Official Reckoning

by Mark Albany

  We heard an uproar as we reached the square in front of the Emperor’s Palace. At first, I thought it was some sort of riot, but as we got closer it became clear that it was actually just a bunch of people in the same place, all talking at once. None of the usual signs of rioting, or none that I saw, anyway. There were stalls where vendors sold a variety of different foods, with many of them making a killing, it seemed. Others rushed to set up their stalls to get some of the business.

  I remembered some of them with a hint of distaste, the men and women who profited from the panic that struck the city with Cyron’s first attack by selling useless relics that were supposed to keep people safe. You could always count on greed to survive above all things, I mused. There didn’t seem to be much fear profiteering in this instance, though, so I kept my feelings to myself rather than share them over the bond. Aliana took my hand and gently squeezed it, having caught just a glimpse of my annoyance. I turned and smiled at her.

  The hundreds of people were so tightly crammed together that in order to get to the palace, we needed to push through them. As we passed, a handful of Lancers, apparently aware of the fact that the Official was waiting for us, cleared a path for us to move through the crowd.

  And, just as it had before, trouble erupted, escalating almost beyond the point of no return before any of us saw or could stop it.

  One of the men opening a path for us encountered one of the elves. One of the warriors. I recognized the tattoos on his face, even though he was out of armor. He resisted the forceful shove and stood his ground, apparently the end of his rope with these newcomers. The Lancer reacted by swinging a punch at his face.

  The elf ducked to avoid the strike and pushed back, which caused the rest of the dozen or so Lancers to draw their weapons and converge on the elf like they had been waiting for something to lash out at. Just like the three we’d run into before.

  “There’s too much tension for a city that’s supposed to be at peace,” I said under my breath and reached for my weapon. We needed to step in and make sure that violence didn’t break out. With this many people in such a confined space, there was bound to be a stampede, and if not that, a massacre. While there wasn’t a hint of violence in the crowd, I’d read about how so many people together reacted in odd ways to the wrong kinds of stimulation.

  Aliana, Noral, and Braire were ready to step in as well. I wasn’t sure if I could keep them out of the fight, either. These were their people, so recently returned to them, and while they were the three smartest people I knew, I couldn’t deny them some irrational need to support their own. Even if it was problematic, I understood it.

  I flooded a bit of my power into the sword before I drew it. I kept my left hand and its runes free in case I was in a place where I needed to be able to put as much magic into the air around me as possible.

  But, even more surprising, I found that it wouldn’t be necessary. I wouldn’t need to stop the Lancers, nor the crowd around me, or even the three sisters.

  I opened my mouth as a young woman stepped in front of the elf who had been pushed to the ground. She stood between the elf and the Lancers who seemed anxious to attack him. They stopped as she stood there, her hands in tightly-clenched fists. From her dress and relative cleanliness, she looked like a merchant.

  And she was standing her ground in front of a dozen men dressed in armor with weapons at the ready.

  “They stood with us!” she shouted at them as she offered the elf a hand to help him up. “They fought the evil back with us, saved all our lives.”

  “Aye!” a man dressed like a blacksmith roared, his thick arms and bushy black beard a good deal more intimidating than the young woman. Together, though, they seemed to pull a reaction from the rest of the crowd.

  “They were here, fighting with us!” someone else shouted. “While they dying with us, where the fuck were you lot? Hiding out and hoping everything would pass you by? The least you cowards can do is show a little respect, eh?”

  The rest of the crowd joined in with varying shows of support. Some praised the elves, others shouted threats at the Lancers, who looked around, likely thinking about how poor their chances were if the crowd decided to turn on them.

  I walked over to the apparent leader and placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned, gripping the sword at his hip, thinking that I was attacking him.

  “Oi, relax,” I said. I kept my voice calm while I tried to project it over the roaring crowd around us. “I think we need to move out. Take this as a lesson. The problems between humans and elves are a thing of the past, now. The only way forward is together, right? Now, we need to keep moving and get to the Palace. Think you can help us with that?”

  The man looked at me oddly. I assumed he had second thoughts about listening to me, but he came to the realization that it was either me and the three elves, or a crowd of angry people.

  “Yes, sir,” the Lancer captain finally said, and saluted by pressing his fist to his breastplate. “Move out, the lot of you!” He directed that order to the rest of the men, who quickly formed up, just as eager to get away from the crowd as the captain was. We moved away from the people, who cheered at their retreat.

  “Well handled, once again,” Aliana said. “I think you have a knack for this.”

  “I should add it to my growing list of skills,” I replied with a chuckle as we drew closer to the gates of the palace. “Being able to keep people on the same side from killing each other. There has to be a use for that, right?”

  “Well, you’ve just shown its usefulness,” Braire noted. “Twice.”

  “Yes, well,” I said, and tried not to let them know how pleased I was about their compliments. “I think we need to have a chat with the Official, maybe see if he’ll tell his men to stop antagonizing the war heroes.”

  “That sounds like a plan, yes,” Noral said with a grin, and stepped onto the palace grounds as the gates closed behind us.

  6

  Our initial intention was to head straight to the Emperor’s courtroom, where the Official waited for us, and yet, when the Palace steward looked at the four of us, I knew what he thought. I didn’t want to bother with it. Looking clean and presentable was rather low on the list of priorities at the moment, and yet the tall, lean, delicate man decided that we weren’t going to stand in front of the Official until we had been properly bathed and readied for someone as important as the hand and will of the Emperor.

  Almost an hour was spent bathing and the finding the right clothes to be presented fit and in form for the Official. Once again we found ourselves in front of the steward, who looked like he’d been shouted at a bit. Unlike most people in the palace, the steward wasn’t the kind of person who got shouted at and didn’t shout back. I assumed that the man would give the Emperor himself a proper reaming if he had the mind to.

  The thought made me smile as we were guided through the various hallways and waiting rooms in the Palace before we were led into the Emperor’s throne room.

  Despite the time that we had lived in this magnificent building, I had never actually set foot in the throne room before. Considering the lack of someone to sit on the throne in question, I had assumed there was no need. The Emperor had been in meditation in the Southern Isles for most of, if not all my life, and until now, there had been no real reason for him to leave it.

  I grew a bit anxious. Noral felt it, too. She was still dressed in the long, flowing robes that she always wore, her hair done up to proudly display her elven features. Even Braire was dressed in something presentable over her usual rough-looking armor. Aliana was the one who remained the same. I doubted anyone could make her dress in anything that she didn’t care to. When I remembered how hot her skin was to the touch, I imagined that too much clothing would be uncomfortable and restricting for her. ‘Revealing’ was the way she dressed, with no attempt to hide her horns or wings as we made our way into the throne room.

  It was a massive place, large enough to fit most of the buildings I’
d seen. Vis’ mansion in its entirety would fit inside here with room to spare. I had read a while back that the original palace architects intended to hold military parades in here in honor of the first Emperor’s coronation after the war, and as such, the place had to be large enough to fit an army. Everything looked like it was gilded in silver or gold, and with the massive painted windows to the right and left of the hall, the place was fully illuminated by the light of day.

  If there was any need to use the room by night, there were long trenches with pitch inside them meant to be lit and constantly fed to provide a long-lasting source of light. From the lack of scorch marks on the sides of the trenches, however, it appeared that they hadn’t been used in quite some time. Decades, I presumed.

  As we reached the end of the room, the throne itself came into view. It was elevated by about a man’s height. The steps that led up to it were pure black marble. The seat was made from the same type of stone, but there were gold veins cutting through the black which gave it an imposing appearance. There were many red velvet pillows atop it, intended for the Emperor’s comfort when he was seated. The top of the backrest was a large lion’s head made of pure gold. A thick mane spread out and down behind the throne, with the teeth carved out of ivory. The beast stared down at anyone standing in front with an eternal snarl.

  A lot of work went into building this place, I thought, and even more work over the years in maintaining it in pristine condition. Which begged the question of why anyone even bothered if the Emperor hadn’t set foot in this place for decades. Why not simply prepare it when he returned?

  Well, for one thing, I assumed that the sheer amount of dust that would collect in the room would be enough to bury someone in.

  Under the throne and a little to the left, all the way down the steps, was a second seat. It was decidedly less imposing, carved out of wood and gilded with bronze. The Official’s seat, I thought, since they were supposed to rule the city in the Emperor’s stead, and had to do so with a hint of the man’s authority.

  A tall woman was currently seated in the Official’s seat. Long blonde hair dropped all the way down her back in a tightly-bound braid, which gave her good looks a severe appearance. There were a handful of Lancers around her, all fully decked out in armor and weapons, but she wore none. There was no sign of the runed and spelled stuff that people in her position were famous for wearing. There was a longsword like mine leaning against the side of the chair. I assumed it was magical, too.

  She was dressed all in purple and gold, the Emperor’s own colors, and wore thigh-high riding boots. Her clothes looked richly made, and were perfectly designed to both inspire respect for her position as well as accentuate her feminine aspects.

  Odd, how I’d assumed that the Official was a man. The four of us had, in fact. The last Official was a man, and the one before that too, as I recalled. Most of the Officials mentioned in the archives that I’d read were men as well. There was nothing that said a woman couldn’t hold the office, but… Well, whatever the reasons for our assumption, they were quickly put aside. The Official was a woman, by all appearances, and questioning her about that superfluous fact wouldn’t get us anywhere.

  We remained in silence for a few minutes as a stack of papers was put on a desk in front of her. She signed them quickly. Hopefully, she’d read them beforehand and was only just getting the business of running a city out of the way before she turned her attention to us.

  Which she did in short order, with a young aide quickly wheeling the desk away.

  “Ah, the four that fought so bravely to save the Imperial City,” the Official said with a forced smile as she pushed herself up from her seat. She was a couple of inches taller than Braire, and taller than me too, I realized as she looked down at the four of us.

  Or that was the appearance, anyway. She had heels on her boots to give her those inches, which made her about my height, I mused as I refused to turn away from her steely gaze.

  “I expected the four of you to arrive a good deal sooner,” she said as she paced in front of us, her eyes keenly observing. “I was told that among your many abilities is one associated with the djinn of legends—to open portals to distant places, which allows you to travel in mere minutes what would take any other person days. That knowledge tells me that one of two assumptions must be true: either the messenger who was sent to find you took his time and needs both punishment and schooling in how to conduct his business, or the three of you were tardy to the command, and took your time when the Empire’s needs were at stake.”

  “With all due respect, Madame Official,” Noral said, addressing her by her formal title, but the woman raised her hand.

  “Call me Faye, please,” she interrupted as she shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I hate it when people call me by my title.”

  “Faye, then,” Noral replied as she forced a smile of her own. “The Emperor has the power to suggest actions, but never to demand them from the gentry unless he declares a war himself. As that did not happen, we were forced to continue our mission in cleansing the armies amassed by the traitor Cyron. Since there is no word of when or where Abarat might strike again, we decided that leaving the deserters for him to collect was a foolish move. We had engaged a large group of the undead monsters, led, it appeared, by a group of golems, when your messenger found us. We needed time to finish with them before we could return to answer your summons.”

  Faye smiled, and it seemed a good deal more genuine this time. “Ah, well, yes, I’d forgotten that you masqueraded as a human for enough years to understand the intricacies of the nobility of the Empire.”

  “It required a few years at most,” Noral sneered. “Human politics is infantile and simple compared to that of elves.”

  “Thanks,” I grumped.

  “Sorry,” Noral said, sounding like she’d been caught up in the heat of the moment.

  Faye tilted her head. “Right, then. That brings me to my next issue with the three of you.”

  “Four,” I reminded her.

  She ignored my interjection—her entire focus was on the three elves, or rather, two elves and a djinn, in front of her—and talked right over me like she hadn’t even noticed that I was part of the conversation. “You three have carried out the reconstruction of the city with the help of the rest of the elves that returned from… wherever it was they’d gone.”

  Being ignored by her wasn’t something that I minded too much, except for the obvious. It wasn’t comfortable, but there was something about her that didn’t add up in my mind. I wasn’t sure what it was that ticked me off about her but it was an instinct I’d learned to trust. Aliana would say that it had something to do with my Rogue Mage abilities, while Noral would probably sit me down and try to walk me through a meditation to dig deeper into the feeling.

  Braire, on the other hand, would tell me to trust my gut. The woman was refreshingly simple in her view of the world. Complex in so many other ways, but simple in that regard.

  Faye returned to her seat and crossed her legs as she placed her arms on the rests, treating it very much like the throne that was less than ten feet away. “This city is in need of leadership now more than ever, and you chose this time to head off into the outer reaches of the Empire to hunt down monsters?”

  “Is that what you’d call what you’ve been doing, then?” I asked as I stepped forward, unwilling to be ignored any longer. “Leadership?”

  Faye almost reluctantly turned her eyes to me, and tilted her head like she was talking to a child. “Your question has an accusatory tone that I don’t think I understand. Would you care to explain it?”

  I resisted the urge to gulp as her eyes narrowed and the sudden chill in her voice brought to mind the types of tortures the Emperor’s Officials were said to be proficient at.

  I stood my ground and clenched my jaw as I spoke. “As we entered the city, we were accosted by three of your Lancers in a way that would have been unacceptable to any other member of the gentry. I let
them off with a warning, although I know that my companions, and indeed I myself, would have preferred to leave them with a good deal more. Once again, as we came here, a Lancer attempted to assault one of the elves who fought to defend this city, and once again, the four of us were needed to call on cooler heads and calmer minds to keep your men from being lynched by an angry mob of people that remembered how much is owed to the elves. If that is the leadership that you wish on this city, I think you will find that the Emperor’s citizens are in sharp disagreement.”

  I noticed a shift in Faye’s face as she studied me. Like she’d underestimated me and expected me to be little more than a passing fancy to the other three of my party, then realized that while I was not an equal, I was definitely worthy of her attention.

  “I see,” she said, playing for time. “Do you have any proof to substantiate your accusations?”

  “Is my word not enough?” I rebutted.

  Before Faye could answer, Noral stepped in. “If the word of the Emperor’s Varion is not enough, perhaps mine? Or that of my sisters?”

  Faye’s eyes flitted from one sister to the other until they finally came to rest on me. “Very well, then, rest assured that I will address the issue with the Lancers myself. To overcome their prejudices, I will enforce it on the grounds of keeping the peace, to avoid any bloodshed that comes from confrontations between them and the rest of the people. Will that satisfy you?”

  “It’ll suffice,” I said. I’d actually almost forgotten that I had been given a proper title to hold. So much had happened since then. Went to the underworld, came back, fought a large battle, killed Cyron. It was understandable that it had slipped my mind.

  Faye’s nostrils flared at being addressed like an underling, but she held her tongue for the moment and turned her attention back to the three sisters. “Now, with the lesser matters taken care of, or soon to be, anyway, we can move on to more pertinent problems. Your hunting expeditions, for instance?”