CHAPTER 29
Chapter twenty-nine
The meeting chamber seemed vast and empty without all the armoured bodies and weapons in it.
Hallie slumped slightly against the bench, doing her best to ignore how uncomfortable it was against her back, particularly when it pushed the armoured vest she was wearing into her skin.
She drank more of the fluid Duncan had left for her and imagined that each sip was sending more energy into her body, accelerating her recovery.
Girard stayed next to her, sitting shoulder to shoulder, the adapted weapon on the bench seat behind them, ready to hand in case they needed it.
Hallie also noted that Girard and Accalon had positioned themselves so that they were each facing one of the exits from the room.
Maintaining watch, ready to act if needed.
She felt that she should have been helping, despite the exhaustion holding her in place, and decided to focus harder on her recovery so she could actually do something if it was needed.
After what felt like a long period of quiet and stillness, Lamorat stood up again.
“Colleagues, it looks like we are going to be here for a while, so may I propose that, rather than sitting here with our justifiable grief and anger, we use the time for some business?” His voice was calm, firm, carrying through the room.
“That seems like a better use of our time than wallowing,” Ocvran agreed. The old man pushed himself up from the bench where he’d been sitting, his eyes moving around the room until his gaze reached Cotovatre, still tucked in beside Emmet. His face softened. “What say you, my lady?”
Cotovatre lifted her head and straightened away from Emmet.
She looked at the sinisir who brushed his hand over her cheek, a somehow grave smile on his face, as if trying to reassure Cotovatre that he would be fine on his own.
The lady nodded, once, and got up, heading down the steps to the meeting table.
Her movement seemed to stir the remaining Conclave members to action and they filed after her.
Far fewer than they had been that morning.
The morning’s total of twenty-three had been reduced by eight.
Five of their number had died in the molten river.
Echoid’s body lay not far from the table, a silent and damning testament to Hoel’s betrayal and deadly intent for them all.
There was yet another Conclave member dead nearby, killed in the shooting along with his aides. And of course, Hoel himself was absent.
It didn’t take long for the remaining Conclave members to settle.
Hallie wasn’t sure if they were in their normal places or not, but they had gathered at the far end, under the light of the great window with its etched glass, now peppered with small, dark dots that each represented one of the bullets that she, the zauber and Emmet had deflected.
Despite the distance, she had no difficulty hearing the conversation.
Lamorat and Cotovatre had taken places at the far end and had engaged in a brief, low-voiced discussion on their way to the table.
Lamorat had also signalled for his aides to move down to a bench as close as possible to the table.
The aides had unfolded the bags they carried into what looked like miniature desks across their laps, and were poised, ready with notepads and pens.
When everyone was in place, Lamorat rapped the table once. “I call this meeting to order. Any objections to my taking the chair?”
No one spoke.
“Very well. In the circumstances, I propose an emergency vote. The proposition is that we remove Hoel Buchanan, Cladas Larch and Nanters Gable immediately from their seats as Conclave members now and forevermore.”
“I second the motion,” Cotovatre said, voice cool as she looked across the table to where Cladas and Nanters were sitting together.
“Now, see here,” Nanters began.
“Shut up, man,” Ulfiam said, surprising Hallie with the venom in his voice. “You conspired with the traitor Hoel to circumvent the order of this Conclave. Your plan failed. You don’t get a say now.”
A ripple of agreement made its way around the table.
“All in favour, raise your hands,” Lamorat said.
Hallie watched, fascinated, as everyone apart from Cladas and Nanters raised their hands.
“With that clear majority, motion is carried.” Lamorat turned his gaze on Cladas and Nanters, and even across the room, Hallie could feel his fury.
“You are removed from the Conclave now and forevermore. My only regret is that we cannot at present remove you from the building. For now, you will vacate this table and take places on the benches. Immediately.”
Both men looked as if they wanted to argue, but, to Hallie’s surprise, didn’t speak. Instead, they rose and headed away from the table, moving up the stairs to find a bench away from everyone else.
“With all members of the Conclave present, I propose that we vote on Lady Cotovatre’s motion,” Lamorat said.
“My lord, you’ll forgive me if I don’t immediately recall what that was,” Ocvran said. “It has been a somewhat eventful time.” The gentle understatement prompted a ripple of sour amusement among the Conclave members.
“You are quite right. My apologies,” Lamorat said, inclining his head to Ocvran. “The lady’s motion was to grant the island of Paradise a seat on this Conclave, to be occupied by a representative of their choosing.”
“Ah. Yes, of course. I second the motion,” Ocvran said.
“Very good. Let us vote. All in favour, raise your hands,” Lamorat said, and put his own hand up as he spoke.
With her breath caught in her throat, Hallie watched as every single member of the Conclave raised their hands and cast their vote to admit the very first human representative onto the Conclave.
She felt unexpected tears sting her eyes.
Cotovatre had warned her, only the night before, that the vote might fail.
The Conclave was full of hochlen with strong opinions, who were used to unquestioned power.
Hallie could easily understand how many of them would find it shocking to admit a human representative to sit with them on equal terms. That would certainly have been Hoel’s position.
But it seemed his plan to overthrow and destroy the Conclave completely had brought about the opposite effect.
With the evidence of violence all around them, and several of their former members complicit with Hoel, it seemed that even the most conservative of the remaining Conclave members were now in favour of reform.
She leant against Girard, listening as Lamorat then read the next motion, which was to grant a widow, Elayne Arthur, the rights and titles to her late husband’s estate, in effect making her the head of her own house.
Once again, Hallie knew that Hoel would have been against the idea, as it flew in the face of hochlen tradition.
Once again, the vote passed without any dissent, and Hallie noted that not one of the Conclave members seemed reluctant or hesitant in their vote.
With that business out of the way, Hallie thought Lamorat might pause, but he had a hard glint in his eye as he looked around the table. She wondered what he was going to suggest next.
A soft cry of alarm was the first warning she had that not everything was going well.
She turned her head and saw more people coming into the chamber through the partially destroyed emergency exit that Peredur and the others had cleared.
Too late, she, Girard and Accalon had been completely distracted by witnessing the Conclave in session.
The first outsiders to do so. That mistake had cost them.
It wasn’t the large group that had arrived before, armed to the teeth, but a much smaller group of five people, two of whom she knew well.
“Didn’t miss me at all, did you?” Hoel Buchanan asked, descending a few of the shallow steps towards the centre of the Conclave chamber.
He had stripped off his Conclave robes at some point since Hallie had last seen him, revealing the same black body armour that the tactical team wore.
He’d sheathed the sword at his back and had supplemented it with a compact automatic weapon of some kind, settled in a holster by his side.
He carried the matte black gun with the same ease as the tactical team wore their weapons.
The two blond hochlen men stood slightly behind and on either side of him, their eyes watchful as they looked over the room.
Hallie’s attention slid past Hoel to the man standing nearby.
Findo Trask. After weeks of chasing him across the world, he was now in the same room as her, but on his own terms. The veondken was dressed in a pale dress shirt, its collar open, and dark trousers, his bronze skin and black hair with its vivid red streaks a stark contrast to the three pale-skinned, fair-haired hochlen.
He looked perfectly at home, perfectly confident in the place where only hochlen had set foot until now.
The self-assurance made Hallie uneasy. He might be young for his kind, and prone to violence, but Findo was not stupid.
He would not have come here, into this space and face to face with the Conclave, without a plan.
The sheer arrogance of his presence here took her breath away even while she tensed in anticipation of what he might do.