“Majesty!”
The artifact glittered in the lamplight, swinging from the emperor’s finger. “The evidence speaks against you, Lord Master.”
“Your Imperial Majesty, no! I beg of you…”
He kept begging while soldiers dragged him from the room. He was still at it when the door closed behind him. Reiter stared at another shepherdess, sweat sticking his uniform to his back. Locked in position in front of the emperor, he’d seen none of what had just happened. That should have made it less affecting. It didn’t.
“Tavert.”
The conservatively dressed young woman sitting on a stool just behind the emperor’s chair taking notes on a lap desk, looked up. “Majesty?”
“We’ll try Doctor Lord Camberton as the new Lord Master. It should make him happy. He’s wanted the job long enough.” The emperor’s smile made him look almost too young for his responsibilities. “Try to make it clear that I’d rather he not overshare his happiness with me.”
“Yes, Majesty.”
The emperor straightened, the languid posturing gone, and Reiter found himself back under the regard of a piercing blue gaze. He made a mental note to ignore the affectations.
“You showed initiative, Captain Reiter, using the drug to keep the mage under control. I like that.” The corners of the Imperial mouth flicked up into a quick smile. “I’d have liked it better had it been successful, but still, initiative. I’ve had an opening on my staff since Major Halyss left—somehow his father convinced me that the major’s knowledge of mage-craft would be of more use on the front, given what the Swords are fighting in Aydori—and I’d like you to fill it.”
Well aware he wasn’t being asked if he wanted the job, Reiter managed a fairly neutral, “Sir?”
“I found Major Halyss’ study of mage-craft to be of use in my own research. You don’t have his academic background, but you’ve certainly had more exposure in the field and that might be of equal, albeit different, use. Also, your appointment should stop Lieutenant Geurin’s uncle from petitioning me on his behalf. The man’s an idiot. Actually, both men are idiots. It’s a family trait.” Reiter came to attention as the emperor stood. “Walk with me, Captain.”
A small door at the back of the room led to an empty hall—the walls the first without wallpaper he’d seen since arriving in the palace. When the emperor beckoned him forward, Reiter fell in behind his right shoulder. When His Imperial Majesty, Exalted ruler of the Kresentian Empire, Commander in Truth of the Imperial army, said walk, there was only one option. Reiter suspected his legs would have obeyed regardless.
“When my father redesigned the palace, he added a way to get to the public rooms without having to deal with the public. Why should the servants have all the privacy?”
The emperor wasn’t particularly tall. The top of his head just cleared Reiter’s shoulder. Had he been a soldier not the emperor, Reiter would have described him as just over tit high on the average whore.
“I find myself with a decision to make, Captain. You’re aware of the reason you were in Aydori?”
“The Soothsayers’ prophecy, Majesty.”
“You don’t approve.”
Reiter thought he’d kept that from his voice.
“Of my using Soothsayers in general—and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how different your circumstances would be had the Soothsayers not Seen you—or of this prophecy in particular?” The question sounded conversational, but then every word out of the emperor’s mouth had sounded conversational.
Reiter couldn’t lie to the emperor. He was the emperor. “I think combat requires initiative that might be stifled by Soothsayers, Majesty.”
“Ah, yes, a soldier’s opinion.” He didn’t sound as though he disapproved. “I, however, need to maintain a wider perspective. Soothsayers are useful for that. One in six or six in one. Empires rise or empires fall, the unborn child begins it all. Clearly, I intend to see the empire rise. It’s in the nature of doing my job. Unfortunately, although the Soothsayers are quite emphatic about the sixth mage eventually arriving at the palace, they’ve Seen nothing about how she gets here. Is she captured again? Do you think that’s likely, Captain.”
“Not easily, Majesty.”
“Not easily.” The emperor frowned. “Well, then, let’s hope she’s being drawn by the power of the prophecy. However, in case the prophecy could use a little help…Tavert.”
“Majesty.”
“I want the army in Traiton and Pyrahn on high alert. Have Major Halyss pulled from the front and put in charge of making very certain my sixth mage is heading in the right direction. Major Halyss is more of a thinker than a fighter. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to have something less dangerous to do.”
“I’m not sure she’s less dangerous,” Reiter said without thinking.
The emperor actually stopped walking long enough to stare into his face. As a drop of sweat rolled down his side, Reiter figured it wouldn’t hurt to show a few nerves. After a long moment, the emperor smiled. “I like you, Captain.”
There didn’t seem to be anything to say to that but, “Thank you, Majesty.”
Although the area next to the road became more built up as they moved deeper into the empire, it took a while to find what they needed. A skirt snatched off one line then later, a belt to cinch it tight. A shawl taken off another line. While Mirian might have no understanding of the whys and whens of laundry, she trusted her ability to judge price. And she thanked the Lord and Lady when they finally found a shirt. From a distance, she now looked like any lower class woman of the empire. Up close, however…
“This thing has no support!”
Head cocked, Tomas frowned as she twitched the unbleached muslin back and forth. “Why does it matter?”
“It tells anyone with eyes, I don’t belong here. Also, it hurts when I run.”
On the list of things Mirian thought she’d never do, shopping for Imperial undergarments off village clotheslines had to be right at the top. Running across the empire with Tomas Hagen to rescue the Mage-pack was an unlikely, but possible, childish daydream. Stumbling around in the dark, avoiding houses with geese, to find the ridiculous number of items Imperial fashion required to replace a simple set of banding, would never have occurred to her. She missed the simplicity of Aydori clothing.
In spite of Tomas’ protests that they were merely living off the enemy, which was perfectly legitimate in a time of war, they left a little money at every house they took clothing from.
Seedlings pulled from the edges of gardens, she assumed no one would miss. They all looked the same to her, a darker blur in the shadows of the night, so maturing them was always a surprise. They grew a lot of cabbage in this part of the empire. And onions.
Turning into the breeze, Mirian pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders and tried to figure out why she’d been feeling anxious all morning. “It’s like I can almost hear something. Something important.”
“Danika?”
It was possible, but she’d heard Lady Hagen’s voice on the breeze and this didn’t sound the same. “I don’t think so.” It sounded less…directed. “If there’s Pack in the empire, are there mages here, too?”
Tomas shrugged. “There’s mages all over. But Ryder says…said, Imperial mages aren’t much. First and second levels if that.”
Maybe that was it. Maybe it was nothing more than a mage without enough power to be understood. But flinching at a shadow, her reaction not her own, Mirian didn’t think so.
Midafternoon, Tomas stopped running so suddenly she nearly tripped over him. His head went up, nose into the breeze. His ears flattened, his hackles rose.