Birth of a Mortal God (24 page)

Rantal bowed. “Of course, it shall be done immediately. Is there anything else, Lord Killmar?”

“No, that is all.”

“We shall take our leave then. A carriage shall take you to the Royal Audience Hall tomorrow at dawn,” he said before mounting his ranshak.

Killmar nodded and their escort departed. “Well, let us see what kind of accommodation they have prepared for us.”

Jessica followed closely behind him as he walked up the path to the door. Like most of the walls, it was made of linwon. Although not as scarce as its darker counterpart found only in the Viper Valley, its light brown gleam contested to the meticulous care it was given daily. Killmar opened the door and entered. A garden with a fountain elaborately decorated as a rose stood proudly at the centre of the house.

Jessica stared at the drops of water that seemed to almost bleed from the azure rose head, splashing softly into a mosaic pool that depicted lush green vines sprawling outwards. “Where does the water come from? I mean, we are in the sky,” she wondered absently.

“Ewiens were quite skilled in the arcane arts, but when they lost their ability to practice, they sought out those who could in order to recharge the various enchantments that are responsible for many of the palace’s internal workings,” he said, running his hand through the cool water of the pond. “The enchantments themselves are not all that complex. Take the water supply, for instance. There are numerous chambers which store water brought up from Erana.” He walked over and kneeled next to a strange golden object in the garden. “Ah, here it is.”

She leaned closer and saw that the object was a small statue of a woman holding a pail with a tiny hole at its bottom.

“Watch,” he said as he brought his hands near the pail. Slowly, water bubbled from the tiny hole until the pail was filled.

“How—”

He stood and the pail slowly emptied. “It is a combination spell. There is a detection spell on the statue itself, which when triggered, activates the acceleration spell cast on their water chambers. So when you are close enough to the statue, the acceleration spell pushes the water through the pipes, filling the pail.”

“Pipes?” she asked confused.

He lightly smacked his forehead. “Of course, you don’t know. There is a network of golden pipes throughout the palace that is connected to previously mentioned water chambers.”

“I see,” she said, turning to regard her surroundings. The corridor-like structure formed a square around the garden and fountain. Each room seemed to be separated only by white paper screens.

He removed his boots before crossing the garden. “Leave your shoes here. They will only dirty the floors.”

She quickly slipped out of them before following. The wooden floors were cold and smooth to the touch. “It must be quite the task to keep them in such a good condition.”

Killmar slid aside a white paper screen. “I assume you are referring to the floor?”

She indicated she was.

“Ewiens have ample servants to do such tasks.”

Her hand moved to her brand. “Do you mean they also use slaves?”

He walked into the room. It was devoid of any furniture except for colourful wall paintings, an oval man-sized polished metal disc that rested against the wall, and a large bedlike object known as a futon, instead of the traditional bed frame with a straw or feather mattress. The futon lay spread out on the ground. “Slaves? I thought you would have noticed by now.”

She sat down next to him on the futon. Despite being just two inches thick, it was as soft as snow. “Notice what?”

“Since entering the palace, did you happen to see any other race other than the ewiens?”

She realised she hadn’t, and he continued, “Did you notice any ewiens in Larin and Hallion besides the city guard?”

She didn’t need to think about it. “No, I didn’t. I remember having heard something about all ewiens serving in the imperial government. Is that what this is all about?”

“Imperial government,” he repeated with a smirk. “Well then, I suppose you are now in the imperial city.”

It took a moment, then her eyes widened. “All the ewiens live here in the palace, hence its ridiculous size!”

“Well, save their city guards and governors,” he added with a smile.

“I am still not quite sure how this relates to whether or not they use slaves?” she pointed out.

“I assume you know about their lifespan?” She indicated she did, and he continued, “All ewiens between the ages of one and four first serve as pages and the like. On their fourth year, they are assigned to their initial tiers and occupation.”

“You mean they can’t choose what they want to do with their own lives?” she asked, shocked.

“No. All ewiens, without exception, serve the Emperor, who in turn is chosen by the reibai collective. Every individual is assigned to an occupation in which he or she shows talent, thus it can be said the Empire is always at its most powerful.”

“But they have no control over their lives!” she said, distressed.

“Oh, and how much control did you have over your own?”

“I . . .” she started before falling silent.

“It may seem cruel to you, but here they have no slaves. Every ewien has food on his plate and a roof over his head. Crime is all but non-existent, and they have no such thing as taxes. Can you still claim that they are wrong and that the Kingdom or Coalition is correct?”

“I suppose I can’t,” she admitted reluctantly.

He smiled. “Let’s get some rest. We don’t want to be all droopy-eyed in front of the Emperor, now do we?”

She had barely lain in his arms a few minutes when she noticed his wandering hands. “I thought we should get some rest so we wouldn’t be droopy-eyed in front of the Emperor?”

Killmar feigned ignorance. “Emperor? What emperor?”

She felt his skin grow warm against hers and indulged herself in his love.

Joneras knocked on
the door.

“Enter.”

Slowly he pushed open the door to the Mind Garden, keeping his gaze down, away from the old man who he knew sat on the lone cushion. “Your Eminence seems to favour the garden more than usual of late.”

“The Mind Garden you mean,” said the Emperor with a laugh. “I’m a man with one foot already in White Hall. At times, I swear I can feel his cold breath on my nape.”

“Your Eminence is far too young to be taken from us,” lied Joneras as he kneeled, pressing his forehead against the cold stone tiles.

Ryuuhan laughed bitterly. “If I could add one day to my life for every time I had to suffer such flattery, I’d probably live to be a thousand. Sadly, I can’t, but before Henensu takes me, I’ll see my Empire safe from invasion. Now what news of Asteroth and his beastmen?”

“As you predicted, he united all the tribes, consolidating them near their Black City.”

“Yes, yes, what of the man? How do you measure him?” interrupted the Old Emperor.

“He is a barbarian, interested in nothing but blood and death. When asked about his intentions regarding the Empire, he said that we still had a debt to pay for our ancestors’ invasion of their land, and that he’ll see it paid,” answered Joneras without so much as a hint of hesitation.

Ryuuhan sighed. “That is unfortunate. Seeing how you were able to communicate with him, I take it he is in fact something unique?”

“There is something magical about him. Despite being the largest being I’ve ever seen, he could also speak Zhēnli as if born to it,” he answered with the perfect amount of concern in his voice.

The Emperor stared at the imperial magician a moment. “Well, I suppose I should be thankful this news reached me at such an opportune time. As our spies predicted, Lindred’s xenophobia has driven him mad. Prince Sebastian reportedly rots in a dungeon as the Fat King marshals the whole of Zinox at the capital. Bringing an army of that magnitude so close to our borders violates our peace treaty. I had hoped an assassination would have stopped all this nonsense, but now with Asteroth . . .”

“What are the lives of two armies to the Blue Rose?” suggested Joneras.

“Gods, this is not what I wanted,” said Ryuuhan distraught.

“It is for the good of the Empire,” answered Joneras, hiding a smirk.

Killmar brushed back
a lock of hair from Jessica’s sleeping face. There was something different about her. He couldn’t quite place it, but something had changed. He threw aside the bedspread as he sensed someone approach the front door, opening it the moment the first knock landed.

The princess blushed and looked away from his nude form. “I am sorry, I did not realise—”

“Hinamori! What are you doing here?” he asked genuinely surprised.

Resisting the urge to let her gaze drift, she explained, “I heard that you ordered Commander Rantal to retrieve a package for you from the Arcane University. I requested the privilege of delivering it.”

His gaze narrowed. “I don’t see any guards or servants. Where is your escort?”

She smiled slightly. “Perceptive as always. Before I answer, would you please get dressed? It is quite distracting.”

“Very well, close the door behind you,” he answered before turning and disappearing into the bedroom.

She quickly entered and quietly pushed the door closed. The shadow figure on the white paper screen showed Killmar pulling on only his robe before reappearing.

He slid the door shut with great care, before moving to one of the rooms furthest from the bedroom. “So where is your escort?”

“First your package,” she said, extending the small wooden chest she had been gripping tightly.

He took it and replied in almost a parental tone. “Stop deflecting. Judging by your common attire, I suppose no one knows you are here?”

She self-consciously ran her hands over the brown dress, before pulling her hooded green cloak over it.

“Do you want the entire Empire in an uproar? What do you think will happen when they discover you are missing?” he pressed with a harsher tone than he intended.

She moved her pearl-white hair over her left shoulder before sitting down on one of the furnishing cushions. “I had to speak with you alone. Besides, I intend to be back before anyone discovers I am missing.”

Killmar sighed. “I told you ten years ago that I am not who your fantasies shape me to be. There is nothing but pain that awaits you if you continue on with this foolishness.”

She looked at her soft, grey hands. “The heart does not always listen to reason.”

“I suppose I am being a bit harsh,” he said finally as he fell onto a cushion opposite hers.

“You have changed. Ten years ago, you would have thrown me out of here without even listening to what I had to say. Your wife must be quite an extraordinary woman,” she said, failing to suppress both the envy and sadness in her voice.

“That she is,” he answered unaware of the grin now on his face.

“May I meet her?”

“I don’t mind, but if I were to wake her now and tell her that the Princess of the Eranian Empire is waiting to meet her . . . Well, let’s just say she’ll be less than pleased with me,” he said as he stroked aside the long blue lock from his face.

“She is indeed a woman to be feared, if the Blue Rose himself alters his actions for her,” she said with a chuckle.

“I have never really thought about it, but I suppose that’s more true than not.”

She gracefully rose to her feet. “Then I shall wait until your audience with Father.”

He guided her to the door. “You have become quite a mature woman, Hinamori. It suits you well.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“That was uncharacteristically gentle of you,” said a man as he closed the door.

He turned to the grey-haired man leaning against the wall. He was wearing servant’s robes, and though grey-skinned, he was a few inches taller than five feet; the only flaw in his disguise. “Enchantment?”

“This close to the Arcane University? Of course not. You raised me better than that,” he said almost offended.

Killmar smiled. Raise was a strong word, but the time he had spent moulding Raven into what he was, was time well spent.

Raven fingered the grey paste on his arm. “It’s a powder of sorts. Got it off a bunch of travelling actors. Won’t pass close inspection, but then if I’m being inspected closely, I’m not doing my job right, right?”

“What are you doing here? I believe I gave you a whole kingdom to watch.”

He shrugged. “Nothing to do now that the Fat King pulled the strings of all his puppets. The capital is so crowded, you can’t fart without a dozen nobles complaining about the stench. Besides, Kingdom folk don’t quite trust anyone who won’t accept gold as payment.” Killmar pinched the bridge of his nose and Raven quickly added, “I just figured you’d want to know that I went ahead and took care of that problem you had with people tracking your whereabouts.”

“I don’t recall assigning that task to you.”

“Swallow informed me of the letter you wrote. She’s a capable gal but not well blooded. I figured since I don’t have anything to do . . .” he shrugged.

“So I was under constant surveillance after all.”

Raven smiled. “Aye, a very professional outfit, as well. Seems like some people out there decided following you can make them a living. They were right, too. Many fat purses are interested in your comings and goings.”

“Magic?” he asked.

“To a degree, yes. They had an entire vault full of magical baubles. Nothing that would tickle your fancy, but still strong enough to help prevent detection. However, these people weren’t peasants, either; they were well trained. In my opinion, they were flawless in how they pursued you,” he said as he cleaned his nails with what seemed like an impossibly small knife.

“How then did you locate them?”

“Though they had made preparations, most of their resources were dedicated to preventing you from noticing them. I don’t think they knew much about me,” he said with an evil grin.

“How large was the organisation?”

“They had seven hundred and twenty-nine members.”

Killmar’s eyes only widened slightly at the news, but he knew Raven had noted the reaction. “They are all dead?”

“Down to the last man,” said the specious young man proudly.