“Omar, I have to tell you, this attitude towards the marches and the stones,” I told him. “It has become far too common.”
“What do you mean?” he asked as he sipped from his own crystal goblet.
“Even I am aware of the decline the number of our fellow collegiates who will assist in the delicate and demanding requirements of the lands which suffered the worst during the Riven war.” I told him. “I am beginning to think this is a sign the collegiate, not to mention Council has stepped off its intended path, at least a little. Maintaining the marches is now looked upon as a burden, a divergence of power. I believe this is a mistake. There are some obligations which should not diminish with time.”
He returned a glance of agreement.
“Perhaps. But times change, master, as do our obligations. We are far closer to the next conjunction than the last.” My complaints appeared to make him a touch uncomfortable. I chastised myself silently for the outburst. Anger would not help my cause, nor the Margravine’s.
“And what of Trona Gan Roderic?” he added. “Isn’t this her work now? Shouldn’t you have brought this up with her?”
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“Trona is on a different campaign altogether,” I told him with a sigh. “The nature of which I am sworn to secrecy.”
“Ah. Well, trust me, the stones and their small blighted territories are a distraction at best. Despite how they were once entreated,” he offered. “What is of concern to me and my entowered fellows is how and why the demand for our talents redouble yearly, despite our growing numbers, and not just in the Donlands. What Council needs to understand is how much more insistent supplicants have become, and how little the Kings and their vassals have been encouraging this. In fact is, they are at the forefront. I will of course provide you my chronicle, as in it I discuss the problem at great length. It hinders our work of preparation.”
I nodded. He wasn’t the first to broach the argument.
“But tell me, has there been any change in within Council,” he asked. “I have heard of a loosening The Nine Tenets? And willingness to discuss closer ties between the collegiate and the aristocracy.”
I glanced again at the furnishings around us which spoke loudly of the Vaer and their ways. It was late in the day, and the light of the setting suns shifted the glow of the balcony furniture, making their intricate and luxurious design seem constructed of amber. Then I turned back to Omar.
“I cannot say,” I replied. And that was true. I could not. He wouldn’t have liked what I would have told him. “But from what I see around me, you are not looking to the west for your inspirations.”
“There is something to be said for how it is done in the south,” he replied in a low tone.
“Yes, there has always been. But I remind you, Omar, much of it is still not what you or I can publicly address or should approve of.”