Roger Taylor - Caddoran

Today, however, there was no such lapse, though Krim’s deputy, compounding Bowlott’s malicious slowness with his own natural frailty, stretched out the ending of the day’s business even further as he meticulously performed the ritual of the storing of the cushions. It was then his duty to escort the Striker from the hall. This involved walking down the long central aisle and was made all the slower by his tendency to drift from side to side, thereby, on average, increasing the length of the journey by about a third.

Eventually, however, they reached the entrance to the hall and the Assistant Cushion Bearer concluded his duties by executing a series of formal bows – another ritual, but one during which he invariably became confused and opted for starting again with much apologizing and sighing. When he finally reached the end, Bowlott turned and exited the hall with unusual speed for fear that the old man might be confused enough to begin bowing again. It was a relief to stride out freely for a little while – it was not easy following the Assistant Cushion Bearer even for someone of Bowlott’s physical ineptitude. He really did not appreciate Krim missing the Close of Moot.

He had not gone far when he heard two sets of footsteps approaching from behind. He closed his eyes as he recognized both of them.

‘Striker Bowlott, can you spare a moment?’ Two voices, a droning tenor and a shrill descant bearing an unmistakable eastland accent confirmed his identification.

Bowlott surreptitiously increased his pace so that they had to scurry to catch him. ‘Inner Senator Welt, Inner Senator Bryk,’ he acknowledged, stopping suddenly as they reached him and watching their stumbling halt. ‘How may I help you?’

Though there were many little cliques and cadres in the Moot, there were three major factions. The Keepers, whose members were drawn mainly from the families of the larger merchants and traders, came predominantly from Arvenstaat’s cities and thus tended to dominate the Inner and Outer Moots. Then there were the Deemers who, typically, were clerks, lawyers and academics. As individuals, some of the Moot Senators were quite able, but a peculiarly incestuous blending of the Moot’s ancient procedures and traditional loyalty to particular factions, subverted ability utterly and grievously detached the Moot from reality. Of the three factions, the Deemers were by far the furthest away. The third faction consisted of the Strivers, its members drawn from Arvenstaat’s small traders, artisans and farmers. Confined for the most part to the Moot General, they were much given to pompous and impassioned rhetoric liberally sprinkled with earthy metaphor. Most of them affected intimate knowledge of a rugged working lifestyle though their manicured hands and expensive, well-tailored robes usually gave the lie to this.

Senators Welt and Bryk were the respective leaders of the Keepers and the Strivers, for the time being allies against the Deemers. Both were effectively permanent members of the Moot and both were unlovely. Bryk’s bulging eyes and pursed mouth reminded Bowlott inexorably of a large, bad-tempered fish, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that he did not openly wince when his high-pitched and penetrating voice pierced its way through the Moot Hall’s dull air. Welt’s voice, by contrast, was profoundly soporific. Indeed, it was not uncommon for wagers to be made between the more frivolous Senators about the number of members that Welt would lure into sleep over any given time. He walked with a pronounced stoop but was still taller than Bowlott, and he had the look of a sad bloodhound.

They each took one of Bowlott’s elbows and bent forward intently.

He raised silencing hands before they could begin to speak. ‘Senators, I think I know why you wish to speak to me, but I have a pressing meeting on a most urgent matter.’ He looked from one to the other taking some pleasure in seeing them exchange a glance, and watching their curiosity displacing their fawning confidentiality. They would not question him directly – that kind of thing was just not done; part of the art of the Moot debate was the ability to ask questions without seeming to, and also not answering questions while seeming to. Under normal circumstances Bowlott would have enjoyed seeing how Bryk and Welt played this scene but he was genuinely anxious about his pending meeting with Vashnar.

Although there were extensive informal working arrangements between lower ranking Wardens and equally low ranking Moot Officers, the relationship at the top was starchily formal. The two institutions which governed Arvenstaat each tacitly understood what was expected of them and took great pains to provide it without trespassing on the other’s domain to any great degree. However, with Vashnar’s proclaiming of the Death Cry and the consequent stirring up of the people, this balance had been disturbed and Bowlott had been placed in the invidious position of being seen to be ‘doing something’. His immediate anxiety was not that he did not know what to do – that was normal – it was that he could not begin to start drafting a form of words that would look as if he did know. Vashnar’s action had been far too practical and conspicuous for that. Worse, he hardly knew the man; unlike these two dolts at his elbow, whom he knew all too well.

What were his weaknesses? Vashnar couldn’t be ambitious, for where could he rise to from his present position? Was he greedy? Possibly, but this post carried many privileges and was well rewarded even excluding the Gilding – the long-established network that directed into his hands ‘gifts’ from grateful merchants and others who received particular protection from the Wardens. Perhaps he was vain? But that was unlikely to be a powerful lever even if he was. Lecherous? Women, men, boys?

The latter in particular was a weakness amongst certain high-ranking Wardens, but it was a dangerous trait, very unpopular with the people, and even if Vashnar was so inclined, Bowlott reasoned that he would be far too cunning and well placed to leave any chance of exposure open for discovery. Added to which, for what it was worth, he was married.

It was a serious problem. He would have to make judgements about him as they spoke. This was something he quite enjoyed when meeting newly appointed Senators, full of enthusiasm and foolishness and easily crushed, but the Senior Commander of Arvenshelm’s Wardens…?

Despite these circling preoccupations, Bowlott could not resist tormenting his two companions by satisfying their curiosity while at the same time adding to it.

‘I’ve asked Commander Vashnar to come to my office at Close today, and I’m sure you’ll appreciate, it would be very discourteous of me to keep him waiting. However…’ He set off walking again, startling them both. ‘We can talk a little about your problems on the way.’ He kept his eyes forward and maintained an unexpectedly rapid pace as the two men flapped after him. ‘If I’m not mistaken, Senator Bryk, your members have been complaining about the number of their electors coming to speak to them about these Morlider rumours.’ He did not wait for a reply. ‘Tiresome business altogether. I sympathize. It’s hard enough running the country without having electors bothering you every day with their petty problems.’ He made an airy gesture. ‘They do not have our breadth of vision, you see, gentlemen. And you, Senator Welt, have the same problem, because of the decline in trade with Nesdiryn. One can understand this a little more, but again, merchants, traders, well-meaning souls though they be for the most part, have little grasp of the problems with which we have to wrestle, eh?’ He looked expectantly at his entourage. ‘Indulge me, have I read the times correctly?’