The Steward and the Sorcerer by James Peart (small books to read .TXT) 📗

had better hope it was the sorcerer who did.  He brushed aside a feeling of sudden impatience.  It was time to wait.  Knowing when to do so and when to act could mean the difference between life and death.

18.

Late the next morning Karsin Longfellow strode across the courtyard toward the halls of the Confederation Council chambers like a visiting dignitary.  Everywhere he walked, he drew attention, men, women and children making way for him, offering flattering words and gesticulating as he went past.  He acknowledged them with a terse nod and an occasional wave of his hand, smiling faintly, his expression otherwise neutral.  His head was lowered in a seeming act of deference, yet he felt neither deferential nor fondly aloof.  He viewed those he passed, indeed the entire citizenry of Brinemore, as nothing more than subordinates, there to do his bidding.  They counted for little with him other than the uses to which they could be put.  He would take from their number to expand his great Northern Army, be it to extend his influence in the Drague territories East of Brinemore or to push further south and conquer the Cru Dynasty.  They were merely pawns in his campaign to extend his power over the Northern Earth.  The subtext of his speeches underlined this, if not the general content, which was delivered with an unrivalled eloquence amongst his former peers who currently staffed the Council.  A gifted orator, he could move the minds of men with a single statement or opening remark.  He had a politician’s talent for distilling the essence of a complex idea or sequence of ideas into a simple word or phrase.  Not that he carried the politician’s burden of having to constantly prove his worth to the public as an elected official.  His stewardship of Brinemore was now effectively permanent.  Yet it was important to maintain the appearance of gratitude of his high station, especially as he never wanted them to see how he used them.  The blanket of conditioning he provided them with served at one and the same time to protect the citizenry and smother those who would act in ways that might threaten to undermine his selfish plans for advancement.  Under the mantle of his leadership, he made it all seem logical.  The dawn raids into the Southern Territories, the pillaging of tribes East of Brinemore, communities whose members held little more than sticks with which to defend themselves.  The widescale stripping of forest land to build more and more garrison towns to station troops in regions his army had conquered.  He made it all seem natural, as inevitable as ordinary fate.

It had taken a long time to arrive at this point, years to build up the Northern Army to a size that could take on Brinemore’s neighbouring cities, regional Kingdoms and trading unions, years before that, before his rise to become Steward of Brinemore when he was a struggling clerk in one of the Council chambers.  Times were different then.  Brinemore was not yet the force it would become in the Northern Earth.  Money was hard to come by and many people bartered for what they needed or went hungry.  He came from a provincial town in one of the outlying regions and had had to leave his family behind when he succeeded in getting a job as office clerk.  From the outset, he was ambitious, driven in his early years to prove his worth to those he left behind.  He had no contacts, or money of his own.  He lived in a run-down squat on the outskirts of the city, barely able to afford even that.  In his favour, he had a sharp mind and a knack for understanding the politics of the office in which he worked.  He could easily grasp new ideas as they came about and explain them to those around him.  He was imaginative, but this was worthless in the context of his job.  He knew from the beginning that he wanted to enter politics but did not know how to go about this as most if not all of those positions were occupied by individuals with means or friends of the Governor or Steward.

Then two things happened.  The Governor of the region that controlled Brinemore decreed that the stewardship of the city- along with positions in the hierarchy that supported it- should be offered in an open system to those who merited it rather than be awarded to members of a closed network.  It was the beginning of the modern Confederacy that Brinemore evolved into and a step taken to ensure the city’s survival in the increasingly aggressive Northern Territories.  One of the first actions taken by the Governor was to promote Longfellow’s friend and immediate supervisor to the role of Speaker in what would become the first Confederate Council.  Threy Tin had long recognised Longfellow’s intelligence and drive and they often talked together about how they would change the city for the better given the opportunity or how they would defend it if presented with the threat of being conquered by a rival province.  Tin immediately suggested Longfellow’s promotion to a seat on the Council yet was nearly unanimously outvoted by the other members who feared a swift return of the old system of friends supporting friends.  He countered this decision with a suggestion that Longfellow prove his value in a speech made to the Council, which they agreed to.  That speech, which later became part of Brinemore legend, ensured him a seat and set a precedent by which future members would be elected.

However, despite this rapid advancement, it was as many as 12 years later before Longfellow would finally become Steward of Brinemore.  The city was going through rapid changes.  Its population increased ten-fold over the next five years and much of the citizenry emigrated to foreign lands and regions, prospered and returned with great wealth and ideas on how to spend the money to improve the city.  The Confederate Council