Chapter 2 - The Mullinix Chamber
Mullinix Insegniferro was a slight frail looking man that with thick glasses and a plume of snow-white hair looked more like an aging schoolteacher than the ruler of a nation. He looked every one of his 54 years as he proclaimed a death sentence for a multiple murder. It was something he hated doing but it was the job of the Mullinix to pass an appropriate sentence for the crime, in this case the heinous murder of three children.
Mullinix-Apprentice Massimaferro was on the opposite scale, a burly man of relatively dark coloration that was only beginning to look anywhere near his 48 years of age. His eyes were attentive, watching the reactions of the crowd to make sure that something didn’t catch him that would mean they made a mistake. Seeing nothing, he kept his silence as the parties left the room.
"Mullinix sir," the page said, "There are no more cases waiting for today."
"About time," Insegniferro said with a sigh of relief, "I’ve had enough of this for today."
"You will miss sitting in that chair," Massimaferro laughed, his booming voice carrying through the hall, "You’ve been doing it so long staying quiet will be torture."
"On the contrary," Insegniferro said, standing up and putting his ceremonial hat on the table beside him, "I will be relieved that all I have to do is keep you in line."
"We’ll see," Massimaferro nodded, "Unfortunately it looks like we’ll see sooner rather than later."
"Page," Insegniferro said, "Has the Medico said sent down word on Taliaferro’s condition?"
"Mullinix-Elder Taliaferro is awake and alert," the page said, "He wanted to come down and watch the session from the balcony, but the medico wouldn’t let him get up."
"Good," Massimaferro said, "He needs to rest."
"Mullinix-Elder Taliaferro did send down a request to see you, however," the page said, "He asked for me to deliver the message when you finished with today’s sessions."
"Of course," Massimaferro nodded, "Would you kindly let him know that we’ll be there after we stretch a little and get some coffee."
"Certainly Mullinix," the page agreed and bowed before he left to run upstairs.
"Polite boy," Massimaferro said, watching him, "Who is he?"
"He is one of the orphans," Insegniferro said, "His mother died of the fever a few years ago. His father was one of our soldiers in the conflict down south."
"We still need to deal with that encroachment," Massimaferro said, "Facie is still pissed that we accepted Cirrus City’s bid for freedom from Mavelan tyranny."
"It’s been twenty years," Insegniferro sighed, "You’d think they’d just learn to forget about it by now."
The two men walked into the back part of the palace and went into the huge stone kitchen. Two of the young women from the house staff had already heard that the session was ending so the afternoon coffee was already brewing. There were two pots out on the stove for them, one weaker one for Insegniferro and one that was almost like mud, the same type that Massimaferro learned to drink on the fishing boats as a teenager.
"You think the end is coming, don’t you Iggy?" Massimaferro asked the older man, using the informal version of his Mullinix name, "Tali won’t be around much longer, will he?"
"If there was ever a man with more of an excuse for a natural death it is Tali," Iggy shrugged, "He’s among the oldest Mullinix ever to live. Most don’t make it much past seventy or eighty. Tali will be ninety-five this year. He’s even outlived one of his successors, something that doesn’t happen often around here, Massy."
"You were brought in to apprentice Crianferro, right?" Massimaferro, better known to his close circle as Massy, said as he nodded his head, "But he had a heart attack of some sort, didn’t he?"
"We think so," Iggy told him, "He died young too. Not much older than you are."
"I suppose we’d better go see him," Massy sighed, "It’s hard to see him wasting away like this."
"Nothing else we can do," Iggy told him, "Just make sure you keep upbeat. He’s got enough to worry about without him being worried about leaving us to take over."
"Optimism will be the name of the day," Massimaferro promised as he sucked down the last of his coffee, "I promise."
As they walked up the winding stone staircase they both wished they were able to feel that same optimism inside as they were trying to project to each other. It was hard when they knew that someone they had known and worked with closely was dying.