A Lack of Faith
Sleep provided Martel a reprieve from his thoughts, but no resolution; when Martel woke at dawn, he felt no closer to a decision. He chose to remember Eleanor’s words that the matter was not imminent; he could let it rest for now. If the negotiations failed, it would be irrelevant regardless. So he ate a quick breakfast, dressed himself in his uniform, and met up with Eleanor in the atrium of their wing to walk together to the council chamber.
As the remainder joined them, the delegate from Aquila had a bundle of documents with him, which he distributed. “I ran out of parchment,” he explained apologetically as he did not have enough for everyone, forcing them to share.
“You have been busy, magistrate,” Martel remarked with a nod in acknowledgement as he placed one of the copies between himself and Eleanor for them both to read.
“Thank you, captain.” Caritas inclined his head. “The information is the same on all of them. My initial suggestion as to how our Great Charter might look.”
“Please, take us through it,” Martel asked.
“With pleasure, captain. First, you will see a list of suggested representatives. Three to be chosen from the administration of each province, along with one delegate chosen by the guilds of each chartered city. Furthermore, a retired officer with the rank of legate chosen by the military administration, five members chosen by the Faith of the Sun, and either the headmaster of the Lyceum or someone chosen by them. Lastly, members of the nobility possessing a certain rank or above. This is but an initial list, of course. More can be added, should I have overlooked anyone obvious.”
Honorius glanced up and down the list. “This will easily be a hundred people! How is the voice of a single person going to matter in such a gathering? Any debate is certain to descend into nothing but shouting and endless noise!”
“If any of my choices seem unworthy to be represented, you’re more than welcome to suggest their removal,” Caritas remarked.
“I’m sure the distinguished members of such an assembly will be able to conduct themselves with dignity during any debate. And in some ways, ensuring that a single person does not hold undue sway is the whole point. It will guarantee that only proposals of obvious merit will be voted through,” Martel argued. “No more senseless wars.”
“It sounds like nothing but a recipe for endless bickering.” Honorius crossed her arms and leaned back.
“In times of disaster, the Senate retains the possibility of naming an imperator, who may make swift and necessary decisions,” came the response from the captain on the other side of the table.
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“Just as you did,” Eleanor pointed out, looking at Honorius, “as did we. Everybody recognises the need for swift and decisive leadership in times of strife and struggle.”
“I could not have expressed it better myself,” interjected the duchess of Trior. On Martel’s other side, the duke of Cheval made a grunting sound, however that was meant to be interpreted.
“Delegates from the Faith are mentioned on this list, but why are they absent from this table?” Giles suddenly interceded, making all heads turn toward him. “You have your cadre of nobility flanking you.” He gestured at the duke and duchess. “For a decision as monumental as this, why has the high priest of Sol not been consulted? He should be present!”
Martel looked at Honorius and knew from the look on her face that this would be an issue. “I agree,” she declared loudly. “How can we proceed without knowing whether our path is blessed by Sol? For all our earthly wisdom, we may condemn the Empire to divine wrath.” Down the table, Giles wore a triumphant expression.
If only Martel had not threatened to execute every inquisitor in Morcaster, he might have already invited a representative from the Faith to participate in the negotiations. As it stood, he doubted they would be keen to support him in this or anything else. Bringing a member of the clergy to the table could spell the end of all his efforts. “You’re right. I should have thought of this. I’ll be happy to send an invitation to the Basilica.” It would never arrive, but that was another matter.
“I consider it best we conclude negotiations for now until that happens,” Giles proclaimed. “I’m not comfortable progressing until we know that we have both the blessing of the Faith and the wisdom of its representative at this table.”
Martel did his best to hide any alarm; hitherto, any delay had served him well, but he had hoped to continuously postpone inviting any religious figure and conclude the negotiations before it became an issue.
Before he could think of a response, Honorius beat him to it. “Agreed. Let us ensure we have divine guidance on our side. Sir Martel, we will proceed once you have arranged for this.” He looked from one delegate to another as they stood up with varying degrees of enthusiasm and left the table.
***
Once alone with Eleanor, Martel sat down on the nearest chair, clutching one hand with the other. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“You have no choice. But at least you can negotiate individually with the high priest before he sits down at the table. This can be turned to your advantage,” Eleanor argued. “If you can convince him to support you, he will undoubtedly sway the others, such as Captain Honorius.”
“He’s more likely to curse me than speak to me,” Martel mumbled.
“You might be surprised. Nobody becomes high priest of Sol without being a political animal.”
He looked up at her. “Of course. I don’t know why I expected differently from a religious figure. Can you write a request for a meeting? You’ll know better than me what words to choose.”
“Of course.”
“Wait. Another thing.”
She ceased her movements and turned back towards him. “What is it?”
“Cheval spoke with Giles at length yesterday. And for all his troubles, what do we get? The magistrate lights a torch in our bakery.”
“You think the duke suggested this argument?”
“I’m sure rumour has spread all across the city of my spat with the Inquisition. Either he counselled the magistrate on how to frustrate our negotiations, or he completely failed to persuade him to our cause. Either way, I think we best remind Cheval to keep in line.”
“Actions do speak louder than words,” Eleanor considered. “You have the list I made for you?”
He nodded. “In my chambers.”
“Select a suitable target. I will write the message to the high priest meanwhile. And tonight, we send a message to the duke as well.”