The Great Election

By: Heidi L. Lane

 

January 1891

 

“Expecting trouble, Blaize?” Merlin asked, just before the entered the Great Hall.  The Lord Elder looked nervous, which was unlike the usually calm sorcerer.

“I hope Phillip does as he promised.  We need someone to run against Darren, Merlin,” The Lord Elder fiddled with the hem of his formal robe.  “I have a feeling that Ulliam is going to do something unnecessary also.”

“Only unnecessary in our eyes, Blaize,” Merlin said, glancing at their colleague who hadn’t yet joined them at the door.  “He can’t abide warlocks.  You knew that when you proposed Phillip as your successor.”

“Phillip’s a good man.  He’s honest –”

“To a fault,” Merlin agreed.

Blaize nodded and continued, “He’s fair-minded and… well, I just feel something about him.”

Merlin nodded in agreement and said, “Let’s go; they’re waiting.  Ulliam, coming?”  The conjuror nodded and joined them.  Frowning, he took his usual place between Blaize and Merlin.  “Deep in thought, Ull?”

“It’s not that I think Darren should be on the Tribunal.  He’s barely a good mage; certainly not a good man.  But… a warlock?”  He shook his head.

“Well, let’s go,” Blaize interrupted him.

 

Phillip looked around the crowded Great Hall.  He scurried between the taller mages all around as he made his way to his seat, towards the front.  He got there just as the Tribunal members were entering through a side door and taking the dais.  Sighing, Phillip sat and looked down, thinking about what he knew was going to happen.

“First order of business: the election,” Lord Elder Blaize stated from the podium.  “The first election will be for the position of representative from the sorcerers, warlocks and wizards– ”

“You,” a sorcerer said from the crowd.

Chuckling, Blaize looked down and said, “This is the end of my second term as Lord Elder and the end of my fourth term as a member of the Tribunal.  I think that in the last 400 years I’ve served my time.  I’ve decided to retire and return to my studies.”  There was a collective sigh from many mages in the room.  Lord Blaize was a well-loved Elder, considered to be the best mage in that position since it was created and held by Lord Math.  “Are there any who wish to be nominated for this position?”

“I, Master Darren,” a wizard said standing.  “I wish to carry on your work, my Lord.”  Many of the warlocks in the room began mumbling amongst themselves.  “I will continue in the good work of bringing mages to the side of light,” Darren continued.

“Thank you,” Blaize said.  Looking towards the section where the warlocks and witches sat, he tried to find Phillip.  Would the little mage take up the challenge?

“I would – I – I wish to run, m’Lord, um, Master Teacher Phillip,” came a soft voice from near the wall on the farthest end of the warlock section.  There was a great deal of chatter that followed the announcement.

“Silence,” Merlin said, standing, as he realized that the little warlock would never be heard over the noise of the crowd.  A hush fell over the hall.

“Thank – Thank you, Master Merlin,” Phillip said, standing on his chair in order to be seen by more people in the hall.  “I – I too would continue the good work of bringing mages towards the side of light, gently.  A good person doesn’t lead by threats, but - but by example.”

“The example of a warlock?” Master Darren sneered.

“Well…” Phillip looked down, collecting his thoughts, “I don’t pretend to be the most eloquent person but… In the last two terms that Lord Blaize has been Elder of the Tribunal of this good mages council, warlocks like myself have made some headway against the prejudice that chased us after we began turning from the dark to the light.  With all due respect, I fear, and others here agree, that if the wrong person is elected to this position, then we could return to a time of persecutions against warlocks.  Most warlocks are good mages now, and have been for many years.  I, myself, have always been a good mage, as was my father before me.  But it’s a shame that my people have never had much of a voice in this council.  I would, if elected, try to give everyone a voice in the council, equally.”  Blinking, slightly startled by his own audacity, Phillip stepped down off the chair.

“Well, anyone else have something to say?” Merlin asked.  When the room remained silent, he nodded and said, “Let’s vote then.  The ballots from those currently represented by Lord Blaize will be counted while we determine who will represent the conjurors and other forest mages.  Are there any who wish to run for this position.”  He looked back at his colleague, who sat quietly.

“I will, Master Alaric,” a voice said from the conjurors section.

Merlin looked over to find a very tall mage in pale gold robes standing.  “Have you anything to say in favor of yourself?” he asked.  The mage shook his head.  “Well than, would anyone else wish to run for the position for representative from the forest mages?” he again looked back at his colleague.  This time the man shook his head.  “So be it,” Merlin said softly.  “The ballots from those currently represented by Master Ulliam will be counted while we determine who will represent the magicians and other mixed mages.  Are there any who wish to run for this position?”  The room was silent.  “Well, thanks for that rousing endorsement.  By your leave I shall run for the position that I currently hold.”  Cheers from the assembled mages met this announcement.  “As member of the Tribunal with the longest term in office I would act as the Lord Elder, any opposed?”  Again silence met the question.  “Very well then and I see our ballots are counted.  The representative from the sorcerers, warlocks, witches and wizards is…” Merlin opened the envelope.  “Master Teacher Phillip, with only two votes against.  Well then, please come forward, Master Phillip Long-blade.”  He waited until the smaller mage was before him and said, “Please kneel.”  The warlock knelt down and placed his hands between Merlin’s.  The magician was shocked by just how small those hands were and barely noticed that Phillip winced.  Figuring it was just nerves he continued with the ceremony that would appoint the mage officially to the Tribunal, ”Master Teacher Phillip Long-blade, you have been duly elected to a position on the Tribunal of the Good Mages Council.  Do you swear that you will do all in your power to protect those who cannot protect themselves, ensure the goodly use of magic gifts and bring mages towards the light?”

“I do,” Phillip said, his voice shaking.  Merlin noticed that the little mage’s eyes were narrowed in pain and wondered what was wrong with him.

“Do you swear to fight against the darkness in whatever form it presents itself?”

“I do,” he repeated.  Merlin raised him to his feet and took the pin that Blaize handed him, reaching over to pin it onto Phillip’s cape over the ties that held it on.

Noticing the smaller man was shaking, Merlin asked, “Are you alright.”

“Fine,” Phillip breathed in reply.  “You have sweaty palms,” he explained.

Shrugging Merlin turned his attention to the other envelope and reading it said, “The representative from the forest mages is Master Alaric Miralbraken, with 93 votes against.”  He repeated the process he’d performed on Phillip with the tall conjuror and turning towards the two members who were now to leave the Tribunal, said, “Master Blaize, Master Ulliam, we thank you for your years of dedicated service.  Know that the doors of the Crystal Palace are always open to you.”  The two older mages nodded and stepped down from the dais.  “Is there any other business?” Merlin asked the assembled mages.  When none spoke he said, “I’ll entertain a motion to adjourn.”  Several hands went up and, spotting two mages he recognized Merlin said, “Motion made by Mistress Pol and seconded by Master Peral, having no further business, this meeting is adjourned.”

As the crowd began to disperse, Alaric looked over at Plillip and said, “Your hands!”

“Lord Merlin has sweaty palms,” he explained.  “I need to go wash my hands and put a salve on them, before they get worse.”

“What’s wrong?  What do my sweaty palms have to do with… that?” Merlin asked as he led the way to the back room where the Tribunal met in privacy.

“Salt,” Phillip said succinctly.

“Who didn’t vote for you?” Alaric asked as Phillip went to wash his hands.  “Obviously, Master Darren himself, but who else?  Does he have any family?”

“No, he –” Merlin started.

“I did,” Phillip said.

“You did… what?” Alaric asked.

“I was the other person who voted for Master Darren,” he replied, patting his hands dry carefully and taking out some salve from his belt pouch.

“Why?  You surely didn’t want him to win,” Alaric asked.

“Well… it didn’t seem right to vote for myself and….”

“Next time, Phillip, abstain,” Merlin advised.  The younger mage nodded and scowled in thought.  “What’s wrong now?”

“I just realized something,” he replied.  “If you, that is when you retire I’ll be the one who’s been on the Tribunal longest.”  Merlin nodded.  “There’ve never been warlocks on the Tribunal at all and I’ve just been set up to be the Lord Elder after you!”  Merlin nodded again.  “I think that I’m feeling a little lightheaded,” Phillip said putting his hand up and sitting down heavily.  Merlin laughed outright and Alaric soon joined in chuckling.  Looking from one to the other and realizing that he’d been deftly played Phillip said, “Oh dear….”

 

Continued…

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