The Emperor

by Norman, John;

  “I hear no swarmings, nor cries of battle,” said Otto.

  “They have demonstrated their power,” said Iaachus, “and are uncertain of our resources. Their next step will be one of cunning, a recourse to deception, doubtless a pretense to parley.”

  “Dear Tuvo,” said Otto. “Use the side passage, and the interior ascents, if they are practical. Some walls must stand. See if the observation ports are unblocked.”

  Tuvo Ausonius withdrew from the throne room.

  “I smell smoke,” said Titus Gelinus.

  “The approach corridor will have been demolished,” said Iaachus. “The anterior façade will be gone, the balcony of address will be collapsed. Much will be rubble. The architraves, pylons, gates, and vaults of a thousand years will be a shambles.”

  “Such things may be rebuilt, to last a new thousand years,” said Otto.

  “Iaachus weeps,” marveled Julian.

  “No,” said Iaachus, angrily. “It is penetrant dust, the stinging of particles of smoke.”

  At that point a long, thin, piercing note was heard, which carried even to the throne room.

  “They lose little time,” said Iaachus.

  “What is the sound?” said Otto. “I think it speaks not of the charge.”

  “It is the herald’s trumpet,” said Iaachus.

  “A parley then,” said Titus Gelinus.

  “Let them wait,” said Iaachus. “This may lure them into expending another cartridge, perhaps two.”

  “Rather,” said Otto, “let us appear eager for some truce, over which we might haggle and dally, thus purchasing time.”

  “Time for what?” asked Iaachus.

  “Only fools rush to death,” said Julian.

  “Fanatics hurry to the table of Karch,” said Iaachus.

  “And they will know no disappointment,” said Julian.

  “For they will be at the table of Karch?” asked Iaachus.

  “For they will be dead,” said Julian.

  “Idiots are useful,” said Iaachus. “What tyrant would choose to dispense with them?”

  “The curtain of the future is not yet drawn,” said Otto.

  “It never is,” said Iaachus.

  “Yet tomorrow becomes today,” said Otto.

  “If they have the purloined Turona cartridges, three more firings would put us at their mercy,” said Julian.

  “I think so,” said Otto.

  At this point once more blared the herald’s trumpet.

  Tuvo Ausonius reappeared in the throne room. “Walls are muchly intact,” he said. “Most ports, those examined, are clear. Ruination is muchly confined to the great portal and the façade giving on to the square. The balcony of address is crumbled. Tumbled masonry rears, heaped upon the broad stairs and the vantage porch. In the square a small party of civilians, attended by Floonian clergy, holds aloft the life flag, with its shimmering green, the color of mercy, and peace.”

  “So truce is offered,” said Titus Gelinus.

  “Or seems to be offered,” said Iaachus.

  “In this I see the hand of Sidonicus,” said Julian, “the pretense of conciliation and compassion, staged for the consumption of the Floonian faithful.”

  “Much more,” said Iaachus, “who would not prefer deception to danger, toil, and blood? Falsity is useless if it does not masquerade as truth. Generous terms will be offered, only to be soon rescinded and betrayed. Diplomacy is often the prelude to murder. A lie is a most significant weapon.”

  “Only if the lie is believed,” said Otto.

  “True,” said Julian.

  “But let the lie seem to be believed,” said Otto, “that we may turn it to our advantage.”

  “Thus let lies clash,” said Iaachus.

  “Are Sidonicus, exarch of Telnar, or Ingeld, prince of the Drisriaks, visible?” asked Otto.

  “No,” said Tuvo Ausonius. “I do not think so. I see no exarchical purple, I do not see one who is clearly in the trappings of the Drisriaks.”

  “They are wise to remain out of range,” said Julian.

  “One in the lesser purple, one of the high clergy, is in evidence,” said Tuvo.

  “That would be Fulvius, the deputy exarch,” said Iaachus.

  “Sidonicus is willing to risk him,” said Otto.

  “The exarch is content to risk others,” said Iaachus.

  “It is a skill of his,” said Julian, “one improved by much practice.”

  “Is Fulvius, if it be he,” asked Otto, “first before the flag?”

  “No,” said Tuvo Ausonius. “He is not paramount. Prominent rather is a seeming barbarian, one of small stature and crooked frame.”

  “I think I know him,” said Otto.

  Again the trumpet blared.

  “It is the third note,” said Iaachus.

  “That is of purport?” asked Otto.

  “I fear so,” said Iaachus. “If it be ignored, onslaught will ensue.”

  “Then,” said Otto, “we shall respond without delay. Open the subgate in the guard door.”

  “Remain here,” said Julian. “I will go.”

  “I will go,” said Titus Gelinus. “I am envoy to the senate.”

  “I am known, and will be recognized,” said Iaachus.

  “Who would trust you?” asked Julian.

  “Send me,” said Tuvo Ausonius. “I am least here. My loss would be politically negligible.”

  To the side, kneeling, Sesella, his slave, cried out in protest, and then, frowned upon, trembling and weeping, put her head to the tiles.

  “Not negligible to all,” said Otto.

  “Do not go!” said Julian.

  “I have seized the throne, I am chieftain of the Wolfungs, I am king of the Otungs, I am first in the Vandal nation,” said Otto.

  The men stepped aside, and Otto, unattended, made his way through the narrow subgate.

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  “It is impossible!” screamed Sidonicus.

  “It is true,” said Fulvius. “The premises have been examined, in detail. The palace is deserted.”

  “It cannot be,” said Sidonicus.

  “After the third blast the guard doors were melted from their hinges. The palace keep, the throne room, was ours,” said Fulvius.

  “And empty,” said Buthar.

  “The rooms and adjacent corridors were searched,” said Fulvius, “all rooms, store rooms, the great library, reception chambers, banquet halls, closets, the royal quarters, accommodations for guests and dignitaries, guards’ quarters, servants’ housings, slave pens and cages, everything, all empty.”

  “What of blackened skeletons, charred bodies, scattered limbs, surfaces disfigured with dried, brittle cakes of shed blood?” asked Sidonicus.

  “Nothing,” said Grissus.

  “I will not have it so,” said Sidonicus. “What is destruction without carnage? Surely this mockery is not the visage of victory. Where is the foe, butchered, or chained, at our feet? Why is he not in custody, marked for execution? Why is he not shackled in the quarries or laboring in the damp and cold of the mines? Is conquest hollow?”

  “Please, blessed Holiness,” said Fulvius, “let the storms of your discontent subside. Let the contentment of Karch and the sweet peace of Floon attend you.”

  “Fool,” hissed Sidonicus.

  “Your Holiness?” inquired Fulvius.

  “Save such mindless, pattering drivel for the simple,” said Sidonicus.

  “Forgive me, your Holiness,” said Fulvius. “I meant no harm, or disrespect. I accept, as I must, and as is fitting, your well-­deserved rebuke, but I assure you nonetheless that there is little to justify your agitation or disappointment. The victory is ours. Success is clear, and complete. The prize is won. The guerdon is seized. Resistance is ab
sent. Even now Prince Ingeld moves to occupy the palace.”

  “Bring me a sweet,” said Sidonicus.

  “It has been four days,” had said Sidonicus, earlier.

  “I have done as you asked,” had said Urta. “Four times in four days I have addressed the foe, following the trumpet of parley, he, the usurper himself, standing atop the rubble of masonry strewn upon the vantage porch and steps leading to the palace, and, as you directed, three times in three days, sweetened the terms of the truce, and he has withdrawn again and again, supposedly to consult with his colleagues, only to return with more cavils or amendments.”

  “My patience is not infinite,” said Sidonicus. “The cable of my renowned forbearance is strained. It grows taut.”

  “The vile Otung has no intention of accepting any terms, even amnesty, riches, and the empire itself, were it offered,” snarled Ingeld.

  “That is hard to believe,” said Fulvius.

  “You are not Otung, or Drisriak,” said Ingeld.

  “You deem him insane?” asked Fulvius.

  “I deem him perceptive,” said Ingeld.

  “Surely he will, sooner or later, rely on the pledge of the exarch, the sworn oath of his Holiness, according him protection and safe-conduct,” said Fulvius.

  “Would you?” asked Ingeld.

  “Who could anticipate,” said Fulvius, “that the pledge of the exarch, uttered in all integrity, proffered in all openness and honesty, would be abrogated by a senatorial dictate?”

  “I find it hard to believe that the people will accept such blatant treachery,” said Ingeld.

  “They will accept it,” said Urta. “It will be a ruling of the senate. It will be legal. Who will go against the law? Law makes all things possible.”

  “But Safarius is missing,” said Buthar, he, as Grissus, in fee to Sidonicus. “Was it not he who was to arrange for the senate to reject the truce, deeming it unauthorized?”

  “Once the Otung had accepted terms, and surrendered, thus clearing the way for his detention and destruction,” said Grissus.

  “Of course,” said Buthar.

  “Where is the primarius of the senate, worthy Timon Safarius Rhodius?” asked Fulvius.

  “Disappeared,” said Sidonicus.

  “We must then choose another,” said Fulvius. “Second in the senate is Clearchus Pyrides, of Inez IV.”

  “I do not trust him,” said Sidonicus.

  “He is said to be honest,” said Urta.

  “And is thus not to be trusted,” said Sidonicus.

  “How then shall we proceed?” asked Fulvius.

  “The senate is a tool,” said Sidonicus. “We can choose another to wield that tool. Ambitious hypocrites and groveling sycophants abound.”

  “I think,” said Ingeld, “we have overestimated the power of the Otung. Were his resources as rich as we initially feared, he would not have pretended to participate in negotiations, but might have destroyed half of Telnar. I doubt that he has more than a dozen charges left.”

  “Then he is finished,” said Buthar.

  “Why then does he prolong the farce of negotiation?” asked Fulvius.

  “Surely to postpone the inevitable,” said Ingeld.

  “How many charges have we, from the Turona,” asked Sidonicus.

  “Three are left,” said Buthar.

  “Maximum charges, rifle charges,” said Grissus.

  “Buthar,” said Sidonicus, “how many charges will it require to open the palace?”

  “One, perhaps two,” had said Buthar.

  “Use three,” had said Sidonicus.

  “Here, your Holiness,” said Fulvius, “is your sweet.”

  “Prince Ingeld,” said Sidonicus, “moves to occupy the palace?”

  “As we speak,” said Fulvius.

  “I trust that the plans for the coronation of the royal child, the supposed son of Ingeld and the Princess Viviana, are in readiness,” said Sidonicus.

  “Yes, and have been for days,” said Fulvius. “On the day of the coronation Prince Ingeld will accede to the regency.”

  “The Princess died in childbirth,” said Sidonicus.

  “The public lamentations have it so,” said Fulvius.

  “Expediency is the coin of public truth,” said Sidonicus.

  “Indeed,” said Fulvius.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  “I have used the tunnel often, to depart the palace and traverse the city,” said Otto.

  “Emerging in the dark of night,” said Julian.

  “We shared such adventures,” said Otto.

  “Fortunate that the house of the senate is empty,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

  “It is not in session,” said Iaachus.

  “Who would think of looking for us here?” said Julian.

  “It was not practical to move fugitives, slaves, and prisoners far,” said Otto. “So large a group, several in number, would surely be quickly noted. And fortunately our fellow, Gelinus, as envoy to the senate, possessed the access combinations to enter the house surreptitiously by means of one of the secret entrances, a discreet convenience, designed for private comings and goings.”

  “Ingeld will move quickly, to have the mysterious child, he alleged to be the son of the Princess Viviana, proclaimed emperor, and will then assume the regency,” said Titus Gelinus.

  “There will be a coronation,” said Iaachus. “Sidonicus will insist upon it. It will be a part of his scheme of things.”

  “From here, across the square, to the side, we can see the palace,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

  “Perhaps we can then see the processions of the intended coronation,” said Otto. “Surely they will assemble at the palace, to proceed to the great temple.”

  “Sidonicus, in his scheme of things, will preach that the sanction of the temple, his temple, and no other, is required for the crowning of the emperor, thus subordinating the crown to the temple,” said Iaachus.

  “Many are the paths to power,” said Titus Gelinus.

  “And some are subtler and more sinister than others,” said Julian.

  “The most dangerous foe to society and the state, to justice and freedom,” said Titus Gelinus, “is a foe not noted, a foe not recognized, an invisible foe.”

  “It will not end there,” said Iaachus. “The temple will drain and expropriate populations; it will close schools; it will train and narrow minds; it will, with righteous, unquestioned zeal, force a single faith on diverse communities and utilize the state to exterminate or exile dissidents; it will rule through terror, guilt, and the obedient, secular sword; it will even threaten and intimidate rulers; it will claim the right to absolve citizens of their obligations and duties to them; it will erode loyalties and sever ties essential to civil order; it will unleash anarchy and use confusion and chaos as a weapon; it will generate civil strife; it will depose kings and subvert thrones.”

  Those gathered in the deliberation chamber, in the semicircular well at the foot of the tiers, were then silent.

  The sound of a wagon passing by could be heard.

  “It is morning,” said Julian.

  “We cannot stay here indefinitely,” said Titus Gelinus. “Workers will come.”

  “Water and supplies brought from the palace will be soon exhausted,” said Iaachus.

  “Is the empress mother suitably situated?” asked Otto.

  “In one of the robing rooms,” said Tuvo Ausonius. “She insisted on being returned immediately to the palace.”

  “You explained to her the inadvisability of that, I trust,” said Otto.

  “Yes,” said Tuvo Ausonius, “torture, dismemberment, being cast as garbage into a carnarium, and such.”

  “Did such considerations alter her view?” inquired Otto.

  “She agreed to give the matter further
thought,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

  “And what of young Aesilesius?” asked Otto.

  “He crouches in the senate library, against a wall, whining, confused, shuddering, sputum dribbling from his mouth, being cared for by the small, red-haired beauty, Nika, his slave.”

  “I see,” said Otto.

  “Many of us are sorry for her, though she is a slave,” said Tuvo Ausonius. “How miserable for her, a vital, lovely slave, well-curved and doubtless worth many darins, to be assigned so onerous a duty, essentially to be caged with a monstrosity, a man’s body inhabited by the mind of a feckless, short-tempered, irresponsible, unpredictable child. Relieve her of her duties, before she is driven mad, or at least assign others to lighten her labors and share her miseries.”

  “Sesella, for example?” asked Otto.

  “Be it, I beg you, as though I had said nothing,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

  “You have said nothing,” said Otto.

  “Thank you, your highness,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

  “I deem the present arrangement satisfactory,” said Otto.

  “It is eminently so,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

  “I fear you have shown solicitude for a slave,” said Otto, “first for the slave, Nika, and then for the slave, Sesella.”

  “A lapse, two lapses, your highness,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

  “What of the prisoners, Safarius, primarius of the senate, and faithless, handsome Corelius?” asked Otto.

  “Both chained in a storeroom, apart from one another,” said Ausonius, “under the guard of Boris and Andak.”

  “Excellent,” said Otto.

  “I fear Safarius is losing his mind,” said Ausonius. “He fears he is to be done away with. He is going mad. He claims he is to be poisoned. He lives in terror of being poisoned. It is a madness with him. He refuses to eat until his guards prove to him that his simple provender, each meal, is free of toxins.”

  “I thought him of sterner stuff,” said Otto.

  “He evinced signs of this dementia even in the palace,” said Ausonius.

  “What of the slaves?” asked Otto.

  “Confined in a cloak room, and ordered to silence,” said Ausonius.