Binary - Jay Caselberg (best electronic book reader .TXT) 📗

Sandon. He might be old, but the strength was still there, the presence; it made no sense for him to be talking about retirement yet. Still, it was sometimes hard to fathom the way the Principal's mind worked, and well beyond Sandon's place to question it.

Men Darnak waited, watching. Then, at last, he nodded briefly to one of the functionaries by the entrance and the man made a signal down the corridor. A brief moment later, and one by one, Men Darnak's children filed into the room. They each bore the pallid complexion and high cheekbones characteristic of the Men Darnak line. Leading the group was Roge, the eldest boy. He walked purposefully into the room, stopped to adjust his dark blue tunic, paused, caught Karryl Ky Menin's eye and gave a brief nod. Then he moved to the front of the crowd and stood, his arms crossed over his chest, as he faced the dais. Guildmaster Ky Menin had given no sign recognizing the acknowledgement. Interesting. Sandon glanced down briefly at his own suit, making sure there was nothing out of place.

Next came Karin, the daughter, her honey-brown hair bound in an elaborate knot at the back of her head. She walked self-confidently into the chamber and moved to take up position beside her husband, the portly Yosset Clier. She stood a good head taller than her husband, and wore an intricately carved ajura wood wedding bracelet on her wrist, matching the one on Clier's own. She barely glanced at her husband, and took up position half a step forward, her imperious gaze fixed on her father. Sandon cursed silently. She had partially obscured his view of the fat little, Guildsman--he didn't want to draw attention to himself by moving now. The children themselves were good indicators, but he needed to monitor the reactions of those within the Guilds themselves. With a grimace, he turned his attention to the last arrival.

The youngest child, Tarlain, brought up the rear. He was shorter than his brother and sister, and lacked the evident self-assurance that his siblings exuded. The younger son wore a dark blue tunic, similar to his brother's. He stopped at the entrance and frowned, as if wondering what to do, glanced across at the table where his father stood, then moved fully into the room as if sight of the Principal standing there had prompted him to action. He found his spot, stood and then looked around the room. Sandon got the vague impression that Tarlain was searching, as if by doing so he might see an exit he had previously missed. Leannis Men Darnak watched the boy impatiently, waiting for him to settle, vague displeasure evident on his face. Finally resigned to where he was, Tarlain stopped fidgeting and clasped his hands before him. Men Darnak watched him for a moment longer, then nodded and faced the room.

The Principal held the moment, and then drew himself to full height and spoke. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice, but I thought we had best deal with this while communications were all still in order, before the storms were upon us again. There are some of you who will want to convey the news of this afternoon's meeting as soon as possible."

Men Darnak's words and manner showed no sign of infirmity, nor the failing strength that came with age.

"I urge you all to use your discretion. You will be aware," he continued, "that not all Guild representatives are here with us. There is a reason for that. The announcement I am about to make will have far-reaching implications for the Guilds and for Aldaban as a whole. I wish the news to be handled delicately and in a manner befitting those closest to the Principate. The choice of those here should therefore be clear." He paused to let the words sink in, scanning the faces, pausing meaningfully once or twice as his gaze came to rest on specific people. Sandon watched, noting the reactions. The crowd waited calmly, barely a shuffle of movement apparent.

Seemingly satisfied, Men Darnak continued. "There comes a time within all proper order that those in authority must make way for those who come after them. History governs the way we proceed. Life is the greatest teacher and there will always come the time for the old to make way for those who need greater lessons than we can give them ourselves. For some time, I have been guiding my sons and my daughter in the ways of the Principate, passing on what knowledge I could, but there is only so much that can be taught. One day soon, my son Roge will take over as Principal. In support, there will be his sister Karin, and his brother Tarlain. As the time for Roge's accession approaches, it is fitting that all three take a more active role in the Principate's functions. To that end, I intend to step down from active involvement in the affairs of the Principate."

Murmurs rippled across the vast hall. Men Darnak held up a hand to still them. Surely, the crowd must have guessed�.

"Of course," Men Darnak continued, "I will still be here to guide and encourage, but from this point on, I expect all of you to treat Roge with complete respect and to grant him the authority that you have shown in your day to day dealings with me. Believe me, I will be watching." He glanced across at Sandon, held the look for a moment, and then turned his gaze to the rest of the crowd. "For the time being, I will remain Principal, but in effect, it will be Principal in title only. This will be necessary until we have spread the news of the transition in a fitting fashion."

Sandon noted the smug glance Karin shot her brother. The younger son, Tarlain seemed lost in thought, barely a part of the proceedings. Toward the back of the crowd, Guildmaster Karnav Din Baltir shifted nervously. He was watching the younger Men Darnak boy. What was troubling him? Din Baltir and Tarlain Men Darnak had already been dealing with each other for some time. What exactly did Din Baltir know that was making him nervous?

Sandon's speculations were cut short. The chandeliers above rattled slightly, the merest tinkling. Others had noticed it too and were moving away from the room's center. Men Darnak stood firmly in his position behind the large table, the only sign that he too had noticed the warning, a movement of his hand to the table's edge. Everything went still. Sandon immediately stepped backward, seeking something solid.

He had barely reached the wall when the second vibration came, stronger this time. All around the hall, people threw out their hands for support as the floor beneath them became suddenly unstable. The chandeliers bounced on their mountings, the cut glass ringing chimes across the hall. A single drop shook free, tumbled to the stone floor and shattered in a myriad of crystal shards.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, it was past. The hall was silent except for the tinkling coming from the chandeliers as they gradually settled. No one moved. Nervously they scanned the ceiling and walls, waiting. Ten seconds. Twenty. The chandeliers stilled.

A collective sigh ran around the hall and one by one, people moved away from the walls. There was slight, nervous laughter and a relieved murmur. It had only been a small one this time. Sandon looked up toward the dais. Men Darnak stood there, not even having bothered to seek anything more solid than the table. He watched the room as all around people smoothed their clothing and moved sheepishly back to their positions. Sandon smiled to himself. Even in a potential crisis, the old man stood strong.

Someone behind Sandon muttered to a companion. "So early in the season. It doesn't bode well, does it?"

Sandon missed the reply; Men Darnak's firm voice rose above them all.

"Now," he said, drawing everyone's attention, "that that's over, I believe some celebration is in order."

More nervous laughter sprinkled the room.

The Principal motioned to someone out of view and moments later, uniformed functionaries filed in bearing trays full of glasses.

Sandon circulated casually, catching snippets of conversation here and there. A smile here, a nod there, a carefully worded phrase of greeting, all eased his passage around the great hall as he kept his eyes and ears open. He noticed Men Darnak watching him once. The Principal gave him the barest of nods and then turned to converse with someone obscured behind him. The old man didn't miss a thing.

Knots of well wishers clustered around the three Men Darnak offspring. Sandon skirted the periphery of these groups. He was more interested in the interactions, the snippets of information that passed between individuals in smaller clusters on the fringes: the furtive glance; the hand on the shoulder to draw someone out of earshot; the serious expression and the frown. He was alert to them all.

He snagged a drink and wandered slowly, looking for opportunities. An animated conversation off to one side drew his attention now. The younger Men Darnak boy appeared to be in heated discussion with Karnav Din Baltir. Sandon edged closer to hear what they were saying.

"I don't care about that," said Tarlain. "Can't you see we have a duty?"

The Guildmaster sighed. "You are always so impatient, Tarlain. Why can't you just bide your time?"

"You know damned well why not. Once Roge has his hands firmly on the reins, once he's entrenched, there's not a damned thing I can do, that we can do."

"And I keep telling you," the Guildmaster replied in hushed tones. "Now is not the time to act. Wait until everything's settled. There'll be time enough to test the lie of the land then. You'll achieve nothing by undertaking anything if you're only half prepared."

"And what about the Kallathik meantime?" Tarlain was clearly becoming frustrated. "Don't you think we have a duty to them as well?"

Din Baltir raised a hand to Tarlain's shoulder and spoke even more quietly, as if urging Tarlain to follow his mood. "Quietly, Tarlain. Not here. The Kallathik have waited this long. A few more seasons won't hurt. I know it's frustrating, but if you can't keep this to yourself, you're inviting disaster."

The Kallathik? Again?

Tarlain was still speaking. His voice had raised a notch. "No! It's the common disease, just sitting back and letting things happen. I'm sick of it, always going around in circles. Lots of talk and then nothing happens. You may be happy just to let things happen of their own accord, but I'm not prepared to wait any longer."

Tarlain spun on his heel and stalked off. Karnav Din Baltir watched him go, the hand that had rested on the boy's shoulder closing slowly and moving to tug at his lower lip.

Such an impassioned speech from the boy had surprised Sandon, particularly in such a public setting. He knew Tarlain was an idealist, a little impulsive, but he would have thought him cleverer than to give vent to such words in a large public gathering. He sipped at his drink thoughtfully as he watched Din Baltir. How exactly could the succession and the Kallathik be related? Din Baltir caught his eye, and Sandon raised his glass, giving him a brief smile. Din Baltir nodded and turned away. It didn't hurt to let the Guildmaster know.

Sure that the Guildmaster's attention was now elsewhere, Sandon crossed to where Men Darnak stood in a knot of higher Guild functionaries. He took his time getting there, stopping once or twice to charm a few of the crowd and pass a few words. Finally, he stepped discreetly behind and to one side of the Principal, cleared his throat and spoke in a low