“The Naaduir are allowed their consorts. You’ll enjoy it.” Wrath’s smile was knowing.
“Will this be our last meeting?”
The god shrugged, sending another screaming skull tumbling within his black hair into the pool of blood. “I don’t get much conversation. You’ll do.” His heavy, clawed hand struck Kadra’s shoulder in brief parting before the god winked out of existence.
Kadra warily surveyed the gate to his tower and exhaled to find it in one piece. Smiling, he entered his home, Wrath’s chuckle still ringing in his ears.
Fifth day of the Month of Moons, Spring Equinox
Rebuilding a country could be a thankless endeavor at times, Kadra mused after a second round of Guild elections.
The past week had seen an exacting inquiry into Guild practices and accounting. Several Guildmasters had subsequently been forced to step down for assorted crimes. The subsequent intra-Guild elections were a logistical nightmare given the Tetrarchy’s final mandates that Guilds supplying a resource that was primarily sourced from the north had to be comprised of a majority of northerners. He wasn’t fond of supervising them, but north-south relations weren’t yet improved to the point where he could let the parties negotiate on their own. Some would see that they had more in common than they didn’t. Some wouldn’t. Life went on.
The Tetrarchy hadn’t.
He dismounted outside Aoran Tower, pace quickening as he unlocked the gates, knowing that she was home.
“Good evening, Councilor Kadra,” a student passing by squeaked.
He inclined his head. “Good evening.”
The two girls exchanged startled glances for a fraction of a second and scurried off.
“He’s scary!” he heard them whisper when they thought they were out of earshot.
He was still fearsome, it seemed.
“Scary,” Sarai repeated with amusement when he entered. “Quite the reputation, Councilor Kadra.”
He pulled the gates shut behind him and lifted her into his arms. “Good evening, love.”
She kissed him sweetly. “Long day?”
“The Guilds are imploding,” he said dryly. “How was Noceo’s trial?”
There would have been voices on the new Council of Ur Dinyé to see that justice was done.
Cassandane’s final act as Head Tetrarch had been to dissolve the Tetrarchy in favor of a council that represented north and south interests. What had followed had been the fastest election period Kadra had witnessed. The people had known who they had wanted. Bridgers had facilitated easy access to ballots, and Harion had nearly given himself an aneurysm by campaigning in every town and village across Ur Dinyé. He had been elected, to Kadra’s immense displeasure, which had firmed his resolve to improve wide-scale electoral education. The people simply shouldn’t be electing fools.
Kadra had retained his former seat, as had Cassandane as Head Councilor of the South. Florus was a welcome addition as Head Councilor of the North in addition to a Praetor and a military Tribune. And the northern vigiles were finally allowing women and neutralii in like their southern counterparts.
“The Council was unanimous on the mines being the best course,” Sarai said as they entered his study.
He nodded. “Duration?”
“The Council agreed that it’ll take a great deal to blot out all the harm he’s done.” A sad smile bloomed on Sarai’s face. “Twenty-five years.”
A fair ending. “He has a long road ahead.”
“So do we.”
He raised an inquiring brow, shrugging off his robes.
“I have plans,” she informed him.
“Is that right?” He stalked toward her.
“We have to travel, Kadra. It’s simply nonnegotiable.” She perched atop his desk, grinning when he caged her. “We’re both far too entrenched in work. It isn’t sustainable, and—”
