Chapter 11: The Election

When Otto and Gregorro walked into the Council Chamber, more than a dozen eyes shifted their way. Otto smiled at them and headed toward his seat to wait for Jerald to arrive. As he passed Emelia, the old Paladin, and several of the older Paladins nodded in his direction.

Otto didn’t know what was going on in the old codger’s head, but he nodded back, nevertheless.

When he reached his chair, Jerald, Andrea, and Toros entered the Council Chamber and took their own seats, waiting for the latecomers. This was Otto’s chance for confrontation. He nodded to Gregorro and stood to make his way over to Jerald.

He was immediately intercepted by Toby, who was once again holding several scrolls.

“Otto, is it true you were seen with a Riftling in the Underbelly?” Toby asked, wiping his forehead.

Otto found it amusing that this was the very suspicion he’d had about Jerald, the very same rumor that had led him to investigate in the first place. He looked around and saw several more eyes on him now—almost everyone was in the room—and knew he had to address their curiosity before their imaginations ran away with them.

He stood from his seat and addressed the chamber. “If you’re all so curious of why I was seen with a Riftling in the Underbelly, I will tell you,” he called, raising his voice to make himself heard. “Now, many of you may not trust my words after I tell you this. If so, you are free to talk to Princess Sapphire and any of the other princesses to confirm my claims.”

“Stop stalling and tell us!” Andrea shouted accusingly.

“You surely heard that during the Midnight Queen’s invasion of Crystalia Castle that she was assisted by a dragon—Nightsong the Eternal.”

There were murmurs and nods throughout, clearly having heard that much.

“We were harassed by that undead monster on our way to the Midnight Tower. We knew we would never be able to defeat it on our own. But then we met someone, someone fearless and cunning enough to elude the Midnight Queen. He possessed a weapon that even a dragon like Nightsong feared, a weapon still locked up in our armory.” Otto smiled at them and nodded. “That person who saved both me and the princesses, who gifted me that weapon that allowed me to defeat Nightsong, that person was a Riftling. The same Riftling that saved me again last night. And I know how odd it may sound, with me being a Paladin, but I can confidently say that man is now my good friend, as well as a friend to Crystalia and an enemy of the Midnight Queen.”

“What nonsense!” Toros shouted. “Everyone knows that Riftlings work for the Dark Consul.”

“Not all Riftlings!” Otto shouted back. “No, not all Riftling are allies of the Dark Consul. The king himself sent a Riftling to find his daughter in the Glauerdoom Moor. He invited Sai to a meeting inside his own Castle to discuss the best way to take down our mutual enemy: the Midnight Queen.” His eyes shifted toward Jerald. “Anyone can choose whether to follow the light—or the dark—no matter their race or their rank.”

Otto studied Jerald’s expression, feeling that surely the older Paladin would read the meaning behind his words and react in some way. However, Jerald’s only expression was impatience.

I could’ve sworn that would have made him pause. Maybe I’m wrong about him.

Jerald raised an eyebrow at Otto. “We are not here to argue the loyalties of Riftlings. We are here to elect a new leader. Now, if you are quite finished with your little story, as glorious as it may be, can we get on with the announcement and vote collecting?”

A little bit taken aback by his lack of response, Otto nodded. “The floor is yours.”

“Very well. Toby,” Jerald called.

Again, Toby jumped up and began unrolling one of his scrolls. This one had bits of loose parchment attached to it.

“Now,” Toby said, sounding frazzled. “The order’s ruling states that there must be two votes, three if necessary: one public to decide on the candidates, and one private. The public vote is to show which person you are willing to vote for with everyone’s knowledge, thus nominating those of us you will freely follow. The private vote is to show who you really choose as your captain without any judgment—”

“Yes, yes,” Jerald said in agitation. “Tell them the process and get on with it.”

“Right . . . well, each of you will choose a piece of parchment.” Toby gestured to the loose pieces on the scroll. “And then write the name of the candidate you think should be our next leader. You will place it in the box for counting.”

“We know how an election works,” Rackel, one of the older Paladins said to a grunt of laughter around him.

“Once again, don’t rush. Come and get your piece in your own time.”

A dozen Paladins rose from their seats and shifted over to collect their piece. Again, Otto chose his piece of paper last. Well, second to last. Behind him, Gregorro grunted and cast his own vote.

“I never vote on these things,” Gregorro said. “But if your suspicion is correct and I’m responsible, even a little, for putting a Dark Consul spy in leadership, well . . .”

Otto wasn’t so sure if that was the case anymore. With how the seneschal had been acting, Otto was beginning to doubt his claims about Jerald more and more.

He went over to a quill but was stopped before he could reach for it.

“What are you doing?” Jerald asked.

Otto raised an eyebrow at his opponent. “What?”

Jerald rolled his eyes and raised a blank piece of paper. “Didn’t you know? The candidates aren’t supposed to vote on this round.”

There was no scorn in Jerald’s voice, his tone was just matter of fact. Otto frowned and looked over to Toby. The young Paladin seemed to have overheard this and said apologetically, “Sorry, Otto. I was so nervous I forgot that part.”

Jerald smiled. “Don’t want to give yourself an unfair advantage, do you?”

Otto turned to face him. “I could ask the same as you.”

Jerald’s brow furrowed. “What are you accusing me of?”

“The reason I was in the Underbelly last night was that I was told that you were seen there talking to a servant of the Dark Consul.”

Otto didn’t know what to expect when telling Jerald this, maybe a shift of the eyes, maybe a threat to keep quiet. But not an expression of horror.

“Who?” He gritted his teeth. “Who said that?”

He didn’t deny it. Maybe the seneschal was just a grumpy snob and Jerald really was working for the Dark Consul.

“The seneschal said one of the king’s spies told him.”

Jerald looked suddenly disgusted. “I knew that fop would try to interfere.”

Otto puffed out his chest. “If you’ve fallen from the grace of the Goddess and win this election, I will stop you from corrupting the Paladins. I will defy you, even if I have to fight the entire order myself. I will not let you let us fall.”

Jerald’s eyes widened, his horror changing to understanding. “I . . . I think I see now.”

Confusion filled every inch of Otto’s mind. Of everything that he thought would happen, this was the last thing he expected.

“What are you talking about?”

Jerald whispered. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Otto was about to shout, “We’ll talk about this now!” But before he could, Toby called, “All the votes are in! I will begin counting!”

Jerald and Toby took their seats. Now was the moment of truth, the moment it would be decided if Otto, an inexperienced Paladin, or Jerald, a potential betrayer of the order, would be the leader.

“One for Jerald.” Toby started. “Two for Jerald.”

Otto swallowed. After the rumor of him being with a Riftling, he didn’t doubt Jerald would get the majority of the votes.

“One for Otto; two, three, four for Otto!” Toby’s tone raised in surprise. “Three for Jerald. Five for Otto! One for Emelia . . .”

Somewhere in the group, Emelia grunted and called, “What blasted fool voted for me? I told you I didn’t want to be a leader.”

“All the more reason,” Rackel grunted, to laughter from the Paladins.

“You son of a dragon,” Emelia muttered.

“Four for Jerald.” Everyone went quiet again. “Six for Otto. Seven for Otto. A . . . another for Emelia.”

More laughter from the older Paladins.

“Idiots!” Emelia grumbled. “Take this seriously!”

“Five and six for Jerald.” Toby paused, then murmured. “I can guess who those two came from.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Andrea shouted.

“Seven for Jerald!” Toby interrupted before Toros could add his grievance. “Eight for Otto, eight for Jerald, nine for Otto, nine for Jerald . . .”

Otto swallowed. Despite the rumors, he and Jerald were still neck and neck. He couldn’t fathom it. Why were they so insistent that he be made the next leader? He didn’t even know if he wanted to be the leader.

They continued to be tied as the rest of the votes were progressively counted. “Twenty-three for Otto . . . twenty-four for Jerald!” Toby raised his voice with his anticipation. One more vote for Jerald and that would be it, he would be their new leader. However, as he drew the last bit of paper out of the box, a confused look crept over Toby’s face. “. . . twenty-four . . . for Otto. “I-it’s a draw.”

Jerald scowled and rushed over to examine the pieces of the paper.

“By the Goddess,” he growled. “This is never easy is it?”

Otto was shocked, not only that he had gotten so many votes, but that even after the anxiety of hearing them being read out, it still wasn’t over.

“Well, boy?” one of the others asked Toby. “What do we do now?”

Toby shook his head in surprise. “Well, this just means that a third vote is necessary. We will hold another election later on in the day. Feel free to talk with one another and try to win some more supporters, because the candidate with the majority will win.”

Murmurs flooded the Council Chamber again, and Otto’s supporters crowded around him.

An arm fell around Otto’s shoulder, followed by raucous laughter.

Gregorro threw up his hands. “You were so close!”

“I’ve been advocating like crazy on your behalf,” said Willis.

“Really?” Otto was suddenly overwhelmed by people patting him on the back. “Why?”

“What?” Willis laughed. “You really think someone like Jerald would listen to hard-headed adventurers like me? That’s what they see in you, Otto. That’s what we all see in you. Ourselves. The adventurous hero wanting to make the order better.”

Otto lifted an eyebrow. “Like my father did?”

With Otto in charge, would that much really change? Would he be the one to change it?

Willis shrugged. “Your father had other good qualities. Besides, whenever he did have any strange ideas, Jerald was always there to rein him in. Say what you will about the second, him and your father made for a good partnership.”

Otto suddenly remembered what Jerald had told him; that they would talk after meeting. After the draw, he expected to see the old second-in-command schmoozing with his fellow conspirators. But as he scanned the room for him, Otto only saw him leave out the main entrance.

“Excuse me.” Otto pulled himself away from the crowd to run after him. “I have to see to something!”

When he went through the door, he saw that Jerald was already striding down the hallway. He ran after him, but then stopped when seeing Sister Claire waiting for him at the stairs. Just like when he was looking for Princess Sapphire, he was intercepted by her.

“Sir Paladin!”

She stepped in front of him, and he nearly bowled her over, but he swerved out of the way at the last second.

“Easy!” he called, but then stopped, wondering why she wasn’t calling him by his name. “What’s the matter? Wait, I’ve got to—”

“No, you have to tell me so I can report.”

Otto frowned. He was taken aback by how demanding she was being. “Sorry, can’t you get it from another of the Paladins—”

Claire advanced on him, a tissue raised to her face. “No, you must tell me who the new captain of the Paladins is.”

A sudden powerful waft of perfume hit his nostrils.

“A-are you wearing perfume?”

“What? You don’t like it?” she asked.

Otto shook his head, not wanting to sound too harsh, especially after he left without an explanation after their last interaction. “No, it’s just . . . you went overboard a bit.” He wondered if she was wearing it for his sake. He hoped not. It wasn’t all that pleasant.

“That doesn’t matter.” Claire waved her hand from side to side. “Tell me who the new captain is!”

“There is no captain yet,” Otto sighed. “The vote was a draw.”

Though her mouth was covered, Claire’s eyes showed she was smiling widely. “That’s great!”

Otto started down the stairs. “What do you mean?”

“Well, didn’t the king cast his vote for you in the last election? He voted for you in this one as well. That means you’re a shoo-in to become the next leader.”

Otto stopped, watching her catch up with him. “I don’t remember telling you about that.”

“Oh,” Claire raised her tissue again. “I heard it from someone else.”

“Why are you holding up a tissue? Are you sick as well?”

Claire shook her head. “No, I-I have a sore on my lip. I don’t want you to see it.”

Otto shook his head, wondering when Claire had become so concerned about her appearance. As someone who took care of bloody and battered men having returned from quests, with much of their grime getting on her during her healing duties, Claire was normally not so self-conscious. But then, she had been awfully forward about their relationship lately, and Otto was conflicted about how he should react. He liked her, but if things went wrong between them, he didn’t want to lose her as a friend. Rushing into anything was just the thing that would cause that.

He proceeded farther down the stairs. “I don’t think I want to be the captain just because the king cast his vote for me.”

Claire burst out. “What are you talking about? Didn’t you want to become the captain so we could be together?”

“What are you . . .” Otto trailed off in confusion. “Do you really think that’s my only reason . . . ?” He shook his head, not knowing how to respond.

Why is she acting so strangely? Is it because I left her without an answer in the library?

“The decision should be made by the Paladins alone,” he finally continued. “Having the king use his five votes to break the tie seems like cheating. It’s not fair.”

“Well, I don’t think it matters what you think. The king will cast his votes, and you will be made the leader. You should be happy. After all, then that spy for the Dark Consul won’t get in.”

A chill went down Otto’s spine. “How did you know that? Did the seneschal tell you?”

“Why, yes.” She tilted her head, as though something had dawned on her. “He told me that Jerald was working for . . . but no, you can just become the captain of the Paladins so we can be together and weed out the spy. After all, you don’t want a friend of the Dark Consul being the leader, do you?”

“It won’t matter,” Otto said.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought I told you. Even if Jerald did become the leader, spy or not, I’d refuse any order that would fall short of the grace of the Goddess.” He shook his head, suddenly frustrated with what she was saying. “But wait, just this morning you were saying that it didn’t matter if I became the leader, because you’d want to be with me anyway.”

Sister Claire stuttered. “Oh, no, what I meant was . . .”

Annoyed by her sudden change of heart, Otto shook his head. “I don’t have time for this. I have to find Jerald and talk to him before the second vote is cast. I don’t think everything is as it seems of late. I’m sorry. I have to get this done now, but we’ll definitely talk later.”

With that, he sped up his descent and took the steps two at a time, rushing out of the Tower in pursuit of his opponent.