The Garden of Stones - By Mark T. Barnes Page 0,124
were those who, on that unhappy day, were misled by the promises of those who would steal from them their honor and the freedom to die. Since that day of treachery, the Ancestors have looked upon those who escaped with love. Have listened to us with compassion and protected our people from our own worst instincts.”
Mari scowled over the lip of her wine bowl. Her father was in his element. Standing atop a small marble pedestal overlooking the crowd, he looked every part the statesman, mesmerizing in layers of black-and-red silk stitched with fire rubies and onyx beads. She cast her glance around the room. The greater majority stared with rapt attention. However, the expressions of those from the Iron League nations and Ygran seemed to be cast from steel. The Lotus House was quiet as Corajidin continued.
“Yet we face a terrible legacy. The task before us is the most difficult to fall to an Asrahn in the five centuries of Federation. We are beset by those who would dictate our path for us. Those who would resort to force of arms to prevent our unity. These enemies watch us but do not see us. They listen to us but do not hear. They mimic us, without truly understanding the foundations of our culture and heritage. The time has come for a brave new age where the Avān can stand proudly before the world, without fear of recrimination or harm.
“The separation of state and government has sowed the seeds of prosperity, yet now we face newer challenges. Harder challenges. Challenges which cannot fall equally on the shoulders of the many. The time has come to heal the conflict in our leadership and settle the burden of accountability on one person’s shoulders, for it is only though national unity we will know triumph.
“We cannot cure all our ills at once. Reform takes as much time as it does the patience to see it through. We can address issues of security. Of peace of mind. Of the knowledge our people will be safe. To that end, if I am elected as your next Asrahn, I promise to secure the safety of our lands and our people. I propose the formation of the first Army of the Federation, beholden to the nation, rather to than the individual rahns who govern the prefectures. This army will be tasked with the protection of Avān interests both at home and abroad. It will stand firm against all threats, against either Shrīan or its allies.
“I consider it my mandate, my highest calling, to secure the right to live and the preservation of freedoms for our nation. People of Shrīan, give me five years of your trust, and I will give you the brightness of an unending count of years.
“May our Ancestors look upon us with kindness and charity, strengthen our purpose, and grant us the wisdom and the trust of our people, for we are fighting for all the Avān which have gone, are, and will be.”
The throng cheered. Mari wondered how many of them applauded because they believed her father’s rhetoric or whether they, like she, clapped because it was the safest course of action. It was not hard to read the condemnation on the faces of the emissaries from the Iron League nations. Qoro-asthra, the spectral ambassador from Mediin with his Wraith Knight guards, looked startled at Corajidin’s speech. His phantom’s face swirled, like smoke in the wind, at Corajidin’s reference to Qoro-asthra’s Mahj being an insane heretic.
Mari looked across at her father walking among the crowd, surrounded by sycophants. Corajidin smiled at her. She swallowed against the sharp fear that her father might have to die for Shrīan to know peace.
“You look beautiful, Mari! Enjoying yourself?” Yasha sidled closer. Though Mari disliked Yasha, she had to admit the woman was suited for such occasions. She looked transcendent in sheer layers of silk, red and black to match her mate. Or like some type of venomous snake, Mari thought. She suppressed a chuckle. There was little Yasha liked to do more than spread her venom, or shed her skin…
“I’ve not been a guest at one of these functions for years.” Mari gestured at the Anlūki with her gold wine bowl. “Like them, I was sworn to service.”
“And you still are, Mari!” Yasha reminded her. The people near Corajidin laughed at some witticism or other. Her gaze settled with avarice on her husband. “Enjoy it. Your life hadn’t begun until now.” Yasha shone a white smile