Klytos raised a forefinger, asking for recognition to speak. Gavin extended his hands out and downward, as if smoothing away the problem. “I don’t come to refight old debates. I understand that there were excellent reasons to be skeptical of what King Garadul intended and what he would be able to do. I have no intention of dwelling on the past.” Except to remind you all that I was right. “Merely summarizing for those who might not have noticed the nuances of the minutes.” He looked at Tisis, as though this last comment were directed at her, and indeed, she flushed.
In truth, his summary was for everyone else, framing the old conversation for his own purposes. He who controls the past, and all that. Gavin could do all this with his brain handing over control of the ship to the first mate. He was thinking furiously. Orholam, Lunna. After all the work I did cultivating her.
Andross Guile moistened his lips. If anything, he looked perversely proud of his son.
Which didn’t mean he wouldn’t yank the rug out from under Gavin as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
For a moment, Gavin wondered. What if Lunna Green had been murdered, but not by the Order? What if his father had done it?
No, that wasn’t Andross Guile’s way. He would bribe a Color, or blackmail her, but not murder. On the other hand, it would be vintage Andross Guile to have a plan to replace each and every one of them, in case they did break the halo or resign. Andross would be ready. That didn’t mean he would get an ideal candidate in place each time, only that he could steer the nomination. Perhaps that was why Tisis wasn’t fully his.
If Andross really was willing to murder a Color, he would have made sure that he murdered one whose replacement was fully his. Right? Otherwise, why risk murder?
Gavin was taking too long. Take the facts as they are, and work with them. Move forward. Figuring out the past can wait. What advantages did having Tisis on the council give him?
The Spectrum expected Gavin to head straight for the discussion of a declaration of war. Then they thought he’d ask to be made promachos again. So Gavin said, “In truth, I don’t think the first thing we should discuss today is the war raging in Tyrea and eastern Atash.”
Klytos raised his finger again. Gavin motioned for him to speak. “We’ve not established that the troubles in Tyrea and eastern Atash are war, Lord Prism,” Klytos said.
He was about to go on, but Gavin knuckled his forehead and said, as if mystified by Klytos’s stupidity, “Precisely. Which is why I said we wouldn’t be talking about it first. We are a deliberative council; such matters should be discussed, but not necessarily first. Like I just said.”
Delara’s orange/red-haloed eyes narrowed. She wanted to talk about war, too, immediately. She clearly hoped Gavin would be the last vote she needed. She never had been very good at the arithmetic of these situations.
“The satrapy of Tyrea was a place of dishonor and war,” Gavin said. “Since Satrap Ruy Gonzalo sided with my brother Dazen, his satrapy was doomed. It waged war, and destruction was visited by its sons on others, and by others’ sons on it. After the war, Tyrea was stripped of her representation on this council and looted-” Seeing Delara’s raised finger, Gavin amended, “-forced to pay reparations that left her destitute. For many good reasons and a few ill, Tyrea became a husk. Satrap Garadul doomed that husk. He made war on Garriston and the Seven Satrapies and this council thereby, and declared himself king. I fought him in Garriston, and I lost. Of course, the good news is that the so-called king was also killed in the last battle.
“There are many things we need to do today and I apologize for the many hours we’re going to spend here-I’ve arranged for refreshments to be brought up in two hours-but the first item is very simple.” Every one of them hated these meetings, and every one of them except Blue and Superviolet hated the formal order to them that made even the simplest resolution take half an hour. By raising the specter of being stuck in the meeting all day, Gavin hoped to make them a little careless. It would especially needle a green. He also did have a history when the White let him preside of tackling whatever business was before them in a logical manner-first agreeing on what everyone could agree on, and then moving forward as efficiently as possible while letting everyone have their say.
“There are people in Tyrea who have now been deprived of their leader-people who didn’t care if he called himself satrap or king. They followed Rask’s father and most of them liked the old man. In the course of a life that is rarely touched by politics, most common folk will simply go along with whoever is giving the orders. They had no reason to think Rask Garadul was illegitimate, and no reason to think his successor is, especially if we who divine Orholam’s will say nothing against the new king-as this Color Prince will no doubt declare himself. So, before we get to the meat of today’s proposals, I suggest we draft a simple resolution, condemning King Rask Garadul for waging war on the Seven Satrapies.” Gavin opened the floor for comments and debate, as if he wanted to get this out of the way.
He stared at Tisis. Beautiful girl.
“It would certainly strike a blow against the legitimacy of this Color Prince,” Delara said. The woman had drafted enough red in her life that her rage was overpowering. Anything that hurt the Color Prince was something she would vote for.
“And the man we’re condemning is dead,” Sadah said. “So we wouldn’t be further alienating a man with whom we might need to make peace in the near future. If we’re able to settle things down in eastern Atash with this man, it would put us in a better negotiating position. We would visibly have to move farther to meet him in the middle, making the halfway point effectively closer to our side of things.” Ah, Sadah, seeing political problems as if they were points to be plotted on a graph. Orholam love her, the fool.
“No, no, no,” Klytos Blue said. “I see what you’re doing here, Lord Prism.”
Gavin lifted an eyebrow, like, What is this moron doing? “Yes, I’m trying to weaken a rebellion before it sweeps up half the lands in the Seven Satrapies,” he said.
“Which is a noble goal that I share,” Klytos said. He glanced over at Andross, but without eyes, Andross couldn’t give him subtle cues of whether Klytos was on the tack Andross wanted him to take. “But even if the man called himself a king, I think that gives him too much prestige.”
“It is what he called himself,” Jia Tolver said impatiently.
“We needn’t give him that moral high ground; he was rebel, nothing more,” Klytos said. In sub-red, he was clearly warmer than before. But Klytos always got nervous when he spoke, even in front of a group this small.
“What would you prefer, then?” Gavin said. “Illegitimate king, so-called king? Illegitimate satrap?”
“Clearly,” Sadah Superviolet said, scratching at one psoriatic arm, “declaring oneself to be a rebel would vacate one’s legitimacy, thus ‘illegitimate satrap’ would be an accurate descriptor.” She clearly intended this as an olive branch to Klytos Blue.
Gavin turned his hands palm up toward Klytos, as if surrendering the issue to him. “Very well, we can back up further. Would you like to dictate the document, Klytos?” Gavin asked.
Klytos hated public speaking. As the Blue, he felt that he should get all the technicalities exactly right on the first try-and he never did. “No, please, go ahead,” he said, as if he were being polite.
Gavin turned to the chief scribe in the room. “By order of the Color Spectrum, with the full imprimatur of the Prism, blessed by Orholam’s radiance, etcetera.”
The woman scribbled in a few lines, skipping space to fill in the official lines.
“I must confess,” Gavin said to the Spectrum as she scribbled, “I’m disappointed something so simple wasn’t done during my absence. Surely such a condemnation would seem pro forma-never mind. Please interject if you have any suggestions.”