That evening, as the leaders convened for the mid-week repast, the assemblage beamed at me. No doubt there was to be some joke at my expense. As with all of our meetings, the Temperer’s were not present. I had left Ceki to his recognizance after the afternoon. He would have been a helpful companion where I do not like surprises. Ceki would quickly calm me with words of support – such were the best of the Temperer’s, and much to mine own. We were a good House, but I sometimes wonder at their humour.
“Brother Presam, how went your meeting with Loyal today and our dear brother Jilael?” this from a beaming Georg who held up a goblet for an instant. He was my true brother and the one to traditionally set up the joke, whatever it may be. I thought I heard a sniffled guffaw, but there was much work being done by the staff. The table was glittering with jeweled coverlets.
“Brother Georg," I began, "the offer of Loyal was not befitting our regency. It was not in line with the values of our House. I respectfully declined Jilael and request he let me know if there is a better offer in the future.”
His face cast a grim look; just a ghost of one. It shook me to the core. Something had happened. “Well, Presam, no better offer before the Proctor Elect?”
“I am afraid not.” That may have been the crux. Perhaps the Proctor Elect was key for some other machination. But I was not aware of such a dependency. Ceki never…
“And what response do you think we got from House Loyal at this?” My blood drained from me. The smiles disappeared from the assemblage. The glasses seemed to thrum through-out the chamber of the keep, “My brother – I do know not.” I swallow the salty brine of defeat.
A large serving dish had been on the table. I had not taken notice of it before. But it would be uncommon to see the main dish served before likkat. How odd it seems for the summer flowers to cascade around the frosted glass dish. The assemblage moved in upon me, subtly. Georg moved toward the dish.
“If I have been in error, I throw…” Before I could continue Georg scowled at me saying what cannot be undone. He removed the lid from the plate and I almost reeled.
The Temperer still smoked from the cooking. It had been dressed and seasoned until, I hate to say this - it smelled delectable. It was Keft. I sighed, but looked bewilderingly at my brothers. They started a low laugh and patted me on the back.
“Jilael was forced to take his life at his failure. The deal that would’ve been brokered hinged on your decision, and you made an excellent choice. To be hindered by that House.” He tut-tutted at the thought, “They have fallen in stature, some say by two seats.”
Brother Uier couldn’t help himself and pulled at the skin of Keft and put the fat into his mouth. He smiled approvingly to the group.
“Let us eat, House Sophist, and may we someday be first of the left hand!” I cried it out in relief. So are our days here in the World numbered. I drink tonight, but my core would not allow me to eat.
