The Emperor

by Norman, John;

  “I noted, within your robes, as I brushed past you in leaving the palace,” said Otto, “the handle of a dagger.”

  “As you move like a vi-cat,” said Iaachus, “it was surprising to me that you were so clumsy.”

  “I trust that the blade, as was that of a dagger transmitted long ago to Tangara, was not coated with a thin, transparent layer of poison, such that the least scratch would, within a breath, prove lethal.”

  “Certainly not,” said Iaachus. “I would not risk such a blade about my person. It is one thing to entrust such a blade to a dispensable assassin and quite another to carry it oneself.”

  “Do you notice anything unusual about the placement of our chairs?” asked Otto.

  “Not really,” said Iaachus.

  “They are unobstructed,” said Otto. “They repose near the open portal. They are to its left, as one would enter. In this way, we cannot see what might ascend the stairs, and, if it wished, swiftly cross the tiles between the portal and our position.”

  “It is from that direction then that the attack will come?” asked Iaachus.

  “That seems likely,” said Otto.

  “I anticipate more than a single assassin,” said Iaachus.

  “There will be several,” said Otto. “It would be foolish to entrust the matter to one blade.”

  “I wish we were clearer on matters,” said Iaachus.

  “We are clear enough,” said Otto. “If the plot is well devised, and I assume it to be so, it has little choice but to proceed in a certain fashion.”

  “Not all senators are here as yet,” said Iaachus, looking about.

  “Put another way,” said Otto, “not all places are yet filled.”

  “I do not think several assassins could force their way through the guards,” said Iaachus.

  “Perhaps they will not have to force their way,” said Otto.

  “The primarius approaches,” whispered Iaachus.

  “Your majesty,” said Safarius, “the hour of meeting is upon us. I think it apt to begin.”

  “It seems several of your body are absent,” said Iaachus.

  “They are inadvertently delayed,” said Safarius.

  “Perhaps,” said Iaachus, “they choose not to attend, this expressing a disinclination to support the current regime.”

  “Certainly not,” said Safarius. “Transportation failed, hoverers being ill-arranged, a confusion of scheduling. I have received word they will be here presently.”

  “Excellent,” said Otto.

  “Perhaps momentarily,” said Safarius. He glanced to the wide portal, and then returned his attention to Otto. “As there are many honors to bestow on your majesty, and a number of speeches explaining and justifying these honors, which will take some time, I think it would be judicious to proceed, beginning with some minor business.”

  “By all means, do so,” said Otto.

  “Have you a quorum?” asked Iaachus.

  “Yes, dear Arbiter,” said Safarius.

  “Barely,” said Iaachus.

  “Yes, barely,” said Safarius. He then turned to Clearchus Pyrides, the moderator of the senate, seated somewhat below, at his table, and nodded.

  Pyrides then lifted his small gavel, and stuck the shallow wooden plate before him, solemnly, three times. “The senate,” he said, “is now in session.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “The house recognizes the noble Orontius, senator of the realm, envoy to the palace,” said Pyrides.

  Orontius then rose from his place.

  “It is now, at long last, happily, other business done,” said Orontius, “the time to engage upon the major business for which this meeting was called, that aspect of our meeting to which we have looked forward with such anticipation, our doing of honor to the friend of the poor, the defender of the needy, the dispenser of justice, the fountain of mercy, the righter of wrongs, the smoother of troubled waters, the shield and bulwark of the state, the occupant of the throne.”

  Polite applause greeted this announcement.

  Also, unnoticed by Orontius, and, presumably, Clearchus Pyrides, there was a stirring behind them, in the tiers.

  “Ho,” said Orontius, looking forward, outward, toward the broad portal, “I see many of our missing senators have arrived, and are ascending the steps.”

  “Our back is covered, is it not?” asked Iaachus.

  “Yes,” said Otto, not turning about. “Changes have taken place in the tiers.”

  Crowded, now, in the portal, were several individuals, in the purple-trimmed robes of the senate.

  “Welcome, noble colleagues,” said Orontius. “You are just in time. We are just about to honor his noble majesty, our beloved Ottonius, the First.”

  “I trust you are ready,” said Otto to Iaachus.

  “I prefer the quiet of the palace,” said Iaachus, slipping his right hand inside his robes.

  “With your permission,” said Orontius to Otto, politely, “we will proceed.”

  “Please do so,” said Otto.

  “The honor we have to bestow upon you,” said Orontius, “is an unusual honor.”

  Otto looked up, to the level of the primarius, on which level Orontius had placed himself.

  “Perhaps you are curious as to the nature of the honor,” said Orontius.

  “Perhaps,” said Otto.

  “It is the honor of death!” said Orontius.

  There were gasps in the higher tiers, movements, a flurry of robes.

  Otto rose to his feet, as did Iaachus, beside him.

  “One may refuse honors,” he said.

  “You may not find it easy to avoid this honor,” said Orontius.

  “Surely,” said Clearchus Pyrides, moderator of the senate, “blood is not to be spilled in this chamber!”

  “Silence,” said Orontius.

  “This is the senate!” said Pyrides.

  “Be silent!” said Orontius.

  “You have called me the fountain of mercy,” said Otto. “It is my observation that the merciful are seldom respected, are frequently betrayed, and seldom live long. Yet I am prepared to be merciful. If you disband and withdraw in peace, this shall be as if it had not occurred. I offer this concession in the interests of harmony, a condition which I would have obtain between the senate and the throne.”

  Orontius threw back his head, and laughed. Some of those crowded in the portal and, apparently, several behind them, on the broad marble stairs, laughed, as well.

  “Do you truly think I fear a tardy gaggle of senators, amateurs in war, dilettantes in conspiracy?” asked Otto.

  “We are not senators!” cried a burly fellow at the portal, flinging aside his senatorial robes, and brandishing a knife. “We are patriots, come to rescue the state, to extract it from the clutches of a barbarian usurper.”

  At the same time, those with the speaker cast aside their senatorial robes, as well, drawing and raising daggers.

  “I am Otung,” said Otto, “but I am also a citizen of the empire, given its foolish grant of universal citizenship, as much so as I take you to be.”

  “Death to the usurper!” cried a man, bravely, but he did not rush forward.

  “My offer of amnesty will not be repeated,” said Otto.

  “Do not toy with us,” laughed Orontius. “Your ruse, your pompous bluff, that of a desperate, terrified barbarian, is empty and transparent. It fails. It is propounded in vain.”

  “I would be clear on this,” said Otto. “It is refused?”

  “Do not joke with us,” snarled Orontius.

  “I take it that my offer is refused,” said Otto.

  “It is refused,” said Orontius.

  “As you will,” said Otto.

  “Behold, fellow patriots,” called Orontius to the men crowded in the thres
hold of the senate, and even behind them, down the stairs, “the noble Iaachus, our esteemed Arbiter of Protocol, standing beside the usurper, has drawn a dagger!”

  “He has, so he has!” cried one of the men at the portal. “Yes, yes,” cried others.

  “You are then with us!” cried Orontius, jubilantly. “We welcome you to our brotherhood of liberation. Let your blade strike the first blow! We extend to you that honor.”

  “I have served the empire for years,” said Iaachus. “I will not betray it now. This blade is not formidable, and the arm which wields it is not strong, but it will defend to the death the empire I love.”

  “Strike!” cried Orontius.

  “You are traitors!” said Iaachus.

  “You may yet live,” said Orontius. “We can use your position, support, influence, and cunning.”

  “No,” said Iaachus.

  “Strike, strike!” demanded Orontius.

  “I will not strike my emperor,” said Iaachus.

  “Then,” said Orontius, “you will die with him.”

  “What better place to die,” said Iaachus, “than beside one’s emperor, and one’s friend?”

  “He is a fool, to set himself amongst enemies,” said Orontius.

  “Perhaps,” said Iaachus, “it is one way to discover one’s enemies.”

  “I am not one,” said Titus Gelinus, wrapping his cloak about his left arm and taking his place beside Otto and Iaachus.

  “Welcome,” said Otto.

  “I am where I belong,” said Titus Gelinus.

  “Fools,” said Orontius. He then looked scornfully away from Iaachus and Titus Gelinus, and, complacently and smugly, looked upon Otto, whom he then addressed.

  “Perhaps you wonder,” said Orontius, “how these patriots, more than a hundred of them, passed through the streets and, unquestioned and undetained, ascended the steps to this venerable chamber.”

  “I know how it is that you think they have done so,” said Otto.

  “Many senators are absent,” said Orontius. “It was arranged so. These men then, in the garb of senators, and suitably credentialed, arrive, and are admitted to the senate chamber.”

  “And guards have now been dismissed?” asked Otto.

  “On my authority,” said Orontius.

  “As they are no longer needed?” asked Otto.

  “No, we do not need them,” laughed Orontius, and mirth, as well, rippled amongst his cohorts.

  “Do not shed blood in the senate!” begged Clearchus Pyrides, moderator of the senate.

  “Do not presume to interfere, or you, too, shall die,” said Orontius.

  “It appears,” said Otto, “the resolve of the senate is not unanimous.”

  “Run, flee for your lives!” cried Clearchus Pyrides.

  “Beware that you do not decree your own death,” warned Orontius.

  “Run!” cried Pyrides.

  “And where is there for him to run but to a hundred and more knives?” said Orontius.

  “Filchen!” said Iaachus. “Traitors!”

  “Run!” said Pyrides.

  “I do not choose to do so,” said Otto.

  “We shall rush upon you,” said Orontius, “and you, and those with you, will die of a thousand cuts, and we shall then hurry into the streets, displaying bloody knives, proclaiming the return of liberty.”

  “Shadows grow long,” said Otto. “I request that you publicly name your principal.”

  “I decline to do so,” said Orontius.

  “I am sure he would approve your discretion,” said Otto.

  “What difference would it make now?” said Iaachus.

  “None,” said Orontius, “but an understanding is in place.”

  “Do you truly think,” asked Otto, “that it was through clever deceit that your men, due to suitable robes and credentials, passed through the streets and came to this place?”

  “Of course,” said Orontius.

  “They were permitted to do so,” said Otto.

  More than one of those crowded in the portal looked at one another, uneasily.

  “Nonsense,” said Orontius.

  “And you believe the guards have been dismissed?”

  “Certainly,” said Orontius.

  “I think you will find they have returned,” said Otto.

  Several of the poised assassins stirred, casting glances about, apprehensively.

  “You will recall,” said Otto, “the offer of amnesty was refused.”

  “He is trapped,” said Orontius. “Be not deterred! Can you not see through such discourse, empty, futile words, babblings intended to unsettle you, to sway you from the firmness of your purpose?”

  “Who will be the first to approach his emperor?” asked Otto.

  “We shall attack at once, together, more than a hundred knives,” said Orontius.

  “Swarming, like filchen,” said Iaachus, “tiny creatures, with the coward’s courage, brave only in packs.”

  “There will be no defense,” said Orontius.

  Iaachus raised his knife. Titus Gelinus lifted his left arm, shielded in his wrapped robe.

  Otto did not move. He stood quietly, regarding Orontius.

  “Prepare to die!” screamed Orontius.

  “Speak to your men,” said Otto. “Advise them, rather, to do so.”

  “Attack, attack!” screamed Orontius, pointing to the three who stood by the two curule chairs.

  “At them!” cried Otto, in a great, terrible voice, pointing to the crowded, mustered assassins.

  At his cry, dozens of figures, shouting, uttering the mingled war cries of the Otungen, the Darisi, the Haakons, the Basungs, and the Wolfungs, the five tribes of the Vandalii, the Vandal nation, casting aside the robes of senators, clutching swords and axes, descended the tiers of the chamber.

  “It is a slaughter!” said Iaachus.

  “Amnesty was refused,” said Otto.

  “Desist, desist!” cried Clearchus Pyrides, from behind his table, his senatorial robes spattered with blood.

  One of the would-be assassins, knife lifted, rushed toward Otto, but Otto, easily seizing up the heavy curule chair, with its thick, curved legs of torodont ivory, thrust a leg of the chair into the attacker’s face, breaking through the skull, like a varda egg, inches back, into the attacker’s head.

  The knives of the assassins were poor matches for the swords and axes of their foes. Most of the assassins were cut down from behind, as they turned to run, but they were jammed in the portal of the chamber, and some were trampled, broken underfoot, necks and backs snapped, and others, rushing out, slashing about themselves against their fellows, to clear their way, reached the steps, only to be impaled on the spears of the waiting, returned guards.

  “It was indeed a trap,” said Titus Gelinus, his robe now loose, hanging from his left arm.

  “Yes,” said Otto, “mine, not theirs.”

  “Why did you not tell me?” asked Gelinus.

  “Your agitation, your uneasiness, your fear,” said Otto, “were useful. Such things assure an enemy that his plans are unknown. Had you been at ease or manifested confidence, the enemy might have suspected we had drawn plans against them.”

  “What of Iaachus?” asked Gelinus. “Was he informed?”

  “It seemed to me,” said Iaachus, “that it was necessary, for various reasons, appearance, and such, for the emperor to be on good terms, or thought to be on good terms, with the senate, and an occasion such as this fitted well into such a policy. Now any public suspicion or animosity will be directed toward the senate and not the palace. The senate will now be seen as hostile, if not literally treasonous. The emperor went more than half-way, and was rebuffed. He offered amity, even amnesty, to the senate and the senate rejected it. Today is a victory for the palace.”
r />   “Did you know of the emperor’s provisions?” asked Gelinus.

  “No,” said Iaachus, “but I supposed there would be provisions.”

  “You seemed ready to die at his side,” said Gelinus.

  “I was alarmed,” said Iaachus. “As things were going, seemingly far awry, I thought my confidence in the emperor had been misplaced, and that he, largely untutored in statecraft, had taken the senate’s offer at face value, and, consequently, deplorably, was in mortal jeopardy.”

  “I trust your confidence was restored,” said Otto.

  “Fully,” said Iaachus.

  There were heard two screams, and two of the would-be assassins fell back amongst the tiers, tumbling back several levels. Perhaps they had hoped to climb the stairs to one of the high windows, from which they might have cast themselves down to the street, to be sure, a fall quite likely to be fatal.

  “The senate runs with blood,” wept Clearchus Pyrides, moderator of the senate.

  “No senator has died,” said Otto. “Those present were ushered to the rear, higher on the tiers, and a great many it seems, presumably by design, were not present.”

  “There will be a stink, as of a slaughterhouse,” said Pyrides.

  “It was a slaughterhouse,” said Iaachus.

  “It was not a good laughing with steel,” said Otto, regretfully.

  “This is not the first time blood has been shed in this chamber,” said Iaachus, “and I fear it will not be the last. The blades of ambition have sharp edges.”

  “It will take weeks to cleanse the chamber,” said Pyrides.

  Citherix and Vandar, Otungs, approached, thrusting a bound prisoner before them. They threw the prisoner to his knees before Otto. “This, my king,” said Citherix, “is he whom you wished spared.”

  Orontius looked up, white-faced, from his knees.

  “Unbind him,” said Otto, “lift him up, straighten his robes.”

  Orontius then stood, unsteadily, before Otto.

  “I pardon and free you,” said Otto.

  “I do not understand,” said Orontius.

  “Are my words not clear?” asked Otto.

  “I alone am to be spared?” asked Orontius.

  “Yes,” said Otto.