At last, there comes some sort of triggering incident, perhaps a riot or
some sort of panic in the market. To help settle things down, Thrand announces
that he is ready to nominate the new King. He is not really ready, but he feels
he has to do something and maybe setting a deadline will help him decide.
To that end the Examination Test is called to order. This is a three-day
process whereby a designated group tests and observes Thrand himself, to ensure
that he is sane and competent. This group consists of at least four Life
Witnesses (probably the same that attested to Taryn’s death), a select group of
Thrand’s fellow Judges, and the Heads of the largest Noble Houses (accompanied
by their Senior Madras). During this period, they may ask him questions and
pose various simple trials to assess his basic fitness. Nothing that bears
directly on the question of who is to be King; this is about the High Justice
himself.
When they all are done each of the group must swear (in writing) an
attestation to Thrand’s competency. This is to avoid any quarrels or quibbles
that could delay the process any further once he has made his decision. At the
end of the third day Thrand explains to Kettil that the High Justice’s decision
could then only be turned aside if he made some sort of gross announcement,
like handing the throne to an Ogre or, in the old days, a threatening power
like the Dark Lord himself. He chuckles grimly at the thought. He hopes he’s
not that obtuse yet.
Kettil looks troubled at that. It’s time for the young Morg to make a
revelation now, lest the revelation later become a cause for questioning
Thrand’s decision. It’s not really the Judge’s fault; he made an assumption and
Kettil chose never to correct him. The fact is, Kettil is a girl.
Thrand is dumbfounded. Kettil quickly explains that she was never sure how
long she could keep it up, whether she would be found out or simply quit after
the year was over. But the fact is, there was no stipulation as to her sex in
the Articles she signed, and some furtive research made it sure that there was
no Law positively forbidding it. She has come to the conclusion that she really
wants a career in the law, but now knows it cannot be founded on a secret. And
she does not want to draw any obloquy to the older Morg’s ruling if and when it
comes out, as she feels it surely must. Kettil anxiously watches Thrand’s
stunned face.
Thrand bursts out laughing. It’s a good joke on him and takes him down a
peg. Kettil is right, of course, there is no law against it, only custom. It
also resets his clock a bit and makes him realize he might have been allowing
unconscious assumptions to affect his judgement, even as to the kingship. It
suddenly makes his decision on the morrow all the clearer. In the meantime,
Kettil needs to bring him certain volumes from the Law Library. He will prepare
an airtight case overnight allowing Kettil’s apprenticeship. Should he announce
it before or after the kingship? Perhaps after would be best, so as not to
muddy the waters. But it will be waiting, and, he feels sure, fireproof.
The next day dawns, and the court is convened. The Examiners sign their
attestations. Heralds are standing by to announce Thrand’s decision; it will go
into effect immediately. Thrand is sitting in the judgement seat, the Crownhelm
gleaming in his lap. His knobby old fingers caress the cold metal. Excitement
is rife. The new King is bound to be in the crowd.
At the stroke of ten from the White Tower, Thrand starts speaking. He draws
it out a little, relishing the attention and the tension. He goes over all the
candidates one by one, including Roth and Trallin and Krod (these three will be
most emphasized, as they are the ones I’ve mentioned). Then, he comes to the
summing up.
None of these will be the new King. Instead, he chooses Varnik to be the
second human King of Morg City. Varnik has shown that he has the kingdom’s
best interests at heart, he’s the son of the beloved Taryn, and anyway, as a
human he won’t last as long as a Morg so if he does turn out to be a dud he’ll
be replaced sooner (he might not say this last part aloud).
Consternation, uproar! But as the news speeds away from the chamber and
bells start to ring, the court grows more and more reconciled to the idea. The
Metarlin (human) faction will have to be satisfied that one (junior) son of
Taryn will have the throne. Trallin will return to his estates in Metarlin, to
plot for regency there; he certainly won’t remain to be ruled over by his
younger brother. He will be joined by Innia who must be satisfied that one of
her sons is King, though he seems to have no dynastic ambitions. The Morgish
faction, who have had no strong horse in the race, get settled to follow the inertia
of the status quo. In the meantime, the Houses have plenty of time to prepare
better candidates. What’s fifty years or so to a Morg? The Life Witnesses bear
Varnik and the crown away to the formal coronation.
The crowd drains away, leaving the law court personnel waiting on Thrand to
dismiss them. The old Judge clears his throat. Now that that little piece of
business is cleared away, he declares, I have another decision to place before
you. One that may even be more far-reaching than the one I’ve already made
today. Kettil comes to stand at his side. Thrand unrolls the document he
prepared last night and starts to read out loud.
Thuh End. The rest is just scribbling and bibbling.
Notes
Well. This ‘finishes’ the story I began almost two years ago. I really had
almost only the barest idea what it would be about when I started; each step forward was like
putting a foot out in the dark on a staircase I wasn’t entirely sure was there,
trying to get to the top of a tower. After
a little rest I should go back and flesh it out.
Kettil was known from the very first to be a girl Morg, and I went to some
pains that, no matter how often the characters referred to ‘him’, I as narrator
never did. She was young enough that she could still pass as a fella with a
rather scant ‘beard’. I’m sure that Morg society will accept her with a certain
amount of grumbling and gossip, but I wonder if many other females will follow
her example. To the madras it would seem to be a step down into servitude and
to the males it would seem like poaching onto their preserve. Kettil wouldn’t
give a hoot; she enjoys it and with Thrand’s training becomes a very subtle and
clear-sighted Judge.
With a little care, Thrand lives to a goodly age if not the longest a Morg can reach. He’s still alive when Varnik passes away, but he has retired, and another Chief Justice chooses the next King. Who that will be I have no idea, though I feel it will be another Morg by then. Who can say? Maybe Roth’s son, maybe an entirely new character. The future is wide open.
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