That seemed to satisfy most everyone. Seated at the head table, she didn’t have to restrict her comments to two minutes, though taking too much time would cause the five-minute hourglass to come out. Rexei checked her notes discreetly but couldn’t think of anything to add. Grandmaster Toric pointed at one of the hands raised on their side of the table. The question came from the local grandmaster of the Architects Guild.
“Master Longshanks, would you be taking over the temple at the heart of this city, then?” the elderly man asked her. “Presuming we could evict that nest of roaches currently living inside, of course.”
Rexei shuddered. “No. Absolutely not . . . and I must recuse myself from further answers on this particular topic, as my personal opinion is that every Mekha-tainted temple should be destroyed down to its lowest levels, filled in, and paved over with as many tons of prayer-blessed salt as we can sow, to counteract its evils.” She paused, then added honestly, “Though when I push past my revulsion for the place, I can acknowledge that no building, in and of itself, is evil and that someone might find a far better use for it.
“I saw, with my own eyes, all the marks of Mekha erased from every surface in that temple. It is nothing more than a building now . . . and as such, should probably be put to good use. Perhaps by the Hospitallers for an inn, or the Militia for an inner-city barracks.” Mind racing, she shrugged and finished, “In fact, if anything, members of the Holy Guild should be based in the Consulate halls, so that everyone knows we’re there to serve all the guilds.”
“We’ll take that suggestion under advisement,” Toric returned dryly.
At that point, one of the lady Guild Masters whispered in the ear of one of the master-ranked Gearmen not quite on the far side of the table from Rexei. He in turn spoke up, calling for a vote on a brief intermission to stretch and use the refreshing rooms. It passed with alacrity.
Only her own multicity familiarity with the general construction of most Consulates, even large ones like this one, allowed Rexei to beat the others to the nearest one. When she emerged, the line stretched all the way back into the meeting hall. A few of the men and women waiting in the queue looked like they wanted to talk with her, but long-standing tradition said that what was discussed in the meeting hall stayed in the meeting hall during such intermissions. Only when the meeting ended could anything be discussed freely elsewhere.
Of course, that made Rexei reluctant to return to the meeting hall. Taking a detour around the outer corridors ringing the central chamber, Rexei finally found herself at the front entrance. Peering through one of the windows flanking the great double doors, she watched the lamplit flakes of snow swirling thickly down out of the dark sky. Enough had already fallen to coat every surface of the city street, various motorhorses, and more than one motorcart within viewing range by nearly two inches, with more yet to come.
She returned to the hall when her breath misted the glass panes too heavily to see through. Several minutes and another round of refreshments later, the meeting reconvened with a rap of the Consulate mallet. The discussions continued, dragging on for another hour plus, if not longer; somewhere in there, Rexei lost track of just how late it was, other than the realization that a second mug of mulled cider and a sweet biscuit on top of a bit of cheese was no substitute for a thoroughly missed supper.
The general consensus remained that Guildra’s appearance was a genuine manifestation. The corollary to that was Guildra’s desire that Rexei Longshanks be Her Guild Master, Her highest-ranked representative. But while the majority did admit that the concept of Guildra as Patron Goddess was a good idea, no one was willing to implement it just yet. The idea of renaming their kingdom—or at least this corner of it—as Guildara had some enthusiasm behind it as well, but like Guildra Herself, no one was quite ready to make it official.
Rexei knew it was partly because some people were worried that Mekha wasn’t truly gone, even though by all evidence His symbols were gone even from the temple’s outer walls and His victims had been set free by His own priests, who had only released corpses and infants before this day. But that was only a part of it. Mainly, they refrained because no one in the room felt qualified to make such a huge decision as just one town alone, however large or well-graced by resident and visiting Guild Masters the meeting was.
At least there was a consensus about that much, though it was clear there was still much to be discussed. Finally, when there were too many side conversations happening around the edges of the room, Grandmaster Toric rapped his gavel, collecting the respectful attention of everyone in the hall.
“Enough. It is late, and these things are too great to be settled easily, never mind immediately. Master Gearman Terostream has reminded me just now that in order to be a guild, there really should be more members than just the designated Guild Master. I am, therefore, recommending to Master Longshanks that he acquire three apprentices, each having had experience in the requisite minimum of three guilds as any Gearman requires, with the added caveat that each experience be of no less than three months in order to qualify.
“These discussions will be debated at a future date, as yet to be determined. In light of the undoubted jealousy and outrage the ex-priesthood will no doubt experience when they learn of these facts . . . it is strongly suggested that you do not gossip about the identity of the proposed Guild Master of the new Holy Guild . . . just as you would not discuss the identity of . . . mages,” he made himself say. More than one person shuddered and glanced around warily. Gathering himself, the elderly Gearman continued, “The proposal to rename this kingdom as Guildara shall be rediscussed two weeks from today and shall include Consuls and Sub-Consuls selected from our nearest sister cities and related towns. We shall also debate further at that time whether or not to accept and spread the idea of this Guildra, a Goddess of Guilds, as our new Patron Deity. With that being said, I declare this meeting—”
“One more thing, Grandmaster Toric,” Alonnen interjected, cutting him off.
“What now, Guild Master Tall?” Toric asked, rolling his eyes. “Or have you not realized you’ve proposed more than enough for this evening?”
“There is one more thing which needs to be discussed right now, Grandmaster, and that is the distribution and care of the ex-priesthood’s former prisoners. In other words, the mages that have been released, now that Mekha is no longer draining them,” Alonnen stressed. Unlike Toric, he didn’t hesitate to say the M word.
Rexei had forgotten about them. She winced, berating herself silently for having forgotten the men and women who needed care and protection. Others around her winced as well, though more for the way he so openly said mages than for anything else. Using the word snared their attention, however, and she watched Alonnen firmly press the point.