with his own walking stick. She’d warned him that the man might pull something like this as an attempt to hold on to power.
Sanyu sat back down, the impact of his body on the seat loud and his hands slapping onto the tabletop hard enough to make the nearest ministers jump.
“Whether Shanti stays or goes is my decision. Not Musoke’s, not the council’s. Your request for a trial is denied and the subject is closed,” he said.
“You do not get to make that decision on your own,” Musoke cut in.
“Actually, he does,” Lumu said. “You helped build this kingdom, as you’ve told us thousands of times, so you know that Njaza is not a parliamentary monarchy. That means all of the decisions come from the king himself. He can take the word of his advisors into account but it’s not a requirement. King Sanyu I was your lifelong friend and looked to you for help. King Sanyu II does not wish to rely so heavily on your opinion. Will that be a problem?”
Musoke hit the ground with his cane. “Tradition states—”
“Do you really want to discuss tradition, O learned one?” Lumu leaned forward. “I’m but a lesser advisor, but I would love to.”
Musoke glared at Lumu, and then his face twitched with fear and confusion for a moment; it seemed to Sanyu that Musoke had seen a ghost. Without the protection of his usual haughty expression, Musoke looked so old, and it frightened Sanyu—he was reminded of his father in those last days before his death. Of Musoke, ashen and hunched over as he sat beside the bed holding vigil.
Musoke would die, too, sooner rather than later, and Sanyu had just disrespected him, reduced him to this small, frail man before the council. Grief and guilt gripped him, even though he knew Musoke had been out of line. What would he do if Musoke died, hating him, thinking Sanyu had made the wrong choices?
What if he was right?
Darkness began to close in at the edges of his vision, and he looked at Shanti again. She very deliberately mimicked popping a piece of gum into her mouth, then nodded.
Sanyu took a deep breath, filling his lungs and then exhaling out some of the not-fear.
“I will concede the matter for now, but we will discuss it soon,” Musoke said grudgingly. “The king must think of what’s best for the kingdom, and that is not always going to be what makes him happy.”
“Having to argue with you doesn’t make me happy,” Sanyu snapped. “I hope we can come to agreements more easily than this, moving forward.”
Musoke gripped the head of his cane and turned his head. “Very well.”
Sanyu waited a moment for more disruption and felt relief flow through him when Musoke stayed quiet.
He’d won.
Musoke had backed down. It was possible that everything would be okay now. He glanced at the note card he’d written down the most important points on, the things he and Shanti had agreed to tackle. They seemed daunting, but change was necessary and there was no need to drag it out.
Rail Pan Afrique project.
UAN application.
Land mine removal charity.
Move independence parade to a later date.
Create committee to explore inclusion of women and other marginalized groups on the council, to be led by Queen Shanti.
“Next on the docket is a review of the Rail Pan Afrique decision,” Sanyu said as he began to flip through the packet that had been distributed to everyone by Lumu.
He led the advisors through the pamphlet page by page, going through the pros and cons and all possible outcomes he and Shanti had brainstormed. The not-fear was held at bay by the fact that he knew this information backward and forward, and that he truly believed it would help his kingdom.
“You are doing the work of both king and advisor,” Musoke said. “This is not your domain.”
“All that might make Njaza great is my domain,” Sanyu replied. “I believe this project is something that could bring growth and prosperity to the kingdom if managed correctly. I am hereby requesting the formation of an exploratory committee to be led by Minister Masane.”
The finance minister jumped in his seat. “What?”
“Are you capable of handling this?” Sanyu asked, brows raised.
“Yes, of course. I already have everything ready to go, Your Highness. I’ve been tracking the project in case common sense prevai—ah, in case the council reversed its decision. If you send me what you have, I’ll have something ready to go tomorrow.”
“Excellent.”
He looked at Shanti; she smiled lightly