Above His Proper Station (29 page)

Anrel met Lord Allutar's gaze. “Why, no, my lord. I think that would render the entire exercise pointless. While we would retain our general immunity, I think any crimes or improprieties that contributed to the present crisis must be dealt with, no matter who committed them. Yes, this would mean that you and I must both face justice. I am prepared to accept the consequences of my actions, Lord Allutar. Are
you
?”

Allutar stared at him as if he could not believe what he was hearing. “Your pardon is scarcely an hour old, yet you would already renounce it?”

“For the good of the empire, my lord, yes, I would.”

“You're mad, Murau!”

“I do not think I am, my lord.”

“Delegates!” the speaker said, stepping between them. “Delegates, you have made your positions clear. Let us now consider your proposals.”

“They aren't clear to
me,
” someone shouted from below.

“Nor me!”

“My fellow Walasians,” Derhin called, “let us hear specific proposals that we might debate!”

The speaker grimaced, then turned to Anrel. “Master Murau, do you have a proposal to make?”

“I do, sir. I propose the creation of a Committee for the Regulation of Sorcery, backed by the full authority of the Grand Council and charged with the responsibility for investigating the misuse of magic, past and present, regardless of whether it was technically allowed under the law of the time, and establishing guidelines that all sorcerers must follow in the future. I say this committee must be given the power to impose appropriate penalties for such misuse, regardless of the rank or station of the guilty party.”

“And I,” Lord Allutar shouted in response, “propose the creation of a Committee for the Restoration of Order, backed by whatever authority this council may truly possess and charged with investigating the causes of the recent unrest, and punishing those responsible, whosoever they might be—assuming, of course, that they are not sorcerers, for Master Murau's committee will be dealing with
those
.” He looked out over the crowd. “You will not lay all the blame upon us. It was not sorcery that burned bakeries and rioted in the streets of Lume. It was no sorcerer who fired cannon into the streets and enraged the crowds.”

“Good!” Anrel said.

Lord Allutar stared at him, dumbfounded.

“I am aware that my predecessor opposed a proposal somewhat similar to Lord Allutar's,” Anrel said. “I believe he was wrong to do so. He said it would be used to delay justice and obfuscate the truth. I have more faith in this council than that—I believe that
both
committees must be established, and quickly! We must be seen to be impartial in our actions—and we must be seen to
act
. These dual committees will show the empire that we are not favoring one side over another, and that we
are
taking action, regardless of the cost to ourselves.”

“We have two proposals,” the speaker said unhappily.

“We have
one
proposal,” Anrel interrupted. “That
both
committees be created.”

“No, sir,” Allutar snapped. “We have
two
proposals—yours, whatever it may be, and mine, which is only that we create a Committee for the Restoration of Order to find and punish those responsible for the recent unrest.”

“We have two proposals,” the speaker repeated. “Let us consider Delegate Murau's first …”

With that, the debate began, and although it lasted for almost three hours, Anrel never doubted the outcome. The Hots and other rabid commoner factions supported the two committees because they wanted a Committee for the Regulation of Sorcery, and would accept the other to get it; likewise, the sorcerers were eager to see a Committee for the Restoration of Order, especially once it was made clear that it would indeed have the authority to question the emperor himself, and they would tolerate the Committee for the Regulation of Sorcery to get it. Both groups saw that this would go a good way toward appeasing the mobs, and bringing a semblance of peace and order to the capital.

In both cases, most of the delegates did not see that they themselves would be at risk; after all,
they
had not incited any riots or poisoned any farmland.

And among the nobles they asked themselves what power a Committee for the Regulation of Sorcery could really have. All magic was in the hands of sorcerers. The sorcerers told themselves that they had nothing to fear.

Lord Allutar made that explicit at one point during the debate when he leaned over and murmured to Anrel, “You realize that you may yet hang, while they cannot harm me?”

“We will see,” Anrel murmured back.

“You are putting your own neck in the noose for nothing.”

“I am acting for the good of the empire,” Anrel retorted.

“I will tell your cousin you said that.”

Lord Allutar's proposal for a single committee was brought up, but was rejected in fairly short order—the Hots wanted an investigation of
all
the evils sorcerers had committed, not just those that had contributed to the present crisis, and there was a general feeling that a single committee would be overwhelmed by the scope of their task.

So in the end, as Anrel had expected, both committees were voted into existence, though it was by no means unanimous. Lord Allutar argued vehemently but uselessly against them, and managed to sway a portion of the Cloakroom, while scattered others voted against the idea for their own reasons, but in the end a solid majority approved the proposal.

And in the end, to no one's surprise, Anrel was appointed to the Committee for the Regulation of Sorcery, though Zarein Lorsa was named chairman. Anrel did not recognize most of the other names. No sorcerers were nominated for that committee, since they could hardly be impartial in establishing rules for their fellow nobles. All in all, a score and a half of delegates were appointed, all of them commoners, with at least one representative for each of the sixteen provinces.

Anrel had reservations about appointing an extremist like Lorsa to chair the committee, but he said nothing. The other members of the committee would surely restrain the Hots.

Lord Allutar was
not
named to the Committee for the Restoration of Order, to his annoyance; he placed his name in nomination, but was voted down. As several people pointed out, the mob outside was demanding his blood; placing him in any new position of authority would be a foolish defiance of the popular will. Most of that committee was made up of sorcerers, but a few commoners, some three of the two dozen members, were included for the sake of appearances.

And when that was settled, the assembly voted itself a recess for luncheon.

Before Anrel could find Lord Blackfield among the observers, or speak to Derhin about lunch plans, Zarein Lorsa came up beside him and grabbed his arm.

“Come with us,” he said. “There's no time to waste. I've sent a man to bring us food, so we can speak without interruption.”

Anrel blinked at him, startled.

“The committee is meeting immediately,” Lorsa explained. “Before the sorcerers can find a way to interfere.”

“The committee…?”

“Yes. The Committee for the Regulation of Sorcery. As its chairman, I am calling a meeting. I will not tolerate delay. This way, sir.” He pulled at Anrel's arm.

Anrel had not expected this level of enthusiasm, but he could hardly argue; he followed as Lorsa led him through the crowd, gathering other committee members along the way.

23

In Which Anrel Makes a Dangerous Suggestion

At the insistence of its chairman the Committee for the Regulation of Sorcery, comprised of some thirty delegates, met initially in what had once been the heated baths. One rather naive committee member asked whether this might inconvenience the Hots, and the laughter of the others set him blushing angrily.

“The other committee is meeting in the cloakroom,” someone told him, not unkindly. “This isn't a coincidence.”

“But I'm not a Hot!” the committee member protested.

“Most of the committee isn't,” he was told, “but our chairman is one of the leaders of the Hots, half a dozen of his closest companions are here, and the other Hots are very eager to hear what we have to say.”

“Shouldn't we be meeting in secret, though?”

It was Anrel who asked, “Why? The entire
point
of this committee is to show the people of the empire that we are doing something about their complaints. There may be occasion when certain things should be kept private, but we should at least
try
to keep our actions open, shouldn't we?”

“Exactly!” Lorsa proclaimed. “Enough of secrecy and deception! The people deserve to see how we deal with the tyrants who have oppressed them.” He turned to Anrel and continued, “I want to thank you, Delegate Murau, for accepting poor Amanir's position and presenting our case so effectively. I do not know that we could have established this committee without you.”

“Zarein,” Delegate Gluth murmured, “I think you underestimate what Delegate Murau has done.”

“Oh?” Lorsa turned to his friend. “In what way?”

“Not only could we not have created this committee without Murau's help, we could not have created it without allowing the creation of the other committee—we didn't have the votes, not unless we gave them something in exchange.”

“Yes?”

“What we gave them, Zarein, was Master Murau's life. He agreed to set aside his immunity as a member of the Grand Council if the Committee for the Restoration of Order demands it. As a result, he will most likely be hanged for sedition—and he allowed this, knowing as much.”

Lorsa's head snapped around to stare at Anrel. “They would not
dare,
” he said. “Alvos is a hero of the people!”

“And soon to be a martyr,” someone Anrel did not recognize said. “That was plain to us all. Did you not see it, Delegate Lorsa?”

“We can
use
a martyr,” Gluth said. “I would never have asked it of anyone, but Murau has volunteered for the role.”

“I saw no alternative,” Anrel said. “There was no other way to bring this committee into existence, and without it Lord Allutar would never be brought to justice. Indeed, this committee may be the salvation of the Walasian Empire.”

“This committee is useless,” another man said. “It's a sham. We will investigate, and issue rulings, and what will come of it? Nothing. The sorcerers will ignore us. And what can we do against them? We have no magic of our own, no soldiers—what can we do if one of them defies us?”

“Delegate Murau and I discussed that the other night,” Lorsa replied. “Are you all familiar with the Great List?”

“Only the emperor can use the Great List,” a committee member replied.

“No, only the emperor
has
the Great List,” Lorsa said. “Any magician can use it—is that not so, Delegate Murau?”

“I believe so,” Anrel replied.

“What do
you
know of magic?” someone demanded.

“My parents were sorcerers,” Anrel said. “I grew up in the household of the burgrave of Alzur.”

“One of
them
!”

“No, no,” Lorsa said. “He is no sorcerer, and has no love for them, despite his parentage. Is that not so, Murau?”

“It is,” Anrel agreed.

“Then if we were to somehow gain access to the Great List, Delegate Murau, could you use it?”

Anrel looked for the speaker, but could not identify him. “No, sir,” he said. “I could not. I failed the trials when I was twelve; I am no sorcerer.” He did not mention that he had failed deliberately, nor did he say anything about his brief training in witchcraft—these did not strike him as people who would look kindly on witches.

And in fact, he had never learned the use of true names. He had not actually lied.

“Then who
would
use it?”

“Any sorcerer,” Anrel said. “You might offer some noble amnesty for his crimes in exchange for his assistance in this.”

“Or we might follow the emperor's example, and hire a magician from the Cousins,” Gluth suggested. “There are several possibilities.”

“But we do not
have
this list!”

“We have the full authority of the Grand Council,” Anrel said. “In theory, we can require the Emperor to allow us access to it. We can note down the names we need—most particularly, Lord Allutar's true name—and then proceed from there.”

“In
theory,
” Gluth said.

“In practice,” Anrel said, “I am sure we can find something to offer His Imperial Majesty to obtain his cooperation. Consider the existence of our sister committee, and who sits on it—is it not true that the Cloakroom considers
the emperor himself
to be responsible for the recent unrest? Is the Committee for the Restoration of Order not charged with identifying and punishing those responsible? Is that committee not staffed with several powerful sorcerers who might well be capable of enforcing an edict against even the emperor?”

“Despite the Emperor's Watch and his foreign mercenary magicians? I do not think they could …”

“That would be treason!”

“I don't believe …”

“It's madness!”

The discussion collapsed into chaos for a few moments until Lorsa was able, by sheer volume, to shout it down and restore order. When he had finally obtained relative calm, he said, “Perhaps we are not all in full accord as to what would best serve the empire, but permit me to set forth a course of action, step by step, and see how far we can proceed before disagreeing.”

There was a murmur of acceptance.

“The Committee for the Regulation of Sorcery has been created by the Grand Council for the purpose of investigating the misuse of magic.”