by J. C. Owens
Over time, he was quietly reading some of the texts that Taldan had offered him. The writings of the long line of Chosen brought more concern than comfort. They all seemed so different than him. Not to mention that Taldan was so unique in his views and actions. He was like no emperor who had come before him. Would that force Raine to carve a new niche among the Chosen for himself? Could he do that?
He blew out a frustrated breath, his thoughts whipsawing back to the attack on Bhantan. There was nothing he could do regarding the invasion spurred by his brothers. It had happened. Taldan had sent the army to hunt them down as well as sending Isnay with ships to give aid to Bhantan’s king. There were other political complications he was worried about, and he could sense Taldan’s concern about them as well.
Bhantan had been a peaceful kingdom, with no standing army to speak of. Raine believed in peace, admired the Bhantan way of life, but he could not accept that they had no protections for their people. If they had even put a small army in the field, it might have delayed Odenar’s advance enough for Anrodnes to come to their aid.
Taldan had been more curt in his assessment.
“Blind fools,” he had stated coldly. “Peace comes at a cost, and blindness availed them nothing but death.”
Raine was also concerned with how this was going to reflect upon Anrodnes and her new emperor. Would other countries see this event as revealing a weakness within the empire? That the empire could no longer hold sway over its own outer territories?
Such views could lead to attacks from without and certainly within. More than one empire had fallen in this manner, and he didn’t want his bloodline to be the cause of a collapse that could see the education, laws, and medical advancements disappear into obscurity. Already there had been the attack during Taldan’s ascension, when a Julne mage candidate had killed the first Chosen in a possible attempt to steal the Illumitae. That attack had rocked the empire, from the Shadows down to the commoners.
Raine paced for several more minutes before seating himself at the table with a sigh of exhaustion. It did not help that he was not sleeping at night. He could not sleep. He had been given his own room adjoining Taldan’s, but he was unable to relax, constantly listening for Taldan to come to his room and demand his body or for a call to come to the other room instead. It was not a call he feared. No, it was something he desired, and yet…
That such a call for him to do his duty and yield his body to the emperor as his Chosen had not come was concerning. Taldan had not taken him or indulged in pleasure since their first, wonderful, unforgettable night together. Raine feared it was because he was a poor excuse for a Chosen. A Chosen taken only in a desperate attempt to save Taldan’s life. Raine still had nightmares of seeing Taldan’s first Chosen brutally murdered in the vicious attempt on the emperor’s life. He feared Taldan was not pleased with him…and if that was the truth, it would crush Raine’s heart.
It was just that Raine wanted something more, something like he read about in ballads and romantic tales. A person would have to be blind not to notice how beautiful the newly crowned emperor was. Was it wrong for Raine to want a place in Taldan’s heart as well?
Perhaps it was pure foolishness on his part. He had heard the whispers, the rumors, about Taldan and Hredeen.
Yet Hredeen himself had told Raine that Raine would be the Chosen. If the concubine had been here for all these years, why couldn’t he have become the Chosen? It all made no sense. Had the man known what Taldan’s reaction would be upon learning Hredeen was far more than he seemed? Had he known that he would be cast out?
Raine couldn’t get the memory of Hredeen’s devastated expression out of his thoughts. It was obvious that he loved Taldan completely. Yet Raine was no naive youth to believe that love magically healed everything. Sometimes, people were simply not meant to be together.
Yet Raine felt strongly that Hredeen’s separation from Taldan was wrong. He suspected Hredeen’s exile was why Taldan sometimes seemed to struggle for control of his emotions, to reach that place of calm, intellectual detachment he’d had before the ascension.
He sighed in frustration. It was all so convoluted and confusing and painful that he always pushed it away after a while of musing. It just gave him a headache and no insight into how this might be fixed, if it even could. But he knew he had to be strong for Taldan. He wanted to heal the man’s heart. Raine wanted to fix all these wrongs that had happened since he had come to the palace.
He feared that he had become a curse for Taldan. A curse on the empire, the emperor, and all who served them both. He’d only ever wanted to do the right thing…and now his brothers had risen up in rebellion, Hredeen had been cast out, and there had been an attempt on Taldan’s life…
Raine knew he desperately needed to do something to make everything right again.
He glanced over at Taldan where he stood staring outward toward the far distant mountains.
Toward where Hredeen had disappeared.
* * *
Taldan
Taldan stayed up late that night, working at his desk though his mind was shamefully flighty. He didn’t want to return to his rooms. Raine was there.
He didn’t blame, couldn’t blame Raine for this mess. He was proving to be an asset in a way that Taldan had never even envisioned, much less expected. The young man had an uncanny knack of anticipating issues before they even occurred. Taldan counted himself adept at foreseeing problems, but Raine took such a thing to a new level. Perhaps a product of his childhood. Intuition, Hredeen would have called it, something that he had had considerable talent in.
He put a hand over his chest at the shaft of pain that shot through him at the thought of Hredeen.
Several times, he had found himself heading for the harem, absentmindedly planning to tell Hredeen…
Each time, the realization that the concubine was long gone took his breath away and crushed down on his chest like a boulder. He had driven Hredeen away. He had cast him out. The pain of that had even soured his relationship with his current Chosen. Everything seemed tainted by his own pain. After his ascension to emperor, things were supposed to become easier. He had always thought that he would achieve mastery over his emotions once and for all…
But exactly the opposite had happened.
He gritted his teeth now, pushed away the foolishness. He had done what was right to send Hredeen away for his dishonesty. His…betrayal. There were enough courtiers who could not discern truth in their best moments, much less in the daily workings of the court. He did not need another liar, and certainly not one whom he had trusted so implicitly.
He lied. That consideration ran through his thoughts like a mantra. A painful, self-destroying litany.
The soft knock on the door frame made him slowly look up, his responses slowed by exhaustion and mental stress. The weight of the mask, the weight of all it represented, dragged him into depression.
How wonderful that he could make his own diagnosis, he thought bitterly.
He blinked, bewildered to find Sarnwa standing before him.
He had seen little of his father or Sarnwa, his father’s Chosen, since the ascension. The only time spent together with Demarin was during the council meetings as consequences were discussed, plans made for the Odenar war—not to mention the ongoing investigation into the mage Valsen’s motivations or accomplices in trying to murder Taldan during the ascension.
But Sarnwa had not been present at any of those meetings. Not surprising when he was a Chosen. There would be few among the imperial court who would take his input seriously, though they did not understand the role a Chosen truly played for the emperor.
Taldan frowned as he thought of Raine again and the abilities that Taldan was only beginning to discover. That talent would be invaluable when dealing with anyone from courtiers to leaders of other regions. He had been wrong about Raine. If things had been different…
He pushed aside thoughts of Raine and met Sarnwa’s familiar brown eyes. The fond
ness in their depths told him that he had not been imagining that his father’s Chosen had cared about him, felt something more than duty during Taldan’s childhood.
He swallowed hard at the memories before waving toward a chair on the other side of his desk, a comfortable, well-worn one that visitors appreciated in a palace that often was more for show than for living in.
Sarnwa smiled, a soft, barely there tilt of his lips, the skin around his eyes crinkling, the brown color warming into the fine color of whiskey.
“Your father is proud of you. He attended those meetings intending to step in, to plan things as he always has. He told me later that he didn’t need to, that between you and Raine, everything was covered, the plans for the retaking of Odenar meticulous and well thought out.”
Taldan eyed him, feeling a pang at the idea of his father being proud of anything regarding his sons. “He taught me a long time ago that seeking his whole-hearted approval was an impossible goal, an emotional distraction, and a waste of time. I did none of this to gain it.”
He was faintly surprised at the level of bitterness that bled out into the words. He had thought he had settled any remaining emotions regarding his father a long, long time ago. He had attempted to reason that the lessons learned were things that could only aid him in the future, when he would rule alone, his decisions made in isolation.
Sarnwa shook his head, his smile fading into something wistful, an edge of sadness appearing.
“Your father learned from his own sire. Be thankful the lessons Demarin gave you were not more spiteful, more cruel, than what you endured. The lessons were necessary. An emperor must have absolute control of himself at all times—”
“You need not worry,” Taldan interrupted. “I wear the mask. I received the Illumitae. I am in control.”
A shadow flickered across Sarnwa’s face, there and gone in an instant. “I did not approve of how Demarin chose to parent, but I am also aware that it could have been far, far worse. I do not defend what he did to you, I cannot, but I see where it originated. And so I understand him…and you.”
Taldan laid down his quill, gathering up a rag to clean away the ink from the tip, cursing the obstruction of the obligatory gloves. The action helped him control a small, petty part of him that wanted to rage at the thought that “it could have been worse.” Not from his perspective. Yet, with his iron control over his emotions, he kept his face impassive.
His father would’ve been impressed. Taldan had learned well.
Rebellion made him tug the stained gloves off.
“Your father is deeply scarred both from his time as emperor and during his childhood,” Sarnwa continued softly, his eyes full of sympathy. “Physically and mentally. If you could see the scars that he bears, within and without, you would, perhaps, understand a little more. Regardless, you now bear your own scars passed down from your grandfather’s methods. I hope, that in the future, you will be a more reasonable and understanding father. Train the next emperor with compassion. Break the cycle, Taldan. There is no need for the pain that Demarin, Zaran, and you have endured.”
“You are not here to speak for him? I thought that’s what your presence meant.” Taldan leaned back in the chair, eyeing the older man speculatively.
“His actions are his own. I have come to clear something else up, something that needs to be explained, so that you will have the knowledge to make reasonable decisions.” The piercing stare seemed to see through Taldan in a way that few could claim.
Taldan stiffened, uncomfortable with the idea that Sarnwa could understand him.
He was the emperor now. He had memories, knowledge, and skills that were beginning to rise within him. Each day there was a little bit more, like a massive internal library. It was fascinating. It was terrifying. He had sworn to let it come of its own accord. After all, who better than the gods to know what was best to access of the past?
But he had been having more frequent headaches since his ascension. Sometimes it felt like his head was about to burst with all the history and information packed inside it. Other times, when his own thoughts turned to Hredeen, he suddenly felt an almost overpowering urge to find him. To bring him back to the palace. To force Hredeen to see how much he’d hurt him…
He clamped down on those thoughts and pushed them aside. They were emotional and unworthy of an emperor.
Sarnwa seemed to be watching him closely, his eyes narrowed. He seemed to have more to say but was hesitant.
Taldan held his stare and nodded for Sarnwa to go on. “I’m listening.”
Yet even as he spoke those words, he mourned that he and this man had grown so far apart, when once he had felt closer to him than any other person. A part of him wanted to demand that Sarnwa explain what had happened, why he had suddenly deserted the boy Taldan had once been.
The rest of him didn’t want to hear the truth. What would it change now? Besides, he had the knowledge of past emperors inside him. He knew the good they had done…and the evil. He had memories of preparing the next emperor in the line of succession. The training was never easy, but every emperor stretching as far back as he could find within the Illumitae had felt it was necessary. That was their truth. And some truths cut deeper than knives. After all, he had learned the truth about Hredeen…
“I am of the War Guild,” Sarnwa said, his gaze never leaving Taldan.
The simple words caused Taldan’s thought processes to grind to an abrupt, complete halt. He couldn’t have heard…
“I’m an assassin, 7th level, sent by my masters to be the Chosen of your father. They had foreseen your birth, and your father was not good at looking after himself. When the wars ended, the violence becoming peace, he was lost. He was and is, a warrior, a man that exists for conflict. He led the armies of Anrodnes, using the strategy and tactics of all the conquering emperors that came before him. This is the secret of every emperor stretching back to the founding of the empire. But without the wars, your father seemed to lose his purpose. He always felt that he hadn’t tapped the true nature of the Illumitae, despite all his victories, and that haunted him. I came to ensure that he survived his years as emperor. There were paths he could have taken that would have damaged the future, according to our seers. I did not take the choices from him, only made sure that he was in his right mind when he made them.”
Taldan was struck mute. He stared, unable to process a single thought, until a stray notion wound its way into his mind.
Sarnwa was an assassin. Like Hredeen.
Sarnwa had been sent to protect his father. He could have taken that to mean there was no true feeling between them, but Taldan had seen the link between Demarin and Sarnwa, felt the fondness between them, even though they took pains to hide it from nobles and commoners alike. If he was able to delve deeper, he would almost say there was more than fondness. A deeper, more powerful emotion.
If that were so, then Hredeen…
He felt a slow-growing horror that surged into his chest and stole his breath.
If Sarnwa had genuinely come to care for Demarin far beyond his duty, then was it not possible that…?
“You were a fool to send him away.”
Sarnwa’s blunt words made Taldan gasp for air, coming back to a realization of his surroundings. He stared wide-eyed at his father’s Chosen, trying to arrange his thoughts into any sort of order that would allow him to speak.
At the moment, that seemed almost impossible.
“We have no say in where we are sent. We are slaves, bought and paid for by our own upkeep. They choose children who have nothing. This is the basis for who we become, for they work upon our minds and souls until we are theirs completely. We know nothing else. We are broken down and rebuilt into whatever form the masters deem appropriate.” Sarnwa fell silent, the look in his eyes devastating to witness. “There are many who do their duty without thought or emotion, and they are the lucky ones. Those who still hold a shred of their personality, their heart, eventually end up making a fatal
mistake that is not a mistake, merely a way to end their own existence.”
Taldan’s hands clenched upon the arms of the chair, and the wood creaked alarmingly. He was hardly able to force the words past his lips.
“And you? Where do you lie in the matter?”
Sarnwa leaned back in the chair, his large form sprawled comfortably, though there was nothing of relaxation in his expression. “I came here to die.”
Taldan forced himself to remain expressionless, to give no sign of the turmoil he felt. He remembered Sarnwa’s gentle touch when he was a child. That was not the touch of a man without thought or emotion, not the touch of an assassin, a killer.
“After the ascension, when the Illumitae bound us, I thought your father would order me executed for my deception. No War Guild assassin had ever been a Chosen, and I hid that from him, as my masters commanded, until I no longer could. In truth, I longed for it, the sweet release of death, the end of thought and pain and expectation.” He gave a small, harsh laugh that hurt to hear. “Do you know, we are raised in isolation? Each child has a keeper. Each child sees only that keeper until they reach the third level. Only then are they important enough to begin to train to blend into society, to become an actor without equal. Never is there the least bit of normality in your life to enable you to become something beyond their training. You are theirs.”
Taldan flinched. He well remembered the words Hredeen had spoken when he had pledged himself as a concubine within that meeting room.
“My name is Hredeen, and I am yours.”
The fact that he had handed himself over so readily to Taldan’s control now made a terrible type of sense.
“Hredeen was trained in sensual arts. Those that are chosen for that particular talent must be beautiful, and they begin their introduction into sexual practices as soon as possible, whether they are emotionally ready or not.”