Telis stretched his long legs out under the table. To him, the voting seemed unnecessarily prolonged and ritualistic, but he knew better than to voice opposition to customs that had been accepted in the Maldia since long before the Laurrs, the dictator-kings who took the name of the very planet for themselves, had driven the society underground.
The young warrior was forced to admit that ritual and trappings were an important part of the superstitious hold the Maldia had on the great masses of Laurr. And, with the populace cowed, anything was possible. Even the Laurr himself would not care to face the unanimous disapproval of this masked hierarchy. Too many Laurrs, down through the aeons of the planet's history, had fallen before the blades of Maldia assassins.
Telis watched the glittering eyes that peered out from behind the peaked mask that hid Prince Brand's handsome face. The mart knew he was defeated, and rage seemed to surround him like a malign auriole. Brand would never be satisfied with the deputy command that would be his for having been second in the balloting. The man wanted full authority, not command of troops in the field as Telis had had. Brand was far too concerned with his own safety for that; he wanted command of the striking force of assassins that would murder the handful of invaders out in the desert. The victory over a few scientists from another world would give Brand the renown he craved and at negligible risk, for all his dark talk about mystery weapons and his pleas for caution.
The only need for caution that Telis could see was the possible intervention of the Temple or the Laurr. And the Temple knew nothing. And the Laurr could be handled ... by Telis.
Telis looked around him, wishing the masked nobles would have done with it. It would not be a safe thing to have the Temple learn that the Maldia met in Telis' own palace quarters. He noted with satisfaction that the voting had ended.
The shrieking wind outside died suddenly, leaving a thick silence.
A black figure arose from either side of the table. The one on the right turned toward Telis, and its voice had a strange and disembodied timbre in the stillness.
"Telis of Lars," it said, "you lead."
Telis inclined his head in acceptance. Taciturnity was part of the ancient tradition of the Maldia.
The figure on the left turned toward Brand. "Brand, Prince of Laurr, you follow."