Richard Baker: Avenger

“I am afraid that Harmach Grigor named no one after Lord Isolmar died,” Quillon replied. “And the laws of succession are unclear. I believe that it is a matter for the family to decide, my lord.”

“I see.” Geran frowned. “Kara, what do you make of this?”

“I think the best thing to do is to bring everyone together and discuss it. The sooner, the better.”

He nodded. “Master Quillon, would you join us in the study at two bells? Your knowledge of the law may be helpful.”

“Of course, Lord Geran. I’ll fetch my pen and paper.” Quillon bowed, and hurried away.

The two Hulmasters watched him go, and Geran allowed himself a grimace of apprehension. He knew he didn’t want the throne-he wanted Grigor to be harmach, just as he’d been throughout the entirety of Geran’s life. But an assassin’s dagger had changed that, and Geran’s wishes had no power to put things back in order. No, the question was not whether he wanted to be harmach. The question was whether he was willing to be harmach if that was the best thing for his family.

Kara watched him as he wrestled with his thoughts. “I know it can’t be me, Geran,” she said in a low voice. “Whatever you decide, I’ll back you.”

He nodded gratefully, even though he had no idea what was the right course. “I suppose we’d better gather everyone.”

A little less than an hour later, the Hulmaster clan assembled in Lasparhall’s study. Natali and Kirr were excused, but Erna was present to speak for her children if need be. Terena and Serise sat near the fire, and Geran stood by the window, paying little attention to the chill radiating from the frost-covered panes. Master Quillon took an unobtrusive place in the room’s corner, his writing materials laid out before him.

Kara dismissed the servants from the room, closing the door behind them as she turned to face the Hulmasters. “I’m afraid there is a question that we must settle today,” she said. “Scores of nobles from Thentia and ambassadors from other cities will be here tomorrow to attend Harmach Grigor’s funeral rites. The question that will be on all their minds is simply this: who is to be the next harmach?”

“You and Geran have been looking after things since-well, over the last few days,” Terena said. “What do the laws of succession say?”

“Very little, I’m afraid,” Kara answered. She looked over to Master Quillon. “Have you found anything more?”

The halfling shook his head. “Regretfully, no. The difficulty is that Hulburg’s laws provide little guidance. By tradition the harmach names his heir. Until four years ago, that was clearly Lord Isolmar, but Harmach Grigor never named a new heir after Isolmar’s death. As far as I can determine, it’s been more than a hundred and fifty years since a harmach died without a son who was ready and willing to take the title, so there is no obvious precedent to follow.”

“Why didn’t he simply choose someone?” Erna said sadly. “Then we would know better what to do now.”

“He was worried that he would endanger whoever he named,” Terena said. The others in the room looked at her in surprise; she shrugged. “We spoke of it once or twice. After all, Isolmar-his own son-had just been murdered, in all likelihood because he was close to the throne. I suspect that Sergen may have influenced his decision as well, either by advising him not to name anyone else, or perhaps by indicating that he wished to be considered as a potential heir. With Geran away on his travels, Isolmar’s children hardly more than babes, and Kara’s condition, there was no one else.”

Geran glanced at Kara, who grimaced quickly but said nothing. The eerie azure of her spellscarred eyes and the blue serpentlike mark on her left hand shimmered in the room’s dim light. She was undoubtedly the most qualified candidate, since she’d sat on the Harmach’s Council and served as Grigor’s right hand for years, but no one would suffer a harmach whose children might turn out to be monsters.

“I doubt that we can divine Grigor’s intent,” said Geran’s mother. “Let us look at this another way. Neither Erna nor I are Hulmasters by blood. That simply leaves Terena, Geran, Natali, and Kirr. Terena is, of course, the eldest Hulmaster remaining, and the daughter of a harmach herself. Geran is the eldest male Hulmaster. If we believe the succession should pass to the oldest child of Grigor’s oldest child, that would be Natali of course, but she’s only a child. She’d need a regent to rule for her.”

“Excuse me. The law is unclear about whether the eldest Hulmaster or the eldest male Hulmaster is to be preferred,” Quillon said. “Of course, by chance those have happened to be the same for a number of generations now.”

“I have no desire to be harmach!” Terena said quickly. “In these circumstances, we need a war leader, someone with courage and vigor. I have little of either. Our friends-and our enemies-need to know that the Hulmasters have not relinquished our claim, but I wouldn’t inspire confidence or fear in anybody.”

Geran felt the gazes of the other Hulmasters shifting to him. He looked down at the table, considering the question. If he asserted his claim he had no doubt that his family would be content to support him. “I’ll assume the title if I must,” he said slowly, “but I would not be very well suited for it. I know nothing of statecraft.”

“Geran, knowledge of statecraft is not a requirement,” his mother said. “Leadership is. I think you underestimate yourself. Would Grigor have been content to see you become harmach? And is it something you are willing to do?”

“I’ve spent most of my adult life avoiding that sort of responsibility,” he said.

“No one knows that better than I do. I know how restless you’ve always been. Still, you are the only choice if we seek a harmach who could rule today.”

He shook his head. “I mean to go in harm’s way. A harmach must be more careful than that. Let the throne pass to Isolmar’s children, and appoint a regent. Kara’s far and away the best qualified. She’s commanded the Shieldsworn in battle, and she counseled Harmach Grigor for the better part of the last ten years. And-forgive me for saying so, Kara-her spellscar is no drawback for a regent. In fact, it might be seen as an advantage, since she’ll be understood to have no dynastic ambitions of her own.”

The room fell silent for a long time. Finally Kara spoke. “I’ll do it if that is the consensus of the family. But there are two things I think we should consider. First, a harmach would be seen as a more powerful figure than a regent. After all, a regent by her nature would be someone whose reign is soon to end, but a harmach might hold the throne for decades. A harmach’s promises carry more weight, as do his threats. Secondly it’s just been demonstrated to us that our enemies are willing to strike at whoever is harmach. I would be very fearful about naming Natali or Kirr harmach now.”

Erna paled. “Dear gods,” she whispered. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Geran folded his arms in front of his chest and scowled. He hadn’t thought of it, either. Kara’s point about appearances was one thing, but he couldn’t stand the idea of endangering his young cousins simply because he was unwilling to shoulder the title. He looked over to Quillon and asked, “Is there any reason a harmach couldn’t abdicate and appoint a regent for a young successor?”

The halfling scribe gazed upward in thought, considering the question. “No, Lord Geran. The law is generous about allowing a harmach to step down.”

“Very well.” He squared his shoulders and turned back to face his family. “Kara’s convinced me; it’s best that I should do it. But I won’t name myself harmach, not until Hulburg is freed, and Marstel and Rhovann have answered for what they’ve done. Claiming a title we have no power to enforce would appear weaker than not claiming it at all. Someone must be the Lord Hulmaster in name, but we’ll show the Moonsea by our actions, not our words, that we haven’t waived our claim on Hulburg.”