Funding the second flexible sleeve forced a sharp political crisis within the High Senate Safety Board. To pay the weavers and blacksmiths for the extra materials, Councilor Vesk was forced to cancel the construction of the new timber watching deck on the High Terrace. A amazing viewing pavilion where the patricians had planned to watch the dedication ceremony in dry comfort.
Two merchant senators arrived at the cooperage at ten in the evening, their silk capes spattered with mud. They shouted that the dignity of the city was being sacrificed for ditch-work. ‘The ambassadors from the northern duchies are arriving tomorrow!’ Senator Malvo blustered. ‘Where are they to stand? In the rain with common draymen?’
Councilor Vesk looked at Malvo with an expression of freezing disdain. ‘The ambassadors can stand under oilskin umbrellas, Senator Malvo, or they can stay in their inns and drink mulled wine. This Board won’t spend four silver coins on a gold-trimmed viewing stand while our mechanics need cloth to keep forty thousand people from drowning in their cellars. The funds are passed to Master Dima’s shop. Good night, gentlemen.’
Pella watched the two patricians stomp out into the rain, feeling the heavy, beautiful clarity of a town administration that had finally remembered what government was for.
