Chapter 3

He watched his two capable friends absorb the current state of things. In particular, he watched the guileless First express consternation then consideration. She had mind that could set the world on fire but had no cunning whatsoever. He paused in his words a moment longer, considering how much to reveal and how much to obfuscate. These two were the most important weapons in his arsenal but more than that, they were the key players to ensure the Calling passed successfully. The old man could feel his memories scratching at the sphere of his internal awareness. He dismissed them mentally, forcing them away to remain in the present. “Civil unrest and emboldened enemies are the beginning of our problems but certainly not their limit. We three will need to usher and care for the Calling. It is not a whimsical moment, a quick sent thrill of magic, then all is well. We must guide things and make ready for our impending guests. For now, however Lady First, you have the gist of what must be done immediately. Once the Council has approved of measures to be taken, I will meet with you and the Army Marshall to discuss the redeployment. There cannot be any delay in this. I would have ordered the mobilisation before the Call but suffice to say, the time allotted for its signalling and conclusion is not given to allowances.” He watched them process this. The question occurred to both listeners but the impulse was stifled in the Dean. The First was not so burdened by concerns of proprietary so asked immediately, “Lord Sovereign, is the timing that exacting?” He smiled inwardly and her impulsiveness. It would be simple to blame it on her age but inaccurate. She was this way to the bone, regardless of years. As a grandmother she will be without restraint. “The timing is exacting and none of your concern. Now do you have any questions or would you like to be off about administering the Empire?” She blinked in response and stood abruptly, as was her way. “Sire I have one more question. The timing. Is it exacting because of its beginning of the Calling, or because of its ending?” He frowned deeply. Too clever by half. “I believe I already informed you that it was none of your concern, First. Dismissed!” She smiled slightly and bowed before retreating.

Now alone with his birdlike friend, the old man smirked in his direction. “Did you see that mind work?! She had the questions before you did.” A sigh escaped Leranda before he could trap it. “Yes Sire, she is a remarkable intellect. Possibly not the personage you should have supported for First of the Council but remarkable nonetheless. On a more important note, I need to know what to expect from the Calling?” The sovereign glared at the unsatisfactory reaction of the Dean. “Lerry, you old bastard! Firstly, I don’t decide the Council’s make up, they do. I merely supported the girl. And Secondly, you should be more respectful of you Sovereign and show some damned excitement when I do!” The Dean simply sat and stared back with a mild expression. “Yes, well sire, do you think perhaps given the nature of what is to come that you could start to fill me in on the Calling.” The old man’s face grew momentarily grim. “They’ll come, Leranda. I will inform you as you need to know. Explaining anything beforehand becomes problematic. You have the texts that are made available to the College, correct?” The Sovereign watched his friend nod and concern break across his features. “Sire yes, we do have texts. Most of them merely describe the reason for the Calling, which is self-evident and some esoteric ramblings on the subject. The Potentials are coming as you say my Lord Sovereign so I need to be armed with the knowledge necessary to prepare for them! Not to put a finer point on it, sire but there is no greater happening than this!” This time the old man snorted at his friend. “Oh calm down Lerry, you’ll give yourself a faint. Yes, this is the most truly momentous bollocks happenstance that has and will infect the world for the next century! I am well aware of its bothersome nature. Must I remind you as well as the pup that I lived through the last one of these?! And for bothers sake, its only the two of us! Call me by name.” As he was the only person alive able to call the old man by name, Leranda did so when they were both in private. “Very well, Atin. You must give me more information though. I cannot plan for all this with the little that is contained in the texts.” The sigh from the old man was resigned and contained more than a little tiredness. “Very well Leranda. I will explain it once though. Once you mind! And in as much detail as is permitted. I will wait for The First and The Marshall though. I’m too old to repeat myself and bloody Sovereign besides, so I shouldn’t have to! Now, there’s nothing more to be said on the subject so tell me about your grandson?!”

Tom tried not to shift uncomfortably as the two older men relaxed into a conversation about the Deans grandson and apple of his eye. Tom’s mind reeled with the details he had gleaned from the three people that had spoken. The Calling was indeed upon them. No one but the Sovereign really knew about the details and he seemed reticent to share. The First was even stranger than her reputation suggested. The Sovereign’s name was Atin. The list went on and on. So many thoughts and considerations. What exactly was the Calling? Why wasn’t it the simple matter most believed? As a scholar, Tom was concerned to think that he too hadn’t ever dwelt on how little was really known about the most important single event that could happen in the lives of the citizens of the Empire. He assumed that like most people, the basics were just always known and no one thought to question them. The Sovereign seemed the eternal constant, what else need be known. Surely the next calling would be so long from now that it wouldn’t matter. One thing was certain in Tom’s mind. He would hold absolutely still and hope no one sent him away. If he could remain where he was, he could hear the story directly from the Sovereign himself!

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Sera arrived in the Council chambers, her eyes falling upon the wood panelled walls. The firelight danced in the polished golden-brown surface, seeming to dance back and forth with the enthusiasm of children. The great Council Chamber Hall was a grand room easily the size of two ballrooms and almost as large as the Sovereign’s balcony. According to her research of the Keep’s history, the balcony was predminantly under a roof until the current Sovereign had ordered it removed to allow his vision of an open air reception and contemplation area to be born. The First strode to her place, waiving the table of men and women back to their seats as the rose to her. “Council, please be seated.” It was apparent that the few talented on the Council had filled in the others about the Calling. Twelve sets of eyes in twelve faces older than her own blinked at Sera as she dropped into her chair. The Council of the Empire sought to handle the day to day governance of the kingdom. Administering the laws of the realm and expressing the will of it’s people and to a lesser, more complicated extent, it’s Sovereign. The membership of the Council was decided by a vote of the existing members when a new one was to be chosen. There was always a fixed 13 members with their own specific concerns to administer including Law, Health, Education and Security. Sitting at the head of the table was the 13th member who had no subject mandate and stood as the First among equals and represented the 13 and the Empire as a whole. Sera had reached her position by way of incredible Talent, the support of the Sovereign and her undeniable rare intellect. The Empire was egalitarian by design and promoted any who showed significant ability. In reality, it was as all societies are. The rich and affluent so often fell into positions of prominence. Without doubt they were intelligent and capable but the rareness of new blood at the Council table and all other halls of power throughout the Empire as glaringly obvious.

The First resisted the urge to clear her throat and swept the room with her green brown eyes. “The Call has been made. I am certain you know However it bears confirming. The Calling will be answered. We must stand ready for the Potentials.” The hum at the table was as immediate as it was furious. These were not the kinds of people that were accustomed to being caught off guard. “We were not consulted!” Shouted the strangled voice of Laws. “It is beyond unreasonable for the Sovereign to make this decision without our approval.” Came the even higher pitched voice of Agricultures. The cacophony grew as the same liveried messenger entered and delivered another missive, trailed by Ruby the wolfhound. The giant dog rested by her Lady’s side and took in the bickering shouts of the august body of representatives that held the Empire’s governance. Sera rested her hand on Ruby’s warm head for comfort and stood slowly. Immediately the noise reduced but did not cease. Her voice held a shadow of the Sovereigns snap of command as she spoke again, cutting through the remaining noise until it stopped. “Council folk, control yourselves. It is not the place of this body to decide upon the Calling. It is his Lord Sovereigns domain and the reasons for his decision are not required to be given! Now I have spoken to the Sovereign and he assures me that this decision was not taken lightly and was however, very necessary. It is time. It is his time.” Her words took the indignant wind out of the sails of the assembled personages. Now for the hard part. “The Sovereign has requested that the Council take a few steps before announcing the Call to the people. We must redeploy a good percentage of our armies to both our borders and the ‘Unrest’ locations throughout the Empire. We must stand ready for civil unrest and incursions on our borders if our enemies seek to test if we are weak.” Whatever more Sera could have said was drowned out. The noise of all the screaming Council members grew to such an incredible volume that Ruby turned away in disgust and left the chambers. Slowly, a broad and tall man stood at the opposite end of the table to the First. The Marshall of the Empire’s defensive legions was exactly what you would expect him to be. Wars, as he was referred to in this chamber was a bald man of about fifty years of age. He had no one gram of fat on his wiry form. He was a little over six foot two and had shoulders to match an even larger man but carried little excess muscle. His aura was one of barely contained violence. Yet all of his movements were utterly controlled. His first struck the table with just enough force to create a resounding thump that proved undeniable to the rest of the Council who finally fell silent. Wars didn’t speak but simply raised an open palm towards Sera who gratefully noted. She quickly glanced at the missive. Again in the old man’s hand, ‘You and Marshall Wars to get up here the second you are done with them.’ Sera sighed inwardly and set herself to continue the session. This might take a moment.