The Garden of Stones - By Mark T. Barnes Page 0,153

veterans of my Whitehorse Cataphracts here, as well as the remaining hundred of the Lion Guard sworn to defend the blood royal. It’ll have to be enough.”

“Narseh’s been spoken to.” Femensetri rose from her chair in a creak of old leather. She poured herself a cup of tea from a silver urn, did not bother to ask the others if they wanted anything. The Scholar Marshal leaned against the wall, tea cradled in her long-fingered hands. “The Knight-Marshal has been informed of our intent to exercise a Jahirojin against the Great House of Erebus. Narseh doesn’t like it but will abide provided we follow all the forms. She won’t interfere.”

“I’ve a contingent of my warriors, marshaled from the Rōmarq.” Siamak shrugged his wide shoulders in a ripple of brassy scale-mail. “They’re not many, given how much territory they patrol. Still, they’re deadly fighters and were loyal to Far-ad-din’s vision for Amnon. They’ve no love for the Asrahn-Elect.”

“I also have my children from the Taumarq,” Kembe rumbled. “Of course I cannot act in an official capacity, though as nahdi in the employ of the Great House of Näsarat…”

“Stormbringer?” Rosha turned her gaze upon the black-cassocked scholar.

“I’ve had the contracts written up.” Femensetri tapped a sheaf of papers on the desk with a chipped fingernail. “They only need to be signed. Kembe, your people will be in Roshana’s service until this business is concluded.”

“Thank you for your help, Kembe.” Rosha nodded her head by way of a bow.

“We want to avoid bloodshed as much as we can,” Mari urged. “I know the temperament of the forces serving my father. Without decisive leadership they’ll not commit to a battle. It’s Belamandris’s Anlūki, whatever nahdi my father has in his employ, and the Iphyri we need concern ourselves with. Perhaps some fifteen hundred warriors in all.”

Kembe dismissed the danger with a wave of his hand. Mari shook her head at the casual bravado of the High Patriarch.

“The Feyassin will hold the Tyr-Jahavān until the Speaker has addressed the Teshri,” Qamran confirmed. “Our enemies will want to take and hold the parliament building as soon as they know what’s happening. Hopefully the Teshri will have made a decision prior to Corajidin returning to Amnon. If not, it’ll be hard work for us. Even with Kembe’s Tau-se, our forces number slightly more than five hundred.”

“Remember this isn’t about fighting a war.” Femensetri tossed the dregs of her tea out the window. “We only need isolate Corajidin and have the Teshri agree to remove him from power. Ziaire?”

“Corajidin still has most of the Teshri’s vote,” the woman replied. “My friend Guita of the Family Parje-Sin has cordially invited most of Corajidin’s supporters, as well as others, to a revel at her estate on the banks of the Anqorat. The great majority of them left Amnon last night by pleasure-ship and will be out of communication for days. While we couldn’t remove all of Corajidin’s allies, many have been accounted for.”

“To think we are manipulating the Teshri the same way Corajidin did,” Nazarafine said mournfully. “I should never have tried to influence the Teshri to allow Vashne to remain in power…”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Femensetri growled. “Focus on the now, Speaker.”

Mari stretched her legs under the table. The now was precisely what bothered her. No matter which way she looked at the situation, Mari could not help but see bloodshed.

“I’ll summon enough of the Teshri for a quorum,” Nazarafine said. “We need to ensure they’re advised that a Jahirojin has been declared, to prevent them from interfering. They’ll be informed this is now a personal matter between two Great Houses.”

“Will you take the regency, Nazarafine?” Femensetri’s opal eyes were fierce. “With the Asrahn-Elect gone, you’re the next in line of succession.”

Nazarafine rose from her chair to stand beside the window. Her hands were white-knuckled where they gripped the windowsill. “Femensetri, do you have the writ of deposition drafted?”

Mari hung her head. With two pieces of parchment, Nazarafine was about to petition the Teshri that her father be deposed from his position as governor of Amnon, as well as stripped of his role as Asrahn-Elect. Only an Arbiter’s Tribunal and a full assembly of the Teshri could petition for him to be stripped of his rank as rahn. Such was unlikely. Her father would either die of his illness, unless his new allies could keep him alive, or fail his next Communion Ritual and damn himself there. Rosha winced as Nazarafine signed the papers, having done something similar