“Talmor is my country now.” Octavia did not feel conviction in the words, but she had to acknowledge the emperor’s generous gift of the Investment of Citizenship.
“Is it? I admit, I half expected you to return the token.”
Her face warmed. If Korbin had not told her doing so would offer insult, she would have. She didn’t know how to respond to the emperor, so she repeated Korbin’s words. “You gave me an honor many born here cannot aspire to, much less a foreigner. I have not the wealth, connections, nor the ambition to have achieved it on my own.”
“I’m glad you understand what citizenship means. The status of citizen of Talmor creates both privilege and responsibility.” He paused. “You’re going to need to work on your manners, however, if you’re going to stay here to advise me. I’m afraid you scandalized my Lord of Finance with your unconventional ways.”
Octavia locked her eyes on the emperor. “Stay here? No. Impossible.” After a moment, she added, “Your highness.” Then with an indignant tone, “And there’s nothing wrong with my manners. I’ve been very polite. I’ve not treated you any differently than I would anyone, and no one has ever accused me of bad manners before.”
He chuckled and sat back, laying his arm across the back of the bench. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone talk to me ‘the way they would anyone else’. It’s refreshing.”
Octavia had the distinct feeling he was laughing at her. “Be that as it may, I am not staying. I’ve come as you asked, but only because I feared what would happen if Braetin’s people got Seba under their power. That must not happen.”
“So you said. You also said you are Talmoran now. Therefore, I am your emperor. If the emperor requests that a citizen serve the empire, the citizen considers it an honor and does so to the best of her ability.”
Octavia’s thoughts whirred in her mind. Was this why he had given her citizenship? She cursed Korbin silently. If she’d sent the token back, the emperor might have been offended, but not surprised, and then she wouldn’t be in this situation.
“Your highness, I have obligations. I realize I owe you a great deal, but I owe the Kilovian community of Vol even more. They look to me for help and guidance, and I cannot leave them with no conduit to see to their needs. You could ask any one of the conduits here in Durjin to advise you. The man who represents the Sennestelle and leads all the conduits here is called Betram. I’d be happy to facilitate an introduction.”
The emperor nodded thoughtfully while she talked. He looked out over the grove while he spoke. “Like you, I have obligations. But instead of seeing to one small piece of the population, I must see to the needs of every living soul in Talmor. Upon last count, that was some nine hundred thousand people spread over a hundred thousand square miles. Only twenty-five percent of them live in the cities around the empire. This doesn’t even include those of foreign birth who are here on permission.”
“So, you understand why I must go back.”
“Imagine how well you could serve the people of your community here. Are there no concerns that you wished someone would listen to? I would listen to the needs of your people; for as long as they make their homes in Talmor, they are my people too.”
Octavia considered how easily he had commanded a road be repaired simply because of her offhand comment. Would he really do something to improve the conditions of her people? But then, if she stayed here, who would see to the sick and injured? She argued silently with herself. On one hand, Talmoran hospitals would not turn them away. But on the other, who would preside over death rites, bless the newborns, or advise those who had lost their way? She’d gone through the same struggle when deciding to come here in the first place, but to stay?
She opened her mouth to voice her protests again, but he cut her off. “I know one of your concerns is that the people of Vol will have no one of the Sennestelle to tend to them. Would not the Sennestelle send people from Durjin or nearby communities? Have you asked for their help following the loss of your fellow practitioners?”
“No,” she said “Not yet. I…” Her voice trailed off. She should have asked for assistance sooner, but Vol was her home, her responsibility. She’d meant to write to them before she left Vol, but instead, she entrusted all to her inexperienced apprentice, a mark of her own foolish pride. She’d underestimated how long it would take to get to Durjin and never anticipated she might be required to stay.
In one respect, the emperor’s offer would give her time away from her work. A part of her would welcome the reprieve. Ever since she woke from her coma, she hadn’t been herself. Her meditations didn’t come easily. She felt inexplicably conflicted and angry, then the next moment, she’d find herself shaking in fear.
“I know this is a difficult time,” he said. “Your sister conduits were killed in a most brutal way, and there can be no justice for them.” His tone was surprisingly bitter. “I am helpless to give you that justice, as the Red Manus who took them were acting under the orders of the senate in a time of crisis.”
“We who follow the teachings of the One know that to seek justice is often a remedy that brings no satisfaction. My sisters are gone, as well as my mentor. He, at least, received proper death rites. My sisters, however, never had their bones returned from Braetin’s temple.” She hadn’t asked, of course. She would not go near that temple again, knowing the power of the creature that lurked within. But it burned her mind every day that their bodies had never been returned.
“I will speak to Ultim Qardone Graiphen on the matter the next time I see him. I will do my best to see their remains are returned to their families,” he said softly.
Octavia felt hope flutter in her chest. “You will see him soon?”
“I am the emperor,” Jorek said with a chuckle. “I can see anyone in the empire, if I wish to. Graiphen has been petitioning me for an audience nearly every day. I wanted to speak with you and Dul Korbin before I made my decision. I can ask him to join us now, if you want to witness my request.”
Octavia’s skin went cold at the thought of meeting Graiphen face to face. “No,” she said, then swallowed hard, taking a moment to calm herself. “Thank you. I do not need to witness it. If you say you will ask, I believe you.”
“I’m glad to hear that. So, we are agreed? You will speak to this Sen Betram to ask for the support of the Sennestelle. If they agree to send conduits to replace you in Vol temporarily, then you will stay. If they don’t agree, I won’t insist that you remain. I understand and respect your sense of duty.”
Octavia was trapped. If she asked for help, the Sennestelle would send it, especially if they knew the reason was that she was offered a position, even a temporary one, to advise the emperor.
“You haven’t said, your highness, exactly what you wish to hear my advice on. I’ve told you what you should do with Seba.”
“It’s not as simple a process as one might think. Besides, I consider this an opportunity to understand your people and your culture better. Is there anything else I can offer? Any way I can convince you to stay? You will be my guest here at the palace, of course.”
“Will Korbin remain as well?”
“You and he are… companions?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Nothing romantic. He is a friend. He has a good soul. It would be comforting to know I had a friend nearby, someone I could trust. Someone who could advise me on topics such as manners.” She allowed herself a small smile, which the emperor returned.
“Good. I’ll see that he stays.”
She rushed to add, “Only if he wants to. If you make him stay, of course he would, but I don’t want anyone forced on my behalf.”
The emperor’s smile widened. “I have no doubt that he would choose to stay simply because his emperor asked, but very well. I’ll make it plain that this is an invitation, not a command. Anything else?”
An idea popped into Octavia’s head. “Do you have a library?”
“An intriguing question. And yes, of cour
se. The citizen’s library in Durjin is the largest in the empire. I have a private library as well. Some of my personal collection are close to a thousand years old.”
“Perfect,” she said, her thoughts ticking. “Religious texts pertaining to the eight Spirits are the most relevant to me. The older, the better.”
“May I ask why?” He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on hers with interest.
“Braetin said something strange to me. She used the phrase Child of Eurmus and Servant of Eurmus to refer to conduits. Before now, I’ve had no way to find out what it meant. I didn’t have access to the library in Vol, since it’s restricted to citizens. I’d very much like to search your texts for references.”
The emperor hesitated only a moment. “I’ll ask Dul Stahte to assign you a research scribe. You can begin your investigation immediately, if you wish. I’ll interrupt you from time to time as the need arises, but otherwise, your time will be your own. I’ll see that my personal library is always available to you.”
That phrase had even featured in her nightmares. Children of Eurmus are not to be trusted, the goddess had said to Octavia. Braetin considered Eurmus to be her enemy, and Octavia wanted to find out who he was and why the Talmoran Spirit feared him.
“Very well,” she said. “I’ll stay. For now.”
Chapter 9
Rumors had begun to float around the temples about the demi-god Zain, born of a lowly acolyte. When asked by the priests of Braetin, Graiphen confirmed he knew the claims to be true. This caused some grumbling amongst their number. They wanted to know why Braetin had not chosen to honor her followers in the same way. What a privilege it would be, they said, to bear the child of a goddess or to be the one selected to plant the seed.
Graiphen didn’t listen long to these conversations. He told his fellow priests not to question Braetin’s will. He suspected she would not relish the idea of participating in mating with a human. If she did, he doubted the process would be as pleasurable as it had inarguably been when he took Kiarana at Pang’s command.
He recalled the conversation where he’d heard Pang and Braetin arguing. His ways were perversion, Braetin had said. His ways were successful, Pang had replied. Could this be what they’d been talking about? He also recalled how Braetin had hesitated in the face of Pang’s argument. He shuddered at the thought.
He reflected that the priests who spoke of such things had never truly felt Braetin’s presence the way those in Vol had. He wondered if it would be of benefit to send some of them to her, to rotate the priests in various parts of the empire so all could learn how to serve her better and teach her ways throughout Talmor.
Today, for the second time since arriving in Durjin, he’d been summoned to Kiarana. He wished the emperor would answer his requests for an audience; Graiphen knew no good would come of staying too long in Pang’s presence. She was by nature a temptress, and he’d learned long ago not to give in to the whims of a fickle and seductive woman, whether mortal or divine.
A temple servant dressed Graiphen carefully in his formal robes, and once again, the Ultim Qardone set out across the temple complex to obey Pang’s request. As he walked, Graiphen considered another rumor he’d heard. It was said that his own son Korbin and the witch Octavia had arrived in Durjin the day before. According to reliable witnesses, they’d gone to the palace at the emperor’s request this very afternoon.
The situation made Graiphen itch. His son had caused so many problems already. The boy had been offered a seat on the Council of Eight, the senate’s representatives for the eight surrounding provinces in and around Vol, but fortunately, he had no aptitude nor desire to take up politics. Graiphen had hoped that when the boy inherited Eliam’s property and title, he would take his place in Vollian society like dozens of other nameless noblemen and settle into a quiet life of meaningless pursuits: hunting, attending balls, spending money, and providing employment for others.
But if the emperor interfered with what seemed to be his son’s inevitable path, Korbin would, once again, get in Graiphen’s way. The boy had proved to be a disappointment early in his adult life, and now he was becoming a nuisance to boot. Why, though? Why would the emperor call on Korbin? He had no skills or talents that others did not possess in greater abundance.
The call to the witch was even more puzzling. Yes, she had been Braetin’s catalyst for bringing down Seba, but he had already honored her beyond what was appropriate for that feat. Besides, alone, she could not have done it, while Braetin would have found a way. The mistress might be more limited than she was in the old days, due to things that had happened since the gods left this realm some centuries ago, things Graiphen did not understand. But she would return to strength. The old ways would return.
The emperor owed fealty to the gods. No man was above them. In the time since the Spirits had withdrawn their presence, though, men had grown too bold. They’d forgotten the power the Spirits wielded. Graiphen himself had begun to show them. In Vol, no one doubted the power of the temple anymore. Durjin would have its turn as well.
These thoughts brought his focus once again to Pang. Clearing his head, he entered her temple and made his way down to the inner sanctum, which it seemed Kiarana rarely left.
Graiphen paused at the door, reminding himself to be vigilant against Pang’s seductive words. He belonged to Braetin. He would not be tempted to betray her.
As soon as he touched the door, a heavy, throbbing presence beckoned him in. The strength of it surprised him. When he pushed the door, it swung back as though of its own accord, slamming the heavy wood into the wall beyond.
Kiarana lay on the bed, propped languidly against the pillows. A young man lay nearby, tracing a finger over her exposed breast, staring at it with interest. For a moment, Graiphen thought the boy was Korbin. Revulsion spread over him when he realized it was Zain, grown rapidly since their first meeting ten days ago. He appeared to be just past puberty, but watching him, it was clear to Graiphen that Zain was not human, and human landmarks would mean nothing.
When Graiphen stepped in, both mother and son looked up. Kiarana smiled. “Good. You are here.” Her voice thrummed with power. Her skin radiated and glowed. “The time has come,” she said.
Graiphen bowed. “For what, Lady Pang?”
The boy watched Graiphen with interest, but said nothing.
“For your choice, of course.” Kiarana stood, leaving the boy to lay on the bed. Adjusting her gown to cover her, she focused her eyes on Graiphen. The boy looked disappointed, as a puppy whose mother has tired of suckling him.
“My choice?”
“Soon Zain will be ready to make his appearance, and Durjin will be mine. Already they come, the faithful, to offer themselves, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. The anticipation is growing. The city wants him.” She turned and glanced at her son, her face glowing with pride. “Soon, the whole world will want him.” She paused. “And his brothers and sisters. His children. He’s almost ready. He grows more every day.”
“My choice, as you call it, is clear,” Graiphen said. “I have fulfilled my mistress’s command to bring you here and to help you get established. I have one other task to do for her, as you know. When I have succeeded at that, I will take Seba back to her, and she will reward my faithfulness.”
“Will she?” Pang asked, Kiarana’s voice warbling as though two voices spoke at once. Her expression mocked Graiphen. “You of all living humans know Braetin’s proclivity for betrayal.”
Graiphen didn’t answer. Instead, he watched as Zain stood and went to his mother. He sat on the ground at her feet and began toying with the hem of her sheer robes. Although Graiphen did not allow himself to think of this creature as part of him, he could not help but see the superficial resemblance to Korbin. My son, he thought. What would Zain grow into? What would Pang do with the boy? He was clearly only an adolescent. But at the rate he was developing, he would appear as a man in mere days. What would he unleash upon the city then?
“What
if you don’t succeed?” Pang smiled knowingly, as though she possessed a secret pertaining to him.
Graiphen wondered what she was withholding. “I will succeed.” The confidence he put into his voice was feigned, something he’d learned to do long ago as a senator.
“Will you? I understand the Child of Eurmus, the one who injured your mistress, she has the emperor’s ear now. Do you think this woman will advise him to give Seba to you? Or do you think she will do everything in her power to keep him away from you, to see him killed, even? Once dead, Seba will be beyond even Braetin’s reach. Even we of the realm beyond have our limits.”
Graiphen bowed his head, thoughts whirring in his head. How did Pang know so much? As far as he knew, she’d been cloistered here since her arrival in Durjin. His people would have told him if she’d ventured out. But she was a goddess, and any in her temple would tell her anything she wished to know. Clearly, she wished to know anything to do with Graiphen.
“I must succeed, Lady Pang, and hope remains. The emperor will listen to me and the wisdom of accepting my offer. No matter the emperor’s efforts to encourage tolerance of Kilovian ways, but when my mistress, and you, of course, reach your full power, no one will doubt that the Spirits of Light and Shadow are the only real gods.”
“An inspiring thought.” Pang’s borrowed voice dripped with derision.
“The witch may advise him one way, but she is a foreigner who practices profane magic. Now that I know she is infiltrating the palace, I can inform the senate.”
Kiarana’s lips curled into a smile. “I very nearly believe your plan might work. If only I didn’t know otherwise.”
“My lady?” Graiphen made an effort to hide his discomfort as Zain laughed softly to himself.
“Braetin is using you as an instrument to acquire one she deems better. What plans do you think she will have for a spare tool once Seba is by her side? And if you fail to secure his release? Perhaps you will be mounted on one of the rows of pillars with all of the others whose flesh and fear feed her? I doubt even feeding on your soul would satisfy her. No, for those who feed her, she gives some pleasure along with the pain, some respite from time to time. If you are the one who stands between her and Seba? Seba, whom she believes will give her power to rival the days of old? No, there will be no respite to your sacrifice, Graiphen. But perhaps it matters little to you?”
Born Of Fire And Darkness (Book 2) Page 8
