Several other Colors voiced their approval.
“I agree,” Gavin said, “but pardon me, I’m still presiding here today, and we’ll still follow the proper procedure. You wish to dissolve Seers Island as a satrapy?”
“Yes!” Tisis said.
“Then you’ll need a supermajority to pass your resolution. As we’ve just said, dissolving a satrapy requires a supermajority.”
“Fine.” He could see others looking around the table, sliding the beads. Would anyone hold out on this?
They brought the resolution. Several of the Colors looked at Gavin like he was insane. Why would he pull such a thing, and then allow it to be rescinded immediately?
The White knew. He could see it in the tightness of her face. And Andross knew. He was rubbing the bridge of his nose, where his heavy dark spectacles had worn lines into his skin.
Tisis, furious, dictated the resolution. Gavin made no objection. When the head scribe brought it to him for his inspection, he nodded and handed the document to Tisis first.
“And on whose behalf are you signing, Tisis?” Gavin asked.
“My own,” she said, as if it were a trap.
“Our service on the Spectrum is never on our own behalf, child,” the White said. She sounded tired.
Tisis sneered. Unwise. She was mad at Gavin, not the White, and it never paid to sneer at the White. “So be it. I sign on behalf of…” All the blood drained out of her face. Her voice dropped to a whisper. She was Ruthgari and her seat was used for Ruthgar’s benefit, but it was a seat held in protectorship. “I sign for Tyrea,” she whispered.
“There is no satrapy of Tyrea,” Gavin said. “Your position no longer exists. As this meeting is a closed meeting of the Spectrum, you’re excused.”
Dead silence fell on the room.
“You can’t do this,” Tisis said.
“Not alone. We did it together. You helped.”
Gavin’s Blackguards were at his side, somehow sensitive to the imminent threats.
Tisis looked around the table in disbelief.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be right back,” Klytos said. “We’ll have the vote immediately. It’ll be five minutes.”
Tisis sneered. “You idiot, you think he took it this far without a plan?” She stood sharply and strode out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
“As the satrap of Seers Island hasn’t yet appointed his Color, the Prism holds his vote in trust,” Gavin said. “And believe me, he wouldn’t want me to use his vote to disband his satrapy.”
Two votes then for him. He gave them a second to finish the arithmetic. Tisis was gone. They needed a supermajority of five, so Gavin only needed four to stop them. No tie was possible, so the White couldn’t vote. The Black could never vote. They knew Delara would vote with him because she needed his help on the war. Jia Tolver always voted with him. Four.
And that was if all the others broke Andross Guile’s way.
“Is there anyone who wishes to call the vote?” Gavin asked. Daring them. Supremely self-confident.
“I do,” Klytos said immediately, finding his courage somewhere.
“Is there a second?”
“ Raka,” Andross Guile said to Klytos. It was a heavy insult. “You want to put a loss in the records and establish precedent?”
Klytos paled, then stared around the room, looking for allies. Even those who might have voted with him turned away.
“I–I-wish-”
Rather than let him withdraw the motion, Gavin said quickly, “The motion fails for lack of a second.”
“I move we adjourn,” Arys said. “I’ve a babe to nurse, and I think all of us have messengers to send.”
Gavin had expected as much. “One moment. I want to say one thing,” he said as the Colors were scooting their seats back, getting ready to leave. “You did this. It didn’t have to be this way. If you’d listened to me, Tyrea would still exist, and the Color Prince wouldn’t be rampaging across Atash. If you’d sent a bare thousand soldiers or a hundred drafters, we could have defeated King Garadul. But you, you sent a delegation to study the problem.”
“Peace should be maintained at almost any cost,” Klytos interrupted. “As the blessed Adraea Coran-”
“War is a horror, yes. I know. I know. And pacifism, which you claim to value so highly? Pacifism is a virtue indistinguishable from cowardice.” He sneered. “This war could have been ended before it began in half a dozen ways. If you’d taken your boot off the throat of Tyrea one second before it got strong enough to throw you off, this wouldn’t have happened. I tell you this, if you won’t do what’s right, I will. Things are going to change around here.”
Andross Guile yawned.
“Starting with this,” Gavin snapped. “Father, you’ve treated Kip like a bastard. He’s not. His mother was a free woman that I elevated to a ladyship during the war. As promachos, that was my right. We married in secret because I was young and I was afraid of what you would say. But we did marry. That’s why I’ve never married since. She’s dead now, but she deserves this of me: Kip is my son, not a bastard, a full son. That you’ve cast aspersions on this, that you’ve doubted my own word is, I’m afraid, further evidence of your advancing senility. You’ll join the Freeing this year, my son. If you don’t feel you can hold out for another eight months I will be at your disposal for a more private ceremony sooner.”
No one moved. No one even breathed. A small, detached part of Gavin marveled. He could dissolve an entire satrapy and unseat one of the Colors, and they were perturbed-but see him cross his father and they were flabbergasted.
“Senility?” Barely more than a whisper. Dangerously amused.
And now we find out how far gone to red he is.
But Andross Guile was as cold as an old red could be. He saw the trap. If he screamed, if he lost his temper, he’d be making Gavin’s case.
“If that is what my Lord Prism believes, I shall of course go to the Freeing at the time you appoint. As must surely we all. I only wonder what I have done to offend you? Why do you lash out at me, my son?”
A nice seed to plant, father. Well played. Yes, the Prism can send me to my grave. He can send any of us to our graves. Think about that. Turn it so that I look unreasonable instead.
“No,” Gavin said. “No. You endangered my son. On purpose. No more lies. Grinwoody, take him out.”
“Son,” Andross Guile said, and now his voice was tight. “You will show me the proper reverence.”
“Ignoring you when you act the fool and removing you from the public eye when you disgrace yourself is the proper reverence. Grinwoody!”
Andross Guile’s fingers trembled. His jowls quivered. But he controlled himself. After a long moment, he turned and left, led by Grinwoody.
No one said anything. No one met Gavin’s eyes.
“It would behoove us,” Gavin said, “to begin considering who may be the next Red. I will be amenable to suggestions.” I know I’ve pushed things; I know that I’ve frightened you, and to make up for it, I’ll let one of you have what you want. I’ll let one of you place your woman or man on the Red seat, and not try to place my own. Tit for tat.
You want to plant seeds, father? Let’s do.
“Now, before we adjourn this meeting,” Gavin said, “unless there are any other motions?”
No one said anything.
“Delara?” Gavin prompted.
Her eyes widened as she caught his implication. “I move we declare war,” she said.
“Seconded,” Arys said.
“Seers Island votes for war,” Gavin said. “The Prism votes for war.”
“Atash votes for war,” Delara Orange said.
“Blood Forest votes for war,” Arys Sub-red said.
“But the Red is-” Klytos Blue said.
“You wish to leave the room during a vote to fetch him?” Gavin said. “If you go, your vote won’t be recorded.”
“You can’t!” Klytos said.
Gavin spoke instantly, but slowly, enunciating each word, seizing control of even the speed of the conversation. “Those are very dangerous words to say to me.”
Pregnant silence. Cowards sometimes find their spines at inconvenient moments. But then Klytos withered.