"Heard you went upstairs again yesterday," Groghe commented, changing the subject. "What'd you do this time?"
"Closed some doors," Jaxom said with a diffident shrug. He had also spent a long time, Ruth beside him, looking down at the splendor of Pern as seen from space. Not even Piemur, harper-trained as he was, had been able to describe the scene adequately or convey how deeply it had affected him. Nor had Jaxom, though he had tried to tell Sharra something of the grandeur he had seen and the awe he had felt. He kept the vision solidly in one bedazzled corner of his mind. If only more of the Lord Holders would see, he thought, they would stop their petty bickering.
"Closed doors? Was that all?" Groghe asked in surprise.
"There's a lot to be done to set the Yokohama to rights. It's dangerous up there," Jaxom replied. That was a slight exaggeration, but Aivas had steadily repeated the fact that space was a hostile environment and humans must learn the necessary cautions to prevent accidents. "When the safety measures do check out, it would be our pleasure, Ruth's and mine, to take you up there."
Groghe, clearly astonished, hemmed and hawed nervously. "We'll see, lad, we'll see," he said finally.
Jaxom merely nodded and asked amiably, "Do you think this will take all morning?"
"Likely to." Groghe gave a snort, then covered his mouth so that only Jaxom would hear his next comment. "Sigomal needs Blesserel to be confirmed or he'll never get his money. That young fellow was gambling on succeeding and having the Hold's mark-coffers at his disposal."
Jaxom had already suspected that Oterel's oldest son was heavily in debt to the Bitran Holder.
"Does Terentel have any support?" Jaxom found it hard to imagine who would back Oterel's middle son. Some people seemed to be born losers: Terentel was such a one.
"Actually," Groghe said, his eyebrows going up in surprise, "I believe Begamon will. Corman, too, but probably only because he dislikes Blesserel and is feeling testy about the amount of interest in the Landing projects. He's still not convinced."
"No one from Keroon Hold itself is involved, but there're enough from the minor holds so that no one at Landing's worried overmuch about his opposition," Jaxom replied. "Keroon's more agriculturally oriented anyway."
"And Corman's a stubborn old fool," Groghe added, eyeing Jaxom critically.
Jaxom contented himself with a grin. Then Asgenar touched his arm, and he turned to his right.
"Larad says that we have Deckter of Nabol, who of us all appreciates Ranrel's harbor repairs, ourselves, you, and Toronas," the Lemos Holder said. "Which way will Lytol go?"
Jaxom shrugged. "Where his conscience leads him."
"Then he'll be for Ranrel," Asgenar said smoothly. "We think Bargen of High Reaches is with us, too."
"Really? I'd've thought he'd go with the other, ah, older Lord Holders."
"He was impressed with Aivas, remember. He's got an odd twist of mind and wouldn't hold with Blesserel's profligacy or Terentel's apathy."
"That gives Ranrel eight votes on the first ballot. Not bad. Maybe it won't take too long after all."
"How did yesterday go for you?"
"Easy enough," Jaxom replied diffidently. "Just had to close the cargo-bay doors."
"Doors, huh?" Then Asgenar leaned closer and spoke for Jaxom's ears alone. "What was it like, Jaxom, bringing Sallah Telgar back?"
Jaxom felt himself go rigid in surprise. He hadn't thought Asgenar had a penchant for the macabre. "I've been sent on some odd errands now and then, Asgenar," he replied, "but that was the most unusual."
"Aivas said she'd've been frozen as she died. Could you see her face? What did she look like?"
"We could see nothing," Jaxom lied. Even from Larad, Sallah's descendant, such morbid curiosity would have been unacceptable to him. "The faceplate of the helmet was clouded."
Asgenar seemed disappointed. "I just wondered if she looked anything like we do."
Jaxom gave a snort. "Of course she did. All the settlers were humans, just like us. What were you expecting her to be?"
"I don't know-but I-" Asgenar faltered.
Jaxom was exceedingly glad that Lytol took that moment to call the meeting to order. In his position as the retired Lord Warder of Ruatha, Lytol had been chosen as the meeting's arbiter. He was also still entitled to vote, as a mark of respect for his probity and integrity in raising Ruatha's heir to his majority.
"We know why we're here and that the accession to this Hold has been challenged by the legitimate sons of the late Oterel. Proposing themselves, as is their right, are Blesserel, the eldest, Terentel, and Ranrel."
"Get on with it, Lytol," Groghe said, testily flapping his fingers at the man. "Put it to a vote and let's see where we stand."
Lytol regarded Groghe a moment. "There are procedures, and we will adhere to them."
"Thought you'd plunged headlong into all the new ways," Sangel said sarcastically.
Lytol regarded the Boll Holder with narrowed eyes and expressionless face until Sangel stirred restlessly and glanced at Nessel for support. With a. slight smile, Nessel turned to his right-hand neighbor, Laudey, and murmured something.
Imperturbably, Lytol continued. "You might be interested to note that the manner in which this Council conducts the business at hand has not changed since it was first instituted twenty-five hundred Turns ago. The Charter was carefully promulgated and every contingency addressed. We will go on as usual."
Warbret of Ista looked surprised and leaned to Laudey to snake a comment. Laudey's disapproving expression did not alter.
"If there are no further comments," Lytol said, having scanned the faces around the table, "let us cast the first vote. I do not need to remind anyone at this table that a majority of twelve is required to confirm a candidate. Signify your choice by number: one for Blesserel, two for Terentel, and three for Ranrel."
When he resumed his seat, he picked up the ink pen and, shielding the pad with one hand, made a brief inscription. Folding the sheet, he tore it from its glued backing.
Jaxom noted that everyone at the table was similarly employed and wondered if any of them realized that they were using new products to exercise their traditional franchise.
The votes were passed around to Lytol, who shuffled them as he received them so that the order in which he finally opened them would not indicate the origin. As he read them, he sorted them in three neat piles, one much thicker than the others. Meticulously he counted each pile before announcing the result.
"For Blesserel, five votes; for Terentel, three; for Ranrel, seven. No clear majority."
Jaxom inhaled a long breath. The voting had gone as he had expected, but even so, seven on the first ballot was a minor triumph for Ranrel. Lytol made a wad of the voting papers and, putting them in the brazier, watched them burn before he again rose to his feet.
"Who will speak for Blesserel, the eldest?" Lytol asked as required.
Jaxom slumped down into the heavy chair, glad of the cushions that gave him a small measure of comfort. He hated this tedious part of the proceedings. The older lords would go on and on, given an opportunity. Then he remembered his covert role.
Ruth, please tell Master Robinton that the vote went seven to Ranrel, five to Blesserel, and three to Terentel, and I'm reasonably sure Toric voted for Terentel. He can't be serious, but he can be a nuisance, Jaxom told his weyrmate.
I told the Harper. He expected this outcome.
We both did, but it's going to be a long day. Are you comfortable in the sun?
I am! It is a fine dory.
For you!
There will be time for feasting and dancing later. Now you must be Lord Holder.
Hastily Jaxom turned his inadvertent chuckle into a cough and reached for his cup, displaying an innocent expression when frowns were directed at him. He nodded apologetically at Sangel for interrupting his measured remarks supporting Blesserel's claim. Then Begamon rose and, with a series of rather disjointed comments, tried to sway votes in favor of Terentel. Privately Jaxom thought anyone else would have done better for Terentel than the Nerat Holder.