"We should not get into a discussion of why a g-o-d would send us a p-wyrd," Zhetoniss said.
With that, like many good questions in the dome of wasted hours, Drik's was neatly ignored. The Áettar had never made a secret of his disdain for the Pedran head. Possibly because the big rock had never worn a robe to a council meeting. The Loitar head would never admit it, but he took style too damned serious. He was also petty enough to take Troll's lack of style personal. Nonetheless, Trolls were exempt. Because they tended to rip even the most well fitting robe. So it saved on fabric, which wasn't an inexhaustible resource even in a free labour economy.
While his colleague was looking down his nose at the granite slab in the loin-cloth. Lyeasrakardsul took Drik's example and leaned back in his hard stone-seat. Tensing up with discomfort, he tried to look relaxed. It could be a while before someone stumbled onto a self-serving angle.
Good, best to let them draw their own conclusions, his inner sorcerer thought while he fiddled with his pipe. No need to tell them were going to have to fulfil a p-wyrd quest
"The fact is we all know what happens to those who refuse the divine!" The Loitar head grimaced with disgust. "And for my part, if I am to choose between dying in agony, and not dying in agony, it is not a difficult choice."
That was quick, he nodded along, never ask the council to do what they can convince themselves to do.
"Besides, our underlings need never know! The whole thing will be another council secret, even if the p-wyrd was sent to a Knome abuser!"
Zhetoniss finished up with a jab at him, it was expected but his gut still contracted with shame. Nevertheless, this personal and professional crisis felt good somehow, normal even. The first council had started the morning meetings to deal with the crisis after the Spell. But in Empris one crisis followed another and it had long ago become the new normal. With the familiar feeling of humiliating pressure, something was knocked loose in his mind after Áettar's comment.
"As a point of clarification," he addressed the question at the fabulous man-beard. "May I ask how the council knew I went to see the Knomes?"
"Hrm-hm!" The Dwarf cleared his throat instead of shouting, a clear sign of guilt.
"I thought that servant looked familiar! You had me followed! How dare you?"
"We had information from a reliable source that you were intent on subversive activity." The Dwarf retreated into classic Xefef speech, saying things that have essentially no meaning.
"We? You were all in on this? You all agreed to have me followed," he asked highlighting the obvious lie. "What about the first time? Someone was watching me with magick, which one of you was it?"
Sulenthvorenth's face was stone, but there was something in Drik's granite expression. The Troll's literal stone-face wore a pebble of discomfort.
"Watching people is more of a Dalmicir thing, is it not? You should look to your own school," the Xefef head counter-accused.
He had said too much. There was no way he could prove anyone had watched him with magick. The man-beard was doing his best to draw himself up. If not for his raised seat, his nose would be on the table's edge.
"You can be sure I will look into it," he replied, "but maybe someone was watching in order to get permission from the council to have someone else followed?"
"What are you insinuating?"
"Oh, I am not insinuating, only speculating, but you did all agree to have me followed?"
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"Eh, yes... followed, that is what we agreed." Sulenthvorenth hesitated, looking around the chamber.
They both knew there were strict rules about having a headmaster followed. It required that at least three other council members agreed. He was starring hard at Noertdel, the easiest one to bully. But the Macbiar head was in a bit of a state, and not prepared to take the hint.
"Or actually, no, not all, only three of us. Me, Drik and Zhetoniss, we agreed." The Dwarfs gaze shifted to the unnaturally handsome Loitar head.
"Alright yes, fine," the Áettar groaned and his deep-blue eyes narrowed, "I agreed with them to have you followed."
He was about as convincing as a sorcling coming out of the pantry with a face covered in cake. Even so, in this room of law, truth was decided by majority rule. He couldn't blame Zhetoniss. Having the Xefef head owe you a favour was as close to hard currency as you could get in their non-currency economy.
Besides, we've diverted attention away from your Knome abusing, his delight gloated.
"Well, as long a the rules were followed, I suppose it is alright."
"Of course! We do not need your approval! But there is another little point to clarify. So it is not forgotten in all this excitement." The Xefef head's words dripped with malice. "Why was it you had to see the Knomes again?"
Damn! His inner sorcerer cursed.
"Ah yes, I admit I did not know it was a p-wyrd until after I went to see them, but I knew it was a crisis."
He told the truth, not the whole truth of course, and certainly not nothing but the truth. That would be insane.
"You see, I have been having nightmares, more like visions, I just wanted the Knomes to confirm something. Why bother the council before I was sure?"
Masquerading one's intentions wasn't technically lying, but it was close enough to feel right.
"About this p-wyrd, you never said what g-o-d it was from?" Noertdel had recovered from the flatulence embarrassment.
"Because I do not know," he admitted, the truth was working for him today. "The god did not reveal itself, or even try to take credit. But I suspect it might be from Her."
The other robed figures chocked down a gasp, but the rock would need a minute to let his thoughts catch up.
"Her? Einto! You did not tell Her anything did you?"
"Of course not!"
"It does make sense in a way, it is known that She is not inclined to take credit for every little thing in the way the others love to do." The Dwarf volunteered for some reason.
"I had no idea you were so interested in the gods?" Lyeasrakardsul tried his best to insinuate there might be a bit of worship in his interest.
"I am interested in power! And they are powerful!"
That might be the most honest thing ever said in this chamber.
"You know, some have claimed that in a p-wyrd they can hear your thoughts?"
"Yes! I know!" That was the first outright lie he had told today.
"But She is not even the worst part," he continued, "I will give you one guess as to which three free sorcerers I saw in the p-wyrd."
"Three? No? Not them? The brothers," Sulenthvorenth groaned.
"We send for brothers?" Drik asked.
"Send for them? Do you think they would actually come?"
"If we summon them all, will they not think we are going to peer-review them. It is long overdue," Zhetoniss added.
"Then how will we get them here?"
"We will send a Troll patrol for each of them! That way they cannot team up!" Sulenthvorenth shouted.
"Would they really team up? It is so... unsorcerer-like?" Zhetoniss' pet vine shivered with disgust.
"Who knows with those three! They do not have a shred of decency between them, they might try anything!"
"If resist, get crushed head! Cause af resist!" Drik rumbled clapping his stone hands together.
"NO!" The other four shouted in unison. "We need them alive!"
The Xefef head banged his gavel and that was that, even if Dirk was doing a good impression of a sullen rock. Lyeasrakardsul would have liked to send out invitations to the brothers. Giving them his personal assurance of safety. Still, he was getting the end result he wanted. With the council, that was more than you could expect.
The meeting continued as normal, and they avoided making any other major decisions. For a while he thought he was in the clear, and that his Knome abusing was forgotten.
Until Noertdel blurted out. "How are the Knomes supposed to predict something from your nightmares?"
Officially, there was no rule against him having them build whatever he wanted. Only the tradition of not asking Knomes for help. He was forced to tell them he had ordered a giant telescope, to see if the stars were disappearing. Even so, he didn't tell them that it had already been built without permission. No need to get Isath into trouble for something that was already done. So instead, he just agreed when they told him to cancel the order.
But wouldn't it be interesting to know if the stars really are fading? His curiosity wondered as he was leaving the chamber.
And why we were sent the p-wyrd? Do you think it could have something to do with the Knomes? Could they be important somehow, his feeble sense of humility added.
However, if he ever had the capability to listen to humility, his inner sorcerer had beaten it out of him long ago.