15. Loran
15
LORAN
“… As you well know, I did not authorize the atrocity you saw in the square. To execute citizens without a trial, in the middle of a public square no less. Such a thing would be untenable under Imperial law and all that is good under heaven.”
It was the morning after the battle in the square. Loran and Gwaharad were paying a visit to Prefect Hesperus’s office. Officially, they were there as representatives of the citizenry to petition for redress, but the prefect knew as well as they did that the real reason they were there was because a hundred Kamori soldiers were holding the surrendering legionaries prisoner. The prefect’s hair was grayer than Loran remembered, and his face more wrinkled. He was wearing a deep red doublet with gold buttons.
“Seeing what has transpired since then, I expect the Twenty-Fifth’s Legate Aurelia to also blame it on some rogue element in her legion. That legion is mostly comprised of Phaidians. Unruly barbarians accustomed to pillaging for their supper. The legate is still on her way from Rammania with the main contingent of her command, which makes it difficult to accuse her of this heinous act.”
The prefect’s office had long drapes with a pair of falcons embroidered on them. Symbols of the Empire. Furniture made of luxurious dark wood, imported from who knows where. On the wall was an elaborate portrait of the prefect, painted in vibrant pigments that also had to be imported from afar.
“… The right to resist unjust force is the natural right of any citizen of our Empire. Even if the orchestrator of this violence be an Imperial officer, these deeply illegal, unsanctioned actions…”
The scales had fallen from Loran’s face and the light had gone out in her left eye. Her fury, however, would not subside. Hesperus was the prefect who had ordered the deaths of countless citizens, then had her husband and daughter killed for mourning them. This man, who had refused to grant her an audience no matter how desperately she had petitioned him, was now sitting in front of her and Gwaharad, spewing ridiculous excuses and acting like he cared about the citizens of Arland. He simply would not stop talking.
“… The presence of the legion is, of course, wholly necessary to the security of Arland and the entire Lontaria region, but such things do happen on rare occasions. To mediate in such cases is also my duty as the prefect…”
Loran wanted to grab this man by his lapel and put Wurmath’s tip on his throat, demanding an explanation for the murder of her family. It was as if her blood were boiling in her head. But she must not show it. Gwaharad had asked her not to cause trouble, had told her Hesperus must not be antagonized. That only the prefect could convince the Empire to blame the legion for the incident at the square. That they must use the friction between the Twenty-Fifth and the prefect as an opportunity. That it was crucial they did not put the legion and the prefect on the same side.
“… And although there is talk of calling your people a rebel force, I have seen no evidence of such. You may call yourselves king and princess, but that in itself is no crime. Then we would have hanged ‘the Salt King’ or ‘the Shipping King’ who work in the market as pretenders. I myself know several women in Kingsworth who are often referred to as princesses.” He laughed.
Loran did her best not to burn the prefect to a crisp.
“But what would you do in my situation? If, for example, you retreated at this point, I can make an official report to the Senate that will keep both you and me safe from blame.”
“That is the right thing to do,” Gwaharad said. “But my army suppressed the rogue legionaries’ riot, and brought peace back to your city. Surely there must be some compensation for this.”
Loran’s head quickly turned to Gwaharad. Whether he hadn’t seen her or was ignoring her, he continued to stare at Hesperus.
“Of course. How about ten thousand denarii?”
“Thirteen thousand. In gold, not silver.”
“Then eleven thousand.”
“Arland is lucky to have such a wise prefect.”
They were talking like merchants at the market. Despite Loran’s glare, Gwaharad didn’t even give her so much as a glance. The prefect’s eyes darted toward Loran a few times, but that was it. The two were acting as if they made such transactions every day.
Loran could not stand to be silent any longer.
“Your Majesty, what’s the meaning of this?”
At her calm yet firm voice, the prefect and king stopped talking and turned to Loran.
“Two innocent people were killed, and the legion has wrecked Kingsworth. Are you to do nothing but accept his money and retreat?”
Hesperus, disconcerted, gave a polite cough. Gwaharad softly clucked his tongue to himself and said, “You’ve heard it yourself, Mistress Loran. The affair was not the responsibility of the prefect. It was the legion that was responsible. There will come a day when they answer for what they’ve done.”
“This division between the legion and the prefect is the Empire’s, not ours,” Loran growled. “It does not concern us! How could there be a prefect without a legion, or a legion without a prefect?”
Losing her last scrap of patience, she drew Wurmath from its scabbard. Hesperus gasped and ran toward the window, but tripped over a rug and ended up grabbing the drapes, almost ripping them.
Loran’s voice grew deeper and louder. Smoke issued from her new eyepatch, her left eye regaining sight. “If I slay this man, will the legion not retaliate? Then how is it you consider them as separate?”
Gwaharad, panicking, raised his arms toward her. “Princess, please be calm!”
Now she was a princess again? Loran did not turn away from the prefect.
“You know what will happen if you persist in this manner!” Gwaharad continued.
She knew. She also knew that the reason they were having this conversation with the prefect at all was because the people of the city were still riding high on their triumph, and Hesperus wanted to make the incident go away by blaming it on a rogue element of the legion. Had this been a real war, the prefect would have locked himself inside the castle and waited for the Twenty-Fifth Legion to arrive. Loran and Gwaharad were still in the shadow of the Empire.
She lowered her sword. Gwaharad assumed a persuading tone.
“The matter concerns not two, but hundreds and thousands of lives. What are we to do if the entirety of the Twenty-Fifth overwhelms Kingsworth?”
Her left eye lost its sight again. Wurmath stopped issuing smoke. Gwaharad took a step toward Loran.
“Liberation cannot be achieved in a day,” said Gwaharad placatingly. “Do not forget that a moment of foolishness can cost us everything we’ve gained.”
His voice was soft. The prefect, still petrified, would not let go of the drapes.
“Prefect Hesperus. Forgive us,” Gwaharad said, turning back to the prefect. “The princess is still unused to the ways of the world and seems to have momentarily forgotten herself.”
Loran sheathed her sword. Hesperus coughed again and leaned against his chair to stand up. A few guards burst into the room, but Hesperus dismissed them with a wave of his hand. He gave Loran a sidelong look before straightening his doublet and sitting down once more in as dignified a pose as he could muster.
“When will you give us our compensation?” Gwaharad asked.
“You shall have it when you leave. Will you join us for our midday meal?”
While the prefect and the king exchanged more pleasantries, Loran stared up at the golden falcons on the red drapes. The Empire was strong. No matter how strong Loran herself was, no matter how hot Wurmath might burn, it wasn’t enough to stop the legion and drive the Empire out of her country. She needed to take what she could when she could; perhaps Gwaharad was right.
But there was still one thing she could not accept.
“What are you going to do with the gold?”
Their conversation interrupted, the prefect frowned. Gwaharad hesitated before answering.
“We will use it for the Liberators, of course. You need not worry about it, Mistress Loran. I will make sure my staff do not waste any of it.”
“This is coin gathered by taxing the hard work of Arlanders. Why should it be spent on the Kamori army?”
Gwaharad smiled awkwardly. “As I’ve said before, the Kamori Liberators fight not only for ourselves but for the good of all the Three Kingdoms. I hope you come to see it that way as well. The princess shall have her turn—”
“That money is the price of the lives of two Arlanders,” Loran cut in. Before Gwaharad could speak again, Loran continued. “The old woman in the square had lost her husband, son, and the wife of her son at the Empire’s hand, and now her own life as well. You wish to fill your own stomach with the money made from that injustice?”
Gwaharad looked appalled. “How dare you speak to me this way?!”
Loran’s vision filled with blue. Her burning eyepatch fell to the floor. She smothered the flame with her foot, then took a step toward Gwaharad.
“To be sure, Arlanders are not your own people. But even so, your lack of qualms is astounding. You dare call yourself a king? Much less speak for all the Three Kingdoms?”
Gwaharad’s eyes were wide, his trembling hand on the hilt of his sword.
Loran drew Wurmath and swung the blade. But not at Gwaharad—at the prefect. Half the room was suddenly engulfed in blue dragonfire.
Hesperus screamed, but the sound soon disappeared with him into the fire. Gwaharad stared at Loran, dumbfounded, before running out of the door.
Loran stood where she was, watching as the red drapes went up in blue flames.