The Aether of Night

by Sanderson, Brandon

  He said that half of mankind had followed one of the Twins, and that half had followed the other, Raeth thought. That they had been given gifts. Opposites.

  Maybe Raeth was worrying about nothing. The Patriarch had implied that there was no real reason to assume that the attack from the north meant the End of Time. Maybe they were overreacting.

  Overreacting to a group of seemingly-invincible dark warriors that had risen from a black pool to attack the Imperium. Somehow, Raeth doubted it was possible to overreact to such an event.

  “Tarrinon,” Raeth said, standing up straight. “What is my schedule for tomorrow?”

  “You only have one appointment, my lord,” the short man replied. “The Senate vote on whether or not you should be given control of the armies.” Tarrinon paused. “Though, after that I suppose there is a battle you’ll want to attend.”

  #

  “You will vote for the Emperor,” a harsh voice whispered.

  Laene jumped, letting out a quiet yelp of surprise. His chambers were dark, and he was in his sleeping clothes. His first inclination was to call for his guards, but he held back. Not only did he fear getting discovered with his…visitor, but he doubted the creature would let him do such a thing.

  Laene turned slowly. He had been tired, and had just barely climbed into his bed. All feelings of fatigue evaporated, however, as he scanned the room around him. His bed chamber was large and filled with shadows; the only light came from a mostly-shielded lantern on the nightstand. He stared nervously out into the pool of night that surrounded him and reached reflexively for the lantern.

  A bit of the darkness broke free from the far side of the room, trickling toward him, forming into long tendrils. Laene shied back as the tendrils wrapped his lantern, choking off its light and making the darkness absolute.

  “What do you want?” Laene asked, his voice choked with fear.

  “The Emperor has scheduled a vote in the Senate tomorrow,” the scratchy voice said from the gloom. “You will make certain that vote succeeds.”

  “The vote?” Laene asked, losing a bit of his fear as he thought of the request. “But, it is a vote to restore martial autonomy to the Throne. Hern is an idiot; if we give him control of the military, he’ll lead it to destruction!”

  “Exactly,” the voice whispered.

  Laene paused, still shivering slightly from fear. To give Hern control of the military…it would be suicide for the Imperium. He had followed the darkness’ suggestions in the past, but never had he done so against his conscience. This…this could be considered treasonous.

  No, Laene, he thought. You’d just be voting in favor of your Emperor. There’s nothing wrong with that. It would be an expression of solidarity, nothing more.

  “You will see that Verdant and Ferrous vote for him as well,” the voice commanded.

  “It will be difficult,” Laene said slowly. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could begin to make out his visitor’s shape. As he studied the darkness, he almost wished he hadn’t looked. He saw a large, inhuman form with multiple trunk-like legs and a massive lump for a body. He shrank back despite himself.

  “Do you wish to take your proper place, first child of Verdant?” the voice asked. “The Throne? Do you want it?”

  Despite the fear and the discomfort, Laene knew the answer to this question. “Yes,” he whispered.

  “Then do as I say.” With that, the creature vanished, melding back into the darkness from whence it has come.

  Laene slept very little that night.

  Chapter Thirteen

  D’Naa sat uncomfortably on her seat on the Senate house’s third tier. She felt out of place amongst the other dignitaries, as if her ruralness somehow showed through her fashionable new dress and quiet bearing. The Shorriken King sat a few seats down from her, a small plump man surrounded by dozens of aids. Just two seats to the other side sat Halaa, the Mahallen queen. She looked much like her daughter, who sat next to her, though the mother was more aged and far more conservatively dressed. The other brides were seated in various places through the two-hundred or so seats, joining others of their Line or race. The Kavir contingent was by far the smallest in the group, containing only D’Naa and her grandparents. The Kavir ambassadors, Shiin and Kle’D, sat below on the main tier, with the rest of the Senators.

  D’Naa shot a quick glance at Nahan, frowning slightly. The woman’s decision to stop wearing her hoops had caused quite a stir amongst the brides. Most gave the claim little credence—they assumed that Nahan was bluffing, that she hadn’t really gone to the Emperor’s bed. D’Naa, however, had information they didn’t.

  Well, at least he’s living up to his reputation, D’Naa thought angrily. She knew it was silly, but she’d tried to convince herself that there was some logical reason why she’d caught Nahan in Hern’s rooms. After all, the Mahallen women were known for their wolf-like ability to pursue men.

  Nahan’s assertions, however, were too much to ignore. D’Naa had to face reality—she’d actually seen the woman standing naked in Hern’s embrace. Wasn’t that enough? And, even after it, he’d tried to seduce D’Naa with a kiss.

  Except…it hasn’t been a kiss of seduction. As stupid a move as it had been, D’Naa had felt spontaneity, even honesty, in the kiss. She knew she was probably trying to read too much into it. She knew what kind of person Hern was.

  One thing, however, confused her. Why hadn’t he turned her in? So much time had passed, yet Hern had said nothing. He hadn’t turned her in, and he hadn’t demanded anything from her in exchange for keeping her secret. He acted as if nothing had happened.

  It didn’t make sense, and it left her frustrated. What did he expect from her? She saw him enter, and sight of his arrogant, High Aedin form only made her more surly. She’d barely let her grandfather persuade her to attend the day’s hearings—she felt like avoiding any place where she would be forced to look at Hern. Still, Hlin claimed the day’s vote would be an extremely important one, and the truth was that there was little else to do. As beautiful as the city was, walking its streets and markets was beginning to lose some of its charm, now that over two weeks had passed. Watching the Senate proceedings was bound to be more interesting.

  Hern didn’t sit on the speaking dais as he had the last time she’d visited the Senate building, but instead too a seat on the main tier, in a chair set off from the Senators. As usual, he was the last one to arrive, and the room began to quiet as soon as he took his place.

  “What is this vote about again?” D’Naa asked quietly to her grandfather.

  “It’s a vote of martial autonomy,” Hlin whispered back. “Two weeks ago, just after Emperor Hern took the throne, the War Counsel slipped command of the Imperium’s armies away from him. Apparently, he’s finally realized what they did, and he’s trying to assumed command.”

  D’Naa nodded slowly. Despite the sick feeling seeing Hern gave her, she was glad she had come. Living in Kavir gave her little opportunity to experience true politics. Each of the sub-kingdoms were allowed their own system of government, and Kavir used a far less complicated method of rule. Ala’D was king, and everyone did what he said. Here in Aedinor, however, even the smallest towns were said to have senates and politicians.

  It seemed odd to her that the man everyone called Emperor could so easily be deprived of his military authority, and even odder that he had to go to such lengths to get it back. However, her grandfather had taught that the Senate brought the Imperium stability. The idea of representation did what no military force could, it kept the various peoples of the Imperium—especially the Mahallens and Khurs—from rebelling.

  Or, at least, that was the theory. Apparently, both of the Khur Senators had sent letters of abstention from the day’s voting. The move had created a great deal of speculation in the court—according to her grandfather it was all people were talking about. Besides Nahan’s breasts, that was.

  Laene, the squat High Senator, rose from his seat and took his pla
ce at the front podium. “We begin the day’s hearings with a vote to remove martial autonomy from the War Counsel and revest authority in the Imperial Throne. As the Emperor was the one to put forward this motion, we will now give him an opportunity to speak. Emperor Hern.”

  Hern got up to speak, stepping up to the podium. The sight of him only rekindled D’Naa’s anger. Does he really expect us to all faun over him, even when it’s obvious he’s using us? She wondered as Hern began to speak.

  The problem was, she knew the answer to her own question. Yes, he did expect them to faun over him, and rightfully so. They were, after all, his Bride Offerings. They were little more than gifts that had been put forward for him to play with. In the end, he could only choose one, but why not enjoy them all until that day came? That was, after all, what the Aedin were supposed to be like. Arrogant and egotistical, with Hern being their most ideal member.

  He annoyed her so much, in fact, that she purposefully ignored most of his speech. He said something about the Imperium needing a single, firm ruler, and the necessity of making use of all of their resources.

  As he spoke, however, she took the opportunity to study him with an honest eye. He was proving far more subtle than she had been led to believe. She listened to the court gossip, and everyone was surprisingly impressed with his rule so far.

  He was clever, that was certain. He managed to project an air of confidence without seeming arrogant. At the same time, there was a sincerity to his voice—an ingenuousness that couldn’t be found in most politicians. The same sincerity he had projected for her, at the ball.

  It had to be a sham, of course. However, he was a brilliant actor. At the end of the speech, even D’Naa found her anger abating slightly. Soon afterward, the voting began. The first vote went to the High Senator. He stood and, with a loud voice, proclaimed himself in favor of restoring military power to the Throne.

  D’Naa heard a hush of whispers flow through the people around her. “What?” she asked, leaning over to her grandfather.

  “The High Senator is from the Verdant Line,” Hlin explained as the voting proceeded. “He’s said to be the Emperor’s political opponent. And, since he votes first, most expected the voting to go against Lord Hern. But, since he voted in favor… .”

  D’Naa nodded, understanding. All five Verdant Senators voted in favor of Hern. “What does he need to win?”

  “Eighty percent,” Hlin explained. “Twenty-four Senators. With two abstentions, that’s going to be difficult.”

  Difficult indeed. All five Amberite Senators voted for him, of course, as did the four Bestarin Senators. The four Ferrous Senators, however, split—two for, two against. Another oddity; as she remembered, Ferrous was also supposed to side against Amberite.

  D’Naa looked down at the floor, where Hern sat watching the voting with a concerned face. He cringed, his eyes growing increasingly worried as the last two Ferrous Senators stood and delivered their votes.

  He can’t possibly be that good of an actor, can he? She thought curiously. He certainly did look sincere.

  The Shorriken Senators voted next. They split as well, one against and two for. If two more Senators voted against Hern, the motion would be denied.

  D’Naa was actually growing interested. She leaned down, watching the voting proceed—and as she did so, she caught Hern’s eyes. He was looking directly up at her. As she met his eyes, D’Naa realized something.

  I can give him this vote. The Kavir senators had yet to cast their opinions, but her grandfather said they planned to vote against the motion. But if I do so, will it give me an advantage over him? He knows my secret, yet he hasn’t said anything.

  She could see the plea in his eyes. A deal? Or was she reading too much into it? Quietly, she cursed herself—like most of her people, she had no patience for politics. She could, however, recognize an opportunity when she saw one.

  She intolerantly waved a Shorriken paged over to her. “Go speak with the Kavir Senators,” she said. “Tell them that I would consider it a great favor to me if they would vote in favor of the Emperor.”

  “Yes, my lady,” the aid said, scuttling away.

  He moved too slowly, however. The first Kavir Senator, Shiin, stood. “To be honest,” he said loudly, “I am amazed at the way this vote is proceeding. Our beloved Emperor is a fine leader, but he is untried in battle. I thought that was why we took martial power from him in the first place. I vote against the motion.”

  He sat down and his companion, the younger Kle’D, stood. As he opened his mouth, however, D’Naa’s aid rushed up to him and whispered in his ear. His face grew surprised, and he shot a glance upward, at D’Naa. She nodded, suddenly feeling embarrassed. She was meddling in areas where she had little experience.

  “I…vote in favor of the motion,” he said, sounding a little surprised at himself. When he sat down, the elder Shiin immediately turned to him and said something far to quiet to be heard. His face, however, was angry enough to make his emotions clear.

  What did I just do? D’Naa thought, sitting back in her chair. Had he just manipulated her, or had she him? Would her vote give her leverage, or would he forget it now that the moment had passed?

  Reflexively, she glanced down at him. There seemed to be sincere appreciation in his eyes—even thankfulness. Somehow, D’Naa suspected he had gotten the better of her, but what else could she do? He knew her secret. He could probably order her execution for treason, or at the least have her murdered in her sleep.

  The Mahallen Senators began voting and, to the apparent surprise of those around her, they all came up in favor of Hern. Eventually, only one vote remained, that of a middle-aged Senator who wore an elaborate head-dress.

  “Rall Hannin,” Hlin whispered. “The only King who sits on the Senate. This should be interesting—everyone expected this vote to be a horrible defeat for the Emperor. Now it appears he might actually win it. Depending, of course, on how Rall Hannin votes.”

  The Mahallen king sat quietly, a musing look on his face. D’Naa could practically see the sweat running down Hern’s face.

  “I’m afraid that our Kavir Senator did have a point,” Rall Hannin said, rubbing his short-bearded chin. “Our Emperor is relatively untested. I’m hesitant to give him so much power to him blindly.”

  “What is your vote, your highness?” Laene said, standing at the front of the room.

  Rall Hannin didn’t respond immediately. There was a slight smile on his face, as if he enjoyed the tension in the room.

  “I propose a compromise, High Senator,” Rall Hannin finally declared. “I would like to delay my vote until this evening, until after we give our new Emperor a chance to prove himself during today’s battle. Let us assume that we invested him with the power for now, at least. Once the battle is finished, we can make that transfer permanent. Or, in the case of a disaster, we can choose otherwise.”

  Laene stood thoughtfully for a moment. “Does anyone have an objection to the Mahallen king’s suggestion?”

  The room fell quiet.

  “Very well then,” Laene declared. “Irregular though it may be, there are no rules stipulating that Lord Rall Hannin has to vote immediately. As long as we take no further votes this day, he may wait to decide. Let us dismiss to the Counsel Room.”

  #

  “I thought you said you’d support me,” Raeth said, trying not to sound accusatory as he hurried up behind Rall Hannin. Around them, Senators were leaving the senate hall and climbing aboard Corpates.

  The tall Mahallen man turned, a look of slight amusement on his face. “I told you that En Mahall would support you. And, as a sub-kingdom, we did. Four of the five Mahallen Senators voted for you, a strong majority.”

  “But the one that counted did not,” Raeth replied, speaking quietly as people filed out of the building around them. Up ahead over two dozen Corpate walkers waited to transport the Senators to the Counsel room.

  Rall Hannin smiled. “All of the votes counted, your majest
y. If just one of us had voted differently, you wouldn’t even have this chance.”

  “If one more had voted for me, I wouldn’t be so worried,” Raeth challenged.

  “I didn’t turn you down, either,” Rall Hannin said. “Let us just say that I did it for your own good, your majesty.”

  Raeth frowned.

  “The voting went too easily,” the Mahallen said, his dark-skinned face speculative as he turned his eyes toward the exiting Senators. He focused, Raeth noticed, on a group of High Aedin in green cloaks. “To be honest, your majesty, I didn’t expect you to win this vote, and neither did anyone else. I suspect that some of the Senators—especially those who consider themselves allies to your Line—are rethinking their votes.”

  Raeth paused. “I don’t quite understand,” he confessed.

  Rall Hannin turned back toward Raeth. “Votes like this one—votes that everyone assumes will fail—are popular in the Senate. Those who wanted to cur favor with the Throne could vote for you to show Solidarity, but not have to worry about the consequences of their actions, since the vote is assumed dead from the beginning.”

  Raeth’s stomach turned slightly. “You mean you think I won on a fluke?” he asked. “They were all trying curry favor, and the voting got away from them?”

  “No,” Rall Hannin corrected. “Only the borderline votes would have gone with you simply to cure favor. Your enemies still should have voted against you. That is the truly disconcerting part.”

  Raeth followed the Mahallen King’s gaze again, watching as Laene and the others loaded onto a Corpate. “You think he’s up to something?”

  “This is the Senate, your majesty,” Rall Hannin said with a smile. “We’re all up to something.” He turned walk from the room. “Come now—I really am interested to see how you do. Assuming you acquit yourself well—and, I presume you will, since you have the Counsel to aid you—you will allay any fears the Senate might have in your competency.”