Hol Saro, 17th of Ninthmoon 3045
The ringing of alarm bells in the watchtowers had continued almost ceaselessly since daybreak. Oerei felt shame weighting heavily on him, shame from hardly even paying attention to the sound anymore. He’d been woken up by it every single morning during the first week; over time he’d grown numb to its presence.
Even so restlessness followed him everywhere, just like the black pillar of smoke towering over the rooftops, blackening the sky. His boots turned sooty from treading across the lawn in the imperial gardens and all over the corridors were ash-mixed footprints, appearing faster than anyone could clean. A patrol in full armour – similar to what Ren’i and his Guards donned – went trampling past with lances at the ready, eyes darting from side to side. Each and every soldier in the palace bore the same look on their faces.
”Your highness,” the soldiers standing at the doors to the throne room said and bowed deeply.
”Her majesty is expecting me,” Oerei announced.
The soldiers bowed anew and pushed the doors open. Oerei nodded to them as he marched in.
The hall was empty but for the empress and her bodyguards, who stood mutely by the doors leading to the room. There were more guards behind hidden doors and in all the secluded places of the arched ceiling, Oerei could sense it at the back of his head. He sent out a searching thought out of sheer habit, and counted. Twenty within the throne room, another twenty hiding in the nearby rooms and secret chambers. The empress had not increased the amount of guards despite the unrest, though the senate had demanded it, and Oerei knew why.
Bodyguards were a mere formality. Ellerrem had no more need of them right now than before.
”You are late,” Vasaqin’s hollow voice greeted him. The tattooed woman stood by the empress like a mountain, her expression showing no sign of softening as Oerei took to one knee respectfully.
”At ease, Vasaqin,” Ellerram spoke. The smile did not reach her eyes. ”Our brother’s duties in the senate are of exceptional importance during times like these.”
”Forgive me for making your majesty wait,” Oerei said, inclining his head.
The jewels hanging from the hairpins chimed as Ellerram shifted. ”Rise, prince Oerei.”
Oerei rose.
Ellerram had discarded her ceremonial dress, but even without it she radiated imperial might with her whole being. The red suit looked as though it had been dipped in blood, and her hair, collected into an artful bun on top of her head, resembled the style worn by the statue of Tiran, the first empress of Kisha, who guarded the stairs leading to the palace from the Square of Three Swords. Her right hand rested on the hilt of the staff hanging from her belt. The engravings of gold and silver on its surface reflected the dim light of the candles. Oerei felt chilled to the bone, though Ellerram never touched the staff with her bare hands.
The long table covered in maps had been brought inside the hall from the meeting room. The layout on the map had stayed the same for weeks on end; the commander-in-chief and his armies in the south, the empress and her legions in the north. Wooden soldiers formed a circle around Hol Saro.
”What news?” Ellerram asked. Though she addressed Oerei her eyes were focused on the map. Vasaqin was setting figurines painted in the yellow-and-black of Liqaria on the isles of the Cape of Mists on the other side of the table.
”The senators sympathise with our request. They are ready to pull out some of the legions from Ti’anrui to defend the citadel.”
”That would leave the western parts of the empire and the Protectorate of Nemerwatan defenseless.”
Oerei nodded grimly. ”I expressed the same concerns as your majesty. The representatives of Nemerwatan do not like the idea, but the direct interpretation of the treaty does not define how much of the Kishan forces must be utilised in defending the west.”
”The exact wording is ’the Kishan empire and the ruby throne are to keep Nemerwatan armed in times of war and peace alike’,” Vasaqin quoted the treaty without batting an eye. Oerei had no difficulty believing she could recite the entire writ from memory. ”The unrest has not spread on the merjil regions. Should we pull half our forces back to Hol Saro…”
”No,” Ellerram interrupted, and Vasaqin fell quiet at once. ”Our second largest asari minority resides in Nemerwatan, second only to Kara. Should our presence in the west weaken the rebels will not hesitate to abuse the situation. We know full well that the Council of Kushal is unwilling to interfere in bloodshed should it put merjil lives at risk.”
The merjils had not warred in thousands of years, no because there was never any unrest in their lands, but simply because they avoided it at all costs. Few of them were armed or even knew how to use a weapon. After joining the empire their primary demand had been for Kisha to provide them with protection as needed, leaving their people out of violence and warfare.
”What of Kara? The city hosts five permanent legions,” Vasaqin asked.
Oerei did not respond immediately. When he spoke, he chose his words with care. ”The situation in Kara is relatively peaceful in comparison to the capital. Senators Turain and Mheretas do not think it wise, being Karanese themselves, but their legions are practically idling their time away. Transporting them to Hol Saro would take three weeks at most.”
Ellerram directed her gaze at him. The look in the kohl-rimmed eyes was unreadable, but Oerei knew his sister well enough to understand what she was thinking of. They inspected one another silently, calculating each and every gesture and word.
”Five full legions, yet no trace of prince Chuja or the lady Nahere has been found.” Ellerram’s voice was tranquil. ”Should they be as idle as you claim, prince Oerei, then perhaps they should be disciplined. It is of utmost importance that Chuja and Nahere be found at once.”
Oerei’s words were just as calm as he replied, ”then perhaps they are not in Kara, since no one has managed to find them.”
The way Vasaqin eyed him was laced with suspicion. ”Did I not know your highness better, I’d almost say that you are hiding something. You are strangely eager to pull out our forces from the place where prince Chuja was last seen.”
”My concern for our brother equals her majesty’s,” Oerei said. ”I do have to admit that I personally do not believe they have remained in Kara. The whole empire knows they reside there. Should they wish to conceal their whereabouts, it would be unwise to remain where people know to look for them, and our brother is anything but stupid.”
Vasaqin grunted, but said no more.
”Let the legions remain in Kara for the time being,” Ellerram said. ”What prince Oerei said makes sense, but we cannot leave prince Chuja’s condition out of our calculations. If we know our brother at all, he will want to remain close enough to civilisation.”
”There are midwives in every backwater village, your majesty,” Oerei pointed out.
”So let the legions turn the mountain hamlets upside-down. Ensure that they are brought to us safely, as soon as possible.” Ellerram did not raise her voice once, but her tone told them all the matter would not be discussed further.
Oerei bowed deeply. ”It will be as you said, your majesty.”
”What of the citadel’s defenses?” Vasaqin inquired.
Ellerram flicked her hand dismissively. ”We will speak to the senate about the matter ourselves. The legions of Nemerwatan are loyal to the crown and as such our best option, but we must not offend the Council by making a decision without their input. Vasaqin, arrange us an audience for tomorrow morning.”
Vasaqin’s ornamental chains rattled against the breastplate as she bowed. She turned at her heels and exited the throne room, followed by a metallic echo. The hall was quiet once the heavy oaken doors had shut. Not even the sounds of the alarm bells could permeate the thick walls.
”Leave us,” Ellerram ordered her guards when Vasaqin had left. They bowed without hesitation and retreated to the back rooms at once in orderly ranks without uttering a word of protest.
Ellerram relaxed visibly as soon as the guards were gone and let out the sigh she’d been holding back, her posture immediately transformed. She pulled a letter from her breast pocket and held it out to Oerei. The seal had been broken and the paper was warped with moisture. ”This arrived an hour or so ago,” she said, the ghost of a genuine smile on her lips. ”I thought you’d be interested in reading it.”
That she had dropped the formalities chilled Oerei. Ellerram did so rarely, and never without reason. Oerei’s hands shook badly once he reached the end of the letter and stared at his sister.
”35 000?” Oerei whispered in disbelief. It was much more than even in his worst nightmares. ”Is the source trustworthy?”
”The information comes from our usual source and the protective spell on the letter had not been tampered with before its arrival in court. It was dated in Sixthmoon, however, so their estimate on the numbers is by now outdated.”
”They are throwing all their might against Ren’i and his troops!”
”Exactly as I’d hoped.” Ellerram reached for the map. Her hand paused over the red wooden figurine. ”They will learn a most bitter lesson when Ren’i wipes the last Liqari companies off the face of Melkem. The Liqari threat will be eliminated after the war – without an army they cannot oppose us for centuries.”
Fear clutched at Oerei’s throat, but he swallowed down all the protests brimming on his tongue. Ellerram saw how he’d blanched, and went on more gently, ”don’t be restless. I would’t have sent Ren’i had I not believed him capable of handling this.”
Oerei swallowed. ”One legion and the akheris against the entire might of the Liqari infantry would be a challenge to any war commander.”
”You don’t know your son like I do, brother dearest. I raised him as commander-in-chief, just like I was raised during Mushar’s time, for I saw the same promise in him.” Ellerram smiled wistfully as she reminisced their late little sister. ”This is my gift to him. He’ll thank me yet when he becomes emperor. He won’t take the throne unprepared.”
”I don’t doubt his skills, but they are severely outnumbered.” Oerei could only just keep his voice from trembling. ”You know how Liqaria sees the Kishan royal house. Should they gain the upper hand, they will not be taking prisoners of war.”
The vestiges of a smile vanished from Ellerram’s face when she met his eyes. ”You’re afraid he’s not coming home.” She sighed again.” Of course you are. You must think me heartless.”
”Your majesty—”
”No formalities. Let us speak frankly for once, as family should.” Ellerram brushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear. ”I know full well it can’t have been easy for you to raise him all alone. After Mitae…” She started visibly. ”What I’m trying to say is that I now understand better what you lost in his mother, though I never got to meet her. What Chuja and I have done to support you two will never make up for the fact that Ren’i grew up motherless, but that does not mean we don’t cherish him just as you do.”
Oerei opened his mouth, then closed it again without getting a word out. He simply hung his head, eyes on the table.
The empress’s footsteps left nary a sound against stone as she paused next to Oerei. Her voice was more subdued than earlier when she said, ”he will return home, and he’ll do it as a victor. Please trust my judgment just this once.”
The doors swung as Vasaqin returned. She bowed, the doors closing after her, and said in her deep voice, ”the senate will lend you an ear at dawn, your majesty.”
”Marvellous.” Ellerram nodded towards Oerei, and there wasn’t a trace left of that vulnerable woman she’d only just been moments ago. ”We shall see you then. You are dismissed, prince Oerei.”
Oerei hastened to bow and strode out faster than was considered polite. If the guards and Vasaqin stared after him in confusion, he did not notice it. His heart drummed to the same agitated beat as his footsteps, and the fear he’d kept under firm control the past months no longer obeyed him. The tangle of anxiety unravelled like a ball of yarn as his thoughts raced at alarming speed.
He only realised he was still clutching the letter in his hand once the door to his office had slammed shut behind him. He kicked the shoes off his feet and read the letter again once, then twice. The humidity from naval transport had left the envelope buckled and bloated, but the contents had remained unharmed thanks to the protective spell, which had prevented the ink from running. It was the same handwriting that he’d seen in countless similar letters over the years. Judging by the hasty lettering the writer had been in a hurry.
’Mobilisation still ongoing. Thirtyfive thousand soldiers in Mori, more coming daily. The levies apply to all military districts. Ready to march as soon as the spring thaw sets in.’
There was no space in his mind for anything but Ren’i. Thinking about the distance between them cut deeper than ever during the whole time he’d been gone. Did he know the enemy strength he would be facing? Fear pulled Oerei’s insides into a knot that refused to budge. He stuffed the now wrinkly letter in his pocket.
The Hol Saro beneath the glass doors of his balcony was different from the one he and Ren’i had viewed on the tattooing day so many months ago. The air carried the bitter reek of smoke, which stung in his eyes. The alarm bells echoed from all the different districts of the city all at different times, blending in with the steady pitter patter of summer rain against the rooftops and the windows. It was not enough to smother the flames that had engulfed a building at the very edge of Galase, nor the pillar of smoke roused by the fire.
He would have given anything just to see his son right now. It was a selfish wish, Oerei knew it full well. Ren’i was far safer in the south than he ever would have been at the capital, no matter how many Liqaris stood in his way. There was so much Oerei would have wanted to tell him, but more than that he wanted to hear Ren’i’s voice. To know that he was all right, that he lived.
Someone knocked on the door thrice. When Oerei did not respond they knocked again.
”Your highness.” Lula’s voice carried through the door. Not even in an emergency would they relent on the demands of politeness and rush in without permission. ”Highness. I know that you are there.”
Oerei sighed. ”Come on in.”
Lula looked just as tired as he did. Their face had lost much of its natural roundness over the summer, and without the long wig they looked strangely diminished, as though colour had been sucked out of them. The short brown hair barely reached their ears, making them look younger than their true years. Lula was about to bow, but before they could do more than incline their head Oerei had waved his hand, shaking his head.
”We’re short on time,” Oerei said. ”Let’s not waste it on unnecessary formalities when no one’s watching.”
”As your highness wishes.” Lula fiddled with the hem of their tunic, something they always did when unable to decide what to do with their hands. ”The captains have returned from the city.”
”Any news?”
Lula looked unusually grave. ”They said it would be best if you heard it directly from them.”
”I’ll be there at once.” Oerei dug out the wrinkled letter again and held it out to Lula. ”Please take a look at this and see if there’s anything you can find out. It was still under protection upon delivery, but that alone does not mean it has not been in the wrong hands along the way.”
”Sure thing,” Lula said and pocketed the letter. ”All the usuals?”
Oerei nodded. ”If it’s still possible to find a passage to Menushe, get in touch with Mrelle. She may be able to discover details our eyes can’t detect.”
They left the office together. Oerei did not even notice when or where Lula took off, but when he glanced over his shoulder they were already gone. One of the wall panels on the corridor slid back in place as though it had never been moved.