69 Ancestral Assembly (1/2)
”Oh, this seems to be a common affliction amongst your people, brother,” Pachacutec said with a look at Fadelio's bandaged arm. With the fake concern in his voice as obvious as the real mockery on his face, he moved in for a hypocritical slap. ”How is your servant's hand, brother?”
”Hit his arm and you can try how it feels for yourself, brother.”
Again. The honest-to-god bastard had tried to pull the same stunt at the banquet. Even the words were almost the same. The hero didn't go through with the blatant attempt to injure Corco's attendant, not because he had been intimidated by Corco's words, but because he had, once again, felt slighted by his tone.
”Oh, and how would you do that, southerner, now that your beast has been defanged? You should feel honored to just stand here and watch my ascension. We shouldn't let the monkeys into the Ziggurat in the first place.”
”Ascend to what, exactly? Even if you win the throne, you'll be nothing but a puppet. The only estates still left at your side are the ones who will use and exploit you.”
”Prince Corco should see the allegiance around himself and recognize the truth. Prince Pacha's support extends far beyond all others, all the way into my dear departed husband's own retinue.”
With a sneer and her trademark shrill voice, Spuria Ichilia barged into the conversation. Another one Corco had more than one score to settle with. However, her words weren't untrue.
After Corco and Fadelio had made their way into the waiting hall, they had been followed by Amautu and his teacher soon after. Both princes had found their younger brother, or maybe uncle, Pacha ready and waiting right in front of the ornate stone door which would lead to the ancestral assembly hall. In truth, a fourth group of royal officials under the former emperor should have been represented as a separate, neutral entity from the princes, but the officials around prime minister Chaupic and Empress Mother Spuria were huddled around the third prince.
Chaupic glanced over to Corco's side with an awkward look. In front of the late Emperor Titu's grave, he had guaranteed his cooperation to the first prince, but now he had broken his word without so much as a warning and once again joined the Ichilia faction. Not only the prime minister, all officials seemed to have sided with the youngest prince, against convention. Still, no trace of anger could be found on Corco's face, only determination. No matter how smug they felt for now, he would guarantee his victory at any price. Step one, rattle the Furia. Normally, he would have to consider etiquette in his insults, but here was the palace. They were in a place far beyond any civility. All he had to do was make sure her reaction was even less civil than his own provocation. Easy enough.
”It's surprising that you would even dare show your face here, former concubine. Shouldn't you be worried about your affair first? It's all over the city after all.”
As expected of mother and son, both Spuria's and Pacha's eyes grew as their faces turned red at a mere mention of the truth. There was little more forbidden in the palace than spilling blood within the Moonlight Ziggurat, so Corco was already looking forward to whatever damage they decided to do to him. He would play blood fountain for a while if it would ruin House Ichilia. However, before they could do the irreversible, a loud noise saved the furious pair.
With the crunching of stone on stone, the large gate into the ancestral hall swung inside to open the path ahead. In a large semi-circle, a long stone table grew right out of the ground. The ancestors of Medala had taken seat at the table, with the oldest furthest towards the middle. A total of forty-five elders sat on stone chairs and observed the newcomers with eagerness. In the very middle of the table, opposite himself, Corco found the seat for the grand ancestor, the most senior of all the elders in Medala.
The grand ancestor should have been the one to steer the discussion and proclaim the final nomination, but to Corco's surprise, he found the seat empty. To the left of the of the high and imposing backrest sat a bald, old man with a large, gnarled walking stick. The elder stared Corco down, the malice in his watery eyes barely hidden. Across, to the right of the center, the prince found his grandfather Caelestis, the man Corco had expected in the middle. The old man met his grandson's eyes and gave him an encouraging nod. The prince looked away in disgust. He wouldn't forgive his grandfather. Not any more. Instead, Corco noted the strangeness in the atmosphere.
While Caelestis had focused on Corco, many of the assembled ancestors had their eyes on Amautu. Apparently his brother had told the truth: He really had worked hard to win over the elders. Strangely, the eyes of the old men seemed resigned or consoling, as if they had given up on Amautu's claim already. The room's entire ambiance felt as if some heavy, invisible force had laid itself on everyone's shoulders and pressed them down to force submission.
Finally, the three groups had taken position within the semi-circle, exposed to the stares of the elders from all sides. Of course the great hero would demand the place in the center, but Corco didn't mind. Today's discussion wouldn't be decided on first impressions.
Tension built between the rows of old men and the youngsters in the center, as everyone waited for the start of the discussion. In the end, two loud knocks of wood on stone broke through the room to announce the start of the ancestral assembly. Caelestis wasn't the one to lead discussions, another surprise. Rather, the bald-headed old man to the throne's left opened the assembly with a raspy voice.
”Princes! Officials! Permission to greet the ancestors shall be granted.”
In front of the ancestors, princes, officials and warriors were all the same. In unison, they went down on their knees and spoke up in one voice.
”This mortal greets and reveres his ancestors.”
”You may rise,” the old man with the staff said.
With a look of pride and contentment, he waited until everyone had gotten on their feet again before he continued.
”Before the ancestral assembly can be initiated, the ancestral hall will have to clarify one of its former decisions. Not long ago, a vile thief sneaked his way into the minds of the elders. His traitorous lies forced the ancestral hall to make correct choices based on untruths. To the great fortune of the hall, second prince Amautu uncovered the lies and caught the traitor, to be judged by the hall.”
As the elder was speaking, a warrior servant entered the room from within the back of the hall and walked around the semi-circle. He moved in front of the princes and placed a covered basket onto the floor.
”Thus, the ancestral hall judged the traitor guilty and left him to his deserved destiny.”
Without a word, the warrior pulled the cloth off the basket and presented the horrific contents to the princes and officials. Stuffed inside the basket was the head of Quirinu di Pluritac, face-up. Corco wasn't sure if the terrified look on the warrior's face was just his imagination. He heard his attendant tense his muscles in his back, but didn't expect any further outbursts. Unlike his master, Fadelio knew how to control himself.
Corco's biggest worry had become a reality: The ancestors had dealt with Quirinu behind closed doors. Not only could he no longer interrogate the warrior in his current state, he had also not been allowed to bring the issue up before the ancestors on his own terms and connect Quirinu's betrayal with the reinstatement of his status.
Now the issue was already handled. They hadn't even mentioned his name, let alone returned his status as crown prince, but any complaints would be considered rude and only lower his chances for nomination. Throughout the assembly, he would only get one chance to say his piece. He was determined to take it.
”hrmhrm...” Caelestis cleared his throat to make his presence known. The elder with the staff turned to look at his peer before Caelestis continued: ”Elder Ichilia, what of the matter of first prince Corco?”
Ichilia. No wonder the old man had looked at him like that and tried to gloss over his reinstatement. Corco hadn't expected the help from Elder Caelestis, but he was happy to take it. He assumed that the old man was trying to ease his guilt and would make best use of the chance. With an unwilling look on his face, Elder Ichilia turned back to the front to address the princes.
”Of course, now that the lie of Prince Corco's death has been uncovered, his status as a prince of Pluritac and potential heir to the silver crown shall be reinstated. However, Prince Corco's status of crown prince cannot be returned, as there is no such precedent within the annals of Medala. Thus, in accordance with the ancestral laws, the title will not be returned and the number of princes to be considered for nomination will be three: Prince Corcopaca Primu, Prince Amautu Secundu and Prince Pachacutec Tertiu. Now, the ancestors will decide on which prince will receive the honor of their recognition. If the princes feel that there are words left to appeal to the hall, they may do so before the hall's proclamation.”
A quiet murmur disrupted the peace within the hall. Foregoing any discussions in front of the outsiders was highly unusual. It seemed like the ancestors had already decided on a candidate and this meeting was little more than a show.
Still, they couldn't deny the princes their traditional chance to speak up. This was his chance! On the surface, everything was already decided at this point. However, all Corco needed to do was provide a sufficiently large outrage to disrupt their little theater. He was willing to oblige.
”Honored ancestors, first, I would like to submit this: Official seals from 43 of the estates, all of which have been cast in my support.”
Fadelio put down the metal cone he had been nursing all this time and stepped forward to present the paper with the official seals to the ancestors. However, once again in spite of proper conduct, Elder Ichilia dismissed them outright.