Around her, the spirits were moving in agitation as they sensed the hostility of the officer—and how precarious his situation truly was at the moment. “Yes, I trust I will.”
Gown flowing behind her, Lady Nephera strode past Captain Doolb, well knowing that he—and others—watched her back as she made her way to the master planning room. No one had informed Nephera as to where she could find the emperor at this time, but she had not needed to ask. The high priestess knew more about the doings of her husband than anyone; she knew all the activities of the palace.
The guards attending the doors immediately swung them open. Nephera moved silently past, entering just as Quan Es-Calkos, the head of the Merchants’ League, was heard to rumble, “If you could only consider again, your majesty! Some restraint is called for at this point—”
Hotak was leaning over one of his precious maps, Nephera observed, using a carved oak staff with a small, flat front to push a painted warrior from Mithas toward the shores of Ansalon. “Your concern is noted, Master Quan, but my own adjutants report that the present rate of military buildup has been nothing short of a boon to the economic state of the imperium! If that’s so, then a ten percent increase will only further accelerate general growth!”
Anxiously adjusting his blue, silken robe, the narrow-eyed Quan noticed Nephera but continued. He shook his ponytailed head. “ ’Tis true the shipwrights and smiths are working at a capacity they’ve only dreamt of in the past, your majesty, but the increase will overtax resources quicker than they can be replaced. At some point, the entire system will crash or come to a disastrous halt and—”
Tossing the staff on the map, Hotak faced the merchant. “Nonsense! If the Merchants’ League would guide their holdings with the efficiency of the legions, there’d be nothing to fear!”
A muscular, blue-robed figure next to Quan, his right ear decorated with many gold rings, interjected, “My emperor, I spent twelve years in the Imperial Fleet. I appreciate the order and organization of the military as much as you—”
“Then there is no more question! Ten percent up, beginning the first of the month! I expect to hear progress reports and calculations for further increases as the impending invasion warrants!”
The emperor’s audience, consisting of some twenty-odd officials from those clans who controlled and operated the League, looked at one another with veiled expressions of exasperation.
Watching, Nephera smiled slightly. Her husband was a decisive leader, still.
Another one of the merchants, a younger, dark brown female garbed in the white and gray of House Aratiun, noted the high priestess’s presence. The plain-faced female straightened then loudly said, “It shall be as you say, my emperor! All hail Hotak!”
The gathered merchants looked at her then quickly joined in the salute. A few did so with more gusto than the others.
Hotak beamed at this. He signaled to an intense young officer standing to the side. “Captain Gar! Be sure that my guests are fed and gifted before they return to their respective patriarchs! Good citizens of the empire, I wish you well!”
Under the guidance of Captain Gar, the merchants then departed. Several bowed their horns in acknowledgement as they passed Lady Nephera. A few, including the female who had spoken at the end, touched their breasts—the sign of the faithful.
“From the moment you entered, I smelled the scent of lavender,” Hotak murmured, his right eye focusing on his mate. “You make it difficult to concentrate on the business at hand.”
“You seem to have a strong grasp on everything from what I have observed, my husband.”
Hotak proudly indicated his figurine relief map. “The imperium as it as never been, my love! New colonies, new mines, expansion onto the mainland and across the ocean … the dream of every ruler since Ambeoutin! The promise of a god fulfilled.”
She drifted over to his side and glanced at the map. “A god who could not fulfill his own promises. The minotaur race is the better without him. You are better off with the unusual powers I have arrayed behind you.” As he watched in awe, Nephera made a tiny gesture, and the gold ship and those near it shifted to the east, sliding toward an area with no known land. “Bastion,” she said pointedly. “This is where my son is, this very day.”
Leaning close, Hotak eagerly studied the new alignment of the ships as if he might actually spot his son aboard the golden figurine. “He would not sail out there unless he had critical knowledge.”
“A rebel ship also sailed in that direction, two days before.” She made another slight gesture, and one of the smaller, black pieces slid toward the empty region of the Courrain. “And then it vanished from my sight, near where Bastion is now.”
“Is that possible? Then Bastion must have discovered the location of their main base and given pursuit.” Hotak slapped his fist into his palm. “The end of Rahm and the rebellion!”
“I did not say that. Rahm has escaped before.”
The emperor shook his head, gazing proudly at the figure of the golden ship on the map. “Bastion won’t fail me.”
Nephera turned her penetrating gaze to the map area marked Ansalon. She idly tapped her finger, and a yellow figure carved to resemble a conniving elven archer hiding behind a tree suddenly shifted away from the edge of the table. Hotak had left it there until he was able to pinpoint the most likely location for Silvanesti’s main organized resistance. The figure rolled over to reposition itself just southeast of the legendary shield.
“Some of the kirath,” the high priestess said. “As organized as they can be. They’re watching now, watching both the buildup of the legions and what goes on around their own domain.”
“And what is going on in their domain, my love? Will the shield fall? This Galdar says so; he says that slip of a human named Mina has spoken to her god and promised it will be so—”
“This Mina. I do not underestimate her. She is the focus of some mighty power. You should understand that.”
He nodded, but said, “I also understand that strength of arms’ll be the factor that decides the fate of Ansalon.”
In response, Nephera waved her hand and all the warrior figures assembled near Silvanesti moved forward. They briefly covered the area of the elven kingdom, then moved farther west.
Then, as Hotak eagerly watched, in place of the word SILVANESTI, the name AMBEON appeared. In smaller letters, the capital of Silvanesti, Silvanost, was replaced by Hotakanti.
“Hotak’s Glory,” murmured the emperor delightedly. “But how did you know I was trying to pick a new name for the capital.”
“What other would suffice?”
“But all this only comes to pass if the shield falls.”
“I believe it will.” Lady Nephera stepped back from the map. “And you, my husband, will hear from me, the moment it does.”
Moving with a sudden youthful swiftness, Hotak stopped Nephera with a hand on her arm, before she reached the door. “Wait! Nephera … my love. You make me so happy with your visit. Please come with me now. I want to show you … something.”
“Where? What?” Her expression remained unreadable.
“Where we are once and forever one.”
He took her hand and led her from the planning room, guiding her along the gilded corridors and past bowing guards in their shining, warhorse breastplates. They ascended the grand, double staircase that wound up to the private floors of the emperor. Hotak’s sandals clattered on the white, marble steps while Nephera, though she wore footwear, made scarcely a sound.
They passed through another hall decorated with silver-framed paintings celebrating Hotak’s career—the latest commission was a re-creation of the emperor executing his predecessor. At the end of the hall, two guards stood watch over bronze doors upon which the throne and the Great Circus were etched. Intricate scrollwork mimicking the waves of the Courrain Ocean lined each door.
The sentries immediately opened the heavy doors then bowed their horns low as the pair entered. As soon as the emperor and his consort
were inside, the doors swung shut behind them.
Round-bottomed, brass oil lamps illuminated the grand personal chambers that once belonged to Chot the Terrible. The walls had been repainted white several times to cover the bloodstains from the night of Chot’s downfall. The blue sheets of the vast, silken bed had been turned down, and the scent of lavender filled the room. Above the matching pair of cylindrical, down-filled rolls used for pillows, the headboard displayed the image of a proud, brooding minotaur with a blunt nose who gazed at a fiery mountain—Droka, founder of the clan and Hotak’s hero.
A golden flask of briarberry wine and two matching goblets sat on a tray atop a small, round marble table near the bed.
Hotak stepped away from Nephera as she moved to the center of the room, seemingly touched by the care he had taken with the scene.
“I’d hoped you’d come. I had everything planned for us.”
Hotak dropped his armor and weapon by the nearest wall. He wore only his kilt now. Despite the gray in his mane and fur, he moved like a frisky minotaur in the throes of young love.
He looked her over admiringly. “I wanted to say so before, in front of the others, what an arresting garment you are wearing, my dear.”
“Thank you.” The black gown did fit Nephera’s form well, she admitted to herself, accenting her upper torso. Her mane had been bound and artfully placed over her right shoulder. She wore little other adornment, save a silver link necklace.
“You came unaccompanied,” he added, unaware that she had not—as always, unaware that everywhere she went, the undead trailed along. They were here even now, gawking and gaping. Nephera smiled inwardly. Her husband was a great leader who prided himself on his knowledge of everything going on in his kingdom, but he didn’t know everything; he did not need to know everything.
“I assumed that you did not want temple guardians walking your palace.”
“Our palace,” the emperor corrected, looking slightly displeased that she had spoken in this fashion. “You are my bride, my children’s mother, my consort. It is our palace.”
“Do not forget that I am also high priestess of the dominant faith.” She glided to the opposite side of the bed, gazing toward the balcony. In the distance, Nephera could just make out the top of the temple’s roof. She already yearned to be back there, back in the place honoring the wondrous presence she served.
“But the one must take precedence over the other.” As he spoke, Hotak came around the bed. He poured wine for both of them then handed a goblet to her. When she did not take it, the emperor slowly put her drink back on the tray. Gulping down his own wine in a single swallow, Hotak said gently, “I want to bring this family back together. We must always be seen as one.”
One of her hands toyed with her hair. “Bring us back together? And that would include, I suppose, Ardnor?”
“Of course! He’s my firstborn, after all! He should be an integral part of palace affairs, given a command of honor and prestige. I want the hurtful past forgotten. When the people see him, I want them to see the son of the emperor and consort!”
Nephera moved closer to the bed, touching the curved wooden rail. Her other hand slipped from her hair to the waiting goblet. “And what kind of life awaits my beloved son, here in the palace?”
“Depending on his potential, he may become a legion general. Yes, I can see that. He can be a powerful commander of my army.”
She pulled her hand back, her dark eyes narrowing. “A general? Only a general?”
“I remind you that I was a general,” Hotak remarked with a slight snort. “Most minotaurs would envy such a rank.”
“But not, perhaps, when the mantle of emperor remains forbidden.” With that rebuke, she started toward the doors.
The emperor again seized her by the arm, turning her toward him. In truth, he felt, she did not resist him. “I want you and Ardnor back in the palace, my dear. I especially want you back. You think I’ve forgotten all you’ve done for me, but that’s not so! Indeed, I want you with me so we can shape this realm together!”
“We do shape it together. You from the throne, I from the temple.”
He touched the underside of her muzzle. “The temple must be honored, yes, and as you’ve proven again this evening, the god you serve is mighty. But it remains unseemly that the imperial consort should spend so much of her time there and not with the emperor. Nephera … turn the reins over to another if you must, but return to the palace and fulfill the role we’d always intended.”
To his astonishment, she laughed harshly in his face. Her eyes took on the same intensity that he had witnessed in the temple. “You have no idea what you ask of me! It would be as if I insisted you give up the throne to become one of my priests!”
Hotak stepped away, clearly taken aback by the comparison. “Temples have come and gone, Nephera, but the throne is eternal.”
“As eternal as the dead?” The high priestess extended her hands as if taking in the entire chamber. She looked about, meeting the gazes of others the emperor could not see. “My love, the power I wield—the power I have wielded for you even this night—goes beyond such petty things as armies and empires! I have been touched by the one godly force that has not forsaken Krynn! It encompasses Ansalon, the Blood Sea, the Courrain … all there is in the world and beyond!”
“I certainly appreciate all you’ve been able to do because of your god—including the information you have brought me tonight, Nephera—but when I see you here, now … I am overcome by your beauty! And if I do not express myself well, if I offend your god and religion by mistake, it is only because I am hypnotized by your presence—by a presence I have sorely missed for too long.”
Nephera’s expression truly softened. She extended her hand to her husband, who took it. “The power has been granted to give us anything.” Her expression grew avid. “We lost one so, whom I know you mourn above all. He has gone the way of flesh, but he is not beyond our reach! With one thought, I can bring him here.”
The oil lamps flickered, then dimmed. The shadows seemed to rustle of their own accord. Whispers arose from all around. The emperor’s fur stiffened. Now his mate was acting strangely again. This was not what he wanted.
Some breeze Hotak could not feel swirled around his mate, animating her gown, her hair. The whispers grew incessant. Something moved just at the edge of Hotak’s vision. The smell of the sea briefly touched his nostrils. His fingers unconsciously tightened on the goblet, crushing it in with a slight groan of metal.
The light from the lamps had all but died, yet a ghostly illumination whirled around Nephera.
The whispers grew louder but remained unintelligible. In the near dark, other murky forms appeared behind Nephera. Hotak was given the power to see them. Most were indistinct shadows, but a few gained definition … one seemed very familiar to the emperor.
With a roar, he threw his ruined goblet to the floor.
The clatter startled the high priestess. The figures behind her—including the familiar one who troubled Hotak—vanished in an instant. The aura around the emperor’s consort disappeared.
As the oil lamps flared to life, Hotak stepped closer to Nephera, his voice rising. “Once before you revealed to me those—those things—that swarm about you. Once before you showed me your dead … and I told you, I ordered you, to never reveal them again!”
“I can bring you your—”
“I will not demean myself so!” he roared. “Kolot is dead, and he must remain dead! Show me no hungering specter, my dear wife! That is not the son I lost, not the son I grieve!”
Her face twisted into a look of dark outrage so unnatural that Hotak stepped back in astonishment. Before Nephera could say anything, the doors flew open and the two guards barged inside.
“My lord! My lady! We heard shouting—”
“It’s nothing,” Hotak answered gruffly. His gaze met that of his mate. “Nothing at all.”
Her black orbs did not blink. “Yes, nothing. Absolutely noth
ing.” Lady Nephera suddenly bowed her head to Hotak. “Forgive me, I must return to the temple. I will, of course, continue to keep you informed as to the invasion and Bastion’s whereabouts.”
She swept past the soldiers. Hotak’s hand almost rose in a gesture intended to order her stopped, but the emperor quickly let it drop.
The senior of the two guards knelt before him, his horns low and to the side. “My lord, forgive us if we intruded—”
“There is nothing to forgive, captain,” the emperor said curtly, watching his mate glide down the outer hall. When she had vanished from sight, he turned and commanded, “Leave me be.”
The guards shut the doors again. Hotak immediately headed to the wine. Taking Nephera’s untouched drink, he swallowed it then poured himself another glass, staring at the shadows.
“I want you with me, my love,” he whispered to them. “I must have you with me. I will.…”
He had them. He finally had the rebels.
Bastion groaned with impatience. He pounded his fist over and over on the rail, urging the fleet faster and faster. After days of pursuit, he had at last trapped the elusive enemy.
They had seen no sign of Petarka, but surely the island existed, somewhere amid the vast fog from which the rebel ships had emerged. That could be investigated later, though. What mattered now was to put an end to the rebellion, once and for all.
“We’re sure to have a fine catch today!” Captain Magraf, his gold rings jingling, roared. “There’s no way they can outrun the Donag’s Shield and her fine sisters in these choppy waters!”
The low-cut imperial warship skipped smoothly along the rough waves of the Courrain almost as though flying. Sleekly designed to catch the wind, the Donag’s Shield was a proud example of the new types of ships the emperor had requisitioned as part of the military buildup. Its long, tapering bow cut through the water.
The shrouded heavens rumbled, but no one aboard the Shield paid attention. No storm would dare keep them from their prey.
“Catapult ready!” cried the captain. They were still far out of range, but the imperial ships were fast narrowing the gap, and it would not be all that long before the close battle commenced.
Tides of Blood Page 12
