"Yes."
"Enya has spoken of you." The sylph looked as if she stared at a legend.
Sandev could not disguise a delighted grin, now that more and more of her senses returned. This little snippet had just made her life a great deal easier. "Well, Salu, I am here now. Shall we play a little game?"
Salu's eyes lit.
Sandev dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't tell him I'm here. Bring him outside and let me surprise him. Like I surprised you."
The sylph grinned and nodded. She disappeared inside at a run.
Moving quickly, Sandev moved across the garden and hid behind some roses, still able to see the door. She stilled a delighted grin and felt young again. Moments later, she heard a familiar voice.
"What's gone with you, Salu? It's too early for games. All right, I'm coming!"
The door opened and Sandev had to restrain herself from leaping forward.
He had hardly changed. Short, barely taller than most women, stocky. Silver hair hinted at great age; he was already old when the Father had granted His Gift, but his eyes were as piercing as ever.
"I hope you've not dragged me out here for nothing, Salu."
"It's a surprise for you!" The sylph danced around him, but the sparkle began to fade from her eyes.
Sandev stepped out into full view.
"Still grumpy as ever, Grayar." She smiled at him.
Grayar's expression changed from exasperation to astonishment to pleasure in less than a heartbeat. "Sandev!" He even managed a rare smile, a small miracle in itself. "Come inside. Inside with you. You've arrived just in time for breakfast."
Sandev stepped forward. Most of her worries dissolved, as always when in Grayar's company. "You do know I'm here asking for help."
A shadow flickered in his blue eyes. "Eat first. Talk later. Salu, you come inside too. Troubled times are upon us again."
***
Chapter 11
Manumission
Senate Leader Lanas stared in consternation at Supreme Councilor Olista. His speedwell gaze, still disbelieving, turned to Zenepha. The sylph's silvery gray eyes were calm and his earpoints stood upright to show he, at least, felt perfectly at ease.
"You want what, Supreme Councilor?" asked Lanas, as if he had not heard properly the first time. He looked at Zenepha as he spoke, but his attention then returned to the Supreme Councilor.
Olista smiled. "I'm here to ask the Senate to manumit my slave."
"To manumit Zenepha." Lanas shook his head.
A murmur of confusion rumbled around the Senate. People often brought human slaves before the Senate for manumission, to ensure that the slave's freedom was recognized, but a sylph had never stood before them. Rules about humans and slavery were very different from those concerning sylphs.
"That's right." Olista nodded. "To manumit Zenepha."
"Have you fallen to the madness sweeping the city?"
"Of course not."
They had the wild sylphs to thank for the madness Lanas referred to. The wild ones could not understand how their city-dwelling cousins tolerated their low status. Most city sylphs feared freedom, but some now questioned their collars. For the moment only a few, but once an idea took hold, it could gain its own momentum and turn into an unstoppable force.
Olista's request might add fuel to the idea, but that was a problem for another day.
Lanas turned to Zenepha. "Have you?"
The sylph almost gaped at the question and quickly shook his head.
"You ask us to manumit a sylph born to, and intended for, slavery," continued the Senate Leader. "I'm not sure we can legally do such a thing."
"Nothing in Markan Law says that all sylphs must be slaves," countered Olista. "And there's nothing to say manumission cannot be granted."
"Our predecessors drafted the law for human slaves." Lanas's expression almost dared Olista to argue.
"But the law does not specify human slaves." Olista smiled. "More particularly, it does not exclude sylphs."
"Because it is taken as read that sylphs are slaves," protested the Senate Leader.
"It is assumed," agreed Olista, "but not stated. Legally, sylphs can be manumitted because nothing says they can't be. Do not forget that the rights and customs of the wild sylph tribes are enshrined in Law. If their freedom is assured, it must be accepted it is possible to manumit civilized sylphs."
Lanas sighed. "Wild sylphs' freedom is assured, but Zenepha is not a wild sylph. And the law clearly states the Senate must hear manumissions before approval. And we are unlikely to agree to this sylph's manumission, despite the words of a vociferous minority of outlanders."
Olista almost retorted that if a vociferous minority became a vociferous majority, the Senate might be in trouble. "Nothing in law says only humans may have their manumissions read in the Senate; neither does it state that a committee need vet them first. Accept or reject."
Lanas shook his head. "Most manumissions are for criminals who have completed their service early. After Helena, you should know that."
"Most is not all, Senator Lanas. The law does not exist for that reason."
"We will not approve this manumission."
"Why not?"
"Because it is the place of sylphs to be slaves."
Olista assumed an innocent expression. "Really? So you approve of sending slave raiders against the free tribes? You are about to enslave them?"
"Do not be ridiculous," snorted Lanas. "As you have pointed out, their rights are enshrined in Law. I refer to civilized sylphs, born to slavery, raised as slaves and who know nothing but servitude. What good will freedom do Zenepha?"
The sylph almost nodded agreement. The Senate did not know why Olista wanted to manumit him; it would like the reason even less than he did. All he wanted was to serve his master and owner.
He had no interest in the discussion between sylphs who wanted to stay as they were and those who wanted freedom. He suspected owners feared that more than sylphs intended to debate it. The owners feared their property might suddenly and collectively demand freedom.
Zenepha doubted that would happen and suspected most sylphs would ultimately reject the idea.
Olista took Zenepha's left arm and pushed up his shirtsleeve. "See this?" He indicated the tattoo of many straight black lines. "Do you understand its significance?"
A low murmur ran around the Senate.
Olista nodded and continued. "Of course you do. This sylph is from the Key. We don't know if he was born into slavery, or sold into it. We don't even know for sure that sylphs are slaves within the Key."
Lanas stared at the tattoo until Olista released Zenepha's arm. The sylph carefully pushed his sleeve back into place.
"Well?" demanded the Senate Leader. "Were you born to slavery or sold into it?"
Zenepha, who had not expected to be included in this human ritual, shrugged. "I have no memory from the Key."
"Convenient."
"My memories were stolen," protested the sylph. "I would have them back now, if I could."
"You remember nothing of the Key."
A senator came to the rescue. "This problem is common in sylphs from the Key," he said, hands gripping the chair before him. "Few have any memory of before they were sold outside and even then memories are vague."
Olista did not turn his head to know that one of his supporters had just spoken. I wonder if Trinitan will still be a supporter when he hears the rest of it. The Supreme Councilor interrupted quickly, before the debate got sidetracked. "If we cannot prove either way whether or not Zenepha was born into slavery, the Senate must recognize that it is possible to manumit him."
"I remain unconvinced," retorted Lanas.
It is quite all right, thought Zenepha, leave me as a slave. I am happy with my owner and do not know how to cope with responsibilities the free must shoulder. Leave things exactly as they are.
He stayed silent.
"I want his manumission read," insisted Olista. "As is
my right and my slave's privilege."
"Read it," called out an anonymous voice. "If the Supreme Councilor wishes to release his slave, let him."
Lanas spluttered. "We still have the boy's welfare to consider," he protested. "How will Zenepha make a living? How will he earn enough to feed himself, never mind his wife? How –"
"With respect," interrupted Olista, "but that is between him and me. I have employment for him that demands a freeman for its role."
Zenepha almost turned to stare at his owner and his earpoints lashed in agitation. Given the events over the past few weeks, he felt surprised nobody guessed which job his owner hinted at. Then again, that was too preposterous for anyone to think up by themselves.
"You have no legal right to delay these proceedings any longer." Olista was gentle. "Read his manumission."
Lanas shook his head. "Very well." He turned and laid a hand on Zenepha's head. "Zenepha-y-Olista, by the authority vested in me as Leader of the Senate, for the Greater Glory of the Supreme Designer and Being Divine, I hereby manumit you from bondage and slavery. You will keep the name Zenepha-y-Olista, as you know no other. But from this day, you are free." He took his hand away and glared at Olista. "I hope you've not condemned this boy to a life of poverty."
Olista smiled, reached into his robe, and passed a parchment across. "Since the Senate rejected the other claimants to the Throne, the Supreme Council recommends this person to act as Emperor as a temporary measure. A caretaker, if you like."
Lanas's face darkened as he scanned the parchment. "You have tricked me!" he hissed, looking up again. "A slave cannot be Emperor!"
Olista inclined his head and lowered his voice so only the Senate Leader could hear. "He's not a slave, you just manumitted him. I leave you to debate the Supreme Council's recommendation." About to leave, he paused and raised his voice. "I also inform you that, should you defy the Supreme Council once again, the Senate will be dissolved. Good day, gentlemen. Come, Zenepha."
"What's wrong?" asked one of the senators.
Lanas glared at Olista's back as he left the Senate, Zenepha in tow.
The Leader turned back to face the senators. "The Supreme Council have recommended Zenepha-y-Olista to take the Throne."
A horrified silence met his words, broken only when somebody laughed. "A sylph as Emperor," gurgled the laughing senator. "Brilliant; quite brilliant!"
***
"They'll never go for it," said Zenepha, as he and his former master left the calm of the coronation building for the bustle of Marka's streets. "They'll never want me."
"Why not?" retorted Olista. "If they reject it, we'll just do without the Senate until after you've been recognized and then reform it again."
"Can you do that?" The sylph sounded troubled.
"If you'd read those books properly, you'd know there are precedents."
"With civil war following."
"How do you think historians will view what's happening now throughout what used to be the Markan Empire? When they write Volume Eighteen, it'll be as if those Prefectures were never independent. Just because blood isn't running through Marka's streets, it doesn't mean there is no fighting at all."
"And if the Empire does not rise again?"
"All things demand a certain level of risk." Olista smiled. "And I take only calculated risks. Don't forget if the Throne falls into abeyance, Marcus and Verdin Vintner will leave and we'll be naked to Hingast's bloodlust. He is coming."
"How can I stop them leaving?" Zenepha felt a twinge of fear at Hingast's name.
"By your choice of advisors. Our sources have been busy since the Vintner armies began camping outside the gates and we've gleaned some excellent intelligence. Even better, I know just the place to share it with you."
Now spring had taken charge of the weather, people could eat outdoors and Olista guided his erstwhile slave to a quiet corner of the small eatery, where they were unlikely to be overheard. The entire front of the building stood open, with tables and chairs set outside. Olista ordered for them both.
The girl who served the Supreme Councilor gave Zenepha a level look, as if surprised to see a sylph eating with freemen. Her eyes widened when she noted the lack of collar. With a clatter of ankle bells, she pattered back inside.
Zenepha watched her go and sighed. This did not feel natural. He thought the other customers watched him, though when he looked around, nobody paid him any mind at all. Just a sense of strangeness he hoped he could quickly leave behind.
"You were going to advise me on a choice of advisors," he prompted, once alovak was served. He inhaled its rich aroma and grumbled. "The bean smells much better. Sylphs prefer water."
"Try the alovak," suggested Olista. "You might like it."
"Se bata."
Olista laughed. "No need for that," he said.
The sylph managed a wan smile. "It will take getting used to," he replied. "I feel undressed." He stroked his neck where, until less than an hour before, a collar had been fastened. "Missing it already." He managed to give Olista a reproachful look with his silvery gray eyes and his earpoints twitched backwards once. He changed the subject. "Advisors."
Olista nodded. "One from each of the factions," he said, "even the one supporting Hingast. Whoever you appoint will doubtless be a spy – they'll all be spies for someone or other, for that matter – but best to be as inclusive as possible. I speak only about political advisors."
"And military advisors?"
Olista gave the sylph a broad smile. "I'm glad you appear to have read those books after all. Involve the outlanders as much as possible. Try not to tread on Captain Crallin's toes too much. He's an excellent commander of the City Guard, but I suspect his siege craft will prove inadequate. And he is not politically minded."
Like me. Zenepha already had several names in mind. "You are aware that I want you to be an advisor?"
"Thought you might." Olista smiled. "As Supreme Councilor, it's part of my job to advise you. Behind the scenes, I'm quite happy to be more than that for you." He turned as the serving girl left the building, bells jangling. "Here's our snack."
Zenepha looked down at the mixed fruit and vegetables set down before him. He had never felt so small in his life. "They'll never accept me," he whispered.
Olista leaned forward. "Come, come!" he chided. "Let me tell you something. People see what they expect to see. If you keep that attitude, they'll see a manumitted slave on a Throne intended for humans. Change that attitude to one of command and they will follow. Seize the initiative; keep those in positions of authority or power too busy to see anything other than the Emperor doing what he should. Once Hingast is defeated, everybody'll see the Emperor, not a sylph."
"Hingast might defeat us."
"Then it won't matter what people think; we'll all be dead or worse."
Zenepha looked unconvinced. "What about the other Prefects?" he asked. "They might not accept me."
"Leave things as they are for now. The two Vintner armies can be used as a lever against the other Prefectures. Remember Hingast is our first worry as he can't be too far away. And there are other things you must do."
The sylph twitched his earpoints, but said nothing.
Olista continued. "The system of measurements must be standardized again. Length, area, weight and volume. We have more different coins and weights of coin and clippings of coin than ever before and people are sometimes overcharged for goods and services. That needs sorting."
"Why has it not been done?"
Olista looked at his sylph in surprise. "There was me thinking you'd read those books properly after all, then you go and prove me wrong. Oh well." He shook his head and prepared to launch into a lecture.
Zenepha stalled him. "Only the Emperor has the authority to allow these things," he whispered. "Marka still uses her old measures, but the Prefectures have gone their own way."
Olista allowed a tight smile for a brief moment. "While we're discussing the Prefectures, once it's known that
Marka has an Emperor again, it'll be interesting to see how many return to the fold."
"Or are driven further away, knowing they are ruled by a slave." Zenepha sounded bitter and his earpoints wilted.
"Will you stop doing yourself down? You're more intelligent than many humans I know."
"I feel better already." Sarcasm laced the sylph's voice.
"You know more of how Marka ticks, and of the Supreme Council and Senate, than most others will ever learn. I'll teach you how to play one faction off against another, how to make alliances and forge partnerships with the right people at the right time." Olista smiled again. "They'll be telling stories about you centuries from now, of how a sylph ruled an empire and changed human perceptions of your race forever."
Zenepha was wide-eyed. "Assuming the Senate accepts your recommendation, they'll call me Zenepha the Unwilling."
Olista took a large swallow of alovak and all traces of humor disappeared. "When Hingast gets here, I hope they don't name you Zenepha the Unready."
***
"This recommendation holds surprising merit."
Senator Elvert Nerrit was a strong advocate for Verdin Vintner. He preferred to ignore the inconvenience of Branad's renunciation of the claim in favor of Marcus Vintner.
Now Olista had left, the Senate debated the Supreme Council's latest recommendation. The threat of dissolution had shocked most senators and now hung over them. A threat never used in living memory.
Elvert continued to speak. "We know that of the factions in the Senate only two have a winning chance. Both are evenly balanced. Whatever the rights and wrongs of the various claimants, we know there can be no outright winner at the moment. A caretaker Emperor is a good idea; a sylph caretaker Emperor is superbly astute."
"How so?" asked Lanas, who still felt tricked. "It's ridiculous."
"Let us suppose that we put a senator on the Throne, or even the Supreme Councilor. Does anybody believe he would surrender that power in favor of someone with a genuine claim to the Throne?" Elvert looked around the chamber while he paused. "A sylph would be more than happy to surrender it. None crave power and, if one has power, is glad to be rid of it. It's not in sylph nature to rule as they are neither raised nor trained for it. All reasons why I'm happy to support the motion."
"Excuses, not reasons," snorted Senator Cleran. "Just another ruse to block the true Emperor from his birthright. We rejected two false claimants; we should invite the genuine man to take his rightful place."