X. The Council

So it came to pass that Alexius became Axe of the People, elected leader of Sarfan and the beloved of all in the village.

His first action was to assemble a council of villagers whom he could trust, both for their loyalty and for their sage advice. Some time after the Night Siege (for by those days no more massive armies of zombies had dared to intrude on the village), he gathered all the villagers in the town square and, having sufficiently talked to enough of them to determine his best options, personally chose those who he deemed were the worthiest to advise and warn him.

He had chosen five positions on this council, five seats for those affairs which he deemed himself to need advice on: Agriculture, for the issue of supplying adequate food to the increasing population of Sarfan; Labor, for the issue of building up the village into greatness, which was even then Alexius's primary goal; Trade, for the issue of regulating emerald exchanges both within Sarfan as well as with neighboring villages; Diplomacy, for the issue of representing themselves to their neighbors and, should the matter arise, the Pillagers; and Defense, for the issue of protecting the village from undead and Pillager threats alike.

He warned the people of Sarfan that the members of this council would have no powers other than advising him, their chosen leader, and the people all graciously agreed to this. Many volunteered themselves to certain posts, and so great was the enthusiasm for this project that the Emperor was inundated with requests and applications. In the end, however, he did only choose five villagers.

To the post of Agriculture, he appointed Virod the Wheat-Farmer, who was knowledgable in producing various foodstuffs and growing crops efficiently. He was put in charge of managing food output, and, despite his de facto lack of authority, worked tirelessly to rally the farmers of the village into expanding their farms.

To the post of Labor, he appointed Arter the Mason, a hard-working and sturdy man who dealt in stone and bricks. With him, Alexius spent hours poring over plans for expanding the bounds of Sarfan, right up to the bank of the River Mer.

To the post of Trade, he appointed Hava Yal the Fletcher, who was famed for being canny with his customers and (it was whispered) with his emeralds as well. Immediately he began developing a plan for expanding protections of trade routes to Market Hane and the neighboring villages, which Alexius entertained with mild interest.

To the post of Diplomacy, he appointed Ramaf the Cartographer, who was knowledgable in many worldly matters and proved useful in navigating the politics of the neighboring villages—but this is a matter that was to happen much later.

And to the post of Defense, he appointed Spayer the Armorer, who was intimately familiar with warfare and the defense of the village. And he accepted this post with great grace and thankfulness, for he was eager, in truth, to protect his people.

Alexius sits on one of the smooth stone benches lightly, almost carefully. Outside he hears little Jacob Efel Yed and Cheni son of Maro play with the golem, laughing and shrieking, and he can't help but smile. He turns back to Spayer, who stares into the warm orange of the roaring blast furnace. It's been maybe ten days since the fourth moon, at least five days since he first came to the armorer's forge.

"I hope you have an answer for me today, Spayer," he says.

The armorer merely stares into the fires of his furnace. "You'd be better off without me," he mutters. His voice is low and his eyes are downcast.

Alexius sighs, hops off the bench and walks around the cramped space. It's a beautifully lazy afternoon, and the River Mer glistens in the brilliant sun. He looks outside a window and sees Arter the Mason carefully placing cobblestone blocks in neat squares, marking where the new houses should go. Breaking the silence, he says: "Can I ask why?"

Spayer sighs and looks up from the fires, and the corpse of a very small and fragile something is in his eyes. "I'm—I'm sorry I doubted, Alexius," he says carefully, hesitantly. He's holding something back. "I was wrong then. They—they chose you for a reason. You can—"

"That's not what I asked," Alexius says. He steps around and leans against the door, staring at this miserable villager. "I don't hate you for what you said. What happened happened and that's that. What I'm asking"—Alexius looks directly into Spayer's eyes—"is why you don't want to help me. Help us all."

The armorer looks back and his eyes are deep wells of sorrow. He struggles to hold his emotions down and he chokes on his words as he speaks. "You spoke to me once of Pillagers. You—you ever seen one before?"

Alexius shakes his head slowly. "I know they used to force tribute. Send patrols, too. But—"

"They burn, Alexius," Spayer says. He stands up from his furnace and his eyes shake. Alexius takes a step back as Spayer takes a deep breath.

"Maras," the armorer says, "dozens of moons ago. Small place in the north. I was selling and I had brought... I had brought my son with me." His voice trembles and he looks up to the ceiling before gathering himself and continuing.

"They always come at noon when—when everyone's in the market. I heard the horn and I tried to run. They rode into crowds. Three people next to me got shot and one—one of them I knew—he got trampled by a ravager. Trampled..." The armorer's voice is shaky as he tries to continue. "The parents tried to hide their kids beneath the beds. They closed the doors and prayed to—to Father Earth or the ancestors."

Spayer pauses and takes several trembling breaths. Alexius asks softly: "What happened to them?"

The armorer stares at him and looks back into the fires of his furnace. His back heaves and his breaths get faster. "I ran into the forest. Everyone was screaming, crying. I looked for—for Pauel—but I... I couldn't. I went back and it was all burning, all the houses and the tents..." Spayer tries to hold his voice in and it trembles more and gets louder, and his lip seems to shake and his eyes dance in misty tears. "I—I could—I couldn't—"

Spayer shakes and his words break into heaves. Alexius, unsure of what to do, awkwardly stands in the corner. He pats Spayer on the back and the forge is filled with a song of grief. Sunlight streams through the windows and he ruefully watches the sky outside: it feels wrong for a world to seem this beautiful. With each heave of the armorer's old frame a sword twists in Alexius's stomach. They are both linked for a second, tied in pain and sorrow.

At last Spayer breathes in a few quivering gulps of air and looks dejectedly at Alexius. "I—I failed," the armorer whispers. "I should—I could've..."

"You didn't fail," Alexius says sharply. "You didn't—look at me, Spayer, you did not fail, you understand? Hey, look at me." He forces the armorer to look into his eyes, and he sees that his eyes are still trembling. "Look—look over there," he says, and he points outside the window to the children playing with the golem. They are bathed in sunlight and their eyes have not a care in the world.

"I've seen your armor and your brother's tools," Alexius continues. "I mean, you've protected them so far, why not make it official?"

"I don't think I could—"

"Enough of that, man! I mean—look—you're saying that if you saw a Pillager over there by little Cheni right now, you'd let him be?"

Spayer whirls around at Alexius, eyes filled with sudden rage. "I'd gut that pig where he stood," he growls. "He couldn't cross the river before I got to him and—and erased him."

Good, Alexius thinks. And he says to the armorer, "So you'll protect him as your own son—and you've protected them all before. Then why won't you help me protect them?"

Spayer hesitates. "But—"

"No more buts," Alexius snaps. He's getting himself worked up now, but he knows he's taking Spayer along with him. "You say you'll protect Sarfan from the invaders. You're more than capable of it—and don't you dare call yourself a failure, Spayer, because if there's one thing I've seen about you, it's that you aren't one. Now will you help me protect Sarfan?" And, pointing outside again, he adds on impulse, "Don't they need you as much as they need me?"

Spayer stands up. "I'd protect them with my life," he says with a low voice. His words stop trembling and his body isn't slouched, but upright and proud, determined. There you are, Alexius thinks. And, carefully, he replies: "So would you help me do the same?"

Spayer hesitates. "I'll... I'll think about it," he says slowly. His pride is back but his mind is still uncertain, and his eyes are still unsure of himself. Alexius just smiles and stands up. No matter, a voice in his brain says, I already know what you are. "I'll give you some time," he replies, and opens the door. "Until tomorrow, then..." The blue sky greets him gently: another beautiful day of sun.

As Alexius steps out into the dusty street, he hears Spayer's voice again: "Ete sal, Alexius." And the Emperor-to-be smiles as he walks down the street. He doesn't need to wait for an answer. He knows what Spayer will say to him tomorrow.

I chose well, he thinks.