65 – in which Adamas Kallen wins Arko

The votes were counted in the order that they had come in. That meant the City Itself first; we’d soon learn what effect Miksas’s story had had.

As part of the beginning ceremony, each candidate swore to adhere to the will of the people and accede to the result, whatever it was. I was the one who took their oaths.

Kin Immen Kazien and Mil Torii Itzan had, wisely, given up all hope, and so swore in effect to surrender their ambitions, doing it with a certain resignation. Adamas swore with a smile on his face that let me know clearly he was sure he had it. When he looked at me afterward, his smile was unpleasant, as if to say, “I will correct all you’ve done, and there is nothing you can do about it now.”

It was just dark enough now to see the glow of the globes on the flags; the Celebratory Bounty people were preparing the mirrored beacons for lighting. The desk-to-flag messengers had begun running, and the flags to move; no surprise, the red-silver and the green had already jumped up higher than the blue and the orange. The crowd waited, still celebratory but more tense now.

Minis paced back and forth frantically; I saw him glance at the slate-clad roof and curse it inwardly for a moment for not being smooth enough for skates, and perhaps also for not being water so that he could swim. Kall, who had lived through advancing into a hundred battles, stood steady and calm as stone.

I thought Kin might leave after swearing rather than stay to make a concession speech at the end; I wouldn’t have blamed him. But he stayed, with a courage I had to admire. I went to him to shake his hand and thank him for running, and we exchanged some kind words.

Mil stayed as well. His round frame was dressed to the utmost as always, brocade and braid and jewels to excess, with blue as the clear theme; of course he’d lose with pride. I went to him also. “I am ashamed of some of my own people,” I said.

“Imperator! Please don’t take responsibility for that! Please. I…” He let out a heavy sigh. “If I am honest with myself; I am probably best running fetes anyway, not the empire.”

“I just wish that you were losing for better reasons. I thought it was a mistake getting entangled with the hawks, but you couldn’t know just how bad it would turn out to be.”

He shook his head. “Most of them in the dungeon now, or fled… if I had ever dreamed they were capable of—”

“I know, Mil. I wouldn’t have dreamed it either. I never liked Faraiko much, but I didn’t think she’d sink as low as to steal an election; that they’d sink even lower was entirely beyond me.”

“Still, I thought I liked them, and it’s not a good recommendation for my judge of character. Not good in an Imperator. I’ll admit I’m disappointed. Just imagining it was astonishing.”

It’s for the best you don’t have to live it, if that’s how it seems to you, I thought. Skorsas’s words about me taking all the romance out of it came back to me. He and Mil were so alike.

“I have to tell you in all honesty, Mil, a good Imperator just doesn’t find that much time to entertain. I think you’d miss it.” Let him take comfort from that.

“I would have had a good chamberlain… but I do enjoy planning these things myself. It is a bit like having been blinded by the Sun for a moment or two. Perhaps the new Imperator will need someone to organize his parties, no?”

“It would be worth asking, whoever gets it.” He showed me the first smile he had, tonight.

“Heh,” he said, his smile widening. “Had you told me fifteen years ago I would be speaking so familiarly with the Imperator I would have laughed. So I have risen far, even if I haven’t grasped the Rim. Thank you again, Shefen-kas. I guess I should run over my ‘It was a wonderful attempt, thank you all’ speech.”

“Yes, you and two or three others. I’ve been working on my farewell speech, in the back of my mind. This might seem surprising, but I’m going to miss Arko.” I had just been saying the same to a writer who had asked. “Maybe not every single little thing about Arko, but... most of it. I never thought I’d come to love this place.”

“It’s a wonderful thing that happens when two guests with wildly different outlooks meet at a gathering and find a passion for each other,” he said. “Now and then, it’s been a source of pride to me; I am at heart a matchmaker.”

“More like two guests who were locked in death-battle, knocking over the canapé tables and sideboards and golden lamp-stands,” I said laughing.

His smile grew impish. “You and the candidate for Regent would best know the passion that can arise from that.”

I smiled in spite of myself, and cast a glance at Kall, who stood tall and beautiful near the edge of the roof, his hair falling like a golden waterfall down his back, against deep red velvet. “Yes.”

“I think you will miss him the most, You Whose Love Touches All.”

“I will, but it’s only be two years. And this is making the unfounded assumption that he and Minis win.” I glanced at the flags; Adamas’s was a shade higher. It will be different outside the City where Miksas’s story didn’t reach in time, I told myself. “You Whose Love Touches All... I’ve never heard that one; did you just invent it?”

“Yes. For the look in your eyes when you looked at him. I trust that you will know that I can’t possibly be flattering, when you will be gone so soon.”

I felt two warm points on my cheeks, though I had drunk nothing. It was the crowd and the occasion making me sensitive, I saw. “Yes. You may trust that. You Whose Love Touches All.... that’s the most beautiful you-whose I’ve ever heard. Whoever wins, you’ve got to share it with.”

“I will. It’s part of the office, really, isn’t it? To do the Divine touch?”

It was always striking, to hear an Arkan express an understanding I had thought only Yeolis had. Suddenly I had a pang that he was not in the running. Thanks to Yeolis. “Yes,” I said. I put out both my hands Yeoli-style, and he took them. “Good luck with everything, Mil. If you need anything I can do while I’m still here, let me know.”

“Oh?” The grin grew impish again. “I have only ever wanted one thing from you, really, Karas Raikas. Do you think you might actually deign to answer an invitation of mine, if I send you one?”

“Yes,” I said, laughing. “I will most certainly do that. And I’ll answer it ‘Yes.’”

He threw out his arms expansively. “Wonderful! It will be the party of the Present Age, I assure you!” He was a man returned to his element, at home and happy.

It was half-dark now, the torches all lit. Now the beacons were lit too; as they were aimed at the flags, lighting them like coloured flames against the dark cliff, the crowd roared again. Adamas’s flag was up half a flag-width from Minis’s and Kallijas’, and in the square his followers were dominating in their chants and songs, thrilled.

Minis was eating himself from within, I could see. Kall was next to him now, talking gently as I came close. Minis looked off into the crowd where a fight had started, and said between his teeth, “This is worse than the Mezem.”

“At least no one’s going to die,” I said, realizing my error an eye-blink too late. Minis stared at me, horrified, Kallijas confused.

“Minis, I’m sorry… I meant…” All-Spirit, I thought; I so rarely make gaffes any more, I’m rusty at squirming out of them. “In truth, no one need die, no matter who wins. Your mother might swear to Adamas, in the end.” Too cursed thin an argument; he cast his eyes downward. I said the only other thing I could think of. “It also might be foreknowledge that made me say that. It sometimes expresses itself in clumsy ways.”

“I can hope so,” he said, though he also flashed a meaningful glance up at the flags.

“Lad, go for a swim,” I said. “You don’t have to be here, and the count won’t go any differently depending on whether you are. They’re counting out of city now”—I’d caught a town name on a packet as I’d wandered past the counting-desks—“so it may be that when you come back from swimming off the fear, you’ll be ahead.”

“I… I… don’t know,” he said, so quietly I was reading his lips more than hearing.

“Shefen-kas!” a writer cut in. “With Adamas winning, are you concerned about the implications of Imperial Compartment Verbal 14 Segment 8 with regard to those who have run whom you count as your friends?” He’d get the jump on the others in case Adamas won in the end, he was thinking.

“I’ll go swim,” Minis breathed, and was gone, even as I was answering, “No, of course not! I am absolutely not concerned, because Adamas hasn’t won yet!” Just then the flags were raised, but they seemed to go up absolutely evenly, Adamas’s lead sustaining. The sky darkened.