“Our first order of business is brought to us by Guild Master Saranei Grenfallow of the Actors Guild, as well as by a fellow Guild Master, who claims the following piece of business will have some impact on the rest of our discussions. Guild Master Grenfallow, please rise and state your business,” Toric directed her.
The middle-aged redhead nodded graciously and rose. “It has been brought to my attention that a journeyman Actor in our midst has just spent the last two months fooling the priests of this town. After consulting with my guild’s grandmasters, and hearing the, ah, freely expressed testimony of the ex-grandmaster of the former Priests Guild of Heiastowne confirming the deception . . . it is my pleasure to elevate Rexei Longshanks to the rank of Master Actor.”
“Witnessed!” Alonnen called out from his seat among the other Guild Masters. A few others echoed him. Rexei, taken aback, forced herself to move toward Saranei Grenfallow, who was digging in a pouch at her waist.
The medallion dug out was slightly larger than the journeyman discs dangling from Rexei’s necklace. On it was stamped the two masques of the Actors Guild, the crying face of Tragedy and the laughing face of Comedy. She had actually carved similar symbols during her apprenticeship and journeyman days in the Engravers Guild, though not the one that had been used to strike this particular disc.
Stringing it on a bit of crumpled ribbon also pulled from the depths of her pouch, the Guild Master draped the coin around Rexei’s head. “Welcome to the rank of Master Actor, Longshanks. Remember that with this rank comes the responsibility to represent the Guild favorably and well, to teach your apprentices carefully, and to understand that, as in any craft, there is always room for improvement. Even at higher ranks.”
“Thank you,” Rexei murmured, clasping and shaking the hand the older woman offered her. “I, ah, wasn’t expecting this, but thank you.”
“You’ve earned it,” Saranei told her. She turned, still holding Rexei’s hand. “Grandmaster Toric, this young Master Actor is a journeyman Gearman. That means he is also a journeyman in two other guilds. But now that he has a master’s rank . . . ?”
The grandmaster took the hint. “We have a motion to elevate Journeyman Rexei Longshanks to the rank of Master Gearman, and with it, the right to be listed as a permanent Sub-Consul capable of representing any unrepresented Guild wherever he may go, and the right to be granted the rank of Consul on a temporary basis as needed to represent those guilds which he has served in good standing,” Toric stated dryly. “Any objections?”
“Yes, what’s his age?” one of the Guild Masters near the far end of the table asked.
“Almost twenty-two,” Alonnen answered for her. “And the ‘lad’ has served in thirty Guilds. Thirty-one, including my own.” His words stirred murmurs of discussion among the audience and the Guild Masters alike. Raising his voice, Alonnen explained. “The priests kept stumbling across his . . . abilities . . . so he kept moving on to new venues and new identities.”
Sometimes the priests, Rexei thought. But sometimes the grabby hands of men and women who thought a young apprentice, or even a journeyman, could be taken advantage of . . . Not often, but it did happen occasionally. Each time I reported it to the next-highest guildmember and picked a new guild. Not an unfamiliar tune, though many would simply have picked a new master or grandmaster in the same guild to learn under in some other town. But mostly the priests, yes.
“That is an understandable reason for switching careers. I am surprised that you managed to gain journey status in three different guilds, lad,” Toric allowed, nodding his head at Rexei, “but if you can fool the . . . ex-priesthood for two months straight, you’ve clearly earned your Master Actor rank. Any objections? . . . None? Motion granted,” he stated, cracking his mallet on its anvil once. “Journeyman Callis? There you are . . . Fetch a Master Gearman medallion from my office, if you please. Master Rexei, as you are from outside the Heias Precinct, you are invited to join the rest of us as a discussion arbiter. Good luck trying to find a seat, but do stay at that end of the table and help maintain order.”
Bowing, Rexei settled in to stand behind Saranei Grenfallow. The leader of the Actors Guild sighed and patted the bench next to her, shifting just enough to make room for Rexei to sit. Grateful, she sank onto the bench next to the older woman . . . who leaned in and murmured in her ear.
“Good job on fooling everyone that you’re a male, too,” the Guild Master said quietly while the grandmaster paused for a moment or two of quiet discussion among the audience members. “You might want to consider hiding your throat as you get older; men usually have an apple-lump there, while women do not.”
Since there wasn’t much she could say to that, Rexei merely dipped her head.
“The next piece of business is a petition by Guild Master Tall. You also said this one will pertain heavily to the discussion of Mekha’s removal and the fate of this kingdom as well?” Toric asked Alonnen.
“Yes, Grandmaster, although it is not actually my place to say. Master Longshanks has a presentation to make to all of us,” Alonnen stated.
Rexei wished she could shoot him a dirty look. She had just sat down, she was still a bit wobbly from the shock and the honor of her rise in rank—double rise, Gearman as well as Actor—and now he wanted her to leap straight into the heart of their problems? She wanted to scowl and stick out her tongue. But as every Gearman apprentice was taught, one did not act rudely within a Consulate meeting. Particularly when one sat at the head table. Sighing instead, she dug into her messenger bag, down past the wool, and pulled out her notes.
“I can now see why you chose to urge a higher rank onto the young man,” Grandmaster Toric stated dryly as she readied herself.
Alonnen shrugged, elbows braced on the table and hands clasped in front of his face. “I merely pointed out the extraordinary abilities which Longshanks has already displayed. Grand Master Grenfallow chose to enact the elevation under the standards and qualifications required by her guild.”
“Very well. Rise, Master Longshanks, and make your presentation.”
Catching the grandmaster’s nod, Rexei rose, a small sheaf of papers in her hands. She tried not to let them tremble visibly. A bow, and she began.
“Thank you for your attention, Guild Masters, grandmasters, masters, journeymen, and apprentices.” She paused, tightened her gut to speak a little louder so that all could hear, and checked the opening statements she had painstakingly organized on the topmost page. And, since she was an actor, she let her voice sharpen a little with emotion as she began. “As you may know by now, Mekha, the long-burdensome False God of Mekhana, so-called Patron of Engineering, is now gone.
“We have received word that the Convocation of Gods and Man has indeed been reinstated, and with the visible removal of His symbols and His powers from our land, this means that the promises pledged to us by Knight-Priestess Orana Niel have come true. She has confronted the Dead God and presented our blood-signed petitions, gathered over the generations, to have Mekha removed from our land as a False Patron. His powers, ambitions, and accursed hungers shall plague us no more, which is a cause for rejoicing.
“However . . . this leaves us without a Patron God or Goddess . . . and in this new era of the Convocation, any kingdom that lacks a Patron Deity is now at a severe political, economical, and theological disadvantage. Should our neighboring lands decide they wish to invade us, we will have no Divine energies to lend to our militia in thwarting any would-be conquerors. We shall have no voice at the Convocation and no representatives. We will be nothing . . . unless we select, as swiftly as possible, a new Patron Deity.