‘Stop fussing over the seating plan’ said Gwyneth, glaring at her sister as she entered the hall.
Bronwyn put her sheet of paper down on the
long table and looked up. She was surprised and not particularly pleased to see
her twin. Gwyneth walked over to join her and Bronwyn wondered briefly where
she might slip the paper to hide it, but there was nowhere.
At first glance the two women were identical,
their bright red hair even cut in approximately the same style, but if anyone observed
them even for a few seconds they could never be mistaken for each other again.
They were standing in a forest glade, a part
of the woods that had been gently coerced into growing its trees into a vast
tunnel of interlocking branches. The canopy vault was made up of the three
species of evergreen oak, the green, the brown and the purple, that formed the
majority of the trees in the north west of Eth. They were perfect for the task
of providing a suitable council chamber for the Hybitor, although it could be a
little chilly in the winter.
‘That’s what we have Laurence for’ continued
Gwyneth, ‘to worry about all of that’
Bronwyn nodded, a little sadly
‘I really don’t mind helping him…’ she said,
‘Is he here yet?’
Gwyneth nodded dismissively and made a
grumbling noise. She walked over to the table and picked up the plan.
‘Everyone just sits where they feel like
anyway’
‘True, I suppose, but it’s nice to have at
least given it some thought’
Gwyneth picked up Bronwyn’s quill and
scribbled rapidly on the paper. She dropped the sheet back on the table.
Bronwyn’s heart sank.
‘There are only two rules, Bron: annoy Celia
and Owen by putting them at opposite ends of the table, and sit the two old
fogies together so that they can reminisce quietly without disrupting everyone
else’
‘You’re cruel, sister’ said Bronwyn, making a
face.
Gwyneth ignored this.
‘If you want to do something useful, dear
sister – go and find Laurence. Where’s he got to anyway? I want to go through
the menus with him. That’s where a council meeting can stand or fall – by what
you put into their stomachs’
‘I’ll go and see. I want to congratulate him
on the White Cloak thing…’
Bronwyn hurried out into the main, built,
part of the complex, which connected directly to the wooded council chamber.
This was made up of a series of low grey stone buildings covered in ivy,
honeysuckle and other creepers. Sometimes it was hard to find the doors among
all the foliage.
Halfway down the corridor Bronwyn met
Hardacre walking briskly in the opposite direction, towards the council
chamber. He had two young men and a young woman with him. He was talking
rapidly, explaining in precise detail what he expected from each of them. He
stopped immediately when he saw Bronwyn.
‘Miss Preece’ he said, bowing his head
slightly as he approached her, ‘I trust that all is going to plan?’
Bronwyn, unable to conceal her delight in
seeing him in her house, alive and well, ran over to embrace him. It was only
halfway through the process that she remembered what he was like and by then
she was too far into the hug to abort it. She had had to close her eyes so as
not to see, for too long, his look of horror as she bore down on him.
He separated from her rapidly, looking
unusually flustered. She laughed very quietly and then forgot that she hadn’t
answered his question.
‘I have the seating diagram….’ she blurted
out. This was the last thing that she wanted to discuss.
Hardacre raised his eyebrows.
‘Well, councillor, that is certainly a small
but undoubtedly significant start. May I see it?’
Bronwyn passed it over to him with some
relief. Hardacre scanned it. A momentary scowl passed over his face.
‘Has your sister annotated this?’
Bronwyn nodded and smiled wanly. She lowered
her head slightly.
‘I thought we had an agreement, Miss Preece…’
‘I’m really sorry, Laurence. I thought she
was in the guest quarters and then she appeared in the chamber completely unexpectedly.
I had nowhere to hide it’
Hardacre shook his head, folded the plan, and
put it into his pocket.
‘This will take some time to sort out. We
can’t possibly have Mr Floyd and Miss Franklyn seated apart and we really don’t
want to put Mr Buckwhistle and Mr Blackwood together, do we. This whole plan
seems to me to be potentially problematic’
Bronwyn agreed with Hardacre, but felt her
loyalties being divided. It was time to change the subject.
‘Congratulations, by the way’, she said
Hardacre looked baffled.
‘For what you achieved with John and the
others in Melloreis. Excellent work…’
Hardacre looked even more uncertain.
‘The whole thing was a total mess’ he said,
‘we were very lucky to escape with only a single loss of life. All very
disappointing’
It was Bronwyn’s turn to be taken aback. She
studied Hardacre’s face. How could he feel like this? Against the odds they had
defeated Whitecloak, one of the most powerful of the enemies of the civilised
world. Hardacre had led the explorers for most of the time and had been
exceptionally brave and resourceful.
This wasn’t the response from him that she had expected at all. And now
she couldn’t really think of anything else to say.
Fortunately they were interrupted by one of
the young people who were with Hardacre.
‘Should we be getting on, Mr Hardacre?’ he
asked, eagerly.
Hardacre nodded and made to move away again
towards the council chambers.
‘No point in dwelling over our past mistakes,
I suppose’ he said to no-one in particular, ‘because thankfully one is always
presented with an opportunity to begin again and to try to make amends’
It was only now that Bronwyn realised that
Hardacre’s helpers had shears, secateurs and rakes with them. Hardacre bowed
politely to her and strode on with his little group. He addressed them briskly.
‘And let’s start by tidying up all that
foliage, shall we?’
1 Neman Forest – a large evergreen forested area in northern Eth, making up the majority of the county of Neman, the least populated area in Eth.
