this decision,” said Ch’dak Vaijan. “She was our excuse for our actions…not the crafter of our policy.”
“She is to be included for the same reason that she was initiatedinto our Order,” Sjei said as though it were a fact. “She is the ward of the Emperor, his chosen daughter and, as such, has become our best eyes and ears regarding the Imperial Will—and how we may not so much shape as reinterpret that will to our advantage. That has been the purpose of the Modalis down through its centuries of existence; to quietly influence the interpretation of the Emperor’s utterances to our mutual profit and that of the Empire on the whole. Each of you comes from a different position in government—each of you brings your own unique talents and powers of influence to our collective. How better to accomplish our designs than to bring into our confidence the woman who now has the Emperor’s eye and heart? It was most fortunate that there was an open seat on our council…”
The cheers overhead had not stopped and suddenly they surged once again. Each member of the Modalis looked up as the sifting dust settled around them.
“She is popular with the Fourth Estate,” Liau acknowledged.
“She is dangerous,” Ch’dak said quietly. “She could be difficult to control and if she decided to turn against us…”
The noise of the cheering escalated as a square column of light suddenly cascaded down the long stair at the far end of the cistern. A single figure in a white robe descended the stairs, the light from above casting her features in shadow. Just as quickly the light was choked off, the stairs and its figure vanishing with it. They could hear the footsteps approaching. Sjei watched as each of the members of the Modalis around him waited in silence.
The young elf woman drew into the light of their floating globes overhead. Her robe was of the finest weave with a carefully crafted jagged hem in the “torn” fashion that she had personally made so popular among all the estates of the Empire. She let fall the hood from the back of her elongated head, revealing the carefully coifed rim of white hair around her tapered bald crown. Her face had a pinched, angular look that most elves found comely.
“Tsi-Shebin Timuran,” Sjei bowed slightly, followed after a moment’s hesitation by the rest of the group.
Shebin had taken the place in the Modalis Council previously held by Wejon Rei, the Fifth High Priest of the Myrdin-dai—but Wejon was no more, acknowledged by no one and his name was never spokenaloud. He had been one of the most powerful of the Modalis in his time and had even challenged the authority of the council itself until it was no longer convenient or profitable for anyone to remember him. Now Wejon Rei was dead—whether in fact or in memory it really did not matter—and Shebin, the cunning engineer of his fall, now assumed all of her rival’s authority and power.
“Sjei-Shurian,” Shebin smiled, her sharp teeth gleaming in the light of the globes. “The Games of Triumph are underway and my presence is commanded by order of the Emperor. What urgency requires that we meet with such haste?”
“My question precisely,” Ch’dak chimed in. He had been recalled urgently from his own plans at his villa on the shores of Lake Bra’an and was resenting having to attend to business during an Imperial holiday.
“We have received troubling word regarding events on the northern frontier,” Sjei responded to Shebin, ignoring Ch’dak. “The Blade of the Northern Will and the Legions of the Northern Fist…we have received the testament of a survivor.”
“
A
survivor?” Ch’dak said, raising an arched brow above his featureless, black eyes. “You called us here in this privy for only one report?”
“It will apparently be the
only
report. Arikasi received it,” Sjei said, moving the discourse over to the uncomfortable Minister of Occupation.
“There will be only one report because, so
“She is to be included for the same reason that she was initiatedinto our Order,” Sjei said as though it were a fact. “She is the ward of the Emperor, his chosen daughter and, as such, has become our best eyes and ears regarding the Imperial Will—and how we may not so much shape as reinterpret that will to our advantage. That has been the purpose of the Modalis down through its centuries of existence; to quietly influence the interpretation of the Emperor’s utterances to our mutual profit and that of the Empire on the whole. Each of you comes from a different position in government—each of you brings your own unique talents and powers of influence to our collective. How better to accomplish our designs than to bring into our confidence the woman who now has the Emperor’s eye and heart? It was most fortunate that there was an open seat on our council…”
The cheers overhead had not stopped and suddenly they surged once again. Each member of the Modalis looked up as the sifting dust settled around them.
“She is popular with the Fourth Estate,” Liau acknowledged.
“She is dangerous,” Ch’dak said quietly. “She could be difficult to control and if she decided to turn against us…”
The noise of the cheering escalated as a square column of light suddenly cascaded down the long stair at the far end of the cistern. A single figure in a white robe descended the stairs, the light from above casting her features in shadow. Just as quickly the light was choked off, the stairs and its figure vanishing with it. They could hear the footsteps approaching. Sjei watched as each of the members of the Modalis around him waited in silence.
The young elf woman drew into the light of their floating globes overhead. Her robe was of the finest weave with a carefully crafted jagged hem in the “torn” fashion that she had personally made so popular among all the estates of the Empire. She let fall the hood from the back of her elongated head, revealing the carefully coifed rim of white hair around her tapered bald crown. Her face had a pinched, angular look that most elves found comely.
“Tsi-Shebin Timuran,” Sjei bowed slightly, followed after a moment’s hesitation by the rest of the group.
Shebin had taken the place in the Modalis Council previously held by Wejon Rei, the Fifth High Priest of the Myrdin-dai—but Wejon was no more, acknowledged by no one and his name was never spokenaloud. He had been one of the most powerful of the Modalis in his time and had even challenged the authority of the council itself until it was no longer convenient or profitable for anyone to remember him. Now Wejon Rei was dead—whether in fact or in memory it really did not matter—and Shebin, the cunning engineer of his fall, now assumed all of her rival’s authority and power.
“Sjei-Shurian,” Shebin smiled, her sharp teeth gleaming in the light of the globes. “The Games of Triumph are underway and my presence is commanded by order of the Emperor. What urgency requires that we meet with such haste?”
“My question precisely,” Ch’dak chimed in. He had been recalled urgently from his own plans at his villa on the shores of Lake Bra’an and was resenting having to attend to business during an Imperial holiday.
“We have received troubling word regarding events on the northern frontier,” Sjei responded to Shebin, ignoring Ch’dak. “The Blade of the Northern Will and the Legions of the Northern Fist…we have received the testament of a survivor.”
“
A
survivor?” Ch’dak said, raising an arched brow above his featureless, black eyes. “You called us here in this privy for only one report?”
“It will apparently be the
only
report. Arikasi received it,” Sjei said, moving the discourse over to the uncomfortable Minister of Occupation.
“There will be only one report because, so
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