law states the title Lord of the Farlan is for the Chosen only, and an appointed regent must come from the nobility. Lord Isak cannot simply nominate a successor; that invites the creation of dynasties.’
There was a moment of silence. The point was valid; the Synod approval had been vital to shore up an uncertain claim. It was an irony that the move intended to provide a rallying point to the tribe had instead sparked fresh divisions within it.
‘And you think to make this point with an army at your back?’ General Lahk asked suddenly. ‘The politics are not my concern but I’m General of the Heartland, with orders enshrined in law that go beyond the current ruler of the tribe. If any army crosses this boundary into Tirah territory, I am bound to respond.’
‘You did nothing while mercenaries ruled the streets of Tirah!’ Temal said angrily, ‘and the new High Cardinal has been consolidating his power since the entire Palace Guard left.’
‘My duties are unclear regarding troops gathering on Tirah’s streets,’ Lahk said, unconcerned by Temal’s tone, ‘so Chief Steward Lesarl guided my actions and Lord Isak approved them. There is no issue of clarity regarding troop units exceeding a regiment crossing that border without permission.’
Temal stood. ‘Unlike some suzerains I have heard of, military action is not our intention. We will only act if we hear reports of the cults breaking the law — but permit me to make this very clear: the power of the Farlan has always resided in the hands of the nobility, and that’s always been kept apart from the cults. No court-ranked nobleman may take holy orders; no cleric may hold command rank — this is the law that has kept our tribe strong, and we will defend that position against all who threaten it.
‘Inform the creature Fernal of our position. There are some who may intend insurrection — both for and against the cults, make no mistake about that — but I believe I represent a majority opinion among the nobility. We are willing to fight to stop the cults gaining any further control over the tribe, and we expect Fernal to withdraw his claim on the title of Lord of the Farlan.’
Interesting, Vesna thought, listening to the measured tone of Temal’s voice. I think this one’s trying to be nice to all sides, and come out as the suzerain who helped avoid bloodshed. The more he smoothes things over now, the more useful he’ll appear to any future leader desperate to keep peace.
‘Who would you have take his place?’ Torl asked in a horrified voice, as though he was already expecting the answer.
‘You, my Lord Suzerain,’ Temal said stiffly, ‘to be regent of the Farlan until our Patron God chooses one to take Lord Isak’s place. You can unify our tribe, Suzerain Torl — perhaps you alone can prevent civil war.’
Desultory drizzle welcomed the remaining regiments to Tirah; the faint patter wiped out by the sound of hooves on cobbles. Vesna rode at the head of the cavalry, watching the faces of those they passed and trying to gauge the mood of the city. There was no hostility in the faces he saw, but no celebration either. The citizens of Tirah looked tired to him, worn down by the struggles of the different factions, and the fear that accompanied those struggles. They waited impassively for the soldiers to pass, but as worried as that made him, the Mortal-Aspect of Karkarn saw other things to concern him more.
The presence of priests on the streets was no great surprise — their bile and fury would have dissuaded many from attending temple, so it had always been likely the priests would eventually follow — or chase — their flocks into the street. That every major street corner had a priest preaching was troubling, as was the venom with which they harangued passers-by — and even the cavalry, until their attendants hushed them.
Every preacher had at least a handful of penitents guarding them, a necessary precaution considering the raised hackles their words were causing among the people. Vesna knew that folk wouldn’t go against armed troops, but angry words were being exchanged all over the city. He couldn’t help but be put in mind of Scree in the days before the population lost its sanity completely. He shuddered.
When the procession reached the lower end of the Palace Walk, Vesna saw a crowd up ahead and called a halt. The people were blocking the street and