James Somers - The Realm Shift

The men drew out small pieces of paper in order to cast their individual secret ballots. In a moment, when everyone was done, an appointed man collected the slips of paper and counted the votes. When the counting finished, all but five of the council members had voted to send the delegation Mr. Howinger had suggested. Tom Grandee fumed, at least until one of the members asked a key question. “Who will be our emissary to Lord Mordred in Emmanuel City?”

A sly grin crossed Tom Grandee’s face as he cast a knowing eye toward Captain Silva. “It will have to be someone with a lot of experience,” Tom suggested. This statement eliminated all of the younger council members, including himself. Nods of agreement bobbed all around the table.

“A good speaker would be best,” said Captain Silva, following up on Tom’s move. “And someone who commands respect.”

“I vote that we send Horace Howinger to speak on our behalf in this matter,” Tom said.

Howinger stammered.

“After all, Mr. Howinger seems to be well versed in these matters. Who else could do so fine a job with this task?” Tom continued.

Horace squirmed in his chair as the color drained from his face-a rat in a trap. “Now, just a minute, Tom, I never said-”

Tom interrupted him. “Horace, Horace, don’t be so modest. We all realize you are the only man for the job. Moreover, since this is a matter of utmost importance, I’m sure you will want a team assembled by tomorrow to accompany you to Emmanuel. I will be glad to take care of it for you. We’ll provide horses and a group of strong men from among those who would have fought in our militia.”

All around the council chamber, heads nodded in agreement. Horace cursed under his breath as the other council members came by to shake his hand and thank him for volunteering to go settle the matter for them with Mordred. Each pat on the back felt like nails driven into his coffin. Tom simply smiled, walking out of the council chamber with a smug Captain Silva.

Ethan watched from the attic as the demon, which had manipulated the proceedings so effectively, exited the chamber as well. The creature had finished here, and Ethan wondered if it would now go report directly to Mordred himself about what had happened.

The meeting had produced quite a turn of events. Mr. Howinger would be leaving for a three-week journey to Emmanuel City with three weeks needed to return. Things seemed to be looking up. He and Elspeth would be rid of the man for six weeks at least. Ethan felt especially glad for Elspeth.

With the meeting over, Ethan had to get back to the farm before Howinger did. He’ll be in a terrible mood tonight, he thought. Ethan retraced his steps out of the attic over the council chambers. He found his horse still tied to the tree. Whistler received Ethan cheerfully, and they shot away into the night toward home.

It was quite late, by the time Ethan arrived back at the Howinger farm and got Whistler settled into his stall. Mr. Howinger would not be far behind, and Ethan had to hurry to get back to the house. He looked toward the house and saw the lantern still lit in the living room window. What would Elspeth say?

When Ethan walked just outside of the barn, he heard a person clear their throat behind him. He turned and found his older sister standing there against the outside of the barn with her arms folded.

“Something to do in the barn, Ethan?” Elspeth’s fingertips rolled along her upper arms as she tried to control her temper.

Ethan winced when he saw her. “But Elspeth, I have important news,” he said quickly.

“Really? And what news could be so important that you had to deceive me and take off into town, when you know Horace will skin both of us alive if he finds out?”

“The council has commissioned Horace to negotiate with Lord Mordred,” he said.

Elspeth’s expression changed instantly. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Howinger was arguing with a knight captain sent from King Stephen,” Ethan said. “He came to raise support for the militia here in Grandee, but Howinger opposed the motion and called for a delegation to be sent, to find out if Grandee’s continued loyalty to Mordred might merit us some relief on our tax burden. The motion carried, but then the council turned around and voted to send Mr. Howinger as the town’s emissary. He has to leave tomorrow!”

Elspeth smiled. “That means he will be gone for nearly six weeks, right?”

“No less,” Ethan assured her. Elspeth smiled wider.

Ethan thought about what had happened at the meeting. Elspeth noticed his changed countenance. “What’s wrong, Ethan? I’m not really mad at you-not after such wonderful news.”

“It’s not that,” he said. “I saw something else at the meeting.”

The look on his face concerned her. “What happened?”

Ethan hesitated to tell her. After all, she had not believed him back in Salem the night of the massacre. “I saw a demon again.”

Elspeth’s expression grew intense rather than dismissive this time. Ethan noticed terror in her eyes-terror he had not seen since their departure from Salem.

“Again?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“In the council chambers during the meeting,” Ethan said.

“And what was it doing there?” she asked.

“I believe it was speaking to the men, although they were unaware of it. It moved from one to the other, whispering thoughts into their minds. That’s when everything turned from the militia being confirmed to this delegation and Howinger’s place in it.”

Elspeth tried to consider the ramifications of what Ethan said. Her brow furrowed with concentration. “Did it see you watching?”

“No. I had been hiding in the attic of the council building, so that may have had something to do with it.”

“Where is Mr. Howinger?” she asked.

“He’s on his way home, I expect,” Ethan said.

“Then we should get you into bed before he arrives. Say nothing of these things to anyone else, understand?”

“Of course.”

Elspeth ushered Ethan into the house and made sure he was in bed before she settled in with more mending. Ethan lay there in his bed, trying to listen for the sound of hooves walking on the packed earth outside. He heard a wolf cry in the distance, then fell asleep.

Ethan realized Horace was home, when he heard him stumbling into the house, slurring his speech while ordering Elspeth to get him something to eat. Ethan tensed in his bed, but waited. Would he need to run to his sister’s aide? Would Howinger become violent in his drunken stupor? Ethan made up his mind to intervene if the old man did try to harm her in a rage, no matter what Elspeth said about it. The outer room grew quiet. Ethan’s door swung open and Elspeth came into his room. His adrenaline surged.

“He’s passed out,” she said. “I need your help to get him into bed.”

Ethan assisted his sister with getting Horace into his bed. He still mumbled through the haze of liquor after they got him situated and closed the door behind them.

“He must be terribly upset to get into this condition,” Elspeth said.

“I suppose we can’t really blame him,” Ethan said. “Who, in their right mind, would want to go before Mordred?”

“We must get to sleep as well,” Elspeth said. “Horace will not be in a gracious mood when he wakes tomorrow.”

Ethan stifled a laugh. Of course, Horace wouldn’t be in a good mood. His head would ache from the strong drink he had been wallowing in and he had a long journey to Mordred’s palace to think about.

As expected, they watched a very sullen Horace Howinger get ready in haste for his journey. When he emerged from his bedroom, his mood had not improved nor his news.