BECMI Chapter 357– Parliamentary Proceedings
Zanzyr’s Parliament was chaotic at the best of times, and these were not the best of times.
The MacKlannister Clan was gone, not a single Wizard of the family left alive, and most of their families ushered along with them into the afterlife they’d never respected.
Prince Cannarl was thus quite dead, and so were all of his heirs. A full Principality stood open to be claimed, and to say there was some hot politicking going on was almost an understatement. The amount of Charms, Geases, Suggestions, Hypnosis, Curses, and other effects being flung around was matched only by the Dispels and Removes and other spells wrenching them off their recipients, and the quick retreat of those too weak to withstand such magicks from the Parliament chambers. There were promises and threats being thrown back and forth both secretly and openly as Princes and lesser Nobles jockeyed for position and advantage.
Multiple dominions were open and in play, which meant promotions of status, wealth, position, and title, chain effects of the promotions which could effect the status of dozens of nobles!
A Principality coming into play was unheard of. The wishes of the Caer inhabitants meant nothing in this matter: this was a chance to become the Prince of an existing Principality, and set yourself and your family up for generations!
I walked into this mess with Princess Brittabelle. Isadora McMikal and Hammel Guntervund followed behind us both, glancing over the play and the players.
Judge Jughamy was being only marginally effective as arguments raged back and forth, spiteful flashes of light in the eyes or jeering illusions mocking one another as Wizards of power ‘debated’ back and forth and largely ignored the Prince of Lhamsa.
There were no stand-ins today, because lesser Wizards would simply be overcome and made puppets of whoever overcame their wills.
There were also no Caer lords left, and the only member of House Caergard left alive, Viscount Ekrin, had no Prince and was effectively a free soul being courted on all sides for the additional votes he could bring to bear.
There was not a single member of House Bulgarov represented here, either. That was mostly because every one of the lesser nobles of that House were also quite dead, as were their heirs. Even my dear grand-uncle Boris, mouthpiece of Bulgarov and Morphail for countless years, was utterly absent, not even a courtier or lawyer taking his place.
The vampire hunters had come hunting, the Hounds of Heaven were hounding the werefolk, and Transyvia was undergoing a purge of stakes and fire and silver.
The Archduke of Westbursh had the inside track to take the Principality of Caeledon, as he was even-tempered, had no real enemies, and was known to be a wise and restrained, knowledgeable spellcaster… and the Master of Waters, along with having no family or truly allied vassals to speak of, which meant he would be incredibly weak in voting power.
Of course, there were many who would contest that, unable to give up on the chance themselves. Even if they had no chance, they naturally would wheedle for as many benefits as they could extort for backing his claim.
The arguments and horse-trading could rage for years, paralyzing most other business of the Council… particularly any kind of response to the undead hunters who had torn through Caergard and were now raging throughout Transyvia, hunting undead and werefolk alike with little mercy.
Avanlit Erewahr, Belle’s representative, looked particularly gratified when Princess Brittabelle showed up, shaking her head at the ruckus taking place all around as Wizards talked over and insulted one another, tried to peer into one another’s thoughts, flamboyantly made spectacles of themselves and their magic, and generally got very little done.
“You seem to have things well in hand, Avan,” Belle said warmly as she swept to her seat in her elegant gown of blue and white silks. Right next to her, I sat down in scarlets and blacks, looking more like a member of Colorajo than a guest of Erendyl, save for my unnaturally white skin.
It actually wasn’t all that humorous a comment. “As you predicted, Belle, the slightest sign of support for any idea presented rapidly shifts the voting paradigm to stymie others, resulting in complete voting paralysis,” Avanlit smiled knowingly. Erendyl had a lot of voting power, once second only to Verdain after taking control of Highwall.
But Verdain’s power had suffered here, as at least six lesser nobles and two members of the Grandmaster’s own family were revealed as lycanthropes. Most had been killed by either outraged citizens or lupin teams come quietly hunting for them, and all the survivors had fled Zanzyr quickly, with lupin packs literally hounding them enthusiastically to make them pay for their deeds.
The dominion of Lesset stood empty, its revealed White Wolf Morvune, Baron of Lesset, having fled with many other lycanthropes once he was exposed. With him had gone his voting power, and Verdain actually had fewer votes than Erendyl did at the moment… and certainly fewer spellcasters.
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That meant there were a lot of speculative looks being thrown the way of Princess Belle, as her votes could instantly swing any serious proposals rapidly and force a rapid scrambling of positions in reaction, either to oppose or merely withdrawing support and rendering a motion useless. With nearly a third of the dominions of the nation silent and without votes, those who remained had chances to gain greatly if they could but claim some of the ruler-less lands.
They had no idea what was coming, of course.
The Grandmaster seemed to be absent at the moment, although his younger brother Richard Jean-Arc, a noteworthy fop and rake and schemer eager for power, was here to represent him. He seemed to be arguing vociferously with Prince Drakkar von Jaggenfel over the fate of the Barony of Morlay, conveniently located near the borders of Inclu and ripe for takeover. Supposedly Inclu soldiers were already in the barony, helping drive out the werebeasts there and establishing themselves in heroic manner for a follower of Prince Drakkar to be appointed there… and to dissuade any other Wizard who might be appointed from joining another power, naturally enough.
Prince Mahar Tilian of Vascouz was loudly berating Verdain for daring to tolerate the presence of the Clerics who had popped up, making sure the Curse of the Lycanthropes didn’t spread to those they wounded. This simple service had made the hunt for the werefolk far more spirited, as the hunters knew they wouldn’t be joining those they hunted.
It had also started a huge undercurrent of demand for Clerical services, as without them, there was no protection against the werebeasts coming back and spreading their Curse! Arcane magic had no power over the Curse of Lycanthropy in any of its forms.
Prince Drakkar was playing offense and defense, derided for being unable to stop the revolution that was butchering the necromancers of Zanzyr and their undead troops, and hurriedly presenting multiple candidates to take over open dominions and moving to secure borders suddenly active with very interested parties. His using the Grand Army of Zanzyr as a political tool was not appreciated by the other Princes, who were interfering with his requests and as a result raids were picking up in many of the border dominions.
Prince Danealu Argencal of Iendyl was deal-breaking and deal-making in cold-blooded fashion, backing this person and that, than abandoning them for greater benefits else where with icy ruthlessness. He was both foiling and being foiled by Prince Guilimani of Fuireze, whose House Nerocuori was determined that House Argencal gain nothing from all of this conflict. Their enmity was to the point the Princes had recalled all their Banners of troops and were engaged in very illegal skirmishing and raiding across their long borders.
House Colorajo was in its element, of course, the Zorozo alternately laughing off all the excitement and stirring the pot up more with sly innuendos and half-promises. Princess Dona Melazei seeming to be languorously enjoying the atmosphere while keeping track of everything going on with razor-sharp focus… especially the way House Erendyl was stirring the pot and largely staying out of the mess without committing.
House Lhamsa was very much concerned about the threat of the nomads to the east, who maintained their eternal harassment… but had not looked to push with force after being repelled from Skullhorn Pass. Their attempts to get everyone to focus on external threats was mostly being ignored, taken as begging for military aid. They were getting nowhere, with their nominal allies in Colorajo refusing to commit anything at this crucial time.
Add to this the politicking for positions, the potential shifting of Houses that might come with a noble moving to a better territory, meaning lesser nobles were not exactly following the lines of their current Houses, and indeed Parliament was a fun and active place right now.
Shifting mental focus to the Night Rose from the Rising Sun was quite a strange shift for me, moving from pure focus and intensity to social awareness and manipulation. Body language and the slightest of facial expressions were like shouting at me about one’s intentions and ambitions, lip-reading was automatic, posturing and influence subtle and direct plain to my eyes as I rapidly began to juggle around bonds and influence and who was playing who, who was being played, who was playing the players, and who was winning and losing.
Who should be a winner and a loser was a different story, and also something we were tracking. Suffice it to say, most of House Argencal and House Nerocuori were on that list, and House Tilian wasn’t much better. Colorajo… was situational.
But it was time to play for power.
“Deliver to Tilian on behalf of a fiery rose,” I murmured quietly to Avanlit, handing over a scroll. Belle’s representative looked at me sharply, then at Belle, who just nodded once. Trying to hide a smile, she rose, followed by many a suspicious eye, and walked gracefully over to Prince Mahar.
The fiery-haired Prince Mahar broke off discussions with the Viscount of Carnaburro to regard the Sidhe elfin with an unfriendly expression. Their Houses had always been rivals, both claiming to be the first to settle this area, and Tillian was deathly opposed to any proposals that granted the Erewahr clan greater power or influence.
“A delivery on behalf of a fiery rose,” Avanlit smiled as she whispered the words, and had the distinct pleasure of seeing Mahar’s coppery face drain instantly to almost pale whiteness. His hand almost jerked forward to take the scroll, as if he didn’t want to, but did not dare otherwise.
Viscount Olxney read the moment and bowed himself away, eyes darting between the two, as indeed many were watching the interaction as the representative of Erendyl glided gracefully back to her Princess… who had another scroll waiting in hand.
His fingers shaking, Prince Mahar opened up the scroll to read it… and it unrolled of its own accord, floating up before him and emitting a fiery golden light, while letters and runes of fire upon it glowed, flared, and burned away before his eyes, uninterpretable by the very many curious eyes all turning to watch this event as other conversations and grandstanding were eclipsed by the moment.
The golden light and feeling of flames washing over the soul faded away, and the Scroll burned up, leaving only the image of a rose aflame hovering in the air before him for a moment.
Every Frier of House Tilian present in the chamber gasped and staggered at the same instant, including the Prince. They pawed for their seats, eyes wide and aghast at what they were feeling.
The eyes moved to the assembled elves and humans of House Erendyl, waiting there unmoved and clearly unsurprised at this development… and Avanlit, tapping another scroll in her hand with a faint smile on her face.