Strange Aeons [Book 1]

9. High Noon in Boston [part III]

You could feel the aura of annoyance seeping right through the door, as the tall figure came nearer. The soft tapping of his walking cane in perfect rhythm with his steps, clad by designer Italian shoes.

Nobody had to open the door for him. He passed right through it, as if it didn't exist at all. The soft talking that was going around the table of the Council suddenly stopped.

The room, this time, was a nice conference room in an old historical building in Norway. The cold was being kept outside by large double-glass windows, and the snow was falling softly over the small city under them. No outside noise was allowed in.  So, when the councillors stopped talking, the hush was complete.

«I believe my presence was requested.»

Algernon Leshrac didn't look particularly scary. He was a man in his late seventies, even if his body, kept on track by magic, sported the signs of the years without their merciless cruelty. His back was straight, his eyes as sharp as the darkest night, and the walking stick was merely a fancy addition to his perfectly lordly appearance. His Prince of Wales suit was of a soft smoky grey, and the intense red of his tie and pocket handkerchief was a violent spot of colour that almost hurt the eyes.

There was something around his figure that titillated the fight-or-flight instinct of the people around him.

«Head of the House, is always a pleasure and an honour.» Zachariah almost jumped to his feet and bent his back in a bow, which such a readiness that made Algernon's eyes glimmer with approval.

«Zachariah, my dear boy. It's nice to see you're still up and around.» his voice was a mellow symphony of half-whispered undertones. Zachariah sat down, his face slightly paler than before.

«My dear Algernon, we perfectly know you don't want to be here...» Angelina Casadei, Councilwoman of the Internal Diplomacy Division, stood up elegantly, as fast as her rounded body let her, her bright dark-brown eyes already glimmering with unease.

«You certainly didn't need to be Balakrishna to know something like that. Good evening, my dear fellow, by the way.» Algernon completely passed over the olive-skinned Italian woman to slightly bow his head towards the Indian man on the far side of the table. Reyansh Balakrishna, Councilman of the Diviner Division, slowly returned the gesture. «So, I just came to make sure you all agree that we can forget about this ridiculous shenanigan of Trial and focus on the more important matters at hand.» it wasn't even a question. It was a fact.

Viceroy stood up, slowly.

«We know you're a very busy man, Algernon. To look after such a... healthily manifold House such as yours must be a tiring task.» Viceroy's deep voice was slightly spotted with a deep French pronunciation he never seemed to have lost in the long years away from home. «Nonetheless, you're the Appointed Judge of the Order, and you know better than all that Order Law can't simply be dismissed as a whim.»

«Poppycock.» Algernon didn't even raise his voice. «You, better than anyone Viceroy, should know that Justin doesn't do anything but on a whim. And I'm far too old and, as you kindly pointed out, busy, to run after his every tantrum. I guessed everyone in this room would have easily taken Justin's new charade for what it is: a way to poke me after so many blissful months of peace.»

«We're sympathetic with your needs Algernon, but you swore to uphold Order Law, and that means presiding trials. It's true that there hasn't been one in ages, but that doesn't mean...» Shaquana Nzeogwu, Councilwoman of the Mage Academy Division, started talking. But someone put a badly cured and very cold hand on her mouth, freezing her every movement by pure fear.