“In fact, sirs, I only know that Moa’qi has a reason. I do not know the reason as he would not tell me. He did explain that it would make sense at the end of the day.”
The next Muktai in order addressed him, “Sylk, why did you accept the nomination?”
“Sirs, the answer to that is very like the first.”
The next Muktai actually stood and asked, “Sylk, do you expect to be elected?”
“Sirs, I do not expect to be elected. In point of fact, I think that would be a grave mistake. I have no credibility, and there would be chaos.”
The next Muktai passed on his question, as did the next. The sixth then addressed Sylk, “Sylk, you are talented and wise. One day you will be First Chair. I foresee this. If, that is, you remain with The Tribe. That eventuality is not seen in my cards.” Mumbling low to himself he added, “Which means that you exercise considerable control over your destiny.” Louder and to the room as a whole, he added, “Today, you are not elected. Return to the crowd.” The seventh and final Muktai simply stood, and began the procession out into the main room.
Sylk followed, and kept walking past the remainder of the nominees, and into the crowd. Nodding to his mother, he kept on going out one of the entrances. He wanted to find Moa’qi, have a word, and be back in time for to witness who was among the final for the vote. Each nominee would be questioned in turn. If any one of The Muktai felt they had potential, they would return to their seats, and await either more questioning, or the actual vote. Each round of questioning could result in a narrowing of the field. Sylk felt he had plenty of time, as he perceived at least two legitimate possible First Chairs, and at least one, maybe two wild cards. Homing in on his Mentor, he broke into a trot, full of questions.
As he went running, he detected that Moa’qi went running also, but away from him! Sylk stopped, and Moa’qi stopped. Sylk started again, and Moa’qi walked away as well. Sylk angled to intercept, and his Mentor changed course to avoid. Stopping again, this time his Mentor kept walking, but in no hurry, and sort of randomly. Sylk squatted and attempted to decipher what was happening. His Mentor must know he was trying to meet him. He could read the sign better than Sylk could. It could not be happenstance that he had maintained the same distance from him for the last several moments. Tardily he came to the realization that Moa’qi did not want to meet with him at this moment. He stood and turned back toward the Deciding Hut. He would watch the selection continue, and trust to Moa’qi to contact him when it was time.
After the first few steps, he realized that Moa’qi was shadowing him back to the Hut. Evidently his Mentor wanted to remain close, but not too close. This relieved Sylk somewhat, and so he focused his attention on the Deciding Hut, and by the time he could confirm with his eyes, he knew what progress had been made. As he entered the hut, he watched The Tanner meld into the crowd, and Vela Maker summoned to one of the rooms. The Herbalist was sitting on his stool. Buitre would be next, followed by Steropé and finally The Arbiter.
In Sylk’s estimation of things, The Herbalist was one wild card for First Chair and Steropé was the other possibility. True candidates he had decided were Buitre and The Arbiter. He watched as the Vela Maker returned after a brief moment, and entered the crowd. Buitre was summoned, and disappeared into an alcove with The Muktai. They stayed and stayed. A request for water was received and water was delivered. The crowd began to be restless, wondering why the delay. Buitre emerged at last, looking drawn. He took his stool, and Steropé was called. She disappeared into the next room, and was gone for approximately twice as long as what Sylk estimated his time had been. She also sat down and The Arbiter was called.
Unless something truly odd happened, Sylk reckoned that The Arbiter would join the other three, and then there may be a vote. Of course, The Muktai may choose to subject each to additional interviews.
The Arbiter emerged after only a few moments. This seemed odd, because he should be a prime candidate, and they should have a lot to ask of him. But, the Arbiter not only left the room, he walked past the other nominees, and left the Hut! The crowd was silenced until the Criers announced the news. A general sense of consternation pervaded the air of the Deciding Hut. The crowd was uneasy, and the folks outside were getting restless. Of the three candidates, there were those with strong objections to some or all.
Buitre was a solid member of the tribe, but it was acknowledged that he desired power. The Herbalist was simply not liked. Steropé was, well, a woman. The Tribe was a bit unnerved, having expected and been looking forward to Moa’qi and willing to fall back on The Arbiter. There seemed to be no consensus on the current nominees. It seemed that regardless of whom was picked, much of the Tribe would be unhappy.
The Muktai emerged from their room. Usually they all came out at the same time as the nominee, but the exit of The Arbiter had so distracted they crowd that they were unaware The Muktai had not emerged. This caused a nervous stir among the crowd. None of the older members could ever remember such a strange Deciding Hut. A lady to Sylk’s left commented, “How very very weird. Suppose The Herbalist is named First Chair. His first official act will be to decide on the conflict between The Herbalist and Gwadi! How is he going to do that?” There were murmurs of acknowledgment to this comment, and it traveled around the room, becoming such a prevalent topic that one of the Criers actually shouted it out to the crowd waiting outside.
“Silence!” Bellowed the Muktai on the far left. “The Arbiter has not been eliminated. He has asked for brief recess while he gathers some information he says The Muktai need for the decision process. When he returns, the selection process continues.” He sat amid sounds of dismay and disbelief. Many common proceedings were being set aside, or bent to what some felt were past the breaking point. The level of anxiety became palpable.
The Arbiter returned, carrying sheaves of parchment. He handed these to the Card Reader, and The Muktai, without the nominees, went to the middle alcove for conference.
They were gone a really long time.
more later!
For now, I am off to THE HUNT!!
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