G-Tech Corporation wrote:-snip-
Mara, 8th year, 3rd Summer Monday
"Raginaharjas, son of Kunjamundus. Of Roskilde, but as your men say, today I stand here representing all of Norðurland," Raginaharjas clarified, stepping forwards as his rich brown fur coat settled on his clean shirt and skirt.
Every aspect of the next minute had been carefully written, practiced, and rehearsed. Now that showtime had actually come, Raginaharjas couldn't honestly say that he didn't feel nervous, but he tried to squash that feeling down to the deepest corner of his heart where it wouldn't bother him. Since he met his woman he ventured where no northern man has ever seen before, kept order in a rowdy room of a hundred elders, and tested all of her strange new designs and even before all that he was a proud warrior and hunter. Where in his proud mind belonged nerves?
Clara's words rang out in his head. Give no assurance, make no commitment, and answer no question that you didn't plan to beforehand.
Gudabego, his clerk, handed him a short note of his lines. It was, from a purely functional perspective, an entirely pointless gesture. Raginaharjas could, if pressed, slowly parse the alphabet, but he couldn't read. Not like Clara could. That's why he had his introduction memorised. On the other hand, Clara assured him that it would make a good impression if he at least looked like he could read. So, for the benefit of the audience, he accepted the sheet of bark paper and pretended to look down at it.
"I am pleased and honoured to be so greeted with amity and peace by the Imperium," he spoke, looking back up into the leader's eyes, with the same faux-confident voice with which he chaired Stórþing sittings, "and greet your excellency with hopes of friendship and co-operation from the Stórþing and people of Norðurland."
"Considering the increasing maritime trade between the settlements of our alliance and yours," Raginaharjas continued, "it would be entirely in order to call our two alliances neighbours regardless of the physical distance that separates our frontiers. With new neighbours come new potential for prosperity in new exchanges, but with new neighbours also come new potential for conflict. It is, however, the sincere belief of the people that I stand here to represent that much conflict arise from misunderstandings and lack of good faith by either party."
Raginaharjas dipped his eyes back to his script, letting it settle there in silence for a few seconds. þ... a... well, he was probably looking at the right paragraph? No matter.
"It is the judgement of the Stórþing that if there is to be any conflict between our two alliances, then at least let them arise from genuine grievances than ones born of arrogance and false assumptions. So, I have come here, to further our understanding of your people and allow you to further your understanding of ours and to, if at all possible, lay down the first brick towards building a permanent peace between us. That is my purpose in standing here, before this court."
He returned his script back to his clerk, and stood tall, awaiting a response.
Roskilde, 8th year, 7th Summer Tuesday
It was the seventh week of Summer and, as just like in the last seven years, the Regular Session of the Stórþing was beginning another sitting. The two verðir Stórþingsins - the parliament guards - carefully carried the chest, just a pottery bucket, frankly, full of iron medallions. Although in my old life I was never a great fan of all this old-fashioned symbolic rubbish, here, I found them all quite valuable. With these people, not yet glazed over by the cynicism of a more industrial and educated society, grand gestures still meant something and honour was something both carefully kept and fiercely defended. The chest was laid down on the plain wooden table that dominated the centre of the Chamber with the metallic clinking of 137 oversized coins, each with a unique design and inscription, one for each settlement represented in the Chamber today.
"In the powers vested in me as ræðumaður Stórþingsins Norðurlands," Raginaharjas declared as the verðir resumed their position guarding the entrance to the Stórþingishús, his booming voice easily carrying across the frankly cramped room, "I call the Second Sitting of the 15th Regular Session of Stórþing Norðurlands to order!"
Seven years and 14 Sessions later, Raginaharjas was not the uncertain and fish-out-of-water parliamentarian that I hastily prepared with a couple weeks of nightly rules-and-procedure cramming that he once was. A iron sword and metal-trimmed wooden shield lay beside his elevated wooden seat, making him the only armed person in the Chamber proper. Alongside his fur cloak, not strictly necessary in the summer, and a lazy yet powerful posture, he presented a fierce visage of a hunter-warrior. The kind you didn't want to mess with.
The gavel met stone once, punctuating his words.
"The Aðalþingmaður Clara Axinite Rose, daughter of Julian, is called upon to remind the Stórþing of the discourse held in yesterday's sittings and present the agenda for the day."
That was my cue. I stood up from my chair just in front of but significantly below Raginaharjas', gathering my notes before me.
"The 1st Sitting of the 15th Regular Session of Stórþingsins Norðurlands was called to order on the morning of 8th year, 7th Summer Monday in Stórþingishús by ræðumaður Raginaharjas, son of Kunjamundus. All 137 members were present and accounted for in..."
With no necessary information to present in today's sitting, after the introductions were held, the floor was immediately opened up to statements by members. Already, not even an hour into the session, it was easy to tell the old parliamentarians, particularly the member for København and the member for Ringsted, who have attended every Session right from the first, from those newly joining the Stórþing either because their settlements were only recently pressed into joining Norðurland or because their settlements replaced whoever represented them last Session by how much the latter group seemed ill at ease, looking around, partially standing up and sitting back down... unfamiliar with their surroundings and the various customs and traditions of debate that, even now, just seven years after the creation of the Stórþing, was beginning to assert itself.
The Stórþing has also come a long way from those early campfire discussions in the summer night.
"...and I therefore consider it essential, to ensure the security of our eastern trade, that the violent savagery of the tribes in Sviþjod and Bergslagen be quelled at the soonest opportunity, whether by force or by their induction into our alliance."
"I recognise the member for Akershus. On what grounds do you stand?"
"Right of reply, ræðumaður."
"It is granted."
"I resent, and am deeply offended by, the insinuation by the member for Assens that the responsibility for the continued disruption of trade..."
Confused... yes, they looked very confused indeed. Heh. If you can't beat them, awe them and confuse them. The points raised in the statements were generally fairly menial in nature. The few members who were quite boastful of the þrælar they captured during attacks, of varying levels of justification, around the Baltic coast and Britannia were... quite upsetting. Kaupang, it seemed, set a precedent last winter. Now seemingly everyone wanted to pick up a few extra hands to tend to the fields. I knew that even my own Roskilde picked up six, not from any attacks of its own but from some of the more... hierarchically-minded settlements who felt that we were the unspoken "leader" and helpfully handed us a few as tribute. The elders stressed the point that it was really neither necessary nor expected. I don't think they believed us. In any case, at least within Roskilde I absolutely made sure they were treated well, and even put in hours teaching them the language - the norrænt tungumál.
Asides from the new þrælar the news brought in was mostly the usual chatter of people being angry about various petty grievances and perceived grievances some settlements still had towards their neighbours, those pleased at their adoption of metal replacements for this or that tool, those displeased at the lack of support from Roskilde in terms of their own metalworking crafts, et cetera, et cetera. Sometimes, though, small news was good news. No big natural disaster, or open war, or wolfpack attack happened in the last six months, or it would surely have been brought up. The time marched relentlessly forwards and soon, the various proposals were put forwards for debate.
"These random acts of violence against our neighbours," passionately argued the member for Tønder, "build up in our neighbours distrust and hostility aimed at us. Never forget that we, all of us, are often seen as a unified entity, not least because of our distinctive metal swords. One settlement's lust for þrælar could break a potential partner in trade for years. There clearly needs to be greater co-ordination..."
Of course, for all the trappings of parliamentary legalism that I built into place these past few years, there was still the problem that literate clerks and writers were still very few and in tight supply. The texts of the proposals were rarely more than a couple sentences long, because often enough those proposing an Act had to verbally communicate them to me. It was, perhaps, a great help to my sanity that these Regular Sessions were only held twice a year. What with all my other work piling on top of managing the administrative backwork for the Stórþing, my workload during these Sessions could sometimes get... intense.
Having already read out the text of the Act proposed, I did not have much to do except wait as debate raged around me. As I have many, many times these past few years, I found myself profoundly wanting to do something, to change things, to influence the course of government... but finding myself entirely restricted by my own rules from doing so.
"On the question of the passage of the Act to Peaceful Commerce, as many as are of that opinion, say 'aye.'"
"Aye!"
"Of the contrary, 'no.'"
"No!"
"Divide the Stórþing! Clear the hall and call in the members!"
And yet, I was pleased at all this. The seating was wood and dirt, not lacquered wood and cushion while the walls were billowing tent fabric, not marble and brick, and yet... here, here was the Stórþing. A place where interests competed and decisions were made without violence, without feuds, in an orderly fashion as prescribed in law and procedure. So what if the debate was a little unrefined, if political customs haven't really built up yet?
I created this.
And I'm proud of it.
"The ayes to the right, sixty-four. the noes to the left, fifty-two. Sedentary abstentions, twenty-one. Absent from Chamber, zero."
"The ayes to the right, sixty-four," Raginaharjas repeated, "the noes to the left, twenty-eight. The ayes have it, the ayes have it. In the powers vested in me as the ræðumaður Stórþingsins Norðurlands, I do hereby announce that it is the pleasure of the Stórþing to include henceforth the Act of Peaceful Commerce in lög Norðurlands."
