“Cross’s tasks are not subject to discussion,” Ma Ju Ro answered. “And they do not matter here. Let’s continue. Herdinia suggests that we fight the enemy here. Any objections?”
“It’ll be a siege...” Hustig said, apparently deep in thought. He stared at Herdinia heavily. “My dear first advisor! It’s bad enough that you suggest that we let the enemy approach the city, so that he can pin us to the sea and cut off all our lines of retreat. On top of that, you suggest that we hide in holes like rats! And the holes aren’t even that safe! Rezsinius has men in the city. Yes, they’re hidden, but if the southerners arrive at the capital’s walls, we’ll need to be prepared for a strike from within. Saboteurs, traitors of all kinds, or just bitter people that decide to betray the city to get favor from the new future ruler...”
“There’s something else,” Lodyger interjected, speaking for the first time at this council session. He coughed, looked to one side and spoke monotonously. “Speeches are not my strong suit. But there’s something else. The manufacturers and workshops are already complaining that their operations are being sabotaged. The fire yesterday in the leatherworking district was the work of Ignatius the Furious...”
“He’s the leader of the capital’s criminal gangs,” Hector explained to the emperor.
“Master Hector is correct, that he is,” Lodyger confirmed. “His people are scaring the craftsmen, threatening to burn down their houses, rape their wives and daughters. Some lowlifes are throwing pig heads and dead rats through the windows of known shopworkers. And they’re demanding the same from all of them — to cease work, or worse, sabotage production, vandalize the workshops. A few fishermen had their boats and their entire catch stolen this morning. The day before yesterday, an ore delivery was hijacked...”
“Why are they doing this?” the emperor asked.
“It’s obvious why!” General Hustig slammed his fist on the table. “They’re in cahoots with Rezsinius!”
“Now I see why some doctors are already refusing to go work at the clinic. They come up with nonsense excuses: one fell ill to inexplicable bouts of weakness, another’s grandmother died and he has to go to the funeral, a third went to a wedding in a village two hundred miles away, and weddings there last two whole weeks...”
“So the enemy is attacking on all fronts even while Rezsinius’s army is still two thousand miles away? Kolot, does the city watch have its head buried in the sand? Who leads it?” Ma Ju Ro frowned.
“Shoyrek. Or he did. He’s retired, claims he’s sick. His health has taken a turn, he says, he can’t help the country anymore. I let him go without a second thought, but...”
“We need to catch and hang all the bandits! Ruler, give me three days and I will cleanse the city of this filth!” Hustig spat.
“How do you plan to do that? Just going to grab everyone and ask them if they’re a bandit?”
“Why would I do that?” the general asked in surprise.
“You’re used to fighting on the battlefield, where everything is clear: here are yours, and there are the others, the enemy. But all the city’s people are citizens of the Empire. They don’t have it written on their foreheads that they’re bandits!” Hector said. “In the light of day, they look like ordinary vagrants.” They arm themselves at night, they fear nothing and no-one, on the contrary, they have everyone so scared that nobody will dare poke their nose out of their doors after sundown.”
“And your so-called soldiers...” Hustig muttered, smirking, “do they too fear to stick their noses out?”
“We’ve had pressy... preced... ents, ugh, we’ve had bad stuff happen,” he admitted unwillingly through clenched teeth. “And my guys got scared. Hell, they’re still being threatened. One captain had ‘Die!’ written on his wall in blood, but the man has balls. First he found the youths that wrote it, got the name of their ringleader out of them, the one that gave them the order. He pointed them to some thug and the captain and his boys paid the bastard a visit. Right in their lair!”
“Well done him!” Hustig couldn’t help but cry. “That’s the way to deal with those bastards!”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, general. The criminal escaped on a cart, no arrests were made. And in the morning, the captain and his family were found chopped to pieces. The walls were covered in blood to the ceiling. The chief investigator lost his breakfast as soon as he saw it!”
“What kind of weaklings do you have working for you?” Hustig shouted. “You’re making a chinil’s nest out of a molehill! Find those pieces of shit and send them to the scaffold! Do you have no martial men?”
“All my men are martial!” Hector shouted. “But they go home at night, to their families! To sleep, like normal people! I can’t put a guard on every house!”
In the complete silence after this spat between the general and commander, someone cleared their throat loudly. After coughing a while, the pale Lodyger wiped his brow with a handkerchief and spoke up.
“You mentioned chinils. Some villains threw a few of them at me and my wife in the night. Right into the bed. The guards weren’t snoozing, but they somehow got in anyway. They left a note...” He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a carefully folded paper. He unfolded it and read it: “‘Next time it’ll be your daughters’ heads, Lodyger! Don’t support Ma Ju Ro...’ Forgive me, but it says...”
“Read it, advisor, don’t worry,” the emperor encouraged him with a nod.
“‘... Ma Ju Ro the Fat, his days are numbered. Death to the tyrant! Glory to Rezsinius, the true emperor!’”
“You didn’t have to shout the last words so fanatically, Lodyger,” Herdinia said dryly. “Who is this Ignatius character? Do we have no way at all to control him?”
“I sent some people, and everyone who asked any questions concerning Ignatius the Furious went missing,” Hector said darkly. “I knew someone in their group known as Weasel, but he went missing too. We know that some time ago, he contacted all the leaders of the other bandit gangs. He invited them to a so-called Circle of Honor. To refuse this would be the first sign of weakness and cowardice for them. Nobody would follow such a leader, and so all agreed. We don’t know what happened there, but the next day, the criminal underworld in the capital changed. The only thing we know for sure is that all the gangs now have one leader — Ignatius the Furious.”
“Is it the same Ignatius who was once a gladiator, and then opened his own gladiator school?” Luca asked, his breath catching.
“Entirely possible,” Herdinia nodded. “The school closed when it became clear that the people had no money and they preferred to spend what they did have on food rather than on study. Ignatius himself disappeared, but now it all matches up.”
“Vensiro...” Luca said thoughtfully.
“Yes, sire?”
“I want all your criers and bards to loudly announce it in the capital: Ma Ju Ro the Fourth invites Ignatius the Furious to a Circle of Honor!”
Chapter 39. Ignatius the Furious and His People
“THERE’S SOMETHING ELSE,” Ma Ju Ro said, holding back Lentz as he went to leave. “How is Penant doing?”
Half a month ago, the emperor had heard rumors that Yadugara was dead. Nobody knew the details, but word was that something went wrong during a transfusion procedure.
“Alive and well,” the advisor on science and health shrugged his shoulders. “After Yadugara’s untimely demise, it became known that he was performing illegal transfusion procedures without consent from his patients. We knew that before, sire, but his lover, one Reyna Deratto, shared details that confirmed the senior apprentice’s allegations. Reyna was a slave, but his servants were paid, so the only one who served Yadugara for free was Penant. The healer had no family, so the boy was named his heir, especially after it turned out that he’d shared his life force with his master. The court decided to give all the property of the deceased to Penant, including his manor.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. As you asked, Koerlig
took the man on at the clinic. He had no chance of going into private practice, but he has knowledge. He’ll be useful,” Lentz concluded dryly.
Just as the door closed behind the one advisor, another appeared. Hector brought someone in.
“This is Weasel,” he introduced his companion to the emperor. “He has a message from Ignatius.” He turned to the messenger and tried to give him a clap round the head, but the target dodged. “Idiot! Who comes to an address with the emperor armed? “We took six throwing knives from you already. But you have two daggers and a knife in your boot-tops!”
“Dangerous streets out there, Mr. Kolot!” Weasel said in sincere indignation. “Crazy people’ll take the clothes off your back in the middle of the day, and the less said about the night the better! Your city watch can’t even catch a mouse!”
Hector shot a wrathful glance at his guest, but said nothing. The boy may be making fun of him, himself a member of the criminal underworld, but what he said was indisputable: the capital was in a time of chaos. And although some problems had been solved in recent months, the state was losing in the fight against crime. Not only that, but Ma Ju Ro had it on good authority that more and more former watchmen under Hector’s employ were switching to the enemy camp, joining those they were meant to fight against.
“Forgive me, your majesty.” The weasel clenched his fist over his heart and bowed his head. “Do excuse me.”
“You’re funny,” Ma Ju Ro smiled. “Rare is the man who will dare to argue with my advisors, particularly the fearsome Kolot Hector.”
“He’s like a son to me...” Hector said, embarrassed. “As I said, emperor, I’ve watched over this boy since his father died before his time... Apparently I haven’t been doing such a good job!”
“It’s my life,” the boy noted reasonably.
The emperor nodded, satisfied with the explanation, and extended a hand. The young man was surprised, but readily shook it. He looked around twenty five years old, but metamorphosis determined his age more exactly — nineteen. The boy’s eyes had aged, with a visible network of wrinkles at the corners. His gaze was hard and piercing.
He had a beard and gold earrings. For his age, young messenger of Ignatius the Furious stood confidently. Especially considering where he was and who he was with. The young man sported a fitted leather jacket, with a fur collar and lots of silver buttons, a silk shirt and velvet purple trousers tucked into high boots made of soft patent leather. The toe caps were crested with metal cleats. For street fights, Luca guessed.
“Pleased to meet you, Weasel,” the emperor said. “What did Ignatius ask you to pass on?”
“Your majesty,” the young man bowed his head. And considering that the ceremony could now be dispensed with, he smiled broadly. “The boss said your criers are wasting their breath. This ain’t how you do things...” He shied a little under Hector’s gaze and clarified. “This ain’t how we do things. It’s like, uh... You have to understand, your majesty, we’re simple people. The emperor is one thing, we’re another. We don’t obey your laws. Which is why we suffer when your hounds get hold of someone, and they get sent to the slammer, the mines, the block. But we get that. Costs of doing a hard business, and the only, as it were, point of shared interest...”
“Don’t overdo it, Kane!” Hector interrupted the man, frowning. “What are you babbling about?”
“What’s wrong, uncle Hector? I was told to say it, so I’m sayin’ it. Ignatius said we make our own rules and the laws of the Empire don’t apply to us. And if his majesty wants to play our game, then he’d better learn our rules better. I’m right in thinkin’ your majesty is challenging the boss?”
“Absolutely,” Ma Ju Ro laughed amicably.
“Well there you go!” the man said triumphantly. “You can’t catch him, so you’ve decided to use tricks like that to get around him. But you can’t just go and challenge the chief with us. Not until you prove your rights in the Circle with the captains, with the other bosses, the deputies. All the more if you’re a nobody.”
“A nobody?” the emperor said.
Hector clouted Weasel around the back of the head and the young man snapped.
“What the hell, uncle Hector? I’m passing on the boss’s words! And in our circles, his majesty really is a nobody. You gotta earn your reputation from nothing, whether you’re the High Priest of the Sacred Mother, Two-horns himself or the emperor. That’s what he said.”
“And?” Hector and Ma Ju Ro asked at once.
“And what? Your majesty, if he really wants to fight Ignatius and the others, has to make a challenge personally. Not like this. This is like a circus with lame horses. That’s what the boss said.”
“Personally? Has this Ignatius of yours gone completely mad?” Hector asked in amazement.
“He’s right, Kolot,” the emperor chuckled. He turned back to Weasel. “Listen, young man, I would like to make a personal challenge, but your boss is hiding like a rat in a hole. How do I challenge him if I don’t know where to find him?”
“He’s no rat,” the messenger replied, frowning. “And if you wanna meet him, I’ll take you to him. At night. Alone! We don’t got no trust for you clowns. You find out where our bosses do business, you’ll send your hounds after ‘em. Nah, Ignatius wasn’t born yesterday. He knows which side to grab a tit from.”
“What does that mean?” Hector asked, frowning.
“What?”
“About the tit. Do you mean to say that his imperial majesty has large breasts? What are you implying, you little rat? Your father is spinning in his grave right now!”
“That ain’t what I meant...” the young man shied back. “I mean Ignatius has reason to believe that his majesty’s challenge is nothing more than a ruse to catch Ignatius, and if he refuses, to hurt his... his street cred! His reputation, I’m sayin’”.
“Are these his words or are you sharing your own thoughts right now?” Ma Ju Ro asked. “About reputation and my treacherous plans?”
“My own,” Weasel admitted.
“Then let me tell you; you are wrong. I see no sense in catching Ignatius, because another Ignatius will rise to replace him. Not the Furious, but the Cruel or the Kind, that’s not the point. Nothing will change. Your brotherhood will still impede me and my people from building a worthy state and preparing for war. You are sabotaging construction works, intimidating craftsmen, threatening my advisors. I slept for a long time, Weasel, and gave away control of this land into the hands of dishonorable thieves, but now I have awoken. I know that rats, cockroaches and chinils cannot be completely wiped out, but I don’t want them to feel at home in the city my ancestors founded. To feel like masters!” Ma Ju Ro’s eyes burned with rage as he looked at Ignatius’s messenger, who unwillingly took a step back under that gaze. “Set me up a meeting with that boss of yours, the chief rat!”
“Your majesty!” Hector couldn’t help himself. “Don’t even think about it!”
“I will go alone,” Ma Ju Ro said, bringing his emotions back under control. “If your boss refuses, then I swear, every man in the Empire will hear of his cowardice!”
“I’ll come back for ya at midnight, your majesty,” Weasel said impassively. “He won’t refuse.”
* * *
Apart from Hector, the only person that learned of the emperor’s upcoming adventure was Herdinia. But in contrast to Luca’s fears, she didn’t try to change his mind. On the contrary, she looked at him with pride, kissed him on the cheek and wished him luck.
At midnight, after putting Keirinia into a sleep, he stole through the window of Hector’s office to the carriage waiting for him on the coastal side of the palace. It was empty apart from Weasel, who held the reins. The emperor and his advisor climbed inside and the carriage lurched forward, taking them to the palace gates.
“Emperor, if you would allow me...”
“No, Hector,” Ma Ju Ro said firmly. “I don’t want to put you at risk.”
“Good luck, sire!” Hector s
aluted, his fist at his chest. “May the Sacred Mother give you strength!”
They left Kolot by the gates and Weasel urged the horses on to the meeting with the leaders of the criminal underworld. They were moving quickly, but the trip still turned out to be long. All across the city, past the elite districts, through Merchant Square, Hunter’s Row and the stalls of the city’s craftsmen; through the slums where Weasel had to use both whip and word as a weapon, shouting out the fearsome names of well-known bandits and scaring off the local rabble and street urchins who decided to take interest in the contents of the carriage and its passengers’ pockets.
Against Hector’s urgings, the emperor was dressed plainly. Common trousers, a shirt and a thick leather cloak with a hood. He didn’t even take along the dagger that Kolot had stubbornly pressed on him.
Weasel didn’t say a single word to the emperor the whole way. Ma Ju Ro kept quiet as well, busy with checking and rechecking the enhancements of his metamorphosis and modeling in his mind all the possible dangerous outcomes.
Blood of Fate Page 28
