegos took command of the field army, no one would have thought it at all out of place had this selfless nobleman, his job well done, left and returned back north to his own lands and kin. But he did not, rather he stayed on here, and has since then done the hard, detailed and exacting duties of managing the many-faceted support system without which the field army could not exist and keep functioning.
“The army taken over by the Grand Strahteegos was strong, disciplined and well organized, owning many fine units raised and commanded by effective and sometimes brilliant noble officers. The skill and valor and blood of that army won victory atop victory for Council and was of significant help in finally reuniting these lands, clearing them of the scum that had accumulated here and there in the bad old days and seating us and our noble vassals all securely in our places. This army of ours remained that way for a while . . . but no more, my lords, no more.”
“Now, dammit, Grahvos,” snapped Pahvlos, looking and sounding thoroughly exasperated, “do you intend to get to a point or not? I am a very busyman, I have many important matters awaiting me back at the headquarters of my army. I think that this session can get along just as well rehashing recent history without me.” He shoved back his chair and looked to be in the act of arising.
“I would strongly advise that you stay, my lord Grand Strahteegos,” said Mahvros quietly and coolly, but with force. “I say this both as chairman and as one privy to knowledge not yet generally shared by the other members of Council.”
The spare, white-haired officer sank back into his chair, saying, “Oh, very well. But please, please, get to a point, Grahvos. I left it that the punishment and executions of certain military miscreants on tap for today not commence without me there to witness them, and the troops all are drawn up in formations by now, that they may be warned by those examples how I maintain discipline and loyalty in my army.”
“As I was saying, my lords,” Thoheeks Grahvos went on, “our army, Council’s army, was still a strong, a terribly effective, a high-spirited force as lately as two years ago, but no more. Many of the best noble officers have taken their units and left the camp; many noble officers who yet remain are much disaffected and have made that disaffection known to certain of us.”