Owain graciously congratulated his rival on the vote, to which an equally gracious Finitan replied that the night was young.
Fiacre and Lillylight finished their count next, both returning Owain stalwarts as their Representatives; though the mayoral vote was split nearly fifty-fifty. Jeavons, Silvarum and Haxpen returned Finitan supporters (Balogg among them), and gave him a large proportion of the vote. Nighthouse and Bellis elected Owain supporters; but Myco, Vaji, Cobara and Tosella put Finitan supporters forward to the Council. They also increased Finitan's overall vote to sixty per cent. When the results came in from Abad, Drupe, Igadi, Padua and Fiacre, Owain had only one more Representative, and Finitan's vote had increased to sixty-eight per cent. Zelda produced Owain's last Representative; Pholas Park and Lisieux Park were solid Finitan districts.
'We've got it, Topar hissed elatedly as Finitan's vote rose to seventy-one percent.
'Oh Lady, Finitan muttered, he seemed dazed, but nothing could remove the smile from his face.
Ilongo, Neph and Drupe declared, putting Finitan's percentage up another point. That just left the Sampalok vote. It wouldn't affect the result now, but it mattered. Edeard started down at the eight tables where the ballots were counted, willing them to finish. Kanseen and Macsen were still walking between the clerks, backing up the adjudicators. There had been more disputes on those eight tables than the rest of Malfit Hall put together. The Grand Master of the Guild of Clerks himself had been over a dozen times during the night to make his final judgement on smudged crosses. Finally, the Clerk Master assigned to supervise the Sampalok count stood at the foot of the stairs and announced: It is given this day that Gregorie is duly elected as the people of Sampalok's Representative to Council.
'He's ours, Topar whispered incredulously.
'And that mayoral candidate Finitan collected fifty-one percent of the vote, the Clerk Master concluded.
Thousands of people were waiting in Golden Park, despite the chill late-night air. There was a lot of movement after Sampalok declared. Dejected Owain supporters headed home, shaking their heads in dismay and muttering dark disapproval. Finitan supporters surged forward right up to the Outer Circle Canal. A line of fit young constables had a struggle to keep some of the over-eager ones from falling into the water.
Finitan emerged on to the balcony overlooking Golden Park, and the cheering reached deafening levels. He began his thank you speech. Not all the faithful listened. Bottles were being passed round. Groups of strolling musicians were playing, urging people to dance. The party in Golden Park would last until dawn.
Edeard was one of those who didn't bother listening to the speech. He made his way back to the Culverit mansion where an overjoyed Kristabel was waiting, and they celebrated in their own fashion.
Kristabel made Edeard wait. He couldn't believe it. Tradition was one thing, but he stood at the front of the Lady's church all by himself with the farsight of the city focused on him as minute after painful lonely minute dragged on. Tradition said the groom wasn't allowed to use his own farsight to check and see if the bride was on her way. So he just stood there and endured.
The smell of pollen — sweet when he and Dinlay walked into the church, was now overpowering, threatening to make his eyes water. It seemed as if half the Iguru Plain had been stripped of foliage to decorate the huge church. The band from the Musicians Guild played on and on, repeating the same tune which had become more like a funeral dirge. As the same terrible notes began once more he gritted his teeth, wishing he'd pleaded a lot harder with Dybal to play for him; but Dybal was only going to sing at the reception gala tonight. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. In front of him the thirty-foot-high snow-marble statue of the Lady gazed down benignly, her arms uplifted to summon the Skylords to Querencia. The sculptor had captured a most enigmatic expression. It was almost as if she was giving her congregation a judgemental glance. Certainly, anyone standing right at the front of the pews — curiously, on the exact spot he had to wait — was singled out for her disapproval. Shifting from one foot to another he considered that she must have known that one day Edeard would be married in her church, that her timesense had warned her of the sacrilege. Why else single him out to glare at?
Another lost minute. His mind began to conjure up all sorts of horrors which could have beset Kristabel. He knew she'd set off from the Culverit mansion, tradition at least allowed him that much. The same tradition which stated the bride was only allowed to change her mind between her home and the church.
But Kristabel wouldn't do that to him. So she could have been assassinated, or kidnapped, or the gondola capsized. Because Kristabel wouldn't abandon him.
So where in Honions is she?
Edeard started to cheat, using the city's senses to examine the church. Not farsight. So no breach of tradition. Damn, I even think like a lawyer now. Just about every Grand Family in Makkathran was represented. Notable exceptions were Mistress Florrel who had announced a headache an hour before the service was due to begin and gave her apologies for non-attendance. The Gilmorns were also absent, as were the Norrets, who counted Lieutenant Eustace among their number. Captain Larose, however, was there, and looked most amused by the Waterwalker's discomfort. Grand Master Owain was in the pews reserved for Guild dignitaries. Losing the election didn't seem to have affected him at all, he retained his slightly cool persona throughout every encounter. Macsen and Kanseen were almost invisible amid the District Masters, their colourful robes blending in flawlessly. Kanseen wasn't showing yet, though of late she'd started making some very barbed comments about which would arrive first, the mansion or the baby. The section reserved for the groom's family was unusually small, Kristabel had appropriated several of his pews for her own family and friends. But Edeard thought he was well supported with a dozen constables and Bijulee and Dybal and Setersis and Isoix and Topar and others he'd met during his time in the city, headed up by Mayor Finitan himself. His one true regret was Salrana who had sent a polite note of regret claiming her duties wouldn't allow her to attend. She was the closest thing he had to family, but since the day of banishment they'd been completely estranged. Every attempt he'd made to be reconciled had been rebuffed. He knew she was still at the church in Ysidro, devoutly fulfilling her duties. The few times he'd longsighted her, he'd been saddened by the way the joy seemed to have gone from her life. She'd aged inexplicably, becoming withdrawn and sombre. This was a cooler more resolute Salrana.
He regretted his snatched glimpses, and quickly desisted. To his dismay he had to admit that she had changed, as he had. The Salrana and Edeard who lived in Ashwell were gone for ever now.
The sound of cheering seeped into the church, and Edeard's heart started to beat faster. Their marriage wasn't an official holiday, though there'd been a big crowd outside the church when he and Dinlay arrived.
Finally! The band curtailed their wretched tune. He heard the rustle of cloth as the Novice quire rose to their feet. Then the light changed perceptibly as the big doors swung open. Dinlay stepped up beside him, smiling wide. 'Too late to back out now, he murmured to Edeard.
Any scathing reply was lost as the organist began the wedding march. Edeard had never heard the giant keyboards being played before, the sound was overwhelming. Then the Novices began their accompanying melody. He was impossibly terrified and elated at the same time.
Julan appeared beside him, his pride shining with the power of a dawn sun. And she was there at his side. Edeard nearly let out a whimper of relief. Mirnatha giggled at his expression; the little girl was wearing a pink and white dress that transformed her into some enchantingly sweet fairy creature, an image only spoilt when she grinned her devilsome grin.