Sir Owen opened the drafting table in the First Citadel's old cafeteria hall on the second morning after Verrin voted. Nineteen people sat around it, and only four of them had ever held a rank the national board recognized.
He put the reason for the table into the record before anyone argued about a clause. Seven cities had signed a compact drafted for a single night's emergency.
That compact was now carrying convoys, hospitals, grain settlements, and a legal war. Nothing underneath it explained what happened when the people currently holding it were gone.
"You have a working arrangement and no rules underneath it," Owen said, laying his certified template on the boards, "so the question in front of this room is what survives if every person at this table is dead in a year."
