Moira canted her head to one side. “Nobody doubts your fervor, Balco. But the longevity of governments depends not on force but persuasion. And while violence can be persuasive, it can often simply add more fuel to the fire. I would hear from Scorio what he thinks the solution to the problem should be. I’ve yet to meet a young and ambitious man who doesn’t think he’s got it all figured out.”
Laughter circled the table and Scorio flushed. “The solution is simple. Cut the taxes, open the wards for the poor to move into, and address the failure of the Empyreal Prophecy. That’s the minimum. Better yet would be to allow a member of the people to sit on the Council to give voice to their concerns—”
This caused an uproar, with Balco throwing up his hands, Amity turning to address Nova sternly, while several others laughed scornfully and shook their heads.
Scorio grimaced and fell silent. He’d gain nothing by shouting over the clamor.
“Pyre Lady Moira,” said Nova, her voice cutting through the voices like a knife through silk. “How has House Hydra decided to handle this crisis?”
“Charnel Duchess, the situation is still developing. It is true that there has been discontent since the failure of the prophecy, but how could that be otherwise? Every Great Soul has felt despair and had to reckon with their own contributions since the three Imperators fell.”
There were nods all round. Even Davelos pursed his lips and nodded subtly.
“That being said, the Council of Autocrators has taken a patient and understanding approach to the outbreak of civil unrest. They are guided in this by centuries of experience. Outbreaks of civil disobedience are akin to fires. You only fan them to greater destructive power by giving them air. Often they will collapse under their own weight if patiently allowed to flame out.”
Scorio went to protest but Moira turned to address him directly. “That’s not to say that will happen this time. This unrest appears to be graver than past moments of turmoil. Tomb Spark Scorio has voiced serious causes for concern. And while his solutions are facile, there may be merit in examining them further. Certain wards could be opened to new residents, taxation rates could be studied and modulated. I sincerely doubt that Autocrators would welcome a new full member to the Council, but perhaps a middle ground could be reached, such as a non-voting member who could still speak directly to the Council on matters that pertain to the population’s interests? I can say with full confidence that House Hydra values—no—cherishes those people who make our ability to wage war possible. It stands to nobody’s interests to allow Bastion to descend into anarchy.”
There were grumbles around the table, notably from Balco, but nobody dared openly disagree with her.
Scorio restrained the urge to smile wryly. Looked like a Pyre Lady commanded more respect than a Red Lister Tomb Spark.
“Pyre Lord Amity?” Nova turned to the weathered man a few seats down. “How speaks House Chimera?”
Amity tugged at his beard. “It’s well known that House Chimera has little interest in such matters. We’ve a nominal presence on the Council, and spend most of our time in the deeper echelons of Hell. Still, Bastion is the foundation of all our efforts. Each crop of new students represents not just rejuvenation, but a chance at a great hero being reborn. House Chimera is thus, as always, in favor of whatever measures allow us to remain focused on what matters. We’re fine with whatever brings back peace and allows us to place our full focus on the Pit.”
Nova nodded. “House Basilisk and Kraken are currently without representatives present, but I’m confident both Eira and Octavia would vote in favor of what you both have said. That being said, this is an opportune time for me to make an announcement.”
Everybody stilled.
Nova rose to her feet and placed her fingertips on the obsidian table. She looked gravely about the council. “I will be leaving the Fiery Shoals and withdrawing preeminence from the Rascor Plains in order to journey deeper into Hell to offer direct aid against the Pit.”
Scorio tensed, immediately aware that this announcement presaged all manner of changes that he couldn’t begin to guess at. Desiree appeared unsurprised; of course she’d known. Moira? Her eyes had narrowed slightly in calculation. Amity was aghast. All three members of Manticore had turned to each other to engage in silent communication.
“I know this must come as a shock, but I now believe I can do more good deeper in Hell than here.” Nova’s soft voice brooked no denial. “I will, of course, ensure that I leave the Rascor Plains and Bastion in a new and stable configuration. This unrest in Bastion is an excellent opportunity for me to assert myself and my vision for a new political alliance that will benefit all.”
A heavyset and gruff looking older man with a thick beard and bulbous nose placed two scarred hands on the table and leaned forward. “With all due respect, Duchess, have you appraised the Iron Tyrant of this?”
Nova inclined her head. “I shall do so after this meeting. The Celestial Consortium is of course a prime consideration in this affair, and I will give it all necessary attention so as to safeguard the flow of Gold to the Iron Weald. Do not worry, Captain Thorne. I do not plan to leave until everything is arranged to my satisfaction.”
Captain Thorne sat back, clearly still troubled but willing to bite his tongue.
“From this moment we must move quickly,” continued Nova. “I leave for the Fury Spires when this council adjourns and will return to transport those needed to forge a new peace in Bastion thereafter. I appreciate your concern. Believe me when I say I make this decision in full awareness of its consequences. But I also believe we can create a new order that shall rule equitably in my stead, and that life in Bastion and on the Plains shall be much improved by it.” She smiled. “Perhaps, on some level, my presence has allowed complacency to steal in where there should only have been forthright resolve and altruism.”
“Charnel Duchess?” Scorio surprised himself by standing up. “If I may, do you have a sense yet of how you will rule on the brewing revolution?”
Nova considered him. “I will be instigating many changes, Scorio. I will confer first with the Autocrators in Bastion, but also wish to speak with the leaders of this movement before passing judgment. Do you believe you can bring together those who best represent the people’s interests?”
She would speak with them? That was more than he’d dared hope for. He was grinning, he realized, and quickly composed himself. “Of course, Duchess. I know just whom to talk to.”
“Excellent.” Nova inhaled deeply and gazed around the group. She was nervous, Scorio realized. Was she not as confident as she seemed about her departure? No; he was imagining things. “A new chapter will soon begin for us all. Change can be frightening, but also a unique time of opportunity. Rest assured that I have concrete plans as to how I will leave matters in my wake, and that Desiree and I are satisfied that they will not only preserve the peace but bolster prosperity and better relations between the Houses and the people of Bastion. One day I believe you will look back at my departure as the start of a new and improved era.”
Again Scorio scanned those seated around the desk. Everyone was fighting to greater and lesser degrees of success to school their features, but even he could read the prevalent emotion: fear and uncertainty.
Nobody dared contradict the White Queen to her face, but it was clear that almost everyone present regarded her departure as a catastrophe.
Interlude - Praximar
The lantern was trimmed so that it cast a pool of warm light over the desk and little more. Beyond its golden glow were hints of bookcases whose shelves were laden with private tomes, expensive curios, treasures of a lesser order, and personal mementos from past lives. The room was chill, but a glass mug of ironwort tea steamed upon its coaster, and Praximar lay a woolen blanket over his knees as he settled into his upholstered leather armchair.