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“Be that as it may, events are proceeding according to the wishes of the Heavenly Deity, whether we like it or not,” Dorgoe provided a hasty summary. “The Empire and Virilan are coming into contact, and it’s just a matter of time before we send a delegation.”
“I believe the time has come!” agreed the green-eyed man. “This uncertainty cannot go on forever. If we have an opportunity to sign a trade treaty, then we must do it now. And if, in fact, the Virilans are prepared to display enmity, it is better that we know it in advance. I vote that we immediately send a delegation with full powers to Virilan.” He slowly raised his hand, palm outward, as if warding off a wave of anticipated criticism.
As it turned out, there were no objections. Ronko and Dorgoe voted for the motion in a display of unheard-of solidarity with each other. Tameto indicated his assent a second later, and couldn’t stop himself from adding a bit of commentary: “We must see the enemy’s face, for perhaps he is an ally.” Forsey shot Dorgoe a look of hatred before turning away and raising his hand in favor.
Dorgoe was appointed to organize the mission. That surprised Uni until he recalled that the man had a silent position directing the Empire’s foreign affairs.
“Who do you recommend as the ambassador?” asked the green-eyed man.
Dorgoe spoke up brightly. “You won’t find anyone better than Ontius Sanery. He’s been on multiple missions to Mustobrim and to the Arincils. I’m sure he’ll find a common language with the Virilans.” He offered this suggestion as if the whole idea of the delegation had been his from the very beginning. Uni felt a little sorry for Ronko, who was being sidelined from a scheme that he had personally conceived of.
“I do remember him, and he is an experienced diplomat, but I don’t know about the common language. We will need an interpreter, and probably more than one.”
“We could hire one from the Capotian merchants,” Forsey sneered.
“Would you let them interpret for negotiations to end their monopoly?” Ronko interrupted. “These are matters of great importance to the empire. The interpreter must be a loyal subject of the empire.”
“You mean him?” asked Dorgoe, pointing his fat double chin at Uni.
“There isn’t anyone else who can do it,” Ronko smiled sweetly. “And he’ll be the only interpreter involved. First of all, the fewer people who know about the talks, the better. And second, Enel Virando is unique in his ability.”
“Then it’s decided,” said the green-eyed man, his face brightening. “Young man, I hope you realize what kind of responsibility this is. If you make a mistake of any kind, the talks could break down and all our efforts will be wasted. It could even lead to war.” At this, Tameto’s eyes flashed. “I suggest you spend the rest of the time before your departure filling in any gaps in your knowledge.”
“One more thing,” said Ronko. “As of today, Enel Virando no longer works at the archive. That being the case, in addition to appointing him to the delegation, we must assign him a palace rank that will allow him to access all the documents he will need for the mission.”
“We will decide that later,” Dorgoe answered drily. “I have a more important question: how will the delegation travel to Virilan?”
Tameto stood up. “I suggest crossing the northern border. I have men who can take them all the way to the Virilans’ camp there. After that, it’s up to the Virilans to take them to the capital. I hope.”
Ronko shook his head. “I think traveling by sea would be safer. First of all, the wasteland is not entirely safe. Second, we must visit Manibortish to get an idea of how the trading is going and to collect information. Third…”
“Going by sea means traveling right under the Capotians’ noses,” Tameto objected. “Manibortish is their trading post. I don’t see the sense in your proposal!” He stared at Ronko.
“And we have no guarantees that the Capotians will let our delegation over the border into Virilan,” Forsey muttered.
The green-eyed man suddenly lost all patience. “Listen to you! They might not want to? The Capotian cities have a pact of protection with the Empire!” He leaped from his seat and strode across the room, accidentally bumping into Uni, who couldn’t collect his wits in time to get out of the way. “The merchants have gone too far! We will sign a treaty with Virilan if for no other reason than to put those avaricious wretches in their place!” With that, he turned and strode back to his seat, sat down, and pursed his thin lips.
Uni assumed that Forsey’s resistance would be broken after that, but the man grimaced and turned away to demonstrate his indifference to something he could no longer prevent.
It was only after leaving the palace and finding himself on the familiar streets around the Market of Plenty that Uni fully realized what had happened to him. While he was standing in that round room, the redemptive turn of fate somehow seemed inevitable, as if he had finally woken from a nightmare and found himself back in the real world on a sunny day in spring. Virilan! Virilan! The word echoed in his brain and he repeated it again and again, not quite believing his own good fortune. It was worth almost losing everything he held dear in this life in order to find the door to the land of his fantasy – a land so familiar and yet so mysterious, known to him only through books, and colored by his own imagination to such an extent that reality began to bleed into the edges of illusion.
“My heart and soul are already there,” Uni thought. “Now all I have to do is transport my body there. Interpreter for the delegation! The Empire’s fate depends on my words! Amazing! I will see the Emperor of Virilan, who holds power over the forces of nature and the heavens. I wonder if it’s true that he is immortal? Would it be proper to ask him?” He shook his head at his own folly. “After today, nothing will surprise me.”
Then he thought back to his conversation with Ronko after they left the council, and a chill ran up his spine. “How could I be so stupid!”
As they made their way back through the palace halls, Ronko seemed truly upset that the delegation was to be organized by his political adversary, but his deep-rooted buoyancy did not leave him. Instead, he explained to Uni how the power dynamic surrounding the Emperor functioned.
“No, I’m not too surprised it ended up this way. There are two types of people around the Emperor: the first are men like myself and Forsey who served his father. If you recall, Forsey was the current Emperor’s tutor. Forsey and I rarely agree on anything, but the Emperor sees us as old men whose influence he would like to free himself from.”
“Free himself? Is it that difficult?”
“The Imperial Council ran this country for ten years while the Emperor was still young and inexperienced. However, he proved to be a quick study and soon removed the extremists from the council. He also managed to get his own protégé appointed to the council. That is why he trusts Dorgoe more than me. Dorgoe depends on him for everything. And he never knew him as a child. He knows Forsey and I remember him as a babe in arms, and it drives him mad!”
“I can imagine. Is it true that Dorgoe used to sell meat pies in the streets?”
“More or less, but not for very long, to his credit. He put together a team of sellers. Then he opened a bakery. By the time Forsey met him, Dorgoe was selling bread to the best homes in Trikazinso. He was working with Capotians and made a fortune out of Virilan wheat.”
“That means he owes everything to Forsey?”
“Precisely! Forsey was the Emperor’s tutor, but he was lacking talent (as he still is). Dorgoe, on the other hand, had plenty of money, but he was lacking in important contacts. Rich men bought their bread from him, and nothing more. So he decided to use Forsey to get what he wanted.”
“But how did he get from there to here? What I mean is, how is it that the Emperor’s most important advisors are dancing to the tune of a baker?”
“If he’d just been that – a baker – it never would have worked. Dorgoe’s intelligence is limited, but he can guess what people are going to do with unusual precision. Then, once he knows their true needs and desires, he finds ways to satisfy them. First, he taught Forsey how to make use of his only resource, his access to the Emperor. Forsey’s influence rose steadily, but he wasn’t ready for the challenge, so in the end he recommended that the Emperor take on Dorgoe as an advisor. Dorgoe’s accomplishment was helping His Majesty get on a more independent footing with the council. Without damaging the existing system of governance, he managed to restring the inner workings so that the Emperor gained the real power he wanted.”
“Is that why Dorgoe is your enemy? Because he took power away from those of you who served the Emperor’s father and put it in his hands?”
Ronko laughed and looked away for a moment. “I always knew you were a smart boy. Sometimes you are too smart.” They walked on for a while before he spoke again. “Even I don’t know who actually holds the power in the Empire. When there are so many intersecting interests, the situation can change quickly and most unexpectedly. It’s an illusion that the Emperor is all-powerful. In reality, his hands are tied. The Solar Sentinels instituted a system of overseers who control the army and all of the generals. As a result, there is little risk of a coup, but our army is weak. That means we can’t use it to rein in the ambitions of the local dynasties. We’ve also had to patch together a dissatisfactory peace with the nomads. We are afraid of making a wrong move because any change could lead to lamentable consequences.
“But don’t the different forces cancel each other out?”
“Oh, stability is Dorgoe’s strong suit. It’s the magic word that opened the doors to power for him. Dorgoe has woven together a net of mutual obligations that no one other than himself is capable of even comprehending. He sits there like a fat spider in his web, taking from one person and giving to another one and then turning around and doing the exact opposite. That’s how he makes sure that no one group – whether it’s the military, the local dynasties, or the civil service – ever gets an advantage. So you see, the Emperor would be lost without him.
“Isn’t he afraid to have such a powerful advisor?”
“The Emperor knows that the rest of us will devour Dorgoe if he ever falls out of favor. No, Dorgoe is powerful, but his position is shaky. He’s an upstart, and he won’t last long. As long as the Imperial Council exists, he will never have real power.”
The two of them stopped by a wonderful fountain that was playing a lilting melody. The sunlight coming through the panes of glass in the ceiling of the great hall turned the streams of water all the colors of the rainbow, creating a magical atmosphere of carefree fun. Ronko reached out a hand and ran it over the water’s surface, as if testing that it were real and not a delightful illusion.
Uni was up to his ears in palace gossip and intrigue and failed to notice that Ronko was already tired out by his questions. “I thought he would support Forsey,” he opined cheerfully. “You really made a fool of him with my report. He’ll think twice before he touches someone else’s property again.”
“Aren’t you all worked up,” Ronko chuckled. The report wasn’t such a big deal. You see, Dorgoe never actually came out against the delegation. He’s too clever for that, and he reads the Emperor’s mood like a book. I was more surprised by Tameto. I’ve known him since the last war, and he can’t imagine diplomacy without a big stick. Those Virilans he saw must have impressed him greatly, and not just by slicing through a bronze cuirass. I’d like to know more about that.” He shook his head. “Well, Uni, I have some affairs to attend to. Your period of unemployment didn’t last as long as you expected, did it? Dorgoe may be a weasel, but he knows how to get things done. You can expect to be called to meet with the head of the new diplomatic mission within the next few days.”
“Thank you so much, Enel Ronko. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here. Literally. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you for your kindness…”
“No need for that. And remember this: you should never grovel in front of a person if your relationship is based on mutual benefit. You’ve helped me much more than you can even imagine. But don’t let it go to your head. You’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
“Can I ask you just one more question?” Without meaning to, Uni threw up his hands like a young boy. “Who was the fourth man in the room? Is he on our side? I mean your side?”
Ronko gave a long sigh. He found Uni both amusing and endearing. “You’ve outdone yourself, Uni. I understand that humble archive employees don’t often get to hold gold coins in their hands, but surely you have seen – at least somewhere – the face of our Heavenly Lord, the Radiant Emperor of the Herandian Empire, His Majesty Kergenius!”
When he heard this, Uni’s mouth fell open and he stared at Ronko with a prayer for mercy in his pale blue eyes.
“Forgive me, how could I…I never imagined I could have the great honor…”
“Nonsense! The extravagant rituals are designed to entertain the crowds and keep the nobles in their places. Truly important matters of state are always decided in informal discussion, where each person has time to state his position to the Emperor. And then we vote. Our council is like a big family. We’ve all known each other forever, we fight and make up again, we intrigue against each other, but in the end we are all working for the good of the Empire.” He smiled. “And another thing. If I had warned you who you would be speaking to, I know everything would have gone wrong. You would have been too nervous to open your mouth! Well, what’s done is done. Go home and get some sleep. I hope you finally learned that abstract knowledge can come in very handy in the real world.”
He turned to leave, but remembered one last thing. “Don’t drink that much wine ever again. You’re privy to state secrets, so you must guard your every word.” With that, Ronko winked and disappeared between the marble columns.
Uni felt strangely deflated. “What a day! I’ve had enough excitement to last me a lifetime. I suppose I should go see Mother now. It’s about time I gave her a reason to be proud of me!”
Chapter 5. Necessary Formalities
Uni may have thought he had received the greatest measure of joy from the council meeting, but he was mistaken. Licisium Dorgoe returned to his fair estate in a much-improved state of mind. Satisfaction derived from a sense that events were developing just as he had intended was one of the few pleasures in life he knew how to enjoy. His velvet-lined chariot rumbled through the gates of his villa, and he quickly and with surprising agility removed his large body from its comfortable seat and proceeded straight to his garden.
“Is he here?” he asked Zhoslo, his butler, with a grin.
“He is waiting for Your Lordship in the blue pavilion,” the butler intoned, eyes almost closed.
“How mad is he?”
Zhoslo shrugged as if he knew nothing, but then he added, “What right would a barbarian have to express displeasure with a courtier of the Heavenly Empire?”
“That’s the correct answer,” Dorgoe nodded with a smile and headed across the lawn to where his next visitor was waiting for him.
The blue pavilion was so-named for two reasons. Thanks to the gardener’s careful ministrations, it was surrounded by plants that had been bred to bloom in a variety of shades of blue: sedum, helichrysum, calendula and verbena. In another month, these flowers would be joined by hollies and thistle, but for the time being those were still waiting in the wings. The walls of the pavilion were covered with blue-toned mosaics depicting waves on a river, fishermen, and other scenes from the life of the simple folk who lived and worked on the Great River, all known to gladden the heart of any hard-working civil servant. Ulinians (known for their refined tastes) often objected that Herandian architects had misunderstood the very concept of an outdoor pavilion, turning it from something light and airy, barely demarcating the border between the human and natural worlds, into something heavy and imposing. The misunderstanding, however, was entirely their own, for the imperial style had its own rules, adding solidity and magnificence to everything it deigned to touch.
Dorgoe slipped his large frame through the black carved batwing doors and turned his head from side to side, looking for his long-awaited guest. The comfortable sofa and the two small chairs (placed conveniently around a low table laid with light refreshments) were empty, and the wine and candied nuts were untouched. Dorgoe was about to permit himself an oath of surprise and annoyance when he suddenly felt a strange chill deep in his veins. The last time he had felt something like that was ten years prior, an instant before he was stabbed in a fight with some criminals near the port. Slowly, as if in premonition of death, he turned his heavy body on its axis. Right behind him, in the shadow by the door, sat a man wrapped in a dark cloak. His eyes were hard enough to drive a nail through an oak plank.
“Ambassador?” Dorgoe croaked, realizing that he was losing control under the effect of the power than emanated from his guest in waves and played havoc with his nerves. “Why are you sitting here in the corner?”
The foreigner’s expression remained unchanged, like a statue of some ancient god of warlike Seregad that had been painted a deep shade of bronze by its sculptor. The large nose, shaped like the beak of a bird of prey, was perfectly symmetrical on the shaven face, overlooking a powerful jaw and determined chin.
When the ambassador stood up, he towered over Dorgoe, who was considered a large man at court. “From this position it is easier to kill a man as he walks in,” he remarked offhandedly.
Dorgoe couldn’t keep from shuddering. He felt as if someone had walked over his head wearing hobnailed boots. “I thought we were meeting for the opposite reason – to prevent murder!” He did not like the sound of his own voice. “Please, you’ll be more comfortable over here,” Dorgoe motioned toward the table with refreshments.
He may not want to sit on such delicate furniture, he thought, head spinning. If he wavers, I may be able to win back some of the points I’ve lost.
But the guest strode across the room with no sign of discomfort and sat down on the sofa. That was Dorgoe’s favorite seat, but he said nothing. Instead, he carefully fitted himself into one of the small chairs and pulled it closer to the table.
“Allow me to apologize again. The council meeting took longer than expected, and I was unable to receive you at the palace as I had promised. But no matter: I often handle my most important affairs here. You were shown into the Emperor’s own chambers, which should give you an indication of my influence.” Dorgoe stuttered and fell silent as he saw the utter disregard in the man’s nut-brown eyes. He realized that his explanations were falling on deaf ears. “Enough of that. Let’s get to business. I was told that you are the personal representative of the House of the Jaguar and that you are duly authorized to engage in negotiations. As a pure formality, I must ask you if…”
The guest waved a hand over the table, and a round object, orange and black and encrusted with precious stones, appeared on it. Dorgoe picked it up gingerly and held it up to his eyes.
“The personal seal of Arincetek, Fierce Jaguar, leader of the most powerful of the houses of the Arincils.” He pursed his lips in respect. “I once saw the mark of this seal on a treaty. It is a powerful thing. Well,” he handed it back to his guest, “that takes care of the formalities, Ambassador. Tell me, how should I pronounce your name and title?”
“Lord Jaguar,” the guest said.
Dorgoe cleared his throat. “Very well. Perhaps it is better that way. As you know, I am Licisium Dorgoe. Member of the Imperial Council and custodian of the Heavenly Emperor’s will in many matters of state, including foreign affairs. The Empire makes no treaties without my involvement. You have come to the right person with your request, Lord Jaguar.
“The vanquished make requests!” the Arincil announced. Again, the look in his eyes made Dorgoe flinch. “If you wish to continue this conversation, choose your words carefully.”
Dorgoe’s eyebrows headed north. “Forgive me, I was told that…”
“Does the Empire desire peace?”
“Are you here to name your price?”
“You will find it reasonable.”
“Oh, so Lord Jaguar comes bringing peace, eh? But why should I believe him?”
“You have no choice. Four houses of the Arincils are fighting for power. The House of the Snake is too young and weak, so it may be ignored. The leader of the House of the Crocodile is a wise man, but he is entrenched in a war with Mustobrim and can do nothing else at the moment. Kuchinkapak from the House of the Eagle is brave and cruel. Warriors see it as an honor to follow a man like that. In order to unite all the Arincils under his leadership, he will point them toward a common enemy. That will be the Empire.”
“Makes sense. I have heard about Kuchinkapak. He is a madman. But where is my guarantee that Arincetek will be any better? How will he defeat such a dangerous adversary?”
“Arincetek will negotiate with the Empire. I am here – that is your proof. Kuchinkapak only knows how to speak with his sword. Violence is his only language. If the Empire is strong enough to break the Eagle’s wings, then there is nothing for us to discuss.”
“The Empire is strong enough, but it does not like to waste its strength. Do you have a specific proposal?”
“You have made contact with the Virilans. Take me to them. When I return, Arincetek will become the leader of all Arincils and the Empire will have peace and order.”
Dorgoe leaped from his seat, sending his chair rolling across the marble floor with a crash. “You are an ungrateful man, Lord Jaguar! I did not bring you to the palace so you could eavesdrop on secret conversations. May the demons of darkness take me – how did you do it?”
The Arincil stared off into space, unmoved. “We forgive our women for offenses for which a man would pay with his life because they are incapable of controlling themselves. You are being like a woman, so I will ignore what you have said. Necium Tameto’s warriors are also no better than women. They blabbered about meeting Virilans in the wasteland, even adding details of their own invention. They cannot be blamed for their weakness, but I was hoping to get a rational response to my proposal from you.”
“A rational response?” Dorgoe righted his chair and sat back down, nervously rubbing one calf with a fat hand. “It’s ridiculous! Why would the Empire convey its most fearsome enemy to Virilan? So that you can ally with them against us? No, your leader has either lost his mind or he believes us to be fools. Tell me the truth, Lord Jaguar. Did someone in one of the port taverns tell you that old Licisium is an idiot?”
“Virilan will never attack the Empire. They don’t need you or your land or your riches,” the Arincil growled. It was clear he had no wish to share his knowledge on the topic, but he had no choice. “If Herandia is able to establish diplomatic relations with them, you will see that I spoke the truth.”
“Maybe so,” Dorgoe said, squinting. “Let’s suppose you are being honest with me. Even so – may the demons blind me – I can’t figure where you get your information. But what is the true goal of your mission then? I have to know that, or any agreement between us is pointless.”
“It has nothing to do with politics,” the Arincil said. “It is a matter of honor. The story is a long one, and difficult for you to believe or even understand. What I am about to tell you carries a high price. Let it be proof of our future friendship.”
“Tell your story,” said Dorgoe, resting his double chin on one massive hand. “I can be very trusting.”
A welcoming May breeze wandered into the pavilion through the wooden shutters, but the men ignored its delicate attempts to direct their attention to the legendary beauty of the Herandian sunset. The Arincil was unhurried, and his short, succinct phrases were well matched with his aloof manner. Dorgoe remained hunched over the small table, his eyes fixed on his companion. Only a clever squint changed his face at the rare moments when he interrupted the ambassador to ask a question.
When the story was done, both men sat in silence. Then, Dorgoe leaned back in his seat and scratched the bald spot on the top of his head.
“This is all very interesting, of course,” he said. “I had already guessed some of it. As for your plan, it seems reckless to me.”
“The Arincils’ power has rested for hundreds of years on that which you call reckless. I told you it would be hard for you to understand. You have too little room in your life for risk.”
“It’s hard to say who is risking more: me or your great leader. I understand him, though. He’s up against the wall and he wants to make me his hostage. A fine plan!”
“Personal considerations are not the most important thing. You must understand what matters: this is the only chance to prevent full-scale war between our countries.”
“I’m more likely to believe that a wolf will eat grass than that the Arincils are interested in peace,” Dorgoe chuckled. “On the other hand,” and here he pursed his lips, “at times, war with a friend can be more profitable than peace with an enemy.” He lifted the bottle of wine from the table and poured out two glasses. “Allow me to raise a toast to Lord Jaguar. May each of us pray to his own gods for the success of this outrageous endeavor!”
* * *
“Uni! Uni!” Sevelia Virando cupped her worn palms around her mouth and made another attempt to get her son’s attention. “Uni! Don’t lie there like a boiled crab! You’ll catch it if you’re late for your meeting!
Up until the moment when he told his mother about his upcoming trip abroad, Uni had innocently assumed that she would be overjoyed at the news. Once the communication was made, however, he realized – yet again – that he was a very poor judge of what people could be expected to do, even those close to him.
Emel Virando really was delighted by her only son’s brilliant prospects. She had spent the last of her money putting him through the academy and had personally overseen his studies as best she could. But the thought that her precious child would be away from home for at least six months, and that he would be visiting a country that was quite possibly populated by demons, threw Sevelia into a state of nervous energy that she managed to communicate to all those around her. Her most intimate friends – wives of successful shop owners and craftsmen – secretly envied her as they shook their heads over tea with her and helped her elaborate a list of all the dangers that would stalk her son.
