by Steven Brust
"I should like nothing better."
"Here it is, then."
"I am listening."
"It is said that in the Ninth Reign of the Issola, the Warlord, Markon e'Lanya, had just won a decisive battle upon the Lockhair Plains, through which we have just passed, during the Smallflute Uprising. The people of the village of Lockhair lined this road and covered him with flowers to mark his passage. He slowed down to acknowledge them, which gave other citizens of the region time to gather flowers with which to perform the same courtesy, so that he was addressed in this manner all the way to the gate of Dragaera City, which was, by the way, then named the Dragon Gate in his honor."
"It is a good story."
"Is it not?"
"But I heard you say, 'It is said.'"
"Well, and if I did?"
"It makes me wonder what truth there is in the story."
Sethra smiled. "Very little. In fact, there was a cart of flowers on the road, and, in trying to move it hastily, the owner, a Jhegaala whose home had been saved by Markon's army, tipped it over, and to cover his embarrassment he made some remarks about how honored he was that Markon should ride over the flowers—remarks that would have served better had he not stuttered so horribly in delivering the speech. Still, it is true that Markon did win the battle—and cleverly at that—and that the Dragon Gate was named in his honor. The road did not change its name for some years, until the story had grown enough that even those who had seen the event believed the story rather than their own memories."
Aliera smiled. "He won the battle, you say—and yet, in truth, did he do so without your help?"
Sethra laughed. "Entirely. I was on the other side, though in no important capacity."
"How, you took arms against the Empire?"
"I've taken arms against the Empire, my love, nearly as often as I've taken arms for the Empire."
"Well, then, why will you not help my father on this occasion? You could do so, you know. It may be that the Lavodes would decide the issue."
Sethra was silent for some few minutes, then she said, "It is true that I have taken arms against the Empire, but I have never taken arms against the Cycle."
"I do not understand the difference."
"I am not certain I do either, Aliera e'Kieron. Yet I know that, in this case, I cannot but oppose him. If that makes me your enemy, we can now dismount and settle matters, as we have come close to doing so often this last five-day."
Now it was Aliera who fell silent, and so they rode for some distance, until she at last said, "No, for my part, this is no cause to quarrel. When you make a remark that annoys me, or when you laugh at a time that displeases me, or when you give me a look that seems to hide a sneer, then I can fight you, and still might. But I cannot fight when you speak of your duty and your willingness to act in the way that seems right to you. But come, are there not an appalling number of Teckla on the road? What does this mean?"
"They are not only Teckla; I see some bourgeois. It means, I think, that all is far from well in the city—you perceive how many wagons there are? Many of these citizens consider this a good time to be away from the city; and, come, do you think them wrong?"
"Not in the least. Is that not the post-station ahead? The last one, I think, which means that we shall be in the Imperial Palace in an hour, and see what we shall see."
We will allow Sethra and Aliera to continue their ride, while we turn our attention back to Khaavren, who is, just at this moment, arriving at the Palace. We should note that we have no rigorous policy regarding chronology—that is, having decided to relate this history, we have determined to do so in a way that, without ever compromising the truth, makes for as pleasurable an experience for our readers as possible. If, therefore, we are required by the logic of our history to move about in time, well, we are perfectly willing to do so. To the left, however, we must insist that when it happens that events fall out in such a way that we can relate them precisely in the order in which they occurred, nothing in the world will prevent us from doing so.
We have exactly such an occasion here, for Khaavren, upon waking up at his accustomed hour, still felt a certain weakness caused by the blood he had lost, and, moreover, he recalled Navier's orders—yet not his intention to arise early in order to address His Majesty on certain subjects; wherefore he at once went back to sleep.
He awoke a second time some hours later and only then recalled that there was something upon which he ought to speak to His Majesty, and so, hastily throwing on his clothes and buckling on his sword (which Srahi, to her credit, had placed in exactly its proper place, that being on a peg at the top of the stairs), he rushed to the Palace as quickly as he could, not even entering through the Dragon Wing, but, rather, passing directly into the Imperial Wing, where he found His Majesty while the latter was sitting down to break his fast.
His Majesty looked up, and his face glowed with pleasure. "Ah, ah, Captain! You are well, I perceive?"
"Indeed, Sire, though shamefully late, for which I hope Your Majesty can forgive me—I plead my recent wounds as an excuse."
"A worthy excuse, without doubt, good Captain, and you are forgiven."
"Thanks, Sire. But I have not interrupted Your Majesty's breakfast without cause—on the contrary, there are issues that will not wait."
The Emperor, who was eating a smoked fish which had been covered with whipped and fried hen's eggs, put down his utensils, wiped his chin, and said, "Speak, then, for I am listening."
"Your Majesty may remember that I was ordered to arrest Lord Adron, and that, moreover, I was ordered to ensure his safety after his presumed arrest."
"Yes, I remember that, Captain."
"Your Majesty may also remember that I failed to arrest him."
"That is not something I am likely to forget."
"Yes, Sire. Well, Your Majesty must understand that, although I did not arrest him, I did make preparations for ensuring that, if I had, he would remain in captivity."
"Well?"
"Sire, nearly all of my guards are dispersed around the Iorich Wing, and in other key places around the city, and have been on duty with little or no sleep most of a day."
"Then they ought to be recalled, don't you think, Captain?"
"I am entirely in accord with Your Majesty on this point. However—"
"Yes, Captain? However?"
"If Your Majesty is contemplating military action against His Highness—"
"Action you recommended," recalled the Emperor.
"Yes, Sire. If Your Majesty is contemplating action of this sort—"
"I am more than contemplating it, Captain, I am resolved upon it."
"Then Your Majesty ought to be aware we are in no position to oppose the riots in the city that must necessarily accompany any such action."
"How, riots?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Among the people?"
"Exactly, Sire."
"Why is this?"
"For several reasons, Sire. First of all, Lord Adron is extremely popular—indeed, the people, and those in the city most of all, perceive him as their protector, because of his daughter's action at the bakery, and because he is the Heir, and Your Majesty is not, at this time, popular with the masses because of the food shortages and the taxes, and—"
"Captain! How could such a state occur and I remain ignorant of it?"
"Sire, it is because some of those with a duty to keep you informed have been assassinated, and others have been distracted, and yet others—by this last, Sire, I mean myself—have been, first busy, and then wounded. This has all happened suddenly, and much of it bears the marks of conspiracy."
The Orb had darkened steadily to the point where Khaavren feared an outburst, but Tortaalik, barely master of the Empire, scarcely master of his house, was able this time to master his emotions. He said, "How much time will be required for you to make arrangements to keep order in the city?"
"A day, Sire. It cannot be done in less time."
"Well, Rollond
ar will not be setting out after Adron before to-morrow's dawn."
"That is true, Sire, but the army will be gathering, and the army will know why, and so the people will learn why, and, Sire, I cannot be responsible for the next thirty hours if the people learn that Your Majesty intends to send the Imperial Army after His Highness."
The Orb darkened again, and His Majesty glared and said through clenched teeth, "What, then, do you propose, Captain?"
"Sire, Your Majesty must at once cancel the attack on His Highness."
"Cancel it, you say?"
"Yes, Sire."
The Emperor's mouth worked, and he said, "His Highness is a friend of yours, is he not?"
Khaavren bowed and said coolly, "I have the honor of calling him a friend, yes, Sire."
The Emperor met the Captain's gaze, then dropped his eyes. "Very well," he said. "I will suspend the attack until such a time as we believe it to be safe."
"Sire—"
"I will announce to everyone—including Rollondar—that it is to be canceled. But we will maintain the army in the city. I assume that, should there be disorder, you would have some use for the army?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Then it will be so. And yet, Rollondar said that each day that passes allows Adron to move more horses into position."
"Sire, the Breath of Fire Battalion cannot face all the forces Lord Rollondar commands, however much preparation His Highness has."
"You are certain of this?"
"Entirely, Sire."
"Well then—what is it?"
This last was addressed to a servant who appeared suddenly at the doorway.
"Sire, Sethra Lavode and Aliera e'Kieron beg the honor of an audience with Your Majesty."
The Emperor looked at the Captain, as if expecting an explanation from him, and then looked down at his unfinished breakfast with an expression of distaste, and said. "I shall see them in the Portrait Room."
"Yes, Sire," said the servant.
Chapter The Twenty-Fifth
Which Treats of Two Very Different Persons,
Each of Whom Reveals Plans
For the Benefit of a Very Different Audience,
And for the Reader.
His majesty arrived in the Portrait Room and took his seat (by which, be it clearly understood, we mean the throne, for, insofar as there was a throne in the Imperial Palace, it was the tall, soft, gilded chair which sat at the head of the Portrait Room on a slightly raised dais). Khaavren took his position at the Emperor's elbow, after which His Majesty commanded that the visitors be admitted. He had arrived, as it happened, only two or three minutes before the time normally set aside for meeting with High Lords and Princes, which allowed him to pretend that he was not, in fact, making an exception to established protocol—it was important to Tortaalik that everything at court appear to proceed normally; that no sign of the turmoil beneath the surface should show in the functioning of the court or in his own countenance. Therefore, when Jurabin entered just before tenth hour was signaled, and glanced in surprise at the already-occupied throne, the Emperor responded by giving him a look of reprobation, as if it were Jurabin who was late rather than himself who was, in fact, early.
Jurabin, detecting this comedy, bowed as if in apology, and took his position behind the throne just as Sethra and Aliera, having been announced, made first their appearance in the Hall, then their way to the throne.
They both executed deep courtesies, as befit nobles come before their Emperor; courtesies which His Majesty graciously acknowledged with lowered head and sweep of hand and which he punctuated with the words, "We welcome you both to our presence, and hope that you have had a journey hither that was neither too tiring nor too difficult, and that, moreover, you will both enjoy your visit to our home and that your errand, if any, will have a satisfactory conclusion."
Sethra, speaking for both, said, "The journey, Sire, was not tiring, and was only difficult when we confronted the throngs at the Dragon Gate itself. Yet, Sire, we came with all speed, and we thank Your Majesty for the alacrity, as well as for the kindness and courtesy, with which we have been received."
"You came, you say, with all speed," said Tortaalik. "From this, then, may we presume that you have an errand to us?"
"We have the honor of coming before Your Majesty with certain proposals," said Sethra. "Proposals to which we humbly beseech Your Majesty to condescend to listen."
"I shall indeed be only too happy to listen to any proposals delivered by two such messengers—one famous through all of history, the other a High Lord of the most esteemed line of the House of the Dragon. But tell us, first—on whose behalf come these proposals?"
As Tortaalik gave this speech, Khaavren, standing in his accustomed place next to and slightly behind the throne, stroked his cheeks with his hand. If, as he suspected, the "proposals" they were about to hear came from Lord Adron, then he might have work to do at once. (We should note, for those who are worried about guardsmen still uselessly on duty, that, as they walked to the hall, Khaavren had written out a note to his corporal, Thack, in which he commanded that the extraordinary forces he had called out be relieved at once.) Aliera, we should note, had still not said a word, but rather had remained mute, and had looked at His Majesty with a gaze that only barely indicated the respect due her Sovereign.
"Sire," said Sethra, "I come on no one's behalf but my own. The Lady Aliera accompanies me from choice, and to indicate support for the proposals I am about to have the honor of laying before Your Majesty."
"Very well," said the Emperor, who seemed to Khaavren a little disappointed with the answer, as if he had expected to hear Adron's name, and had prepared a scathing reply should this name be pronounced. "We are ready to listen; let us hear these proposals. What is it they address?"
"They address many issues, Sire."
"Well?"
"Among them the food shortages in the city, the taxes upon the merchants, the rebellion on the part of His Highness, Adron, the Dragon Heir—"
"Ah!" said Tortaalik. "Pardon me, but I believe you have pronounced the word, rebellion."
"Yes, Sire, that is the very word."
"And you, Lady Aliera—do you also use this word?"
"I do, Sire, for it describes the case admirably. Your Majesty ought to note, however, that in my mind, I do not condemn the act by so naming it, but, rather, I only identify it accurately."
The Emperor looked at her carefully, as if undecided whether to become angry, but the Orb didn't change from its neutral, placid, pale rose, and His Majesty merely said, "Very well, continue."
"Yes, Sire," said Sethra, after a brief glance at her companion.
"I wonder what it is they are doing," said Khaavren to himself. "Have they true proposals, are they about to effect an elaborate insult, or is it part of some deep strategy? And, whatever they think they are doing, how will it be received? Cha! What point speculation? I will find out soon enough, I think."
Sethra continued, saying, "These problems, in addition to those I have already had the honor of enumerating, include the confusion, assassinations, and conspiracies at court which were the reason I was first asked to temporarily forsake my home in exchange for taking up residence in Your Majesty's."
"Very well," said His Majesty. "Those are the problems you wish to address: To be sure, they are no small issues, but, rather, are deep, broad, and powerful. And yet you say you have proposals which will cure all of these ills?"
"To cure all of these ills, Sire, is too much to ask of anyone, or any one idea. Yet I believe that, should Your Majesty take the step I have the honor of suggesting, it will make a good start to finding remedies for them all."
"In that case, I can hardly contain my impatience to learn of what this step consists, and I beg you will do me the honor of informing me this very instant."
"I am about to do so, Sire."
"Well?"
"This is it: I suggest that Your Majesty at once abdicate the throne and give the Orb to
the House of the Dragon, accepting that the Cycle has turned and the House of the Phoenix has honorably fulfilled its destiny."
His Majesty stared at her, as if unable to believe what he had heard. Meanwhile, Sethra continued speaking as coolly as if she were explaining to His Majesty the best weather in which to hunt the brightbird.
"I have reached agreement with His Highness Lord Adron that, should Your Majesty agree to step down as Emperor, he will at once step down as Dragon Heir, so that no rebel will sit upon the throne, which I know may cause Your Majesty some concern. Moreover—"
"That will do," cried His Majesty. The Orb was a bright, pulsating red—so bright, in fact, that Khaavren found that he was squinting against its glare. The Emperor's hands gripped the ornate gold filigree on the arms of the throne, and Khaavren, though he was behind His Majesty, could imagine the flared nostrils, and the eyes that managed to widen and narrow at the same time.
"You dare," said His Majesty. "You dare to suggest that I—that I step down from the throne? That the way to treat with rebels is to give in to their demands? And to give in, moreover, when I have the power to crush them? You dare to suggest that I will be so weak, so cowardly, as to run from the first hint of trouble in the realm? You dare to say that the rebel will be willing—willing—to relinquish his claim, when with a single order I can cause him to relinquish his head?"
Sethra remained mute; the Emperor continued.
"And come to that, Sethra Lavode, are you aware that I can perform this same service for you and your companion? What you have suggested amounts to treason—can you give me a reason why you should not both be arrested forthwith?"
Khaavren, standing behind the throne and reckoning that he could, by stripping the Palace of everyone with a guard post and emptying the Sub-wing of the Red Boot Battalion, have produced perhaps a score of guardsmen, could have found several good reasons why Sethra Lavode and Aliera e'Kieron ought not to be arrested just at that moment, but, as he was not asked for his opinion, he did not venture to speak.
Sethra said, "I had expected no other answer from Your Majesty, wherefore I am not disappointed."