And now, only a son from me or a unanimous vote from the Senate can keep you from the throne, Laene, Raeth thought, slightly disturbed. What have I gotten myself into?
There was general clapping as Laene and Raeth stood so the people could look upon their new Emperor and Heir. Raeth studied the shorter, balding man beside him.
The only thing between him and the throne is me, Raeth thought. Twins! This isn’t the time for politics. The world is supposed to be in the middle of ending!
Should he worry about assassination? No sitting senator or emperor had been assassinated in over three centuries. Surely Laene wouldn’t stoop so low—or be so obvious. If Raeth died mysteriously, the Senate would likely strip Laene’s Heirship immediately.
The clapping died down, and Raeth moved to sit again, still troubled, but Laene grabbed him on the arm. “And now, Senators and Citizens, we will continue business left uncompleted because of certain…interruptions. Though it is unconventional, we are left without alternatives. As Senator Arasisae said, we need to prepare for the future. The sooner our Emperor produces a true-blooded Heir, the better. And so, the Bride Choosing will continue.”
Laene turned, climbing down from the dais to regain his seat on the second tier. Raeth was left standing awkwardly before the podium as a procession entered from the side of the room. The brides.
Chapter Six
D’Naa still wasn’t certain what to think of her grandparent’s secret. Deep inside, she was a bit embarrassed to realize that no one had thought she had a chance to become empress. However, for the most part she was relieved. Her failure to win Hern’s favor didn’t seem quite so acute when placed in the context of a larger, more clandestine purpose.
It was odd to be being presented again. She still hadn’t gotten over the shock of the previous day’s events. Compared to the deaths and mayhem, even the choosing of a new empress seemed trite. But, she supposed she could see their urgency.
As the Vo-Dari led her and the others into the Senate Hall D’Naa realized she wasn’t nervous anymore. She had a purpose now—it didn’t matter what Hern, or any of the others, thought of her. The brides stopped in a line far enough away from the prince that he wouldn’t be able to speak to them without the rest of the crowd hearing, and so she doubted Hern would have an opportunity to mock her again.
“There he is,” one of the women—the short Kallana—said from behind her.
D’Naa frowned slightly. The Shorriken woman’s voice was different than it had been before. D’Naa glanced to the side, looking down the line of women. Not a few of them were regarding Hern—who stood on a dais at the front of the large room—with dreamy eyes. None of them had seemed so infatuated with him before. What had changed?
He saved us, D’Naa realized. That was what it was. Even despite her dislike of the man, it was hard to ignore the image of him appearing from the darkness, a crystalline sword glowing in his hand. He had saved them when death seemed certain. D’Naa herself found it difficult not to romanticize him after such a rescue, even considering the way he had treated her.
D’Naa turned back toward Hern. The prince regarded the quiet brides with a look she couldn’t quite read. He almost looked embarrassed, though that seemed unlikely considering the stories she’d heard about him. Perhaps it was annoyance, frustration at having to deal with the bride choosing at a time when his nation was under attack.
He met her eyes, and D’Naa gave him a frown, staring back as she remembered his condescension. A mighty warrior he might be, simple martial prowess could not make up for the way he had treated her.
He continued to stare at her, as he opened his mouth to make his decision.
“I cannot choose,” Hern announced, his voice resounding through the domed room.
“My Lord?” One of the Senators, a balding man in a Verdant cloak, asked.
“It is not my place,” Hern said. “This should be my father’s decision.”
“Your father is dead, my lord,” the senator reminded.
“Which means he has joined the Ancestors,” Hern continued. “I cannot make this choice without first consulting him and asking his blessing of wisdom. I will choose a bride after I have petitioned a Ynaa poem, asking my father and the Ancestors to tell me who I should choose.”
The announcement caused a rustling through the crowd, primarily amongst the people on the lowest level. D’Naa turned, looking back at the Senators, who sat behind her on the middle tier. She couldn’t see many of their faces from her angle, but most seemed to be sitting quietly, considering their Emperor’s words. Slowly, she saw a couple of them nod to themselves.
“A…wise choice, your majesty,” the High Senator said, a touch of surprise in his voice. “But, for the good of the Imperium, I believe it would be best if you restricted your Ynaa to a thousand reads. Times are too unstable to risk being without a true Heir for too long.
The Emperor paused, then turned to confer quietly with a robed Shorriken man beside him. Eventually he nodded, then turned back to the Senators. “A thousand, then,” he said. “I will commission the Ynaa prayer today.”
With that, the session seemed to come to an end. People began to file out of the lower level, and the Senators began to speak quietly with one another. D’Naa turned as the brides split apart, some leaving, others walking toward people they knew.
A thousand read Ynaa? She thought with a frown. How long will that take?
#
“A month?” Darro asked, frowning. “I have to wait another month before you choose my wife for me?”
Raeth shrugged. “I would have made it longer, if I’d thought I could get away with it,” he explained as the two left the Senate Hall, the ever-present Tarrinon scurrying along behind them. “Tarrinon warned me not to challenge the Senate so early in my reign.”
“A defeat now would certainly hurt you in the long run, your majesty,” the aid said with a nod of his aging head.
Darro rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to reply. Then, however, he shot an uncomfortable look at the Shorriken man.
“Tarrinon,” Raeth said, “would you please excuse us for a moment.”
The chancellor nodded, backing away and beginning to make notations in his schedule book. Raeth took a look at the crowd, then pulled Darro to the side of the street, onto the green Hall lawn and away from the exiting Senators. The Senate Hall rose behind them, a massive stone dome with inlays and proverbs etched into its sides.
“Raeth,” Darro hissed, “what are you doing? Why the delay?”
“I’m not Emperor,” Raeth replied.
“They just ratified you,” Darro said. “Last I heard, that was pretty final.”
“They ratified Hern,” Raeth said.
“You are Hern now!” Darro snapped, rolling his eyes. “What is the difference?”
Raeth paused, not certain how to put his feelings into words. Behind Darro, a half-dozen Corpate walkers began to stride away as groups of Senators made their way home.
“I’m not going to stay Emperor,” Raeth finally said.
“What?” Darro exclaimed. “Raeth, we’ve already been through this.”
“I mean,” Raeth corrected, “I intend to step down as soon as the trouble to the north is taken care of. I don’t belong here—it isn’t my Place. If I marry one of those women, it’s just going to lead to embarrassment later on.”
“But, Raeth,” Darro said, wringing his large hands before himself nervously, “if you step down, Laene will be Emperor.”
Raeth paused. “I’m…sorry about the decision, Darro,” he said. “There wasn’t anything I could do.”
Darro shrugged. “I don’t want to be Emperor anyway, remember? I’m just worried about Laene. I don’t trust him.”
“He’s Verdant,” Raeth said, watching the last Corpate disappear in the distance. “We’ve never gotten along with his Line.”
“This is more than that, Raeth,” Darro said. “He’s trying to take the Throne!”
“I
know,” Raeth said.
“Raeth… .” Darro said, suddenly looking very uncomfortable.
“What?” Raeth asked.
“You…know that they could execute you if you tell them who you are? I mean, I thought you were going to stay emperor. I didn’t realize you would actually consider. …”
Raeth paused. He’d been thinking the same thing. “I can step down without telling them who I really am,” he said. “Emperors have abdicated before. I’d still live the rest of my life as Hern, but at least I wouldn’t be holding a position I shouldn’t.”
“I suppose,” Darro said, frowning.
“Look, we’ll worry about that when it arises. Right now, we have a more pressing problem.”
Darro looked up, following Raeth’s eyes. Streaks of light still curved into the air from the military district, each of them representing a soldier sent to face a danger they still didn’t understand. Though there had been a semblance of normality in the Senate session, it had been forced. Raeth had been able to sense tension and shock from most who were attending. Many of them probably still hadn’t been able to reconcile the danger they were facing.
“Agreed,” Darro said.
“My Lord Emperor?” a hesitant voice asked from behind them. Raeth looked back at the almost forgotten Tarrinon waiting impatiently beside the road. “You have appointments… .”
“That’s going to get annoying,” Raeth noted.
Darro snorted. “Who was it who lectured me about duty this morning?”
“I think we lectured each other,” Raeth said. “Come on.” He moved forward, walking off the grass and back onto the neatly-cobbled road.
Tarrinon snapped his tome closed, raising his eyebrows and adjusting his floppy Shorriken hat as Raeth approached. “Finished, my lord?”
“I suppose.”
“Good,” the diminutive man said. “Then perhaps we can see to some of your duties. The Senators and aristocrats are eager to meat their new monarch.”
“Perhaps later,” Raeth said. “First I want to check on the War Counsel’s progress.”
“I sent a page to the Counsel chambers, my lord,” Tarrinon said. “He has been instructed to inform us if there are any developments beyond simple troop movements.”
Raeth paused. “I see,” he finally replied.
Darro chuckled. “You’re a crafty little Shenk, aren’t you?”
“I have had much experience arranging Imperial schedules, my lord,” the man said with a slight smile of his bearded face. “Perhaps someday I will discover why High Aedin seem to enjoy avoiding their appointments whenever possible.”
Raeth smiled. “All right, Tarrinon, I’ll give you a couple of hours. After that, however, I get to visit the Counsel room. Agreed.”
“You are the Emperor, my lord,” Tarrinon said. “I simply advise.”
Raeth raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t say anything. He knew that his father could never have functioned without the Shorriken bureaucrat at his side. Of course, that hadn’t stopped Vaetayn from complaining about the little man either.
“Who is first, then?” Raeth asked.
Tarrinon stepped to the side and nodded back toward the Senate Hall, where the shadowed figure stood in the first tier entrance. Realizing he had been acknowledged, the figure stepped forward into the light, revealing a seven-foot tall form, long, muscular arms, and a brown-furred body clothed in a simple gray smock.
“I believe those closest have precedence, my lord,” Tarrinon said.
The Gol stepped forward, bowing its massive head. “Your majesty,” it said in a lightly-accented, rough voice. “I congratulate you.”
Raeth paused. “For what, ambassador?”
“For what you have accomplished,” the Gol replied.
“My ratification? It was nothing that wasn’t expected,” Raeth said slowly, uncertain quite how to respond. He’d never been completely comfortable around the strange creatures, though the Imperium had always maintained peaceful relations with them.
“Expected of some, perhaps,” the Gol said. “But only those who watch.”
Raeth frowned slightly. Were they talking about his ascension to the Throne or not? He couldn’t read the creature’s expressions; its face was too odd. Gol features looked like they had been smashed against a wall. Their noses barely protruded from their faces, and their faces were wide and flat.
“I don’t understand you, ambassador,” Raeth said.
“There are those amongst you who do, your majesty,” the Gol replied, bowing its head. “For there are those amongst you who have. But, you needn’t worry. Or, rather, you will worry, but half of you need not. The other half are in serious danger—your half.”
Raeth shot a confused look at his brother, who only shrugged. “What?” he finally asked.
“I should not take more of your time, your majesty,” the Gol said, bowing and backing away. Raeth watched it go, walking until it joined the crowds of the government sector.
“Do you find those things as weird as I do?” Darro asked.
Raeth just shook his head in frustration. The Gol were good allies—the gems and metals they traded to the Imperium in exchange for Dari paintings was a wonderful source of income. However, Raeth had never met a person who wasn’t at least a little confused by the Gol mannerisms.
“All right, Tarrinon,” Raeth said, shaking his head. “That’s one. What else do you have?”
#
“Congratulations, Senator,” Harridel said, bowing as Laene passed. Laene tipped his head slightly toward the Shorriken aid, favoring the man with a rare smile. It was a special day, a day of success, and Laene was feeling generous.
Other servants and aids bowed as he passed, though none were important enough to offer congratulations. All had heard, however, that their master had done well this day. For the first time since the founding of the Imperium, an Heir had been chosen from a line other than Amberite. Even if it went no further than that, Laene’s name would be recorded in history as one of the most influential High Senators to ever live. And, if something did happen to that fool Hern… .
Briefly, Laene considered assassins. It would be tricky, but he could probably arrange it—especially if he could find a way to get Hern out onto the battlefield. However, he dismissed the idea as too risky. He hadn’t gotten so far by being impatient. Besides, if certain contacts of his were to be believed, the throne would soon be his anyway.
Laene’s Aether wiggled happily on his arm, and he could barely keep himself from humming as he strode through his mansion’s hallways. It was almost time to move again—the pillared stone walkways and dome-shaped rooms were far too familiar. He’d only lived in the mansion for five years, but already the critics were declaring that the pillar and stone look was unfashionable. Perhaps he would move to celebrate his recent success.
But, no, Laene thought to himself, I should wait. After all, there’s no telling if I might have to move somewhere else soon…somewhere with four wings and a nine-story keep.
A virtual fleet of pages and aids crowded around his audience room’s doors—most of them would either be envoys from other prominent Senators or members of the Shorriken or Mahallen aristocracies. Laene’s allies and would-be allies. A new Emperor might have taken the throne this day, but to the political world, Laene’s success was far more striking.
The crowed bowed obsequiously as Laene passed, a pair of Verdant guards opening his doors, then shutting them behind him as he passed. A few moments later, Harridel waddled in through a side door. Laene kept the fat Shorriken partially because of his efficiency, and partially because he was the only man Laene had ever found that was both shorter and fatter than himself.
“How long should I make them wait, my lord?” Harridel asked.
“I’m feeling generous, Harridel,” Lane replied, settling into his well-cushioned, throne-like chair. “Begin showing them in after a half hour.”
“Yes, my lord,” Harridel said, bowing to leave.
>
Laene relaxed back in his chair, enjoying his success. He had spent years undermining Vaetayn’s sons, an action many of his critics had called foolish. Laene and Vaetayn were nearly the same age, they had argued, and the Emperor would likely rule until old age took him. What good did it do to challenge the Emperor’s son’s?
But, Laene had known that Vaetayn was far too strong a leader to challenge directly. At first, Laene’s attempts had simply been a way of undermining Vaetayn by showing the fault in his offspring. After time, Laene had realized his opportunity. It had been a slim one, of course—Vaetayn had been strong and powerful, and people had expected another good twenty years of leadership from him.
Laene’s foresight had repaid him well. Hern might be Emperor, but he was impotent. Even if Laene never took the throne himself, he would be the true power of the Imperium. Whatever it was that had come from the Pool of the Forgotten, Laene blessed its arrival, for in killing Vaetayn it had given Laene an immeasurable gift.
He shivered in his chair, partially from joy and partially from the drafty room. That was another reason to move—he had chosen this castle-like, stone block of a mansion because of trends, but he had soon learned that there was a reason people had abandoned such dwellings centuries ago. They were annoyingly cold in winter. Laene would certainly have to—
The door swung open, causing Laene to sit up with annoyance. Harridel should know better than to let someone in so soon.
The door slammed closed behind an irate Alean. She stalked into the room, eyeing Laene, as if daring her father to say a word about her entrance. Laene wisely remained quiet.
“What does he think he’s doing?” she finally demanded, stopping before Laene’s chair and folding her arms, fuming.
Laene shrugged, smiling with fondness for his daughter. Few men could boast offspring as talented in politics as she. “I haven’t any idea,” he said.
“An entire month!” Alean spat. “He expects me to wait a month? This is my reward?”
Laene shrugged. “There isn’t much I can do, dear,” he said. Hern’s decision to commission a Ynaa before choosing a bride had indeed been a surprise, but a pleasant one. The longer Hern waited before choosing a bride, the more likely Laene was to take the throne.
The Aether of Night Page 12
