Thunderhead (Arc of a Scythe #2)(119)

“Does the council doubt my word, your Supreme Excellency?” Goddard asked.

Cromwell spoke from behind him. “You are not known for your honesty, Scythe Goddard. Out of respect, we won’t challenge your account of things, but we would have preferred to have overseen the selection.”

And then Grandslayer Nzinga, from their right, spoke up. “It’s actually not Goddard’s word we need to rely on here,” she pointed out. “The subject was gleaned by Scythe Rand before Goddard was restored. So tell us, Scythe Rand, we wish to hear it from you. Was the body-donor a volunteer, fully aware of what was to become of him?”

Rand hesitated.

“Scythe Rand?”

“Yes,” she finally said. “Yes, of course he was aware. How could it be any other way? We’re scythes, we’re not in the business of body-snatching.” And then she added, “I would rather self-glean than do something so . . . so unkind.”

But even so, she stumbled and choked a bit on her words. Whether the council noticed, or even cared, they didn’t let on.

“Scythe Anastasia!” said the Supreme Blade. “Please step forward.”

Rand retreated to Goddard, and Anastasia did as she was told.

“Scythe Anastasia, this inquest is very clearly a manipulation of our rules to influence the outcome of the vote.”

“Here, here!” said Grandslayer Hideyoshi, voicing his adamant disapproval of what Anastasia had done.

“We on the council,” continued the Supreme Blade, “feel that it dances dangerously close to the line of unethical behavior.”

“But it’s ethical to glean someone and take their body?” she blurted out. She just couldn’t help herself.

“You,” shouted Grandslayer Hideyoshi, “are here to listen, not to speak!”

Supreme Blade Kahlo put up her hand to calm him, then addressed Anastasia sternly. “You would be wise to learn how to control your temper, junior scythe.”

“I’m sorry, ?Your Exalted Excellency.”

“I’ll accept that—but this council will not accept your next apology, is that understood?”

Anastasia nodded, then bowed her head respectfully and returned to Scythe Curie, who gave her a stern gaze, but only for a moment.

“Scythe Goddard!” called out Kahlo.

Goddard stepped forward, awaiting judgment.

“While we all agree that this inquest had ulterior motives, the points it brings up are valid. When is a scythe a scythe?” She took a very long pause then. Long enough for the void to feel uncomfortable, but everyone knew enough not to speak in the silence. “There was heated debate on the matter,” she finally said, “and in the end, the council has concluded that replacement of more than fifty percent of one’s physical body by the physical body of another severely diminishes that person.”

Anastasia found herself holding her breath.

“Therefore,” continued the Supreme Blade, “while we give you permission to call yourself Scythe Robert Goddard, you may not glean until such time as the rest of you finishes a full apprenticeship under the scythe of your choice. I assume you will apprentice under Scythe Rand, but if you choose another—and that scythe agrees—it will be acceptable.”

“Apprenticeship?” said Goddard, not even trying to hide his disgust. “I must now be an apprentice? Is it not enough that I’ve suffered all I’ve suffered? Must I now be subjected to humiliation, as well?”

“See this as an opportunity, Robert,” said Cromwell with a slight grin. “For all we know, in a year your lower parts may convince the rest of you that you’d prefer to be a party boy. Wasn’t that the profession of your subject?”

Goddard couldn’t hide his shock.

“Don’t be so surprised that we know the identity of your subject, Robert,” continued Cromwell. “Once you resurfaced, we did our own due diligence.”

Goddard now seemed a volcano ready to erupt, but somehow managed not to.

“Honorable Scythe Curie,” said the Supreme Blade, “as Scythe Goddard has been deemed ineligible for full scythedom at this time, his candidacy is moot. That being the case, it leaves you as the only viable candidate, and so you automatically win the bid for High Blade of MidMerica.”

Scythe Curie reacted with reserved humility. “Thank you, Supreme Blade Kahlo.”

“You’re welcome, ?Your Excellency.”

Your Excellency, thought Anastasia. She wondered what it must be like for Marie to be called that by the Supreme Blade!

But Goddard was not willing to admit defeat without a fight. “I demand a roll call!” he insisted. “I wish to know who cast the votes in favor of this travesty, and who voted on the side of sanity!”

The Grandslayers looked to one another. Finally Grandslayer MacKillop spoke. She had been the quietest of all of them, having said nothing throughout the inquest. “That really won’t be necessary,” she said in a voice that was gentle and soothing—but Goddard was not soothed.

“Not necessary? Are you all going to hide behind the anonymity of the council?”

It was the Supreme Blade who spoke now. “What Grandslayer MacKillop means,” she said, “is that there’s no need for a roll call . . . because the vote was unanimous.”