galvarelli/sarlastory/rikka-death-private-council-meeting.txt

Sarla couldn't quite believe her luck.

―You could attend, as my proxy.
	I believe that would be allowed.

―But, surely...
	You don't think this is an important meeting to attend yourself?

Auroklos scoffed.

―Of course not, I have other work I'd much rather do.
	If, of course, it would not prove too inconvenient for you.

It would indeed be inconvenient for Sarla to attend a private Council meeting.
Not just as an observer either, but as the representative of a Master whose rank afforded him a Council seat.

―I'm sure I will manage, Master.

---

The Council met in the Hall of Roots, in a spacious yet tastefully minimal room on the top floor, mostly decorated in rich, dark woods and a plain white stone.
A long table, dark wood framing a white stone top dominated the room.
Sarla had tried to arrive early, but found that the table was half full.
Master Yury, the Council Head, sat in his chair at the head of the table.
With Yakaterina in prison, and the Council as the last instrument of governance left to the Hierarchy, Yury was almost as powerful as a Hierarch, Sarla supposed.

Auroklos had tried to brief her on Council standards, which effectively boiled down to her staying silent unless asked a question.
But he hadn't mentioned anything as important as where to sit.

Her confusion apparently noted, Master Yury cleared his throat, to get her attention.

―Young one, this is a private Council meeting.
	You should have been barred at the doors.

Sarla felt herself sweat, oddly nervous, despite Yury's calm tone.

―Well, Master, I'm here to represent Auroklos in this meeting, with his blessing.

She pulled out the signed, sealed letter he had written only half an hour earlier.
As she walked to the head of the table, she hoped Master Yury, or anyone, would tell her to stop and just pass the letter up.
But for some reason, she made it all the way to Yury, and he took the letter from her.

He slowly opened it, snapping the seal with a precise move, and took great pains to read the letter carefully.
Then, equally meticulously, he folded the letter, and put it back in the envelope, and finally handed it to Sarla.

―It seems you are correct.
	Take a seat there, he said indicating a region on the far end of the table.

A yak with red-brown hair sputtered in outrage.

―This is unacceptable.
	If Auroklos couldn't be bothered to attend, he should have not attended, like usual.

―Auroklos was called to this Council on the basis of rank, and has the right to send a representative, Master Yury said softly.

―Get real, Yury.
	That right was meant to cover people stuck across the country when a Council meeting occurred.
	Not for a Master no one gives a shit about suddenly trying to pull some nonsense.

―Hobard, enough.
	It is in the Convocation of this Council.
	The will of the Hierarch is clear.

Hobard said nothing more, looking aggrieved.
Sarla started to turn, but Yury stopped her.

―This is the first time you have attended a Council meeting.

It wasn't a question, but Sarla nodded.

―Then I should make this very clear to you.
	The secrecy of these proceedings is considered absolute.
	Minutes taken are sealed for a century, a seal only breakable by the Hierarch.
	If you divulge anything you hear today, you will be punished most severely.

―Of course, Master Yury.

A half-formed wave dismissed her, and Sarla took her seat, feeling her legs quiver with tension.


The Ennearchs eventually filed in, or five of them at least.
The Ennearch of Strength was obviously absent, given his death.

One yak with Aspirant robes sat near the Ennearchs, presumably a proxy like Sarla for the Ennearch of Reason, who had jurisdiction over the East.
Not just jurisdiction, her home and Office would be there too, Sarla thought.
Ennearch Hatzin's Flocks tended to be in the north, yet he lived primarily in the City.

Behind the Aspirant standing in for the Ennearch of Reason stood a white-sashed Practicant, one of Simeon's Farcallers.
Another Farcaller in the East would pass messages to and from the Office of Reason, advising the proxy Aspirant what to do and say.

Some short time later, the table filled and exactly on the hour, Yury stood to open the Council meeting.

―We are called to this Council to advise her Holiness, Hierarch Yakaterina on matters of practice and doctrine.
	Let us meditate upon our purpose.
	{INSERT_PRAYER?}

Yury sat, and the rest of the table followed.
A heavy sigh, then Yury began to speak again.

―Friends, our problem has two hearts.
	First, this murder risks calling the attention of the Republic.
	President Laurence will make demands we cannot hope to meet.
	And second, I do not believe this Council can name a successor to the Ennearchy of Strength.

Yury looked as though he were about to continue speaking, but before he could, Hobard interrupted.
―Well the solution's bloody obvious, isn't it?
	Both of those problems go away if the Hierarch is rescued.

There was a brief murmur around the table, as well as some glares aimed at Hobard.

―Look, we're bound by sacred secrecy, he continued, pointedly glaring at Sarla a moment.
	Some of you have no right to look at me like that.
	Happy to talk about breaking her out behind closed doors, make plots.
	Don't tell me that you care so little about Rikka and Cobb.
	Or that you have lost faith in the Hierarch.
	We destroy the Republic if we want to survive, and we need the Hierarch to destroy the Republic.

―Hobard, you talk far too much, another yak said.

Sarla recognised her, Master Clover.
The Head of the Palace of Skies.
She would surely have known about all of the plots floating around, canny as she was.
But she said nothing more, heeding her own advice.

After a moment, another yak that Sarla didn't recognise spoke up.

―I think it's clear to everyone here with any proper sense that we cannot resist the forces that stand at our gates.
	The only thing stopping the Republic from sending the Garrison in is fear of public backlash, and Yakaterina's, well let's generously call it a scheme, would have forced their hand.
	Holy is her name and her title, but it has been ten years, and attacking the Republic is even less possible than it was back then.

A slight hum of assent went around the table.