Seven Deaths of an Empire

by Matthews, G R

  XXV

  The General

  Nine years ago:

  “That’s the fifth day in the last two weeks he’s come home covered in mud,” Decima said across the table.

  “It’ll be the other boys,” Gessius said. “There’s a big one with an evil eye. I could… you know.”

  The boy looked up at the adults, his eyes questioning, hopeful, and his tunic torn at the shoulder.

  “He has to learn to stand up for himself,” he said, nodding his thanks to the old soldier. “He’ll be better for it in the end.”

  “Alchemy,” Vedrix said, the fingers of one hand tangling in his beard.

  The council chamber was sealed, and guards had been posted along the corridor. The Empress sat at the head of the table, her face a rigid mask of repressed emotion, but her eyes flashed from rage to sadness with every breath she took. Aelia sat close by and was less successful masking her emotions. Fear and loss were written clear across her face and in every movement she made.

  “You are sure?” Godewyn asked, leaning both elbows on the table and looking down the bare surface at the magician.

  “No doubt,” Vedrix nodded.

  “A poison?” Bordan asked. “The Prince was poisoned. By what or who?”

  “If I may,” Vedrix began, looking towards the Empress who, after a moment, nodded, “the art of alchemy can create poisons, but so can any number of skilled men and women. Even in the rural areas, especially in the rural areas, poisons are common. A plant, an animal, an insect. Some need no processing or special preparation to be effective. Alchemy is something different.”

  Warming to his subject, and with the room’s occupants silent, Vedrix continued. “Alchemy concerns itself with rearranging, enhancing, and focusing the natural components of an object, plant, or animal. With skill, and much training, a skilled alchemist can combine ingredients into potions which can do miraculous things.”

  Godewyn grunted. “Miracles are the province of priests and the Flame, magician. Do not make claims to the power of the Flame, lest you feel its burn.”

  Vedrix stopped and swallowed. “Forgive my enthusiasm, High Priest, perhaps it made my language freer than I had intended. Nonetheless, alchemy is capable of many things which could not be accomplished without the presence of a skilled magician. The potions which your officers carry, for instance, are alchemical in nature.”

  “The healing flasks?” Bordan said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought they were herbal concoctions.”

  “There are herbs within, certainly,” Vedrix said, “but they have been enhanced. The process is, I understand, laborious and often fails which is why there are so few flasks amongst the army.”

  “Could the flask have saved my father?” Aelia spoke in a rush.

  “Without… that is… because we…” Vedrix bumbled his words and was forced to stop, to take a breath. “It is possible, Princess. However, I am certain that his staff would have administered the flask as soon as they knew the Emperor’s life was in danger. Much of our supply was understandably sent with the effort in the northern forest. Flasks would have been in easy reach.”

  Bordan watched the light dim in the Princess’s eyes once more and the young woman withdrew back into silence.

  “How was Prince Alhard killed?” Bordan asked.

  “Without revealing the nature of the crime, I have spoken with our alchemists and given them a sample of the substance I found,” Vedrix said.

  “Substance?” the Empress asked, her pale skin looking like ivory in the light of the candles.

  “In his stockings, Your Highness,” Vedrix said. “The assassin was most careful.”

  “Assassin?” Godewyn interrupted.

  “Someone who kills someone else, usually for payment,” Vedrix explained.

  “I know what one is, Vedrix,” Godewyn snapped. “I am questioning your assumption.”

  “I do not know how else to explain it,” Vedrix answered, his own ire rising.

  It would do no good for the High Priest of the Empire to argue with the Master Magician of the Gymnasium. The relationship between religion and magic was best described as tense, and it would serve no purpose to allow it to fester and erupt into sores which no potion could cure. Until the heir was crowned, the Empire needed peace and stability. The question of whether or not Aelia could bring those was one for another day.

  “You are saying it was a deliberate act?” Bordan interrupted.

  “Yes, General,” Vedrix answered, turning his gaze gratefully onto the old General. “The substance is, I am told, only used to kill. It has no other purpose and many of the alchemists were shocked to discover it existed. It is, they tell me, famously hard to manufacture and possess, as much risk to the alchemist as to the intended victim. Skin contact is sufficient. The lightest brush against bare skin and death is almost certain.”

  “In his stockings?” Aelia said, her chin resting on her chest, looking down at the floor between her feet.

  “It took some time to find,” Vedrix nodded. “I had to follow the traces of its manufacture. The hints of magic used to enhance the properties it contains. There was a small dot of it on the inside of his left stocking and nowhere else. It must have been put there most carefully, though I could not tell you when.”

  “These alchemists you have,” Godewyn said. “Could they make it?”

  “One or two, possibly,” Vedrix admitted, “though the ingredients are, I am told, very hard to come by and the cost is very high. None of my alchemists have access to the money it would cost. I’ve instructed our own Magisters to investigate.”

  “Magisters?” Bordan said, surprised. This was not a title he had heard of within the Gymnasium.

  “The Emperor was clear with the Gymnasium, General. We must have those who can investigate and act against magicians who break the laws of the land. The Magisters police our work, and even I am subject to their laws.”

  “But they are not independent,” Godewyn said. “They could cover up what they find. I insist my own Justices are permitted to investigate the production of the poison.”

  “Not in my Gymnasium,” Vedrix snapped back. “My apologies, Your Highness. Your Justices carry their own bias with them, High Priest Godewyn. Their work in the countryside, tracking down unregistered magicians is, of course, important. However, I often note with sadness how many of these magicians die soon after discovery. With the proper training and guidance, they could have been a great asset to the Empire.”

  When Godewyn did not defend his priesthood, Bordan realised that it was out of respect for the magician rather than a denial of the truth.

  “You can provide the Justices with the ingredient list and some guidance on what to look out for?” Bordan said. “They may be of use in the wider city and beyond.”

  Vedrix’s eyes narrowed and he sucked in a long breath. “Of course, General. In this case, should they find the alchemist, I will not shed a tear if he is executed in a timely manner.”

  The ghost of a smile passed across Godewyn’s face and before Bordan could ponder it further, the Empress spoke.

  “General,” she said, her voice flat and devoid of life, “it appears we have assassins within the castle.”

  “I will increase the guard about you and Princess Aelia,” Bordan answered. “Men and women I can vouch for only. My soldiers have swept the castle already, however we will do so again now we are in possession of more information. Whoever killed Prince Alhard had access to his clothes. I’ve already questioned the guards assigned to the imperial quarters. All of them report the same thing: no one went into the Prince’s quarters who was not allowed.”

  “Someone did,” Aelia said, her voice a whisper in the room. “They must have done to plant the poison.”

  “I am not discounting the possibility, Princess. However, all guards work in pairs which are assigned on a random basis each day. Everyone we have interviewed reports the same thing: no suspicious activity.”

  “How did the poison
get there then, General?” Aelia said, biting off each bitter word.

  “We will question the staff who wash and prepare the imperial wardrobes. There are a lot of washers, cleaners, driers, and seamstresses to service the imperial clothes. Between the three strands of the investigation, we will find them.”

  “Ensure you do, General,” Aelia said, suddenly rising from her chair.

  The three advisers sat in silence as the young Princess stalked from the room, slamming the door behind her.

  “The death of her brother has unsettled her,” the Empress said and Bordan noted the way her gaze strayed to the door.

  “It is to be expected, Your Highness,” Godewyn said. “There is comfort that Prince Alhard’s flame has gone to join the Holy Flame, but it is a comfort which comes only when grief has run its course.”

  “I hope such comfort arrives quickly,” she said in a quiet voice before straightening in her seat and fixing them each with a stare. “However, I am more concerned with the possibility of assassins within the castle and palace.”

  “We will ensure your safety, Your Highness,” Bordan assured her.

  “More than mine, General,” she replied, her tone frosty. “Aelia is now the heir. Her life is more important than anyone’s now, even my own. She must be crowned, and the Empire must go on. Will your guards be enough to stop another assassin, one who uses magic to kill?”

  “I can assign a Magister, Your Highness,” Vedrix offered.

  “A magician?” Godewyn scoffed. “So close to the imperial family and with a magician already exposed as an assassin?”

  “With due respect, High Priest,” Vedrix said, stiffening, “while an alchemist may have made the poison used, it is unlikely they carried out the foul act. Most prefer study to physical activity and a life spent in books, at the experiment table, does not equip them for such subterfuge as would be needed.”

  Godewyn grunted. “I’ll assign a Justice to watch the Magister.”

  “If you so desire it,” Vedrix agreed. “Your Highness, with Justice and Magister, plus the General’s trusted guards, you and the Princess will have the best protection in the Empire.”

  Bordan suppressed the sinking feeling in his chest. A priest tasked with hunting magicians, and a magician with a dislike of priests, would cause a headache for the guards assigned. It was likely they would spend more time keeping the two apart than actually guarding the imperial family, and a distraction could let another assassin through.

  “Godewyn, Master Vedrix, the offer is deeply appreciated,” Bordan began, searching for the right words and finding them escaping the grip of his thoughts. He was saved from floundering when the Empress spoke.

  “Your offers are appreciated,” she said, “and we will take you up on them. Can you ensure that both Magister and Justice will be focused upon our protection, rather than their own inbred distrust of one another? I appreciate that both you and Master Vedrix are able to work together, High Priest, however there is undeniable tension between the priesthood and members of the Gymnasium.”

  “I assure you, Your Highness,” Godewyn said in a calm voice which washed the worry from Bordan’s mind, “I will select the best Justice for the role. I am sure Master Vedrix will likewise impress on his Magister the need to work together for the good of the Empire.”

  “Of course,” Vedrix agreed. “Your safety, Your Highness, and that of Princess Aelia, will be their paramount concern.”

  “General?” the Empress asked.

  “I will talk with the guards, Your Highness,” Bordan answered, though he knew she was not asking permission. “They will be at their highest alert for any trouble.”

  “Your Highness,” Godewyn began and for the first time Bordan saw a little uncertainty cross the man’s face, “forgive me, however it is customary for the Emperor’s funeral to take precedence, even that of an heir.”

  “What is your meaning?” she asked, her words trembling on the air.

  “We have placed Alhard’s body in the imperial crypt,” Godewyn said, “for the present.”

  “And my magicians will ensure its preservation,” Vedrix added smoothly, almost as if the two had discussed this before.

  “Until the funeral can take place properly,” Godewyn completed.

  “Thank you both,” the Empress said, standing. “I will check on the Princess’s well-being.”

  Bordan stood and bowed, as did the other two men in the room as the current ruler of the Empire swept through the door her daughter had used a short time before.

  “I do not want any trouble,” Bordan said, after the door was shut.

  “There will not be,” Godewyn assured him. “I will select the right Justice for this role. I believe I have just the person in mind. Vedrix will do the same.”

  “And though it pains us both to admit, it will not be the first time a priest and magician have worked in concert for the betterment of the Empire,” Vedrix said.

  “What?” Bordan looked between the two men. “You have done something similar before?”

  “We look after the spiritual health of the Empire, Bordan, and the Magicians after some of the more esoteric problems we are confronted with,” Godewyn answered as Vedrix nodded. “Sometimes we must work together.”

  “Why did I not know?”

  “Because you have enough to worry about, my old friend,” Godewyn answered.

  “And because there are some things you are better off not knowing,” Vedrix added, and Bordan was stunned to see Godewyn nod in assent.

  “When this is over and Aelia is Emperor, we are going to talk about this,” Bordan promised.

  “You may not like what you learn,” Godewyn answered and it was Vedrix’s turn to nod.

  XXVI

  The Magician

  Eight years ago:

  Squinting through his one good eye towards the sun as it set over the walls of the city, he knew he was going to be late home. Excuses would serve him poorly, that had been a lesson well learned. Reasons mattered, and the truth: anything else was an excuse.

  He prodded at the swelling around his left eye. That would be hard to keep secret and was as good a reason as any.

  “A magician amongst them?”

  “Yes, Spear,” Kyron said.

  “How powerful, Kyron?” Padarn asked, resting a hand on Kyron’s shoulder.

  “She broke both of my constructs without trouble, Master,” Kyron said.

  “Is that difficult, Master Padarn?” Astentius asked. “Forgive my lack of knowledge surrounding your skills.”

  “To break Kyron’s nets? Not especially,” and his master gave Kyron an apologetic look before continuing. “Nets are by themselves quite fragile and the one Kyron used to find the magician was especially so. I am more concerned that she broke two in quick succession. It speaks of someone who understands their nature and can maintain constructs of her own, two very different ones at least.”

  “A master as powerful as you?” Kyron asked.

  “Likely,” Padarn agreed. “You did well to maintain two of your own, Apprentice. You’re growing and learning.”

  “I was not aware the tribes and clans had any magicians?” Astentius said, looking to Emlyn.

  She shrugged.

  “How many?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “I’ve never counted them all.”

  “This will complicate things somewhat,” Astentius said, ignoring her answer. “Master Padarn, can you counter this magician during the battle?”

  “To a degree,” he answered. “I am not sure what she can or will do. Magicians tend to specialise in certain fields and areas. Those that interest them, or those they have a talent for. No two are alike. Even Kyron here has more talent in some areas than me.”

  Kyron felt his heart swell with pride.

  “Where will she focus her powers?” Astentius asked. “Where would you if you were her?”

  “At the front during the first clash of arms,” Padarn said after a moment of though
t. “Try to break their lines and support my own. Give them an edge.”

  “And after that?”

  “Once battle is truly joined, I would focus on the flanks,” Padarn said with a nod. “Little point in trying much along the front when it is likely the shifting line of battle would put my own troops in the firing line.”

  “It is just one magician,” Borus said. “Give me a decent archer and a single arrow will end the trouble.”

  “That is also a good plan, Spear,” Padarn said. “If you occupy her with arrows, she will spend a lot of power shielding herself, there will be fewer constructs attacking our troops.”

  “Can your apprentice help you?” Astentius said and raised a hand before Padarn could answer. “He is young, I know, and normally I would not ask. However, we cannot allow the Emperor’s body to fall into the hands of these tribes. It is too important, too vital to the Empire.”

  Padarn’s chest rose and fell, as all around soldiers drew themselves into formation. “I promised his grandfather I would keep him safe.”

  “Yet, you took him to war?” Astentius said. “I am not questioning that judgement. We each do what we must for the Empire.”

  “His grandfather did question the wisdom of that choice.” Padarn smiled.

  Kyron’s heart fell. The old man knew war, knew its risks and rewards. He spoke all the time about service to the Empire, about honour and duty. For him to argue against Kyron’s presence in the army, serving the Empire, was typical.

  “However, he saw the need,” Padarn continued. “Kyron would be useful, and everyone must have their first taste of battle.”

  “I’ve already seen battle, Master,” Kyron protested.

  “Not like this, Kyron,” Padarn answered and there was a soft, sad note to the man’s voice. “He will stand with me in the line, at least for the first clash.”

  “Good,” Astentius agreed. “Kyron, serve with honour.”

  “Yes, Spear,” Kyron said and bowed, the realisation bringing a flush of pride to his face and a worm of fear burrowing into his belly.

  “Borus, they’ll stand with you in the centre,” the Spear said. “Make sure they are protected.”