Roger Taylor - Caddoran

He turned a look of unconcealed scorn on Bowlott.

‘Most Worthy Striker, I shall say what I have to say. If the Worthy Senators choose not to listen then the consequences will be on their heads.’ His voice was unexpectedly powerful and the Hall fell silent. Bowlott made no acknowledgement and Draferth continued. ‘I sought Acclamation to this place because for as long as I can remember, I have revered the principles which its existence enshrines.’ He leaned forward. ‘And because, for as long as I can remember, it has relentlessly turned its face away from these principles.’ An ominous murmuring began, but he ploughed through it. ‘So much so that the Moot has become a by-word for folly and irrelevance, and the very word “Senator” is used as an expression of the utmost contempt.’ He pointed angrily towards the main entrance. ‘Out there, tens of thousands of ordinary people – the people whose taxes and tithes pay our stipends and who trust us with their authority – are looking to us for leadership. Morlider threaten our shores, the loss of trade and commerce with Nesdiryn has destroyed the livelihoods of hundreds of…’

His voice disappeared under the mounting clamour. Watching him impassively, Bowlott made no attempt to end the din. Draferth’s voice broke through briefly. ‘A dark unease is stalking the highways of our land, we ignore it at…’ but the words were lost again and, after a moment, he stopped speaking. Slowly the cacophony of shouting and abuse faded away. As it did so, Draferth looked down at the sheaf of papers in his hand. Then he bared his teeth in a snarl of determination. ‘Very well, Worthy Senators. I had hoped, against my wiser judgement, I concede, that perhaps once – just once – this gathering of the people’s representatives would set aside its childish antics and listen to a measured account of the dangerous events that are unfolding beyond the sheltered folly of this Hall.’

Someone blew a raspberry. Draferth closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ‘However, I see all too clearly that this was not to be. So I will go directly to the heart of my intention. I hereby move that Senior Warden Commander Vashnar be indicted for abuse of power, for seeking to instigate the murders of citizens of goodwill in proclaiming the Death Cry, and for instituting the formation of…’

Where before there had been uproar, now there was pandemonium. Virtually every Senator was standing, shouting and waving, demanding the right to speak. Even the hardier ones were waking. Bowlott himself was about to jump to his feet but he remembered his previous misfooting and hesitated. The pause gave him time to note the mood of the gathering. It was beyond anything he could hope to control and it would only serve to undermine his own authority if he stood up now and struck his staff for silence. He would maintain a dignified silence of his own, though it was not easy. Akharim’s Kerchief gave privileges to the wearer, but this was madness. Had the man no semblance of a sense of proportion? He must be raving mad! He looked closely at Draferth. The man seemed almost relieved by what he had done. Bowlott’s eyes narrowed. Lacing through the noise he could again hear angry voices shouting that Draferth be allowed to continue. He cursed himself. Draferth was definitely not alone. It was a conspiracy, and he’d caught not even a breath of it! His anger redoubled. He’d roast Welt and Bryk for this in due course. How could they have been so inept as to let such a thing come to pass? With an effort he dismissed his future vengeance and turned to what this conspiracy might be in aid of. It defied him. Surely Draferth was not looking for a position in the Inner Moot? And who would back him in such an attempt?

Foundering against Draferth’s continuing indifference, the noise was beginning to subside. Picking his moment carefully, and equally carefully stepping off his footstool, Bowlott stood up and struck his staff on the floor. Silence came almost immediately and all eyes were suddenly turned to him, anxious and intrigued to know what he was going to do to this preposterous newcomer. He did not get a chance to speak however, for Draferth seized the silence and continued as though nothing had happened.

‘… instituting the formation of an illegal organization, namely the Tervaidin, contrary to the practices of peace in this land, and the laws vested by the people in the Moot and the Warding.’

As if spent by its outburst, the Moot could only greet this conclusion with collective shuffling and frantic muffled whispering. Everyone was awake now.

‘I am standing, Senator,’ Bowlott boomed indignantly.

Draferth turned to him and bowed with an unexpected grace. ‘I am indebted to your skill in quietening the Hall so that I might be heard, Most Worthy Striker.’

‘I am standing, Senator,’ Bowlott repeated, even more portentously.

Draferth affected enlightenment and bowed again, almost servilely. ‘Forgive me, Most Worthy Striker. I apologize wholeheartedly for my indiscretion in speaking while you were unseated. I am still not as familiar as I would like to become with the etiquette of the Moot. I thank you for your patience and forbearance – and your guidance.’

Despite the strongly caustic inflection in Draferth’s voice, Bowlott was left with little else to do but return the bow and sit down again. Not speaking when the Striker stood was indeed a matter of etiquette, not procedure as defined in the Treatise. Bowlott’s sense of conspiracy and intentions of vengeance grew further. Nevertheless, the onus was now with him. Draferth’s motion having been voiced could not be withdrawn. Uncharacteristically, he floundered, his search for the correct procedures for dealing with such a matter being grievously disturbed by visions of what he intended to do to Welt and Bryk when this was all done with. As if sensing this pending menace, the two faction leaders were sitting stiffly upright, chins withdrawn and brows furrowed, in the traditional pose of any politician whose only resource is to look sober, dignified and fully in command of events in the presence of a reality which is totally beyond him.

‘You have first face evidence to substantiate this accusation?’ Bowlott finally managed, wincing inwardly at the sound of the hoarseness in his voice.

‘I have, Most Worthy Striker,’ Draferth replied, holding out the sheaf of papers and indicating others bound in bundles at his feet. ‘These are sworn representations from several reputable citizens concerning the activities of Commander Vashnar.’

Suddenly, relief washed over Bowlott. The Moot, as ever, had righted itself. In provoking Draferth to voice his motion prematurely, it had ensured that he would have to yield the Kerchief. Bowlott relaxed back into Krim’s sustaining cushions. He would be able to deal with this very quickly, after all.

‘Will you outline these for us, so that your motion can be considered and a vote held?’

‘That will not be necessary, Most Worthy Striker,’ Draferth said, not without a hint of triumph in his voice. ‘There are the names of one hundred and seventy-two electors on this petition of claim, and those of thirteen Most Worthy Outer Senators. Conjoined with my right of speaking, this is sufficient for my motion to be accepted without vote and a formal Inquiry to be instituted.’

Bowlott froze. Lumbering out of his vast knowledge of the minutiae of the Treatise came the realization that this was true.

‘I have the supporting references for this,’ Draferth said, wilfully misconstruing the silence.

‘I need no guidance on the Treatise, Senator,’ Bowlott croaked viciously. He felt the rows of staring eyes closing in on him like so many draining, parching suns. For a moment he seriously considered feigning collapse to avoid what he knew he must do next. Sadly, however, that would not affect the outcome of Draferth’s actions. It would only serve to add strength to those who were conspiring against him.