The Phoenix War (7 page)

Sounds of assent resonated throughout the
chamber. Which caused him to raise his voice boldly. “This body met
to accept King Hisato Akira’s resignation as monarch of the Empire.
Tragic events notwithstanding, we
must
still accept that
resignation and install a new leader to guide us through this
crisis!”

His supporters clapped loudly, as did those
who supported the other potential candidates for king, but there
were negative murmurs too, and cries for him to step down or be
silent—claims that it was too soon after the King’s death for talk
of succession—Caerwyn spoke over them all. “I motion for a Vote of
Executive Leadership!”

Tate called the chamber to order, and smacked
her gavel repeatedly until silence returned.

“A motion to vote for new executive
leadership has been called,” said Representative Tate. “Is there a
second?”

“Aye,” said Representative Conroy, standing
up. He looked suspiciously at Caerwyn and Caerwyn knew the old fool
had delusions of winning the throne himself. But lacked even a
third the support he needed.

“The motion has been seconded,” said
Representative Tate. “It is now open for debate.”

“It’s too soon,” said Representative
Florence, to no one’s surprise. She stood there, a staunch
supporter of the Akira House, even now as the once-mighty Akira
House lay in ruins. “The king has passed away, murdered in this
very chamber! It would be disrespectful to bring such a motion
forward this day. The Empire must mourn. And so must we.”

“The Empire is tearing itself to pieces,”
replied Caerwyn. “It needs leadership. Our citizens, our friends,
our families, they need a strong leader to guide us through these
dark times.”

“And I suppose you fancy yourself to be that
leader,” snapped Lady Florence.

“He would make himself king!” added Lord
Conroy.

“That is for my brothers and sisters of the
Assembly to judge,” said Caerwyn calmly. “But whether or not I am
the one to lead us, someone
must
. Someone must shepherd this
flock through the storm. I motion for the vote simply because,
without a monarch in place… who will organize our security forces?
Who will command our fleets? Who will be the voice to calm the
riotous, soothe the terrified, and help the injured?”

“There is still a monarchical authority,”
replied Lady Florence. “The king has passed on, as has his heir
apparent, and two of his daughters, but one daughter remains.”

“Kalila Akira…” said Caerwyn through clenched
teeth. He didn’t know who’d gone and slaughtered the king’s
children, but he sure would have appreciated it if the murderer
hadn’t let one slip through his fingers. “She lives, this is true,”
he conceded gently. “But it makes no matter. She has no claim to
the throne. This body had already stripped King Hisato Akira of his
authority as the monarch, before he was slain.”

“His resignation was never officially given,”
replied Lady Florence. “He… died before he could surrender his
authority.”

“His official resignation was never
required,” Caerwyn snapped. “A formality, nothing else. His
authority as monarch, and his claim to the throne, ended the
instant this Assembly voted it away.” Caerwyn did believe that was
true, though in the silence of his own head he admitted the law was
somewhat unclear on that point. The Assembly had the right to
recall a monarch and choose another one, but by some
interpretations the new monarch didn’t take control until his or
her coronation. Up until that point, the sitting monarch held the
position, and the powers, so that the Empire would never experience
a moment during the succession when it had no leader. Of course,
since the Akira House had held the throne since the Empire’s
inception, the Sovereignty Clause of the Imperial Charter had never
been invoked, and there was no existing precedent to rely upon to
settle the issue.

“The king retains his power until such time a
new king, or
queen
, takes the throne,” quipped Lady
Florence, making the point Caerwyn hoped would not be made.

“The king is dead,” said Conroy, butting his
way back into the debate once more. “Surely that means an exception
is made. He can’t be expected to still sit the throne as a bloody
corpse.”

Conroy’s tactless diction created a raucous
uproar in the chamber, doing far more harm than good. Caerwyn
cringed at the words, and their tone, knowing it would sabotage his
effort to have a vote called today. But at least Conroy had spoken
true, and most of the fallout for his lack of propriety would only
injure his own claim.

“Order. Order!” said Representative Tate,
slamming her gavel repeatedly. Eventually order returned.

“Mister Conroy,” said Lady Florence. “The
king has been taken from us; that’s so. But, as I said before, an
heir remains. Kalila Akira holds the throne—by rights—until a new
king is coronated.”

This time it was Lady Florence’s turn to be
met with jeers and dissonant murmurs. Caerwyn was pleased to see
that the Akira name, and Kalila herself, were still besmirched in
the eyes of many of the Representatives, and undoubtedly much of
the Imperial public.

“It is only the law,” said Lady Florence
defensively. “Don’t take it out on me.”

“It is but one interpretation of the law,”
said Caerwyn. “There exists no precedent to say that such is the
proper way.”

“Nor any precedent to say that it is not,”
replied Lady Florence.

“Then all the more reason to bring this issue
to a vote now,” said Caerwyn. “Kalila is far away—she fled Capital
World on her ship hours ago. Fled the planet and abandoned her
people to chaos. Not very characteristic of a good monarch, I would
say.”

His quip bought him some cheers, but also a
jeer or two. He ignored them and spoke on. “But let us put the
matter to rest, completely and forever. We should vote forthwith—it
is our sacred duty—and plant a new leader upon the throne. Then
there will be no question of succession, and our beloved Empire,
the sanctuary of humanity in this dark, dangerous galaxy, may once
again have a shepherd. We are in a dangerous age, my brothers and
sisters, make no mistake. Even now the Rotham Republic has claimed
one of our planets, and the Polarian Confederacy is out there too,
with similar ambitions—
I have no doubt
. Let us put the
matter to vote. And decide the matter, while we still can.”

“Thank you, Representative Martel,” said
Representative Tate. She turned to Lady Florence. “Representative
Florence, your final word against.”

Lady Florence cleared her throat before
speaking. “Every soul and citizen of the Empire, including each of
us here, owes a debt of gratitude to the Akira House. They safely
watched and guarded us and our ancestors for over a century. Were
it not for them, none of us would be here now. We owe it to the
king who passed away so tragically, right before our very eyes, and
his children, to honor their memory and grant the proper ceremony
of grief. Kalila, last of the Akira line, should reign in Hisato’s
place until the proper time has come to select new leadership.” She
nodded and sat down.

“The issue is now put forward to vote.”

Caerwyn watched the hundreds of people above,
sitting on their balconies, talking amongst one another and
entering their votes.
I have them
, he thought as he judged
how anxious they seemed. Even those who held the Akiras in reverent
regard still, few that they were, knew that an Empire without a
leader was no more useful than a man with no head. And the notion
that the princess could lead them, the very princess who’d
abandoned the planet to the storm, was a preposterous one.

Representative Tate and the other members of
the committee examined the results once they’d all been entered and
tallied. Caerwyn was confident, he knew the Assembly would vote in
his favor, but he still felt sweat appear on his forehead. He wiped
it away subtly.

“With a vote of two-hundred and seventeen to
one-hundred and nine, with fifty-two abstentions, the motion
carries. The Great Houses shall now convene to vote for a new
successor to the monarchy forthwith.”

Caerwyn was happy to see a look of defeat on
Lady Florence’s face as she sat down. He returned gracefully to his
own seat, in between Lord Chekov and Lady Drake.

“Those who would put their names forward as
candidates to safeguard the Empire as the sovereign monarch, may do
so now,” said Representative Tate. “Please stand, declare yourself,
and remain standing.”

Caerwyn fought the impulse to be the first
out of his chair. He knew it would not befit him to seem so eager.
He had to present the aura of a calm, thoughtful leader. One who
would rule not for the power, or the privilege, but as a sacred
duty. A complete falsehood, of course, but he understood the value
and importance of appearances.

“I put forward my own name,” said Lord
Conroy, to no one’s surprise.

He’s out of the running
, Caerwyn
thought immediately. He counted the votes in his head, believing a
majority of the other Great Houses would fall into line and vote
for House Martel.

A second person stood up. It was Lord Doran.
“I put forward my name,” said Lord Doran. Again, to no one’s
surprise. Caerwyn knew that the Doran House and the Conroy House
shared a similar base of support, so they would only steal votes
from one another. All that was needed now was for the Savets to
declare their candidacy for the throne. Should Lord Savet stand and
make a claim, as Caerwyn planned, it would so dilute the votes of
support in favor of Doran and Conroy, there would be no stopping
Caerwyn.

“Is there no one else?” asked Representative
Tate, after a short pause.

For an instant Caerwyn became nervous,
worried that he’d misjudged Lord Savet, that the old man wouldn’t
rise and declare. If he didn’t, that would force Caerwyn to enter
sooner than planned and would result in a three-way runoff between
himself, Lord Conroy, and Lord Doran; if that happened, the outcome
was far less certain. Conroy had no chance. But Lord Doran was
popular, especially among the Savet House and their allies—if Lord
Savet doesn’t enter, his faction will surely throw its support
behind Lord Doran.
That might cost me the throne!

But the universe was kind. “I declare for the
throne,” said Lord Savet, standing at last.

That’s my cue. If there were a god, I’d
thank him!

Caerwyn slowly rose, making certain not to
appear too eager. “I too put forward my name as a candidate to
guide and safeguard this Empire,” he said in a gentle tone.

And that should be it. The Florences and the
rest of the Akira faction will likely go for the Savets, with a few
throwing in behind the Conroys. The Conroys will carry the Warrens
for a certainty and… very few others, maybe the Ortiz House… The
Dorans will carry the Millers, Li’s, Hernandez’s, Harris’s, and the
Nguyens. And I shall carry the rest. Leaving me with exactly enough
votes to win.

“Is there no one else?” asked Representative
Tate, clearly ready to move the proceedings forward.

No, this is all of us
, thought
Caerwyn, fighting a smile.

And then the unthinkable happened. Someone
else rose.

“I put forward my name,” said Representative
Zhang. The newly-appointed youth, Leor Zhang, who’d inherited his
place in the Assembly to fill the vacancy caused by his father’s
death. The late Ri Zhang had been mysteriously slain in the same
attack that had killed the king.

No, what are you doing!?
Caerwyn
resisted the urge to turn to the youth and shake him. He wanted to
shout at the young fool, explain to him in simple, small words that
he and his family belonged to the Martel faction of support! His
father had been among the most ardent supporters of the Martels!
For him to step forward and assert his own claim to the throne was
not only a tremendous insult to the Martel House, and for
nothing
since the Zhangs couldn’t dream of garnering enough
support to win the throne, it was also mathematically just enough
to remove the inevitability of Caerwyn’s rule.
Damn you and your
whole shit family, Leor Zhang, you stupid insolent fool!

Caerwyn resisted every urge to do otherwise
and somehow forced a smile.
Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I
miscounted
, he thought, hoping that somehow he could still win
the throne.
And even if I don’t win, Zhang’s stupidity will, at
worst, cause a deadlock. At which point, having received the fewest
votes, he will of course bow out. He must! It would be the only
proper thing to do. And then, after he bows out, he will naturally
throw his support behind House Martel, where it always should have
been. My throne is still inevitable, it’s just… delayed.

“Is there no one else?” asked Representative
Tate. When no one stood, she closed the floor to new candidates and
invited each of the would-be kings: Lords Conroy, Doran, Savet,
Martel, and Zhang to address their fellow noblemen, for fifteen
minutes apiece, and attempt to persuade their fellow nobles to vote
in their favor.

Like Caerwyn had expected, the speeches were
full of fluff and metaphor and were empty appeals, whether to logic
or emotion it made no matter. They were merely a part of the
ceremony of it all, a ritual, almost, more theatrics than politics.
Not truly an effort to win votes. The votes were already decided
and had been the instant the candidates declared themselves. Houses
had their allegiances. There was no going against that. Only young
Lord Zhang made a sincere effort to convince his fellow noblemen to
vote for him. Of course, whether he knew it or not, his plea fell
upon deaf ears.
The youth has much to learn about
politics
…

Once the charade of speeches was complete,
the voting began.