The Tiger’s Imperium

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  Ruga did have a point, Stiger decided. It spoke to the quality of the emperor’s guard, or perhaps lack of it. Then again, the city had undergone a horrific siege, where it would have been difficult to maintain standards. Perhaps he was judging them too harshly. But then again, the praetorians were known for being pompous, spoiled toy soldiers who excelled at pushing the civilians around in the capital. Amongst the regular legions, it was believed they lacked a true ability to stand in line against a determined foe.

  “We will find you something better soon enough.” Aetius stepped fully into the room. His gaze was focused wholly on Stiger. It was deep, penetrating. “I have men looking over the city for something more suitable.”

  “There’s no need for that,” Stiger said. “Once the army comes up, I will move out of here and back into a tent. With any luck, the vanguard will arrive tomorrow morning.”

  “A tent, Imperator?” Aetius seemed surprised. “Surely we can do better for you.”

  “A tent will do.” Stiger said this more harshly than he intended, as he felt a sudden stab of anguish, so strong it was almost physical, as if he’d been cut in battle. His last tent had burned the night before the big battle. He and Taha’Leeth had been attacked … ambushed by elves, her own people. His love … his wife … had been badly injured and brought to the doorstep of death. He could still feel her warm blood on his hands, see her pale face and well remembered the helpless feeling he had felt and the murderous rage that had followed. Even now, she was fighting for her life.

  When he had left for the city, this trip to Lorium to meet with his emperor, she had yet to regain consciousness. To say he was worried for Taha’Leeth and the child she carried … his child, was an understatement. Stiger bitterly resented every moment he spent in Lorium and not by her side. He had a feeling duty would soon draw him farther away.

  “Your father was very interested in your career,” Aetius said, pulling Stiger back to the present. “Regularly, he wrote both the general and myself for updates.”

  Stiger looked up at that, noting the change in subject … the focus on his father. Marcus Stiger was reportedly in command of the legions guarding the capital. At least Menos had told him so, and Stiger had no reason to doubt the noctalum. He might occasionally mislead, but he never lied.

  That his father had been placed in command of the defense of the capital was another incredible occurrence and told him just how desperate the senate had become. It was also a complication. Stiger had no idea how his father would respond to what had happened here in Lorium, nor his brother Max, the favored son. Then what Aetius had said hit him.

  Aetius studied his reaction to the news. “You didn’t know, did you?” His question was more of a statement.

  “No.” Stiger shook his head. He knew he should not be shocked that his father had inquired. Marcus Stiger would have expected his son to bring the family honor and prestige through service. It was only natural that he would write, and yet Stiger found it surprised him all the same. “I did not.”

  Aetius ran a finger against his chin as he moved over to one of the small, almost tiny windows that lined the left wall. The shutters that had once been in place had been removed, torn from their hinges, likely for firewood once the siege got going in earnest.

  The colonel glanced out at the crowd. They were alternating between singing and chanting of some kind that Stiger could not quite hear clearly.

  “We did not part on the best of terms,” Stiger admitted.

  “I know.” Aetius turned around. “Yet, I believe he is proud of the man you grew into. And now that you are emperor … I am sure his pride in your achievements will know no bounds.”

  Stiger found that difficult to believe. “I will be upstaging the old man. I can only imagine what he’ll think of that and how he will react.”

  “Upstaging …” Aetius scowled. “I seriously doubt he will see it that way. You are emperor now, and not the first in your family either. That is, if I recall my history correctly.”

  “Emperor,” Stiger said quietly, testing the word out as he looked down at the dirty wood-planked floor under his boots. He turned his gaze up to meet Aetius’s. “He will have to swear loyalty to his son. Can you guarantee he will do that?”

  “Guarantee?” Aetius said. “With your father, I can guarantee nothing. He answered directly to Tioclesion and the senate. One thing I know is that you are his son. A man takes pride in his children. Marcus Stiger is no exception.”

  Stiger was still not convinced. His father was a complicated man, and their relationship had been strained, frosty even, for years. It had been that way ever since the civil war that had seen the death of Stiger’s mother and sister. In over a decade, they had only exchanged a letter or two at most, and nothing other than family business was discussed.

  “We both know my family has enemies in the capital,” Stiger said, after a moment’s thought. It was time to push Aetius a bit. “The only reason they tapped my father to command is because he is the best general the senate has and Treim was trapped here in Lorium. They are desperate men. They may have tolerated him, but there are many who will not accept a Stiger in the curule chair. The emperor can declare me his heir, but the senate can easily enough give the honor to someone else. You know that, just as I know that.”

  Aetius suddenly looked uncomfortable. He held his hands out to either side. “I’m just a lowly staff officer.”

  “There is something else we both know.” Stiger placed both palms above his knees and leaned forward, the stool creaking. “You are no such thing. Don’t even bother trying to deny it.”

  Aetius did not reply. The man’s eyes, however, remained fixed upon Stiger. He was clearly wondering how much Stiger knew, which was much.

  “You are from a good house and well-connected.” Stiger came to his feet and walked slowly to the window himself. It was so small it could hardly be called a window at all. A five-year-old child would have difficulty wiggling through.

  The singing outside had intensified. The interior of the room was darkened. Only a couple of hanging lamps had been lit. With the brightness of the day, he doubted anyone could see him as he gazed outward.

  The crowd had grown. There were now several thousand people gathered in the street. They were singing one of the High Father’s holy hymns, “The Blessing of Deliverance.” Stiger could see several priests leading them. Everyone seemed to be in a sort of religious fervor.

  After a few more heartbeats of watching, he turned back to Aetius and locked gazes with the colonel.

  “You served two masters, General Treim and the emperor. There is no point in denying it. I know who you really are … especially after the affair in Thresh. I never said anything to you about knowing. There was no need.”

  “And what do you think I am?”

  Stiger refused to be drawn into a game. “After what happened all those years ago, on that gods-forsaken island, Desindra figured she owed me.”

  “She told you the truth.” One of the colonel’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Didn’t she?”

  Stiger gave a nod.

  “I should have expected it,” Aetius said. “You and she have a unique relationship.”

  “I did save her life.”

  “And she saved yours,” Aetius said, “Eli too.”

  “I almost did not come back from that mission you and Treim sent me on,” Stiger said. “It got a little desperate.”

  Aetius’s expression suddenly became irritated. “That little princess has a big mouth. She causes me no end of trouble.”

  “You probably should not have married her, then,” Stiger said.

  “The problem with me is I love playing with fire. And besides, when you showed up with her, she literally threw herself at my feet. How could I have said no?”

  “I don’t think Desindra ever threw herself at anyone’s feet,” Stiger said, amused by such a thought. “She’s too strong-willed for that.”

  “Too true.”

  “You
served the previous emperor in the same capacity that you did Tioclesion,” Stiger said as a statement, returning to the matter at hand.

  “We all serve the emperor,” Aetius replied carefully.

  “I very much doubt that we all serve in the manner you do.”

  Aetius did not reply. Out of the corner of his eye, Stiger saw Ruga quietly watching the two of them verbally spar. The centurion was nothing if not smart. It was one of the reasons Stiger kept him around. It was a risk having Ruga present for this conversation, but the centurion needed to know that Aetius was no simple senior officer. There was more to the man than met the eye.

  “In my presence, I expect you to speak plainly,” Stiger said as he moved back to the stool and sat down. “I will never begrudge anyone honesty.”

  “As you command, Imperator,” Aetius said.

  “Now,” Stiger said, “give me your thoughts on how my ascension to the throne will be received … bluntly, if you will.”

  “Since you insist.” Aetius placed both hands before him, interlocking his fingers. “It will be a blow to learn the emperor has died. People will be generally saddened, for he was quite popular, if an ineffectual leader. As you are no doubt aware, perceptions don’t always match reality.” Aetius paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. His gaze flicked to Ruga and then back to Stiger. “At the same time, your victory over the confederacy and your ascension to the throne will quickly overshadow the emperor’s death. There will be great celebration amongst the masses. The mob will almost certainly view you as their savior and blessed of the gods.”

  Aetius fell silent for a moment. Stiger waited, for he knew the man had more to say.

  “The Stiger name, despite its recent tarnishing, runs deep and strong amongst the populace. Your family is known for the fine officers it produces for the empire, loyalty, dedication, sacrifice, and service.” Aetius paused a moment, almost dramatically. “There have been few successes of late. None, actually, until you came along. The news has been grim. You will be the hero of the year, perhaps even the decade.”

  “But?” Stiger asked, for there surely was a “but.”

  “There will be strong resistance to your ascension by some in the nobility. That will run deeply to the senate itself. If not handled properly, the empire could see itself involved in yet another destructive civil war.”

  “With the confederacy moving up the coast and at the empire’s throat?” Stiger felt his frustration increase. He slapped a palm down on his thigh. “A civil war would be madness. Surely the fools in the senate can see that. A blind man could spot it a mile away.”

  “Not for those who crave power,” Aetius said. “And we both know there are such men in the senate. No matter how desperate they actually are, they will see such a struggle against our enemy differently. Remember, Mal’Zeel has never fallen. The walls of the city are strong and no enemy has ever in our history breached them. That’s what they know … that and their own lust for imperium. When such things are certain, why entrust power to a whelp of a Stiger?”

  “They’ve clearly not seen dragons at work,” Stiger said.

  “No,” Aetius said, “they have not. Even after the detailed reports dispatched to the senate of the destruction of Tioclesion’s army, there will still be some who believe dragons do not exist. They will say that they were just an excuse for failure on the battlefield, incompetence in command, made up for convenience sake. Worse, some will listen and allow themselves to be swayed.”

  “Fools.” Stiger shook his head in disgust. He slapped his thigh again. “A bloody civil war. I tell you, there is no time for that.”

  “Then we will need to work doubly hard to keep it from happening,” Aetius said. “Won’t we?”

  “I’m sure you will find a way to charm them, sir,” Ruga said, speaking up. “Make them see reason, even if it’s at the point of a spear.”

  Aetius shot the centurion an unhappy look that said he should know his place.

  Stiger turned his attention to Ruga, who abruptly looked the soul of innocence. It was time to send the centurion on his way. He had learned what Stiger had wanted him to know about Aetius.

  “Shouldn’t you be checking the guard,” Stiger asked, “or making sure the building is secure … something like that?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ruga said, taking the hint. The centurion drew himself up to attention, saluted, and made his way to the door, stepping out into the corridor. His footsteps could be heard thunking on the wood planking as he moved down the hall toward the front door.

  “He’s impudent,” Aetius said, “and disrespectful.”

  “Ruga’s a fine officer.” Stiger shifted on his stool to get more comfortable. “He’s loyal, relatively honest, and a good combat leader. His men are some of the best I’ve ever seen. And more important, I’ve been through a great deal with them.”

  “That’s high praise coming from you.” Aetius glanced to the doorway as he expelled a breath. “He is also quite correct in his assessment of what will need to be done.”

  “It’s why he’s commanding my personal guard.” Stiger rubbed his jaw as he considered Aetius. “He’s smart and I trust him with my life.”

  “I see,” Aetius said. “So, I should trust him with mine as well?”

  “We both know you trust almost no one,” Stiger said. “But in answer to your question … yes.”

  Aetius inclined his head slightly.

  “What would you have me do,” Stiger asked, “with the nobility and the senate? I would hear your thoughts on the subject.”

  “About the curule chair?” Aetius asked.

  “Yes,” Stiger said, “for I do not think it will be given up easily.”

  “No, it will not be given up easily. First let me say, you have my support and General Treim’s.”

  “Which means,” Stiger said, “as the elders for your houses, I have your families’ support as well.”

  “That is correct,” Aetius said. “Our allies and our clients will fall in line and back your claim. But, there are those in the senate who will oppose you, likely a good number.”

  “No doubt,” Stiger said. “Most of my family’s supporters were purged after the civil war.”

  “True. You will want to speak to Treim to seek his advice too. However, I would send news to the capital as soon as you can … immediately if possible. Let the senate and the masses know that you are emperor. The mob has more power than the average senator would like to admit. As I said, the news has not been the best of late. Hearing of your victory over the enemy should reinforce your support and claim on the curule chair, especially amongst the people. It will make the job of usurping your claim more difficult for those who oppose you. In a manner of speaking, you will be going on the offensive before they even know an attack has been launched. It also helps that you are descended from Karus. We should play that up too.”

  Stiger looked up at the ceiling for a moment as he thought, then returned his gaze to the colonel. “I am thinking it would be better were I there than here. That way, it will be hard for the senate to ignore me. My presence would force them to take some action, sides even. It will get friend and foe squarely out in the open.”

  “Not all of them,” Aetius said. “Some will still remain in the shadows and work against you, but for the most part, what you say is true. The direct and immediate threats will reveal themselves.” Aetius paused. “If you send word tonight, it will reach the capital within two and a half to three days.”

  “How?” Stiger asked. Though he knew the dragons could get there quicker, he suspected Aetius had another means, even though the capital was hundreds of miles away. “Three days … how is that possible?”

  “You have not been gone from the empire for that long,” Aetius said.

  “Longer than you might think,” Stiger said, recalling the five years he had spent in the past. Aetius did not know that yet. He would be told soon enough.

  “The courier stations,” Aetius explained. “T
he enemy marched east to the coast, not west or north. They never fully cut communication with the capital. We were only isolated when the city was besieged. Once the enemy marched off, communication with the capital was restored.”

  “I’d forgotten about them.” Stiger rubbed his jaw as he considered Aetius. “I never really gave the stations much thought as we rode south. Our messengers will be able to change horses at each station. Two and a half to three days you say? That’s all?”

  “Correct.”

  “I’d hate to make that ride,” Stiger said. “So, the senate already knows of our victory?”

  “No,” Aetius said. “They do not. General Treim and the emperor only informed them that the siege had been lifted and the enemy marched off. Nothing more was sent. No mention of you was included in the dispatch and we made sure our messenger will say nothing. He is a reliable man and has been in my service for years. There has not yet been time for a reply from the senate.”

  “But why did he … say … nothing …?” Stiger trailed off. He snapped his fingers. “That sneaky bastard. All along, the general knew the emperor’s plans to elevate me to his own bloody chair.”

  “He did,” Aetius admitted. “I hope you will forgive our lack of candor when we took you to see him. In the emperor’s eyes, it was necessary, and we were duty bound to carry out his orders. Besides, after the letter you sent us and your victory over the confederacy’s army … well … we both agreed with Tioclesion. It also helps that you are the High Father’s Champion. That sort of swayed Father Restus, and he is a difficult man to ignore.”

  “No doubt.” Stiger tapped his thigh lightly with his fingers as he regarded the colonel for a prolonged moment. Their actions meant Treim did not want the chair for himself and was content to let Stiger have it. He was not so blind that he did not see what was obvious. Treim and Aetius would expect influence and other favors in return for their support. They would be power brokers in their own right, standing out in the open and right behind the curule chair. “Continue.”

  “Just as they carried you here, I imagine, if need be, your dragons can get you to the capital as well,” Aetius said. “Probably much quicker than the couriers can travel by horseback.”