Broken Rule | Chapter 12
This post is chapter twelve of my not-previously-published epic fantasy novel Broken Rule, which I'm serializing here on Steemit.
The story so far:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapters 3 & 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Arturo Boroni, Master Wizard, Pathfinder of the Veil of Death, and advisor to those with power and influence in the capital of Torzano, hated channeling the spirits of the dead. The process involved blacking out, so he had no memory of what happened while he was under the spirit's influence. Furthermore, long tradition passed down from his master, and his master before him, said that the channeling session must be kept secret, even from the channeler, lest the spirits become angered and refuse to favor the channeler with their presence. Arturo wasn't sure that was true, but it was too big a risk to test. Channeling worked differently for everyone. Arturo's master could do little more than grunt and mumble under a spirit's influence, but if given a pen and paper would write with blistering speed. When Arturo had been an apprentice, it had always been his job to burn the papers after the seance. Channeling was a large reason that Arturo had such an elevated position in Torzani society, but it was a constant thorn in his side that his part in these rituals was a complete mystery to him.
As distasteful as channeling the average spirit was, Arturo especially hated channeling the spirits of the saints for Bishop Uberto. It felt vaguely wrong, somehow, to be so close to the saints. Uberto was constantly adding relics to his collection, fingerbones of the saints and the like, and would often bring them to Arturo so that Uberto could commune with the saint in question while pondering some question of theology. Arturo could never refuse, of course, since the church provided the grand villa where he lived.
As much as Arturo hated channeling for Uberto, he must have impressed Uberto greatly during their sessions, because he found himself placed in greater and greater confidence by the bishop. Perhaps Uberto thought that Arturo absorbed some holy flavor though frequent contact with the saints, like a mushroom in a stew. Today he was walking with Uberto to a small but well-regarded cafe where they would join Lord Ignatio Moretti, Speaker of the Council of Lords, for lunch. Meetings between members of the Council of Lords and influential clergymen were always intricate political dances in Torzano. Who would invite whom? Where would the meeting take place? Would the lord be forced to humble himself in the priest's monastic cell? Would the priest be intimidated by the opulence of the lord's villa? Bishop Uberto, the most powerful and influential priest in Torzano, and perhaps the world, had invited Ignatio, the most powerful political figure in Torzano, to this cafe. As Arturo and Uberto arrived, they discovered that Ignatio had arrived early and paid the proprietor to shoo all the other diners away. Was this some counter-move in response to the bishop taking initiative by sending the invitation? Was there any reason behind it, or was Ignatio simply keeping up appearances? Arturo was always baffled by the intricate ballet that took place whenever the powerful congregated.
Arturo had dressed in his finest clothes when he had been summoned to meet with the bishop, but felt overdressed when he saw that the bishop was wearing his simplest white vestments and an unassuming skullcap. Arturo felt even worse when he discovered that Ignatio had selected rather subdued attire for the meeting. Would dressing more extravagantly than the Speaker be a faux pas? There was nothing to be done about it now, if it was. Arturo wished he had a better handle on how these games were played so he wouldn't be so frequently caught short. On the other hand, perhaps others were more adept because their lives depended on it. In his current position he had the luxury of observing the show without being compelled to perform.
The two of them joined Ignatio at his table, and a young, nervous waiter took their orders. Ignatio selected a beef dish with a butter sauce, the bishop requested some fish prepared with lemon and mint, and Arturo asked for chicken roasted with herbs. They sipped wine and made small talk until the waiter returned with their food, at which point Uberto turned the conversation toward the true purpose of the meeting.
“Lord Conti's scheming in Tarkannan has gone too far,” Uberto began. “His efforts to destabilize the throne and undermine Radoslav are unacceptable. Radoslav is a great friend to the Church of the Most Holy. We should not be fomenting usurpation, no matter how many shipping contracts Conti thinks it will buy him.”
Ignatio took his time chewing his food, presumably to give himself more time to formulate a response. “Your Excellency, I find these allegations shocking.” It was a polite lie, obvious to everyone at the table. Enrico Conti had married Ignatio's sister, and Ignatio had given him a lordship and a seat on the Council as a wedding present. It would be inappropriate for him to openly acknowledge some of his brother-in-law's less savory activities. If anything shocked Ignatio, it would be that the bishop was so well informed about events happening hundreds of miles away. “I shall investigate this rumor thoroughly. Regardless of the provenance, I must say that Radoslav has not been a great friend of Torzano. The taxmen are ruthless at his ports, and he favors the Old Harbor proctors far too much in business dealings.”
“Be that as it may, there are bigger concerns. This Gavril professes to be a follower of the Most Holy, but he is half Garnman on his mother's side, and we both know that those heathens tend to favor their mothers more than their fathers. Would you prefer a follower of Korrina on the Tarkannan throne?”
“Excellency, you know I am a pious man.” Another polite lie. “And I would never act against the interests of the Most Holy.” This was more likely true. Many of the lords of Torzano were pious men, and Ignatio wouldn't want to make them into enemies. “Are you sure you aren't overestimating the importance of this? You said yourself that he gives all appearance of being a brother in the faith.”
“I feel that it is important, Ignatio, and so do my friends. As you know, many of my friends sit on the Council. Several of them near the end of their lives, and have sought my advice on whether to sell their seats before they pass on to the next world. I would hate to have to advise them to sell to Lord Fiorrini.” Arturo was amazed at how bold the bishop had just been. Lord Fiorrini was Ignatio's chief rival on the Council of Lords. With a handful more seats under his control, he could displace Ignatio as Speaker. Usually meetings like this turned on subtle insinuations and veiled suggestions, but the bishop had just made an almost open threat. How would Ignatio respond?
Ignatio drained his glass of wine and took a few more bites of his beef before he spoke again. “Excellency, I see now that you believe that this rumor is a greater concern than I had initially judged. I shall follow up personally. If Lord Conti has indeed acted injudiciously, then I shall send him to Kubara to make amends.”
“Thank you, Ignatio. I know how you dislike getting involved in petty matters, so I will take your action in this regard as a personal favor.”
Ignatio nodded acceptance, the agreement reached. He signaled to the waiter to bring dessert.