House of the Wolf (Book Three of the Phoenix Legacy) (35 page)

He is my son, and he is innocent. I will not let him die, I will not let him be sacrificed to the greater glory of Orin Selasis
!

Honoria became aware of the other Directors, like somnambulists, rousing themselves to wonder where they were, what had happened, exchanging tentative, consulting glances.

Trevor Robek touched her arm. “Honoria? Are you . . .?”

“I’m all right, Trevor.”

Then Cameroodo, standing over the two bodies, seeming to find their presence here vaguely puzzling.

“We must . . . notify someone. . . .”

A dull rumbling; they all turned. The doors were opening. At first, Honoria didn’t recognize the man who entered, he was so pale and disheveled.

Master Selig.

She watched him make his way toward them in odd starts and stops, as if he were blind and seeking the occupants of the room by sound alone. Her heart began pounding in alarm.

The death knell.

Only now did its real meaning penetrate the barrier of mental shock. That mourning bell wasn’t tolling for two deaths that no one outside this Chamber could know about.

“My lords, my lords, my lords—
oh, Holy God
!”

Selig came to an abrupt halt when he saw the two silent shapes on the floor. Trevor Robek went to him and put a bracing hand on his shoulder.

“There’s been . . . a tragedy here, Master Selig. We haven’t had time to—”

“Tragedy . . .” The word had a strangely calming effect; Selig seemed to lose interest in the incredible fact of two bodies, one a Directorate Lord, in this august Chamber. He gathered himself into a semblance of his usual dapper dignity.

Honoria turned away, hands in fists as if she could defend herself in that sense from what she knew was coming.

She heard Master Selig say, “My lady, my lords, I have . . . I must inform you . . .”

He couldn’t seem to manage the words. She understood that; shaping grief into words inevitably destroyed the clinging vestiges of hope.

Honoria Ivanoi looked out at the white affirmation of the Fountain and spared Selig the necessity of speaking the words he found so painfully difficult.

She said them for him.

“The Lord Mathis Daro Galinin is dead.”

PHOENIX MEMFILES: DEPT HUMAN SCIENCES:
HISTORY
(HS/H)

SUBFILE: PHASE I: HOUSE OF WOOLF GALININ
LETTAPE #6: FROM LORD ALEXAND WOOLF GALININ
TO DR. ANDREAS RIIS 13 OCTOV 3259

DOC LOC #819/8-161-8237-122016 #6: 1237/118-13103259

My dear Andreas,

I’m transmitting an imagraph with this lettape—one that Adrien and I consider the best of the multitude taken of our daughter since her birth a week ago. So here is Elise, smiling winsomely. I think she’s well named, and as you can see, she even has red hair, a surprise to all of us, and she already shows signs of an inquisitive nature and an extraordinarily strong will. The twins, by the way, have accepted their sister with equanimity and no hint of jealousy. Eric has displayed his usual heedless curiosity and is inclined to find out how this new creature works by prodding and pulling, sometimes none too gently. Rich seems content to observe from a little distance.

But enough of paternal maunderings. The real purpose of this lettape is that on this day, the eve of Concord Day, it seemed appropriate to take time to look back on the first year of Phase I, and particularly appropriate to share my musings with you, Andreas. Our triumphs are yours, really, and perhaps Elor Ussher Peladeen’s.

Yet when I first set my mind to this review, my initial feelings were primarily of frustration. There is so much that hasn’t been accomplished yet and Directorate alignments are not as favorable to our goals as we had hoped. The election of Lord Garwin Wale Corelis to the vacated Selasid chair was the first blow, of course, and James Cameroodo’s first triumph. Cameroodo has, as predicted, come to the fore in Selasis’s absence as the leader of the reactionary faction. He’s a forceful man, and has Hamid entirely under his thumb, as well as Fallor, who can no longer be considered a fence rider. Even Shang tends to lean too often toward Cameroodo. Sandro Omer, perversely, still straddles the fence, despite his marriage ties with DeKoven Woolf and his generally cordial attitude toward me. It is, I’m well aware, to his advantage to hold the tie-making or -breaking vote.

But in today’s Directorate meeting, with my temper growing short while Shang and Fallor wrangled over a point of procedure, I experienced one of those rare moments of insight when one grasps perfectly the proportion of things, and I realized with a certain awe that I was at that moment occupying the chair Grandser always called so damnably uncomfortable. (He was right about that, both figuratively and literally.)

My occupancy of that chair we owe to Grandser, to the Declaration of House Succession he made with his dying breath, and as I look at this imagraph of Elise, I regret bitterly that he can’t see his daughter’s namesake, But he knew about Rich and Eric, thank the God, before he died.

And we owe the swift implementation of the lever he gave us to Father. He recognized the period of shock following Galinin’s and Selasis’s deaths and the revelations of Hawkwood’s death testament as the optimum opportunity, and although he refuses to accept due credit, he was instrumental in engineering my ascendancy to the Chairmanship in that first week. To be honest, I remember very little of those key days. I was too ill to make intelligent decisions, and we must all be grateful to Father for making them for me, and for since being at hand to aid in dealing with subsequent decisions.

At any rate, in reviewing our accomplishments, I must mark my occupation of the Chairmanship on the positive side, but I’m also aware that few concrete reforms can be counted for the year, and it’s ironic that the only unquestionable success in the area of reform is one that affects only the Elite, and that is the Elite Divorce Ruling. That was as much a tribute to my mother as the naming of our first daughter, so I’m pleased with it for that reason. Another Elite reform issue that has a good chance of Directorate approval now is abolishing the mandatory Confleet service period for Elite males.

As for the Bond Treatment Standard (it’s no longer called the G-W-R resolution since Trevor Robek asked to have his name withdrawn from it—another discouraging sign, although he still supports it, however unenthusiastically), it has had one resounding defeat already, and it would be futile to submit it again without major changes in the balance of power on the Directorate.

At least that was the doleful picture until a few days ago, when I had an unexpectedly fruitful private talk with Garwin Corelis—at his request. His election to the Selasid chair may not be as much a blow to us as we thought. He is a conservative, to be sure, but not a reactionary. At any rate, he plans to present an alternative to the Bond Treatment Standard that would not involve penalties of any kind for Houses that fail to meet the standards, but would simply offer tax levy reductions to those that do. The Board of Revenue would be responsible for judging whether a House meets the standards, which will undoubtedly be more acceptable to the Lords than inspection by a Conpol agency.

This is a compromise that falls far short of our hopes. It won’t touch the Bonds in the reactionary Houses where treatment is most inhumane; their Lords will pay higher taxes willingly rather than submit to any Concord agency’s “meddling in internal House affairs.” Yet I regard it as something to be counted among our successes. It is at least a beginning, and from it awareness may grow, and perhaps in the future Lords who do maintain the standards will put some peer pressure on those who do not. Above all, I welcome it because it was proposed by Corelis and offers some hope that he won’t be the totally negative factor we feared.

Corelis may show himself an ally in another matter, and that is the resurrection of the House of Peladeen and recognition of Jael as its First Lord. Jael Kalister—and he bears his mother’s surname well—has been ever at my side this year not only because I need him, but because it gives him opportunities to meet and to some degree deal with the Directors, and we’ve made a point of presenting him always as an aide rather than as a servant or subaltern. He is never addressed as Fer, but as
Master
Kalister, although the God knows no guild has ever conferred on him any degree ranking. Perhaps it’s indicative of his success in this ambivalent role that no guild—
or
Lord—has questioned that title.

We hope to bring the reestablishment of Peladeen before the Directorate within the next year, and I think if we can make sure of Omer’s vote, we’ll have a majority because Corelis hinted—obliquely, of course—that he might not oppose it. This is another surprise from Corelis, but indicates no sympathy for me, or the Phoenix, or certainly for Jael, but rather a personal loathing for Lazar Hamid. Apparently, Corelis feels Lazar could use more competition in Centauri.

If we succeed in making Jael Lord of Peladeen, we can count that as another victory, but as the old saying goes, victory has its price, and Jael will pay dearly for this one. The future Lord of Peladeen can’t marry as he wishes; he must remain free to make a suitable House alliance. That means he can’t marry Val Severin. Jael and Val are entirely aware of this, and both are so poignantly stoic. Since Val is Adrien’s personal secretary, I see a great deal of her, and have spoken to her about it. (Jael refuses to discuss it, turning my inquiries with a laugh and the assurance that he knows the tax on the gim.) Val told me once, “I’ll always love him, and he’ll love me, and perhaps we’ll be clandestine lovers—he wouldn’t be the first Lord to have a secret mistress—but I’ll never bear his children. Still, what we have is enough. It’s a gift, and we accept it gratefully.”

It
is
a gift, but I’m sorry they must accept so small a portion of its potentials.

But to continue my accounting. One thing can be considered a total success, but since it’s a Phoenix program, that’s to be expected, and that is the “Acolytes Corps,” as Erica calls it, and its success is due to a great extent to her training program. We have thirty graduates of the program in the field now, and where I’ve been able to make follow-up visits I’ve been eminently satisfied with the Shepherds’s response to the Brother’s acolytes, and they deserve a great deal of the credit for the thirty percent decrease in Bond uprisings this year. The fact that the Bonds now identify the Brother with the Chairman—and thus the Concord—has also been a stabilizing factor, but wouldn’t be nearly as effective without the constant reinforcement of the Lamb’s dictums provided by the acolytes. Erica tells me another class of thirty will be ready to go on line within a month, and I have no doubt the incidence of uprisings will show another marked decline by this time next year.

Another success is the establishement of ConTrans—the agency that will control the MT when it’s ready for general use. The Lords who were at first so skeptical of the MT have begun to show lively interest now that working models are available, and it’s becoming an index of status to have MTs in one’s Estate. Still, it will be another ten to twelve years before the ConTrans system is fully operational, and meanwhile we must keep the Selasid InterPlan System limping along, which is rather difficult when the family is so prone to constant quarreling. Karlis, to our relief, seems content to remain in his exile on Rarotong since the Board of Succession deposed him as First Lord, and has avoided contact with anyone, especially his uncle Godfry, the House’s new First Lord. Karlis leads an almost monkish existence, and recent information suggests that he’s turning to religion for comfort and is becoming exceedingly fanatic about it.

Perhaps that will satisfy James Cameroodo. A vindictive man, and I’ll never forget the icy obduracy in his eyes when he proposed a Directorate decree of execution for Karlis. Cameroodo regarded Orin’s death as a divine punishment and obviously felt Karlis deserved the same. I’m relieved that the only Director who agreed with him was Lazar Hamid. The rest of us even at that time, two weeks after Galinin’s death, felt for Karlis more pity than outrage. The same pity we in the Phoenix felt for the man who called himself Predis Ussber. He was mad, and didn’t deserve to die so terribly.

I’d be very interested, Andreas, in your musings on what has happened in the Phoenix during this first year of Phase I, and I hope it has met your expectations. Certainly the Phoenix has met mine, especially in the way it has assumed the role of secret partner to the Concord. I was disturbed, however, when Ben ’taped me yesterday to tell me that the Council is reconsidering the moratorium on new members. I feel very strongly that it should be maintained for at least another two years. It’s too early for us to open our doors to any but special cases; too many people seeking membership now are only caught up in the enthusiasm of the moment prevalent among radical liberals, and now that membership is no longer punishable by death, we must be careful to avoid lowering our standards of admission. Becoming a part of the Phoenix must always be a lifetime commitment, and we must continue to choose our members as if we were still outlaws.

But forgive me that little sermon. I realize you don’t need it. However, I’m concerned that Commander Gavin and Haycor of Communications, as well as M’Kim and Marien Dyce—I’m especially uneasy about Marien—
do
need it. If you think it would serve any purpose for me to deliver the sermon to the Council personally, I will, but I won’t impose myself on them unless you feel it necessary.

Adrien asked me to extend you her invitation to visit us again. As you said, the Galinin Estate is a most gracious and comfortable place, but your fears that you might get too used to comfort are unfounded; you’d only get bored with it. I second the invitation, and for palpably selfish reasons. I have so little time and my visits to Fina have been necessarily limited. Beyond that, I no longer feel at home there as I once did—again, the tax on the gim—but I miss it, and to be able to talk to you, to spend long night hours at it as Rich and I used to do, brings me home again, home to all that is important in my life, to my very humanity. Don’t deny me that.