Chapter 31
EMERE
The iron door to the underground room of worship opened. Two figures, both wearing hooded cloaks like Rakel’s and Emere’s, stood on the other side. One was an unfamiliar tall man, and the smaller figure beside him …
She lowered her hood and revealed her familiar face, her left eye covered by a red eyepatch. But whether it was the candlelight or the weight of the moment, her countenance seemed darker than he remembered. He wanted to run to her, but there were too many people between them.
Ahmus bowed. “The congregation welcomes you, Your Majesty. Your friend is also here.”
She looked around the room at that, and when her eyes found him, she immediately strode toward him. The Ebrians made way before her. Emere didn’t know what to say or how to act as he waited for her to close the distance.
Loran held her arms open, and the front of her cloak opened to reveal her familiar leather armor. The darkness in her face lifted with a glad smile. Emere had barely taken a step forward when he found himself enfolded in her arms.
“Prince Emere! How long has it been? I’ve long wanted to see you again, but how unexpected the circumstances!”
“Your Majesty. Have you been well…” His throat closed and he could not continue.
Emere released one of his hands from Loran’s firm grasp and wiped a tear from his face, coughing embarrassedly.
He noticed Rakel looking closely at them, before he realized the whole room was scrutinizing their exchange.
Ahmus smiled. “Well, now we can rest assured we have the true King of Arland with us. Make way for Her Majesty.”
The Ebrians murmured as they shifted, and a small table that had been covered by the crowd appeared. There were two chairs. Ahmus sat down in one and bade Loran to take the other. Seeing Rakel and two others stand by Ahmus on his side, Emere went to Loran’s and stood by her.
Ahmus made introductions. “These three are the elders who represent us Ebrians here in the Capital. Ordinarily, we forbid all three of them to ever gather in one place, but the proposal Your Majesty has set before us is of such importance that we have summoned them here together.”
Loran nodded at each of them and sat down. Rakel politely returned the nod, as did the other two. Emere examined the two elders he didn’t know but who had familiar looks in their eyes. He was reminded of his compatriots in his brother Gwaharad’s underground palace.
The meeting began with Loran expressing gratitude for their welcome. And so it began, a talk between two nations that never would’ve found reason to talk to each other if not for the Empire, taking place in the very bowels of said Empire’s capital city.
Emere’s eyes barely left Loran as the talk progressed. Each word and phrase of hers was laden with desperate and serious meaning.
“… Ebria nowadays suffers…”
“As for our people scattered across the world, the Empire…”
“The Capital now is in a very different situation from two years ago…”
Loran made no demands, mostly listened, answered every question put to her, and made an occasional inquiry herself.
She had always been like this, even two years ago when the Arlander rebels had conquered the Imperial fort.
Loran had always listened more than she spoke.
Because, she would explain with a smile, she had nothing but the modest knowledge of a teacher of swordsmanship.
The continuing oppression of Ebrians, their prefect who was nothing more than an attack dog for the Empire even though he himself was an Ebrian, the rescue of Office of Truth prisoners being persecuted for worshipping their god …
Their stories reminded Emere of how he had lived before coming to the Capital.
Rakel’s role was to ask Loran questions. What Loran could do for them, whether she had talked to any other countries, if Arland had an army they could call on … Loran’s answers were short but respectful, and Rakel did not look satisfied with them.
When the Ebrian elders ran out of words, Loran’s voice, low but clear, made itself heard to every person in the room.
“I have listened to your concerns. I understand how difficult it would be to trust an outsider from a faraway land, and a nonbeliever at that. In the spirit of good faith, if there is one request you wish me to fulfill first, then I shall do it.”
She looked at Emere and smiled. The four Ebrians talked among themselves in their language.
Emere stayed silent, staring back at Loran.
He could see what he hadn’t noticed before—she looked a little older.
Whether it was because of her travels, or because of the tiring business of making alliances, there was fatigue in her face and gestures.
Lowering his voice, he asked, “Your Majesty, will you really do anything they ask of you?”
Loran leaned toward him and whispered, “If it is something I can do, yes. They already know that my only talent is in fighting, so I doubt their request will be something impossible.” She considered her words for a moment, and whispered in his ear, “Even with such offers, making alliances has proven to be difficult.”
Her tone was laden with exhaustion.
What could Loran do to move the Ebrians a step closer to freedom? The priest and the elders were engaged in heated debate. What did they hold dear? They probably wanted the same result, but they were likely not of the same mind in how to achieve it. A consensus would be a feat in itself.
The discussion here, however, was probably not looking far into the future. The oppression Ebria experienced was different from that of other provinces. Even if they escaped the tyranny of their prefect by leaving their homeland, they would know no peace as long as they worshipped the Nameless God.
Was that why Loran had come here, to the Ebrians in the Capital, and not to Ebria itself?
The debate among the elders was getting harsher. Ahmus occasionally gave Loran an apologetic look as the discussion dragged on. Just when the tone of their talk made it seem like they would be at it for hours more, the four people said “Ayula” at the same time.
The interminable debate terminated; Ahmus turned to Loran.
“We apologize for keeping you waiting. The suggestion you make is no small thing, and we could not come to a consensus. I’m afraid we need to discuss it for a few days more.
However, what Your Majesty has achieved thus far is war, and we have always protected our own in subtler, secret ways.
Perhaps our homeland is ready to fight, but it is far away; we in the Capital are not ready to battle the Empire.
So, whether there is a request we can make of you, and whether there is a commensurate deed we can do in return, is a matter of skepticism for the four of us. ”
Emere knew this was a politely worded “no.” Loran opened her mouth to speak but said nothing, turning her head to Emere instead. The disappointment in her face stabbed him like a knife.
Loran must’ve wandered the whole world in the two years since disappearing from Arland, just as Emere had done so many years ago.
How many peoples had actually agreed to fight alongside Loran and Arland against the Empire?
There was no consternation in Loran’s face, just disappointment.
Something about the way she held it in her face made him think she was used to it.
He couldn’t just stand there and watch.
“Then I must alert you to the dangers that we are all facing.”
When Emere spoke, Ahmus and the elders looked up at him in surprise—they never would’ve imagined he would interject in this meeting.
He was only there to verify Loran’s identity, and the fact that he was a councillor or a Kamori prince did not allow him to intervene in a discussion between Ebria and Arland.
But perhaps what they were discussing now had everything to do with his destiny.
“Commons Councillor Ludvik, with the Office of Truth, is plotting to take control of the Senate and appoint himself as Imperator. It is of the utmost importance that we stop him.”
Murmurs. The people in the room shuffled their feet.
“Prince Emere,” said Ahmus in a somewhat placating voice, “we thank you for telling this to us, but if that is true, isn’t this mere infighting among the Imperial elite? What relevance does any of that have to the business at hand?”
Emere had spoken to Ahmus, but his eyes were on Loran.
“Earlier, you said that the Senate is falling in line with the Office of Truth. That they are plotting revenge against Arland.” Loran’s face didn’t change as he spoke and registered no surprise.
“They are not going to stop there,” Emere continued.
“Once Ludvik takes power in the Empire, the whole world will come under the tyranny of the Office of Truth.”
Ahmus looked at Rakel, who nodded. No more words were necessary.
The people gathered here were Ebrians, the people the Office of Truth had oppressed the most. They knew better than any other peoples what would happen if the Office of Truth took power.
But how much danger were they willing to face?
Who dared to interfere with the affairs of one of the highest offices of the Empire?
“Prince Emere,” said Loran, “I do not know of the Office of Truth well, only what I have heard in the wind. Are they more powerful than the legions?”
“If Ludvik becomes the Imperator, the Office of Truth will control the whole of the Empire, its legions, all the prefects. They will have the power to burn the world with their fanaticism.”
“Then we must cut off the head of the serpent, before that happens.”
Loran turned to Ahmus. One didn’t have to see the blue fire burning underneath her eyepatch to understand that it was a stare that demanded a decision.
Ahmus, Emere realized, was standing at the crossroads of destiny.
Just as the Tree Lords had taught, no one could avoid the moment of choice.
Ahmus had to make the decision, like a king for his people, as the Circuit of Destiny would say.
For the Ebrians in the Capital, and perhaps for all the Ebrians in the world.
As Ahmus’s troubled silence lengthened, the room became so quiet they could hear the flames burning on the candles. Just as Emere was about to urge him for an answer, Ahmus spoke.
“How do you know, Prince Emere, that the Office of Truth is attempting to establish an Imperator?”
“There is a faction within the Ministry of Intelligence working against Ludvik. I heard it from them.”
Emere debated whether to tell them about meeting Cain inside the Circuit of Destiny, but ultimately decided against it. Mentioning the Circuit here would not help matters.
Ahmus once again glanced at Rakel, who nodded as before. He got to his feet.
“I must consult with the elders. Until then, we invite Her Majesty Loran to stay here. I bid the rest of you be careful of what you speak and guard the holy silence. Ayula.”
A chorus of “Ayula” answered him, and the gathered crowd began to exit the room.
Rakel said to Loran, “Your Majesty, we have a room ready for you. Kesaya will show you the way.”
A woman in red and white, who looked to be in her twenties, came forth at the mention of her name and curtsied. Loran nodded her head in response, stood up, and smiled at Emere once again.
“Two whole years since we last met, and here we are without even a chance to have a drink. Once affairs are settled here—or not settled, as it were—I do wish to hear about your time since our last meeting.”
“I as well.”
He was staring at Loran’s back as she followed Kesaya out the door when Rakel laid her hand on Emere’s arm.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“Making an alliance with King Loran?”
Rakel nodded. “I also think we need to stop the Office of Truth from taking control of the Empire. And any other time, this would’ve been impossible, like trying to stop an earthquake or a tidal wave…”
“But now we have King Loran.”
“That’s what I worry about. Emere, Ahmus will do whatever I advise him to do.
I need to know what you think. If we interfere in Imperial politics, what happens after?
That tiny army in Arland defeating a single legion among a hundred has made the Empire this hostile, so what do you think would happen if we were found responsible for blocking the transition of power that the Senate approved in all but name? ”
They stared at each other. The Rakel Emere knew was always calm in the face of danger, like the surgeon she was. She had been his source of stability in their travels together. Now, he could not read her expression.
“Rakel, I don’t know what would happen either. But I do know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Whatever happens, it never ends. There’s always something that follows, a new chance, a new decision to make.”
Rakel grinned. “Except for us.”
For the first time in a long time, Emere reached out and swept his fingers through Rakel’s hair.
“When we parted ten years ago, I thought so, too. But here we are, together again. We might not be the way we were, but this is a wonderful next thing.”
Rakel floated a faint smile and turned her head just enough to avoid his gaze. Emere stood there waiting for her to say something back, but Rakel’s lips never parted.