‘isn’t it sort of redundant at this point anyway?’ Tynian asked. ‘We’ve already sent for Wargun ‘and told him that there’s a Church crisis.’
‘Somebody probably neglected to tell Ortzel,’ Ulath replied. ‘He’s a stickler for legalities, and there’s no real point in disturbing his sensibilities, is there?’
The weedy monk, his face absolutely white, rose and cleared his throat. His voice was squeaky with fright as he began. ‘The Patriarch of Kadach has correctly cited the law,’ he declared. “The question of Crisis of the Faith must be put to an immediate secret vote.’
‘Secret.?’ ~Makova exclaimed.
“Such is the law, Your Grace, and the vote is to be decided by a simple majority.’
“But -‘
“I must remind the Patriarch of Coombe that further discussion is not in order.’ Ortzel’s voice cracked like a whip. “I call for the vote.’ He looked around. ‘You,’
he snapped at the clergyman sitting not far from the goggle-eyed Annias, ‘fetch the instruments of the vote.
They are, as I recall, in the chest at the right hand of the Archprelate’s throne.’
The clergyman hesitated, looking fearfully at Annias.
‘Move, man.” Ortzel roared.
The priest jumped to his feet and ran to the shrouded throne.
‘Somebody’s going to have to explain this to me a little better,’ Talen said in a baffled tone.
“Later, Talen,’ Sephrenia told him softly. Sephrenia, wearing a heavy black robe that looked slightly ecclesiastical and concealed her race and sex, sat amongst the Church Knights, almost totally concealed by their armoured bulk. ‘Let’s watch the exquisite dance being performed before us.’
“Sephrenia.’ Sparhawk chided her.
“Sorry,’ she apologized. ‘I’m not poking fun at your Church, Sparhawk, just at all this involuted manoeuvring.’
The instruments of the vote consisted of a fairly large black box, quite dusty and totally unadorned, and two plain leather bags securely held shut with stamped leaden seals.
‘Patriarch of Coombe,’ Ortzel said quite concisely. ‘You hold the chair at the moment. It is your duty to break the seals and cause the ballots to be distributed.’
Makova Glanced quickly at the law clerk, and the little monk nodded. Then Makova took up the two bags, prised open the leaden seals and took an object from each. They were perhaps the size of a common penny. One was white and the other black. “We will vote with these,’ he declared to his fellow Patriarchs, holding the counters up. ‘Is it agreed that the black means no and the white yes?’
There was a rumble of agreement.
‘Distribute the counters then,’ Makova instructed a pair of youthful pages. ‘Each member of the Hierocracy shall receive one white counter and one ‘black.’ He cleared his throat. ‘As God gives you wisdom, my’ brothers, vote your consciences in this matter. ‘ Some trace of colour had returned to Makova’s face.
“He’s been counting votes,’ Kalten said. ‘He’s got fifty-nine, and he thinks we’ve only got forty-seven. He doesn’t know about the five Patriarchs hiding in that closet. I’d imagine those five votes will come as quite a surprise to him. He’ll still win, though.’
‘You’re forgetting the neutrals, Kalten,’ Bevier reminded him.
“They’ll just abstain, won’t they? They’re still looking for bribes. They’re not going to offend either side.’
‘They can’t abstain, Kalten,’ Bevier told him, ‘not on this vote. Church Law says that they have to come down on one side or the other of this question.’
‘Where did you learn so much about this, Bevier?’
“I told you that I’d studied military history. ‘
‘What’s military history got to do with this?’
‘The Church declared a Crisis of the Faith during the Zemoch invasion. I looked into it as part of my study.’
“Oh.’
As the two pages were distributing the counters, Dolmant rose and walked to the huge doors. He spoke briefly to the members of the Archprelate’s guard standing outside and returned to his seat. It was when the two boys distributing the counters were nearly at the end of the fourth row of the crimsoncushioned benches that the door opened, and the five nervous Patriarchs who had been in hiding filed in.
‘What’s the meaning of this?’ Makova was goggle-eyed.
“The Patriarch of Coombe is not in order,’ Ortzel reminded him. Ortzel seemed to enjoy saying that to Makova. ‘My brothers,’ he began to address the five, ‘we are presently voting on -‘
‘It is my responsibility to instruct our brothers,’ Makova said vehemently.
‘The Patriarch of Coombe is in error,’ Ortzel said in a clipped voice. ‘It was I who put the question before the Hierocracy, and, therefore, the responsibility is mine. ‘ He quickly explained the vote to his five fellow Patriarchs. He stressed the gravity of the situation to them, something Makova surely would not have done.
Makova regained his composure.
‘He’s counting votes again,’ Kalten muttered. ‘He’s still got more than we have. It all hangs on the neutrals now. ‘
The black box was placed on a table in front of Makova’s lectern, and the Patriarchs filed by, each depositing one of his counters in the slot on the top of the box. Some were quite obvious about which counter they were depositing.
Others were not.
‘I’ll take care of the tallying,’ Makova declared.
‘No,’ Ortzel said flatly, ‘at least not alone. It was I who placed the question before the Hierocracy, and I will assist you.’
‘I’m beginning to like Ortzel more and more,’ Tynian said to Ulath.
‘Yes,’ Ulath agreed. ‘Maybe we misjudged him.’
Makova’s face grew more grey as he and Ortzel began to tally up the votes. There was a hushed, almost breathless silence as the tallying continued.
‘And done,’ Ortzel said curtly. ‘Announce the totals, Makova.’
Makova threw a quick, apologetic glance at Annias.
“The vote stands at sixty-four yes and fifty-six no,’ he muttered almost inaudibly.
‘Say it again, Makova,’ Ortzel prompted. “Some of our brothers have failing hearing.’
Makova gave him a look filled with hatred and repeated the totals in a louder voice.
‘We got the neutrals!’ Talen exulted, “And we stole three of Annias’s votes as well.’
‘Well then,’ Emban said mildly, ‘I’m glad that’s been settled. We have much to consider, my brothers, and very little time. Am I correct in assuming that it is the will of the Hierocracy that we send immediately for the Church Knights – and the armies of western Eosia as well – to come to our defence with all possible haste?’
‘Will you leave the kingdom of Arcium totally defenceless, Emban?’ Makova demanded.
.Just what’s threatening Arcium at the moment, Makova?
All the Eshandists are camped outside our gates. Do you want another vote?’
‘Substance,’ Makova said flatly, insisting on a 60 percent majority on the question.
“Point of Law,’ Emban replied. His fat face had an almost saintly expression. He looked at the law clerk.
“What is the law on matters of substance under these circumstances?’ he asked.
‘Saving only the election of an Archprelate, a substantive vote is not required in time of Crisis of the Faith, Your Grace,’ the monk replied.
“I rather thought that might be the case,’ Emban smiled.
‘Well, Makova, do we vote or not?’
‘I’ll withdraw the question of substance,’ Makova conceded grudgingly, ‘but exactly how do you propose to get a messenger out of a besieged city?’
Ortzel rose again. ‘As my brothers may be aware, I am a Lamork,’ he said. ‘We are well accustomed to sieges in Lamorkand. Last night I sent twenty of my own men in disguise to the outskirts of the city and beyond. They are awaiting only that signal which even now rises as a plume of red smoke from the dome of this very Basilica.
I would surmise that they are already riding hard for Arcium – at least they’d better be, if they know what’s good for them.’
‘I’m going to like him,’ Kalten grinned.
“You dared to do this without the consent of the Hierocracy as a whole, Ortzel?’ Makova gasped.
“Was there ever any doubt concerning the outcome of the voting, Makova?’
‘I begin to catch a strong smell of collusion here,’
Sephrenia said lightly.
“My brothers,’ Emban continued, ‘the crisis we presently face is clearly a military one, and for the most part, we are not military men. How may we avoid the errors, the confusion, the delays which untrained and unworldly Churchmen must inevitably cause as they flounder through unfamiliar complexities? The leadership of the Patriarch of Coombe has been exemplary, and I’m sure we join together in expressing our heartfelt gratitude to him, but, regrettably, the Patriarch of Coombe is no more well versed in military science than I, and I’ll confess it freely, my brothers, I can’t tell one end of a sword from the other.’ He smiled broadly. “Quite obviously, my training has been with eating implements rather than with those of war. I’d be happy to accept any challenge in that area, however. My opponent and I could happily duel to the death on a well-roasted ox.’