Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [174]
"Your alternative?"
"A two-year term for each councillor, followed by two years in which the same woman or man could not serve. Every two years each councillor can nominate one candidate for the council, each local lord of the realm can nominate one candidate, I nominate one, the Lord Sages Alaphondar and Dimswart each nominate one, and each living member of the immediate Obarskyr family who is able, or of age, to speak for herself can nominate one candidate each. A simple majority-not a two-thirds count-will serve to appoint a candidate to the council."
Aunadar's eyes narrowed. "What if we vote in more than a dozen councillors?"
"Then the council grows, at least temporarily."
"And if less than a dozen can be agreed upon?"
"Then I shall name one person to the council, the Marshal of the Realm or senior officer of the Purple Dragons will name one, the two sages will each name one, the Obarskyrs will each name one, and so on, until we have our dozen-or more. These namings would be binding appointments, not one-man, one-vote proposals, and the only beings in all Faerun who could refuse them would be the named candidates themselves."
"While the council sits powerless? That's hardly fair."
"Ah, but knowing that such a fate awaits the realm, the council will have to agree on some candidates rather than simply refusing everyone proposed as their successors."
"And if they refuse?"
Vangerdahast shrugged. "Then I ignore them, and their vetoes fail-as they will in any case whenever I resign my regency and an Obarskyr takes the throne."
"Need our ruler be an Obarskyr?"
The wizard shrugged. "If you want to remain in the Forest Country technically the answer must be yes. The original elves who kept this land and entrusted it to the Obarskyrs might take a dim view of other hands being found at the helm."
Aunadar sneered. "Spare me the fairy tales, mage! Keep to the serious! Are you telling me that after all these years, the elves would return and press a claim against a land we've ruled for thirteen centuries?"
Vangerdahast did not answer, but instead let the question hang in the air for a long moment. The point had been made. Aunadar did not know if the old wizard was telling the truth. Indeed, there was much the young Bleth did not know.
The noble looked deeply into the hearth, then turned with the agile grace already displayed on many a dance floor. "Let us agree-for the moment, as an abstract point of debate-that we accept your view of council servitude and powers and your contention that one of Obarskyr blood must lead us." He smiled softly and turned to fix the mage with a steady, searching gaze. "Tell me, then, is one born directly from the seed of an Obarskyr king not of Obarskyr blood?"
"You speak in this case of the many King Azoun has fathered, or is rumored to have fathered," Vangerdahast said calmly. "Yes, they are of Obarskyr blood and stand in precedence ranked by senior birtbdate, behind all of the pure House of Obarskyr. If I, the sages, the wizardess Laspeera, and the major priests of the realm agreed to by us and the High Heralds we shall call in-if such a determination ever becomes necessary, and not before then-can all agree on the lineage of each bastard candidate. We alone shall investigate such claims, not a whispering cabal of nobles, and I warn you, young Lord Bleth, that if we are ever forced to mount such an indelicate investigation, we shall thoroughly delve into, bring to light, and proclaim throughout the realm every illicit birth connected to every noble house in the land." The Royal Magician smiled faintly. "Nary an escutcheon shall remain unblotted, to quote the old saying."
Aunadar made a gesture of uncaring dismissal. "Fair enough. Who, in your view, is to name our first council?"
Vangerdahast replied promptly. "I could ask nobles to nominate themselves and put them to a test. Those who pass are councillors, those who fail will be dead."
"A test," Aunadar said darkly. "A dangerous quest, no doubt? Or face-to-face personal spell duels