The Great Hearts II: A Game of Gods

by David Oliver

  For a long time I didn’t respond. I thought about the horrors we had all witnessed and been subjected to, to the extent that we didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. Was it really beneficial in the long term, or did it just scar us into being mentally numb? I thought back to Rikol’s dead stare, the complete change in personality he had had since Darren’s death. Would he have found his way back to his normal self if given enough time and support? Was this newer, darker version of him stronger in the face of adversity like the Academy hoped?

  Only time would tell.

  “And... what if we had been broken? Death is one thing, but what if our minds had not been up to the challenge and crumbled?”

  He stared at me, eyes weighing. “Then you would have been broken. Your mind in tatters from the strain. Some recover from such things, others don’t.” His eyes were intent on me now. “But you know that Calidan, and you’re not one for asking foolish questions. So tell me, what is it you really want to know?”

  Clever Korthan, he was always able to cut to the quick. “How much were we observed during the trial?” I asked, the question seeming to throw Korthan for a second.

  “Relatively little,” he replied, a curious look flittering onto his face. “Or, to put it more accurately, almost not at all. We have informants within the Meredothian community but when in the wilds you were largely on your own.”

  Largely.

  “When you say ‘largely’,” I began, “that suggests you had someone out there with us at least some of the time.”

  “It does.”

  “Want to tell me who?”

  “Not even slightly.”

  I took another sip of whisky. It really was excellent. “So it wasn’t perhaps a blue skinned, intelligent troll that helped us survive when we needed it most?”

  A fierce grin - he was proud of me for the question, which was an answer of sorts in its own way. “I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of any blue skinned troll that may or may not have provided support to you and your team throughout the exam.” His eyes twinkled, “But it would be strange to think that such a creature would provide assistance of its own accord.”

  I nodded and gave a small grin that didn’t reach my eyes. “Korthan,” I said slowly. “That troll knew me, and I knew it. We have met before; I am sure of it! Can you-”

  He held up a hand and cut me off. “Sorry lad I can’t discuss anything of this nature with Imps. It is well above your pay grade. Just know that whoever, whatever this blue troll of yours is, it can rest easy knowing that it helped you out and in doing so served the Empire.”

  “But-”

  “No ‘buts’ Calidan,” His tone was harsh and his eyes serious. “This cannot and will not be discussed. Not here. Not now. Understood?”

  Simmering anger flared into life in my chest but I swallowed the flames and nodded. “Understood.”

  He gave me a tight smile and leant back. “Good. Now tell me about the Meredothians.”

  We talked late into the night. Or at least late enough that by the time I left the library I was fairly certain it was more morning than night. Making my way back to the relaxing chambers and its bed that felt so familiar and yet so strange I collapsed and slept the sleep of the dead.

  Kane didn’t give us much of a lie in. At nine in the morning we were assembled in his office, coffees in hand, skins and leathers swapped for clothes that hadn’t been hacked off an animal or stolen from the dead. All of us had woken up earlier in the morning and gone to the baths, taking the time to thoroughly scrub out the dirt, grime and bad memories of the past months. It might not have done much for the memories but at least we smelled more fresh.

  Kane finished pouring the final cup of steaming black nectar for himself and sat on the edge of his desk, his gaze taking us all in, noting the changes in our physiques, the way we carried ourselves and - perhaps most telling of all - the differences in our eyes. Just as we began to squirm under the weight of his regard he spoke up, his voice deep and calm.

  “You survived.” It was a statement, not a question. “Congratulations. Not all do.”

  Silence.

  He gave a sad smirk and took a sip of coffee. “I know it feels rough. That’s because it is. The exam is different for every group and though we try to factor in the ability of the parties and the potential dangers they might face, it is largely guess work. And in the end that makes sense because often that is all Imperators have to go on. Rumour and hearsay. Often an Imperator doesn’t have the chance to head back or call in support if they find that they are in a more dangerous situation with a more deadly foe than expected and so they have to improvise. Adapt. Overcome. Or die. The exam, as I’m sure you found out, encompassed that kind of situation and I am pleased to say that from the feedback I have gathered you have all performed admirably.”

  Silence again.

  This time he blew a sigh out of his nostrils. “You know, no matter how many times I have had to do this moment, it never gets easier. If anything it gets more difficult, knowing what each fresh group is going to be in for, that it will be life changing and not always for the better. I’ve had teams come back and threaten to kill me - some have even tried - I’ve had teams who simply stopped caring at all, and I’ve had people who have accepted what the Academy did and does and attempted to immediately move past it. I can never predict exactly how it is going to turn out until I’m sitting here in front of you and so I can’t make a speech that perfectly embodies what you are feeling right now and answers all your questions. So,” he took another sip of coffee and rested it on his knee. “Ask away.”

  Rikol piped up first, his voice sombre. “How many?”

  “How many what?” Kane replied, head tilted.

  “...How many don’t make it back?”

  Kane took a deep, slow breath, his brow furrowed in thought. “The fourth-year exam has been going on for as long as anyone can remember. Korthan is one of the oldest members of the Academy and he says that he had never heard of it not being in place here. Put simply it’s too useful to give up. It tests our Imps and it solves whatever minor crisis the Academy or the Emperor decides needs solving but that doesn’t require a full Imperator. It’s one of the reasons that we operate such a fluid system of instruction at the Academy, with the exam only happening when we deem you ready for it and when there is a crisis of the right magnitude for your skill level. All of which goes…a long way to not answering your question.” A deep breath, as if he was steadying himself. “Out of every ten people to take the fourth-year exam, six return.”

  This time the silence wasn’t out of frustration or anger. Six?!

  ‘Six!” Scythe said incredulously. “Only six come back?”

  “How many a year go on the fourth-year exam?” Ella asked quietly.

  “Between ten to sixteen on average,” Kane answered, eyes dark. “The mortality rate is fairly high. The burn out rate following the exam is relatively high too. It is not, as you were all repeatedly told prior to the event, an easy exam. It is dangerous, often deadly, and offers a no-holds barred glimpse into the day-to-day life of an Imperator.”

  “Why not prepare them more, give them more time, more knowledge?” Sophia cried; her face distraught.

  “And would more time have made your trip particularly different?” Kane queried. “You all survived, which suggests that your skill levels were such that you were able to overcome the obstacles in your path. The completion of the fourth-year exam is a turning point in your time at the Academy. It shows that you are competent enough to begin external missions. Again, missions that are deemed to be too light for full-fledged Imperators to use their time on, but all will be dangerous in their own way. If we moved the exam to a later year then unless we increased the overall length of time to be spent at the Academy – which is unlikely considering the numbers we have to attempt to replenish on a yearly basis – you lose up to a year of real-world refinement.” A grimace. “As harsh as it is, this exam separates the whea
t from the chaff. Those who survive are deemed fit to continue into the later years of training and the others, well…”

  “Die?” Rikol said sardonically.

  Kane levelled a cool look at him. “Yes,” he said. “More often than not they die. And that is a sad loss for the empire, a terrible loss for their friends and family and a huge loss for humanity. Those that don’t are provided whatever support is in the Academy’s power to give. Some end up serving the empire in other ways, others are…unsuited to serve.”

  “And what happens to them?” Sophia asked.

  “They are looked after,” Kane said carefully. “They aren’t abandoned, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “And all of them are turned into monsters?” I asked, voice neutral.

  Kane went very still. He turned to look me in the eye. “And what do you mean by that Calidan?” he asked. There was a wary look in his eye as though we were discussing something very dangerous indeed.

  “Just something that we discussed on the way home,” I replied. “How we had a certain strange troll support us when we needed it most. A most unlikely scenario wouldn’t you say?”

  “Unlikely indeed,” Kane said slowly. “But not completely impossible.”

  “Well yes, completely impossible,” Rikol countered. “There has never been a single indication of an intelligent troll, everyone knows that they are there for one thing and one thing only; to eat you. So one coming out of the blue to help us over and over again is an impossibility.”

  “So why do you think the Academy has a hand in this?” asked Kane.

  “You mean aside from the Academy understanding the research behind combining Imperators with otherworldly creatures?” Scythe replied. “We’ve all seen it. You know that. So you may as well tell us what is going on.”

  Kane twisted his lips, lost in thought. “I know you’ve all seen things that generally Imps would not see or be made aware of for a long, long time. But there are certain elements that prevent me from talking about this. Other countries would kill and have killed for this information, and having been subjected to the type of treatment that you might expect to receive at the hands of another country’s inquisition I think we can all agree that not knowing is the best defence.”

  It was a compelling argument and we all knew it. All of us could remember the terror and the pain that we had felt during the early days of the exam. Everyone breaks and the empire could then protect its most precious secrets by keeping the pool of people who knew them to a minimum.

  “When would you usually tell an imp this information?” Cassius asked.

  “Never,” Kane said simply. “Only full-fledged Imperators would be privy to this, and even then it would be on a need-to-know basis. You already know a substantial amount more than several of the newer Imperators regarding the Academy’s dealings with other...races,” he finished tactfully. “As you might imagine we keep this information as confidential as it gets. It might not be too surprising to realise that there was quite a case for your immediate silencing following the events of your journey into the desert. Thankfully there was more than enough support, not least from the Emperor himself, to keep you around.”

  “Well that’s just brilliant,” muttered Rikol angrily. “You go on missions to unknown areas of the world and fight murderous kind of alive but not quite alive scorpions, find information that the Emperor himself wanted and lose a friend in the process but we still get nearly ‘removed’? What does the Academy think it is?! What right does it have to decide that we should be killed for our knowledge?”

  Kane snorted. “The Academy answers to the Emperor and the Emperor alone Rikol. You know that. You knew what this life was. The Emperor himself told you it would be hard, just like you were told that once in the Academy you are part of this for life - whether you want to be or not. The Academy will do what it must to protect the Andurran Empire and it does that job proudly. If you had been removed due to what you had discovered it would not be the first time that had happened. Some information is too important to let anyone know. Some information is best kept locked away, the key in the Emperor’s - and only the Emperor’s - hand.

  “I can understand you being angry, I can understand the rage and horror at that statement. But the key fact that you all seem to be forgetting is that you belong to the Emperor. His word is law and if he says you die to protect something he deems important; it will be so.” A fervent gleam appeared in Kane’s eyes, his expression growing a little wild. “His knowledge, his power is beyond anything you might imagine. With his understanding and intellect the Andurran Empire has grown to what it is today and will continue to reach new heights…as long as we are ready to sacrifice ourselves to achieve that goal.”

  A pause filled the room, filling its nooks and crannies until it was fit to burst. Cassius took the plunge.

  “I don’t think any of us here think any less of the Emperor, but are you suggesting that he is more than human?”

  ‘The Emperor is unlike other mortals,” Kane answered. “I have seen him take a blow that would fell Adronicus in a heartbeat and shrug it off like it was nothing. I’ve known him for twenty years and would swear that he hasn’t aged a day whilst I have got old and slow. He is- “

  “-Very pleased to see you all.”

  Chapter 22

  Emperor

  The thunderous voice rumbled through the office, cutting off Kane’s words as the door to the room flung open with a bang and the Emperor strolled inside. He was clad in a finely crafted white silk shirt and blue corded trousers that must have cost a fortune, not just for the quality and dye but for the sheer quantity of the material required, and despite his lack of armour I could have sworn that the room shook with the force of his strides. He stopped next to Kane’s desk and turned to take a seat on the edge of the desk next to Kane, who looked like he didn’t know whether to be thrilled or alarmed. I could hear the wood groan under the sheer weight of the man. When he was settled his gaze scanned us all and each one of us buckled beneath the intensity of his regard. When under his gaze it was like being in the path of a charging great boar, you felt rooted to the ground and unable to act or think. After a few moments his eyes relaxed as though he was happy with what he saw before him and a wide smile spread from eye to eye.

  “Children,” he thrummed, “it is so very pleasing to see you. I’ve been keeping an eye on your exploits and have found your actions to be most satisfactory indeed. Congratulations.”

  We all stammered our thanks at his approval which he waved off. “It is my thanks that you shall have and not the other way round. Kane here,” he put a plate sized hand on Kane’s shoulder and gave him an intent look, “knows that today would have been better spent in celebration of your efforts rather than a debriefing.” Kane shrank back with a chagrined look. “So you have five minutes more of questions with me which I will do my utmost to answer as long as it doesn’t impact national security and then you are to prepare yourselves for a visit to your mess hall where I have taken the liberty of inviting my chefs to prepare a most marvellous spread. I like to see my people rewarded for their efforts where possible.” He paused a moment to let his message sink in and for the grins to reach our faces at the prospect of the divine food we had once eaten at the top of his tower in what felt like a previous lifetime. “So,” he rumbled, “ask.”

  And with that option before us, with the ability to ask any question of the Emperor, the man that Kane had just billed as the most knowledgeable individual in the Empire if not the world…words failed. Minds blank we looked at each other dumbly, each hoping another would ask the first question.

  “Come,” he said gently after a good thirty seconds of uncomfortable shifting. “Fear not, ask your questions.”

  “The troll,” I forced out and immediately Kane’s face darkened. He moved to open his mouth but a raised hand from the Emperor forestalled him.

  “The troll is an experiment. One of several. You have met the results of similar experim
ents before, Merowyn being one. In this instance much of the joined beast came to the fore, rendering speech impossible but importantly sentience and much of the person’s individuality remained, resulting in a useful tool. As you have experienced its battlefield potential is outstanding, its ability to heal combined with its strength and power is a combination hard to rival.” He seemed pleased with the troll much like a breeder for hounds would be for a successful litter.

  “But,” I said slowly, “but it was…is a person is it not?”

  “It was. A broken and crushed person in no shape to be useful to the empire. Now it is something more.”

  “Who was it?”

  His eyes met mine. “That, young Calidan, is not for me to reveal. I have no doubt that you will meet again and I will not rob that creature of its satisfaction for the grand revelation. Rest assured that the creature is not in pain and I have no doubt that it appreciates its new role in life.”

  A frustrating answer. Nodding my head respectfully I leant back against the wall to ponder his words. He had given us more than Kane but it still wasn’t much, just a promise that we would meet again. I wasn’t sure if that made me relieved or concerned. Probably a bit of both.

  Cassius perked up. “The Hrudan. Did you know they were a threat before we were sent there?”

  A thunderous chuckle shook the room. “Of course! Jadira sent me a request for support some time ago, but I have other sources of information that allowed me to predict the Hrudan plans. The Meredothians are sometime Andurran allies and I have been content to keep friendships and open trade routes with them for they act as a defensive buffer against threats to the Empire from the north west just by the act of being in the way. It benefitted me to send you over there as it provided a decent training exercise for you whilst suggesting that we were taking the Hrudan threat seriously which would strengthen their gratitude to the empire.”