Exactly. “I hope that’s not true, for your sake as well as mine.”
The man stared at him another moment, shaking his head. Then he walked away, leaving Dusaan to hope that he wouldn’t see fit to speak of this with any of the other Qirsi.
Stavel ate his midday meal alone in the kitchen as he did each day, reflecting with satisfaction on the morning’s discussion. He knew that the high chancellor didn’t particularly like him, and that the younger ministers thought him too cautious. But he knew as well that voices of reason were needed in a court like this one, that at times it was more important that a chancellor be respected than liked.
This matter in the south was a perfect example. It would have been too easy to advise the emperor to capitulate to the demands made by Lord Muelry. No one wanted to see the people in Muelry starve, Stavel least of all. He had been born in the city of Muelry. Even after his mother and father journeyed to Hanyck so that his father could become a minister in the court there, his mother continued to refer to Muelry as their home. Few in the palace knew this about him. He had told the emperor once, many years ago, but no doubt Harel had forgotten. None of the other Qirsi had ever bothered to ask.
Nevertheless, his loyalties to Muelry were of little importance, and though he didn’t wish to see the people there suffer, he also didn’t believe that customs were to be abandoned lightly. The people of Grensyn had long laid claim to the lands in question, and they deserved consideration as well. That was why he had been so pleased when he thought of the compromise he presented that morning, and why he had been even more delighted when the high chancellor agreed with him. Serving in the emperor’s court was a great honor, but it could be disheartening at times. Harel had so many Qirsi advisors that a man like Stavel, who lacked the ambition of others, could find himself ignored more often than not. All of which made what had happened that morning so gratifying.
There had been a time when Stavel thought he might become high chancellor. He had been here longer than most, and when the former high chancellor died, many expected that the emperor would choose Stavel to replace her. But around that time Dusaan came to the court, and though he was young, even Stavel could see that he was not like other Qirsi. He carried himself with the confidence of a warrior and made no secret of the fact that he wielded four magics, more than most Qirsi. Harel, who had long taken pride in the number of powerful Qirsi he attracted to his court, saw this new minister as a prize, and immediately offered to make him high chancellor. Dusaan, of course, accepted, as any Qirsi would have done. Stavel’s friends in the court were outraged, though naturally they kept their anger to themselves, fearing the emperor’s wrath. For his part, Stavel accepted the emperor’s decision with equanimity. He thought himself a formidable man-intelligent, passionate when passion was warranted, and powerful in his own right, possessing gleaning, fire, and shaping magic. But he couldn’t compete with a man who wielded four magics, and so he didn’t even think to try. Whatever disappointment he felt was tempered by his knowledge of how difficult was the life of a high chancellor. He didn’t envy the man, at least not much.
He had hoped to build a friendship with the new high chancellor, just as he had with Dusaan’s predecessor, but it soon became apparent that Dusaan and the emperor meant to change the high chancellor’s responsibilities from what they had been. What little contact Stavel and the other Qirsi had with the emperor diminished even further. Dusaan became a conduit of sorts, meeting first with the emperor and then with the other ministers and chancellors, carrying orders from one and counsel from the other. Stavel could see where the new arrangement might be attractive to Harel, keeping his audiences brief and simple, but it left many of the Qirsi feeling superfluous, even resentful. For his part, Stavel accepted this new state of affairs, realizing that there was little he could do to change it. “All that matters,” he told himself and any others who would listen, “is that we continue to offer sound advice to the emperor.”
He viewed days like this one as a vindication of his forbearance.
When he had finished his meal, he returned to his chamber, as he did each day, to write out the minutes of the day’s discussion. No one had ever asked him to do it; he had taken on the task himself. But Dusaan had once mentioned that he found the documents helpful, and so Stavel had continued the practice. Once he completed his work, he walked to the gardens, enjoying the late-day sunshine and the warm breezes blowing down from the hills.
It was there, wandering among the swelling buds of the roses, blackthorns, and woodbine, that he encountered the emperor. Harel was with the youngest of his wives, and several guards walked before them and behind. Stavel stood to the side and allowed them to pass, bowing as the emperor and empress stepped by him.
The emperor nodded to him, then hesitated.
“You’re Stavel, aren’t you?” he asked.
The chancellor could not help but smile as he said, “Yes, Your Eminence, I am.”
“The high chancellor told me it was your idea to make our solution in the south a temporary one, as a way of appeasing Lord Grensyn.”
“Yes, Your Eminence.”
“A fine idea, Chancellor. Well done.”
Stavel bowed again, his heart racing. “Thank you, Your Eminence.”
“I was also pleased to hear that the rest of you thought it wise to begin the invasion early. It’s good to see all the gold I pay you Qirsi being put to good use.”
Harel started to walk on
“Yes, Your Eminence,” the chancellor called after him, abruptly confused. “Thank you.”
They hadn’t even discussed the invasion. Not at all. They hadn’t spoken of it in days. Certainly the ministers and chancellors as a group had reached no decision at all regarding the timing of the assault on Eibithar. Stavel doubted that they would decide anything of the sort without hearing first from the master of arms. And even then, he didn’t see how rushing the invasion could serve any purpose. For a moment he considered following the emperor to ask just what Dusaan had told him, but he quickly thought better of it. Harel had honored him by speaking to him at all. For Stavel to ask any more of him, and in particular to ask him about a conversation he and the high chancellor had in private, would have been utterly inappropriate. There was no telling how the emperor would respond.
Instead he chose to find Dusaan, hoping that the high chancellor might be able to explain the emperor’s comment. Before he reached the man’s chamber, however, he remembered hearing Dusaan ask the young minister, Kayiv, to remain behind so that they could speak. Perhaps the two of them had discussed the invasion and the emperor had merely confused Kayiv for Stavel.
He stopped at Kayiv’s door and knocked. He heard no reply from within, and was about to leave in search of Dusaan when the door opened, revealing the minister, his bright yellow eyes bleary with sleep, his hair disheveled.
“Forgive me, Minister. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Kayiv peered into the corridor as if to reassure himself that Stavel was alone.
“What can I do for you, Chancellor?”
Now that he was standing before the man, Stavel wasn’t certain how to ask the question. The two of them had never gotten along very well, in part because they invariably found themselves on the opposite sides of every argument. Stavel thought the minister ill-mannered, and no doubt Kayiv saw him as weak and narrow-minded.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you remained with the high chancellor after our discussion today.”
Kayiv narrowed his eyes. “Yes. What of it?”
“Did you and he speak of commencing the invasion earlier than we had planned?”
The man’s brow furrowed. “The invasion?”
“Yes. I’ve just come from the gardens, where I saw the emperor. He complimented me on the compromise I proposed for the dispute in Grensyn, and then said that he had been pleased to hear that we were in favor of beginning the invasion early. I thought perhaps you would know what he meant.”