The Founders' Tribunal

By C. Litka

In this sequel to The Darval-Mers Dossier, Redinal Hu finds himself once again playing a small, but perhaps dangerous, role in the Great Game of the contending Great Houses of Lorria..

When Red's former colleague and good friend, Lorivel Carvie, calls and invites him to dinner – her treat – Red suspects it's more than a social get-together. As much as he wishes it was. And, as it turns out, he was right.

Lorivel's cousin, Carleesa Trilae, is the private secretary of their great grandmother, Penlane Trilae, the First Minister of the Commonwealth of Lorria. The First Minister has received a summons to appear before something called the Founders' Tribunal to defend her administration against charges that she is not following the founding principles of Lorrian society. What this Founders' Tribunal is, and who's behind it, is a mystery. The Minister believes it to be a ploy of a cabal of Great Houses. Nevertheless she is determined, even eager, to face this secret tribunal to let them know exactly what they need to do if they want to maintain the founding principles. Her great granddaughters do not think this is a wise idea. They hope to persuade her to accept Red Hu as her legal counsel and bodyguard. 

Well, Penlane Trilae hasn't remained First Minister of the Commonwealth of Lorria for over half a century by being timid. So it's on to plan two.

The Founders' Tribunal is a 25,000 word novella that takes place several months after events recorded in The Darval-Mers Dossier. Set during the troubled times leading up to the Second Founding, this story is Red Hu's first outing using his alias, Red Wine, a gentleman for hire. The is set in the same world of Chateau Clare and Glencrow Summer, but during an earlier historical period than those two novels.

C. Litka spins tales of adventure, mystery, and travel set in richly imagined worlds. In The Founders' Tribunal he has written a little story of mystery and adventure with his usual cast of colorful, fully realized characters. If you seek to escape your everyday life, you'll find no better company, nor more wonderful worlds to explore, than in the stories of C. Litka.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C. Litka
• Release date: Nov 3, 2025
• ISBN: 9798232121983

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

‘T onight. Dinner. The VerreJardine. Eight sharp. No excuses, Red.’

‘No excuses? You’ve used dozens of them. I’m not even allowed one?’

‘It hasn’t been dozens. Plus, you were out of town for weeks at a time when we could’ve dined every night.’

‘A lie unworthy of you, Lorivel.’

‘Prove it. Tonight?’

‘Well, it just happens you’re in luck. Tonight's the only night I have free until sixthday.’

‘Really?’

‘We butlers are in great demand this week. If you’re not looking after your own house’s holiday gala, you’re pitching in to help some other butler put on theirs. With Solstice Week luncheons every day and galas every night, we’re kept hopping all week.’

‘That I believe. But who’d have thought there’d be such camaraderie among such remote and regal beings as butlers?’

‘Butlers are human.’

‘I suppose I must take your word for that. Tonight, then?"

‘I’d been looking forward to just putting my feet up. But for you, Lorivel, eight sharp,’ I sighed.

‘Excellent. I’ll make it worth your while.’

‘Really?’

‘I’ll pick up the tab. But I must run; I still have trinkets to buy for all my nieces and nephews. Tonight. We’ll have time to talk then. Bye.’

‘Bye...’ but she’d already hung up.

I slipped my pocket caller back into my jacket’s inside chest pocket and shook my head. That was Lorivel Carvie, on a platter, with greens. We’d worked alongside each other at the law firm of Janga & Pallie for thirty-five years. She is still at it ten years later. Working all the time. And when not at her desk or in court, she was wining and dining Janga & Pallie clients while being both brilliant at everything and beautiful as well. Something neither Mz Janga or Mr Pallie could claim. Being beautiful, that is. They were both brilliant, with deep ties to the most powerful Great Houses of the Commonwealth, and made a lucrative business out of serving them.

We’d been meaning to get together for dinner all autumn, and here it was, the second day of Solstice Week, the six-day-long winter holiday, a week out of the regular calendar. And it was, indeed, the one evening I had free this week, and it looked to be our only opportunity to get together any time soon, if past performance was any indication. If she didn’t cancel.

I continued what I had been doing when she called, walking to the side door to don my overcoat for my own shopping expedition. Ellington appeared at my side as I did so. I let him out. Since it was damp, cold, and threatening to snow, I waited inside for him to reappear at the door before stepping out into the grey morning myself. I hurried across to the carriage house and fired up my little Val to drive to the Broad in search of some trinkets for my staff, which is to say, Grandma and Foy, for our little New Year's feast on the fifth night of the Solstice Holiday.

As well as my traditional gift for Lorivel Carvie.

The shops were crowded with holiday shoppers, and I found that I hadn’t given trinkets much thought, so I spent well over an hour wandering in and out of the many shops along the Broad. It had begun to snow by the time I left the last shop, trinkets in hand.

Three times is my limit.

As I inspected my third attempt at tying my tie, I decided I had reached that limit. It was nondescript but not disreputable.

Which could also describe the face in the mirror. Not handsome. Rather pleasantly nondescript. One that I can effortlessly put on just a little scowl of disdain and look just like a butler. I put on that little scowl and found, yes, it seems that I was born to butlering.

The rest of me was trim enough, and in my best evening rig, looking rather sharp, if I do say so myself. Despite, or perhaps because of, my undemanding schedule, I’ve had plenty of time to keep in shape. There is my long-time hobby of fencing, saber, and now, the use of an air pistol, plus martial arts, courtesy of my new position within the VonEv Agency.

I gave a final tug to the tie to slightly straighten it out, and the same to my collar, ran the brush through my hair one last time, and walked across to my office to call the taxi stand on the Broad.

‘Maple Knoll House, on Marigold Street – the old Quan place.’

And having delivered that message, I walked down to the side door to pull on my galoshes, overcoat, and flat cap – a concession to the fact that it had been snowing since noon and still was, halfheartedly. I slipped Lori’s Solstice present into my overcoat pocket.

Ellington was at my side before I swung the inner door open.

I let him out and poked my head into the kitchen.

‘I’ve let the hound out. Don’t forget to let him back in,’ I said to Foy, who was playing cards with Grandma at the kitchen table.

‘Just as you say, Mr Red,’

‘Enjoy your dinner with Lorivel, son,’ added Grandma. ‘Will you be home tonight?"

‘I’m sure I will be.’

She shook her head sadly.

As did I.

Stepping out, I found just enough snow had fallen to hide the walkway and cover the lawn with an unmarred sheet of white. It was still silently snowing, muffling the hum of the city. The drifting flakes glowing in the reflected light of the streetlights and soft beams of light streaming out of the lit windows of the mansions of the Rivers. All the unlit windows had their specks of light from the electric candles set in the windows, the traditional Solstice Holiday decoration.

Ellington, still very much a puppy, was tearing around the front yard, looking to be chasing snowflakes, as I walked to the front gate. He would’ve followed me out had I not shut the gate in his face. He gave his most mournful bark.

‘Sorry, Ellington. You weren’t invited,’ I informed him as the taxi pulled alongside the kerb.

‘Evening Mr Hu. Where to?’ the taximan asked as I climbed in.

‘Evening, Brill, The VerreJardine, Park Close,’ I said. Taxi drivers are very territorial, so the Rivers has its own cadre of drivers who know most of us by name. Even the butler of Maple Knoll House. Who, in turn, knows most of the taxi drivers.

‘Right you are, Mr Hu,’ he replied, and set out, cutting a new trail through the grey slush and white snow of Marigold Street, bound for winter-dark downtown of Celora.

Like the mansions of the Rivers, the windows of all the dark shops of Celora and residences above them twinkled with their solar-powered candle lights. The short and often cloudy winter days of the solar-powered city meant that shops closed early, turned off their signs, and, like everyone in the city, turned off the lights of every unused room as well. While every building has its bank of power-cells to make up for a shortfall in sunlight, no one takes the chance of running out of heat and light in winter by the extravagant use of electricity. And so the Solstice Holiday is celebrated with solar-powered candles in every window to remind us of light in the gloom of winter. And not much else. Except for parties large and small every afternoon and night for a week. At least in the Rivers Borough.

CHAPTER TWO

The VerreJardine is located off Gardens Avenue, at the far end of the narrow Park Close that runs along

Reviews for The Founders' Tribunal

[Blakeman.david · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Probably the best author I’ve discovered in years. Read every book of his / hers I can find. Very Edwardian in style and a relaxing enjoyable read. Very highly recommended. Only criticism they are all to short and not enough of the books are available. I really enjoy the leading characters.