If their social institutions were abhorrent, their unwritten constitution bordered upon the absurd. The absolutist monarchs of the ancient kingdoms of Amara looked with detestation at the Shazarian constitutional monarchy. Yet this was no time to demonstrate loathing of the upstart nation; condescension could wait until after Sixto had been defeated.
As the map of the Great Plain was being redrawn by a young Shazarian councillor, the ageing Shylonian king interrupted mid-speech to ask him his name. With a piercing glare and a haughty flick of his cloak, he retorted ‘Lord Ratilla, Shazarian Imperial Secretary, and who might you be?’ Behind the gasps of horror, the message was clear. It was Shazaria who now bestrode the Amaran world, henceforth the office of Shazarian minister now held greater prestige than even that of foreign monarchs. What became even clearer were the depths of Shazarian treachery. The impudent youth who stood before the kings of Amara stripping them of ancient provinces, was the same adolescent reputed to have delivered an eloquent speech which swayed the Shazarian councillors in favour of war.Had this been their intention all along?
The dressmakers have just arrived from Shylon; they are coming here to display their goods.’‘Really, that’s lovely.’‘I was wondering if I could have some money, please.’ ‘What’s the point in having your own money if you’re just going to spend mine?’ ‘Yeah, but the amount of dresses I’m planning to buy, I might not have enough.’ ‘Then buy an amount you can afford.’ Ratilla responded bearing an expression of incredulity. ‘Oh Rat.’ Tizi said as she pouted, conjuring a mournful expression. ‘I just want to look pretty, what will they say if the wife of the Imperial Chancellor is clothed in rags? I’m only trying to play my part as the wife of the great Ratilla.’ Tizi said, her eyes full of misery, as Ratilla shook his head and chuckled.
Educated and ambitious, with their own forthright opinions, the women of the Garvey set did more to determine political direction than many councillors. Their involvement in public life and political machinations was such that the Shylonian ambassador was able to report, to his monarch, that the women of the Garvey clique were ‘politicians first, homemakers second.
The cold surface somehow enabled him to remain calm; he kept his eyes upon the summit, awaiting the arrival of reinforcements. The pace of his breathing remained steady, as did his pulse; it was in such moments men came of age; ‘the night is ours, the night is ours’, Jelani whispered.
Yet Theo had become engrossed in his own tale, transporting himself back to the night of which he spoke. In the distance, he could again see the faces he had encountered on that fateful night, the twisted bodies and pained expressions of the men who no longer walked the realms of men, but those of the underworld gods.