Chapter 18 #2
We embrace briefly, our usual show of sentiment, though I know that we hold more affection for each other than anyone else in our clan save our parents.
Our parents are now getting older. They both stepped back long ago from the hunt and never pursued seats on the council of elders.
They are happy in their retirement. As brothers, my father and Harlok could not be more different.
I am glad my parents had no part in this deception, though I know they would not have allowed such a thing to occur to any leader on principle alone.
“Harlok’s sway over the council of elders is stronger than I thought possible.
He has subtly led decisions on the hunting groups, giving easier runs to the kin of his supporters.
It is disgusting. We will have a generation of undertrained hunters and all the ramifications that it brings if this continues.
Not to mention another group will be worked to the bone just because their families are not politically connected,” Elgar states bitterly.
The elders have long overseen the hunting groups in order to prevent such blatant favoritism as this. Obviously this approach was na?ve.
Harlok. My dislike for him grows with each passing year and with good reason.
He is an embittered old male who now walks with a cane after he was gravely injured by revenants fifteen years ago.
The ripple of chaos his sudden departure from power caused could only be quelled by a strong leader.
Me, apparently. Taking a seat on the council of elders is a privilege.
There is no shame in coming to an age that would qualify someone to become an elder.
In fact, it is expected of former Huntmasters.
The position is meant to be aged out of, which is why we have our elders to help guide us through those transitions.
Unlike Harlok, most choose to end their reign gracefully.
They realize it is their time to step down before it is challenged by an unwise hunt or by another skilled hunter seeking to oust them.
In addition, he has always encouraged our worthless cousin to undermine me.
I guess it was by design. No doubt he is doing the same to Elgar now.
And as a result, Harlok undermines the stability of our clan.
He has yet to accept that his son Torman will never prove himself worthy of the position.
He spoiled Torman and never held him to the same standard as others.
And my cousin inherited the worst of his father’s narcissistic traits.
Torman always wanted the easiest path, never bothering trying to become a great hunter or skilled tradesman for our clan.
“Harlok’s actions do not surprise me. How easily the other elders fell into line does,” I confess somberly to Elgar.
“The corruption runs deeper than I thought possible. Past generations of elders would turn in their graves if they knew about this. If Tallan Frostweaver could be swayed so easily, the rest are just as compromised.”
“The council of elders holds no value to our clan anymore in the current form. They are a liability for us, in fact. We cannot trust any of them to oversee their own reform, rooting out their corruption from within. We must wipe the slate clean and appoint a more balanced and principled group of elders to sit on the council. It will be hard for some to swallow, but once we make public what Tallan has told us, the clan will be on our side. It is detrimental to too many hunters and their families to let it continue,” he argues.
When we return to the settlement, we waste no time calling an immediate clan assembly.
We will not let the council of elders poison the well any further.
Some groups of hunters are away on long hunts.
But their families are still here, and they will not take kindly to the news we are about to share.
My brother and I stand in the public square, where the roof of our cavern reaches its highest point, at least ninety feet high, and gradually slopes lower a mile in each direction until it meets the cavern floor.
Public buildings surround the open space of the square.
Our structures were constructed mostly with stone, mortar, and clay repaired countless times over the centuries.
Wood is less common since trees do not grow this far into the Arctic Circle.
Artificial suns light the entire cavern, powered by the magick we absorb from Malefic Folk.
The cavern itself is a natural wonder that our forebears settled millennia ago.
Though what little the clan tolerates of magick, we had it magickally reinforced long ago and it continues to hold without issue.
The crowd grows large straightaway. This is an unusual occurrence.
Some hunters congregate near us, looking concerned and not a little disgruntled.
“Norrell, have you returned for good? Or are you abandoning us again for a witch?” one spews with unearned cockiness, spitting on the ground in disgust.
I level him with my own withering gaze. He is one of those benefitting from Harlok’s stranglehold over the hunter assignments. No doubt there is a strong current of disrespect and bigotry among that group. They are in for a rude awakening.
“Brothers and sisters of the clan,” I begin.
“Elgar and I have grave news concerning the council of elders. They have been conspiring for many years, not only to undermine the leadership of the Huntmaster of the True North, but also the egalitarian opportunities given to the hunters in our society. For years, they have granted the easiest, safest hunts to those who garner favor with Harlok and the rest of the elders he pulled into his schemes. He works to undermine the very fabric of our society, the foundation of our clan’s ways. ”
Elgar, who has always been more at ease with public speaking, steps forward and elaborates in excruciating, undeniable detail how this was done and why.
Much of this information came from Tallan directly, who also provided evidence to back up his claims. Two other elders who in the past had been trustworthy, or so we thought, came forward similarly once Tallan told them he confessed everything to Elgar.
The insolent hunters who stood near us earlier have conveniently vanished from the crowd. No doubt escaping the public shaming. But their names will still be dragged through the frosted bedrock as enthusiastic participants of this treacherous favoritism.
As Elgar thoroughly demolishes the reputation of Harlok and the council of elders, Harlok and Torman storm into the square.
“They lie! I have done no such thing. Yes, we kept information from Norrell Snowstrider, but only because he was never worthy of leadership! He swooped in and stole power for himself! He wanted to change the old ways. So we did not let him. We have strayed too far from our era of heroes! I alone am working to bring us back to our prime. Under Norrell, we are growing weak, breaking with the heroic ways of our past. He has put the interest of filthy magick wielders and Whispered Folk above our own since my reign ended,” he shouts in a frenzy, spittle flying from his lips.
This unhinged declaration does not sit well with the crowd, whose chatter intensifies during his speech. “You make us weak, Harlok!” A voice yells from the crowd. “No hunters should be coddled!”
“Send your own weakling son on a month-long hunt, Harlok. See how he fares in the rough so far away from his family,” clamors another.
The jeers continue, turning into chants against Harlok and the elders. Those in attendance, including Harlok, quickly leave the scene when it’s clear that no one believes him.
When the crowd calms again, Elgar resumes his speech, elaborating on how he has agreed to take over my position permanently once he receives the votes needed from our hunters.
He will have to wait to make it official until the rest of the hunters have returned.
But in the meantime, he will continue to act in my stead, as I am stepping down from the role of Huntmaster of the True North.
The noise of the crowd swells after the declaration, but it seems supportive.
He sighs roughly, his disgust with the council of elders written on his face.
When he finally resumes his speech, he lays the situation bare.
“A layer of black, putrid frost formed over this corrupted body. The council of elders is hereby dissolved, and the members lose their title as well as the respect of the clan. They are all disgraceful. A stain on our history. The council will be formed again in time with elders who are committed to upholding the true values of our clan. And we will formalize the scheduling of the hunts and make the process public. We will also introduce programs to train hunters from all backgrounds who are interested in leadership on the hunts as well as working toward the role of Huntmaster of the True North. Our society hinges on these opportunities made available to all of us. Our heroes of the past were not kings and queens, but extraordinary hunters from all walks of life. We will not tolerate the gatekeeping of power to only those who are most connected. It is a cycle that perpetuates systemic deception and inequity.”
The crowd responds enthusiastically. Many surge forward to speak with me and Elgar, vocalizing their support for these ideas, many wishing they had been implemented decades ago.
If nothing else, I hope that Elgar has been put in a good position to lead them into a better future. One that I relish leaving behind.
That night, we gather in our family home. Elgar and I leave first thing in the morning to retrieve the relics. A large group of capable hunters volunteered to accompany us. While most still do not trust other Whispered Folk, they want to join us on principle in light of the elders’ wrongdoing.