The August 5 (6 page)

Loud voices filled the air as the two sides shouted accusations across the floor. All except Colston Shore, who sat back and let the others squabble. Gavin's attention zeroed in on the lean, arrogant Shore. His cool detachment in the midst of the heated arguing made Gavin nervous. Kaplan stood up and slammed his gavel against the table. In the stillness that followed, Karl Anderson raised his hand and was acknowledged by the adjudicator.

“I move for a vote of no-confidence for Mr. Hywel,” Anderson said. “Given his absence in a time of national crisis, we need a leader who can act decisively.”

“I second the motion,” Colston said. His supporters stamped their feet in approval while the members in the East Tier hissed their disapproval.

“I nominate Colston Shore as his immediate successor,” Anderson said.

“I move that the vote of no-confidence be postponed,” Shieldman called. “There are extenuating circumstances that must be taken into account. Mr. Hywel must be given a chance to justify his actions.”

The disapproving utterances of the Carvers in the West Tier were louder than the shouts of approval from the East Tier. By law, the chief administrator was the only one who had the right to postpone a vote in the Chamber, but because of Hywel's absence, the decision fell to the adjudicator. All eyes turned to Adjudicator Kaplan, an elderly Zunftman who had declared himself a Carver at the beginning of the summer. It had barely registered to anyone at the time, but now his allegiance to Colston Shore took on exaggerated importance. Adjudicator Kaplan made a show of consulting the ledger and then proclaimed:

“The vote of no-confidence will proceed.”

The Carvers stamped their feet in approval. Hywel's supporters glanced at one another uneasily. If the vote was held today, Colston Shore would be the next chief administrator, which had been inconceivable only a few months before. Colston had tried to force a vote during the last session on a sweltering day in July, but he'd failed to oust Hywel. Now, Colston Shore was poised to ascend to the highest position in the Zunft.

Gavin shifted uncomfortably on the wooden bench of the viewing loft. Despite the gravity of the proceedings, there were only two spectators in the cramped balcony above the Chamber floor: Gavin, and the official journalist from the
Zunft Chronicle
—Gavin recognized his face from the portrait that ran with his articles in the newspaper. At the moment, he was polishing his pocket watch and seemed to be paying little attention to the proceedings below him.

One of Hywel's reforms had been to open the proceedings of the Chamber to the public, which, for the first time, allowed cottagers to witness how the laws of the country were made. But Michael Henry had discouraged cottagers from attending the Chamber sessions, saying the system was rotten from the inside out. Gavin and Michael Henry were close friends and Gavin didn't disagree with that assessment. But he went anyway, in defiance of his friend, saying that there was much to learn from watching the Zunftmen in the Chamber. After the Rising, he had expected the viewing loft to be packed with curious onlookers, but it was as empty as it had been during the previous session.

The adjudicator raised his hands for quiet, but it took several minutes before the ruckus died down.

“All in favor of continuing the term of Mr. Hywel?” Adjudicator Kaplan asked. The East Tier did its best to vocalize their support for their absent leader, but the diminished ranks of Hywel's men sounded small in the echoing Chamber.

“All in favor of electing Mr. Shore to be chief administrator of these islands?” Kaplan asked. Even before the old adjudicator finished his sentence, the Chamber erupted into deafening support for the leader of the Carvers.

“The Zunft has spoken!” Kaplan shouted above the noise. “Colston Shore of Shore Manor, near Port Kenney, Aeren Island, is the new leader of these islands, our great Seahaven!”

With a sinking feeling, Gavin stopped writing and shoved his spectacles higher on his nose. How had that happened with just one vote? Because Seminary was not an option for a cottager, Gavin had studied jurisprudence on his own and he knew that the proceedings hadn't followed the letter of the law. Shouldn't it have been a vote of no-confidence and then a separate vote for the next chief administrator?

Colston strode to the center of the Chamber. With gray hair, sunken eyes, and a thin, prominent nose, he reminded Gavin of a bird of prey. Gavin wrote in his notepad:
Very much a predator despite his unassuming appearance
. Colston laid his hand on his heart in thanks and bowed slightly toward his supporters.

“My fellow Zunftmen,” he began. “My greatest fears have been realized. The cottagers have shown their true brutish nature. Mr. Hywel insolently accommodated them, which was a grave error indeed. Still, they resorted to violence. Now there is no end to what they'll demand. They would see us all dead in the ground!”

The West Tier erupted in stomping and hissing, while the remainder of the Hywel supporters gaped at the blatant disrespect directed toward the former chief administrator. Mr. Shieldman raised his hand and waited to be acknowledged, but Kaplan's gavel remained on the table.
So much for being a partial observer
, Gavin thought as Colston continued.

“As reported in the
Zunft Chronicle
, we have arrested the ringleaders and charged them with treason. I move that the trial be held immediately. Let's deal with this situation en masse and hold swift executions for the guilty. We must demonstrate our ability to render swift justice before the situation worsens.”

All of Hywel's supporters were on their feet, shouting out in protest. Gavin sat in stunned silence. A mass trial and execution meant the August Five could be dead in less than a week.

“Under Statute 389 of the penal code, you may not hold a mass trial for treason,” Shieldman shouted. “The accused are entitled to separate trials.”

“An absurd law that simply slows the wheels of justice,” Anderson called, leaping to his feet. “I see that Mr. Shieldman is continuing Mr. Hywel's soft-fingered approach to the cottagers.”

Shieldman flushed, and even some of Colston's supporters seemed embarrassed by Anderson's language.
Soft-fingered
had a number of meanings, ranging from insulting to derogatory.

“Quite the contrary, Mr. Anderson,” Shieldman replied, his voice shaking with anger. “I'm protesting a
soft-fingered
approach to our code of laws.”

There was an uneasy silence as Kaplan consulted his ledger, flipping slowly through the pages and running his finger down the page. With a slight nod, he acknowledged the existence of the statute. The chief administrator's first act had not succeeded, but he seemed surprisingly undeterred.

“Due to the precariousness of our state, I'm presenting the Ancestral Homes Act.” Colston motioned to Kaplan, who held out his right hand with his palm facing up. Gavin knew that this motion indicated that proper procedure had been followed. Colston Shore must have submitted the Ancestral Homes Act before the Chamber had convened that day. Colston probably knew that his attempt for a mass trial would fail and had a backup plan. Gavin considered the extent of Colston's manipulations with a growing sense of unease. In July, after Colston failed to oust Hywel, Gavin had assumed that Colston was no longer a player to be feared. But that assessment had been painfully wrong.

“You may read the language yourselves before the vote, which will be held tomorrow. But here are the fundamentals: All cottagers must present official identification cards when questioned. If they cannot, they may be detained immediately and deported to their ancestral bond estates as determined by Zunft Records. Anyone without proper paperwork can be detained for an undefined amount of time until such an investigation is concluded.”

With that, Kaplan slammed the gavel and ended the session.

Baine felt as if the floor had dropped out beneath him. In Sevenna City, most cottagers were required to register their addresses with the Zunft, but they simply ignored it. This legislation meant that people would have to carry the proper paperwork or they could face arrest for no reason at all. Colston Shore had come to power and his first act was against the cottagers' rights. Gavin had a sudden urge to go back to his newspaper offices, write an article, and tell the world what he'd witnessed in Chamber. He pulled off his flat cap, tucked it under his arm, and ducked out the door. He didn't care how many more times the Zunft destroyed his printing press. He wouldn't let himself be silenced by a man like Colston Shore.

7

SHORE REPLACES HYWEL AS CHIEF ADMINISTRATOR

Toulson Hywel failed to attend the emergency session of the Zunft Chamber. At least thirty of his supporters succumbed to Colston Shore's manipulation and switched their allegiance to his faction, which is known as the Carvers. Using unlawful tactics, Colston Shore ascended to the highest office of Seahaven. In his first act as chief administrator, Shore tried to avoid the Zunft's own statutes and hold a mass trial of the August Five. By law, those accused of treason are entitled to separate trials and competent legal representation. The motion was suppressed, but will the August Five be given a fair trial under a chief administrator who is willing to break the laws of the land?

The
Zunft Chronicle
reports that maritime traffic delays forced Hywel to miss the session, but this reporter found no delays in the ferry schedule. Where is Toulson Hywel?

—
JFA Bulletin,
August 12

“The vote was staged. Without Hywel, there was no one to stop it!”

“Can they truly enforce the Ancestral Homes Act? Some of those bond records are a hundred years old! It will be economic chaos.”

“Forget economics. It's slavery!”

Tamsin could hear the urgent conversation through a grate in the floor, but it didn't make much sense to her. Her head still felt like it was stuffed with cotton from drinking root tea to take away the pain of her injuries. The only voice she recognized was that of Brian Leahy, the patriarch of the Leahy family and her father's close friend. Tamsin was staying at the Leahys' home, a narrow row house near the Lyone River. Heat from the woodstove rose through the grate into the little sleeping room that had once been a closet and could barely accommodate the cot where Tamsin rested. Instead of being dark and oppressive, the tiny room felt cozy and safe. The walls were painted a bright yellow with a vibrant mural of a sunflower above her bed. In Sevenna, several cottager families would often share one row house, and space was at such a premium that even the unlikeliest of spaces were inhabited. The Leahys had made a special effort to make this windowless room a pleasant place for their guests.

A white candle flickered on the nightstand beside her. Tucked under a colorful quilt, Tamsin lay on her uninjured side. She felt lonely and wished she had the strength to get up out of bed and join the people downstairs, but whenever she sat up, she felt too nauseated to stand. She listened as the voices grew more agitated:

“Where were the people during the Rising? Too scared to take to the streets!”

“What about the pub, Brian? What's going to happen now?”

Brian and Katherine Leahy ran a popular establishment known as the Plough and Sun. Cottagers couldn't own property, so a Zunft family name must have been on the title to the pub, but everyone referred to the pub as the Leahys' place. The urgent conversation continued as Tamsin dozed off. She dreamed that she was walking with her mother, Anna, on a rugged beach back on Aeren. She tried to hold on to Anna's hand, but her mother kept disappearing into the mist. In her dream, the waves crashed loudly and the mist encircled her like a funeral shroud. Finally, she saw her mother's blond hair gleaming through the fog, but when she reached out to touch her, Anna shattered like glass.

When Tamsin awoke later, the candle had burned down to a stub. The many voices she'd heard beneath her were now gone, replaced by silence. In her drowsy state, she had the impression that the front door had clattered opened and slammed shut. Maybe that had jarred her awake. She wondered what time it was. It seemed like it must be the middle of the night.

“Hello, Gavin,” she heard Mr. Leahy say through the grate in the floor. “Take your coat off. Have a seat.”

The rocking chairs creaked as the men sat down in front of the fire. When they began to talk, their words were so clear it felt like she was in the room with them.

“Are you all set up?” Mr. Leahy asked.

“Everything is operational,” Gavin answered. “We assembled the presses last night. I printed the first newspaper today with the news about Shore and the Chamber. He's obviously bought Kaplan off. Having the adjudicator on Shore's payroll is going to be a serious problem for us.”

“Everything will be harder from now on,” Mr. Leahy said. “Colston Shore is a dangerous man. He's a bigot and an extremist in a way that goes beyond most Zunftmen.”

There was a long silence. Tamsin tried to imagine what was happening. Were they staring into the fire? Was someone getting a cup of coffee?

“Any news about Hywel?” Mr. Leahy finally asked.

“No,” Gavin said. “Colston and his cronies have tried hard to destroy his reputation. But if he arrives tomorrow, I still think he could put his faction back together.”

“What was the vote on the Ancestral Homes Act?” Mr. Leahy asked.

“Seventy-five to twenty-five,” Gavin said. “I'll list the names in the newspaper for the public record.”

“What about the trial?” Mr. Leahy said. “Has anyone been to the prison to see the fellows?”

“No one can get in to see them,” Gavin replied. “Jack's wife, Meg, is at the jail every day, petitioning for a visit. She needs to be careful or she's going to get arrested herself.”