31. Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Caelan
I t was late evening when my father finally called for a private audience. All the better, as he didn't interrupt my little training session with Eave. Pretty sure she knew how to bow properly to an emperor now.
I enjoyed the memory of her lip quivering beneath icy, furious eyes as I steeled myself for my audience. I was admitted by guards into the emperor's private office as soon as I arrived.
My father sat at his desk, a massive, ostentatious slab of rare wood that took up almost all of the small chamber. Strewn across it were papers in disarray. Daggers and goblets and women’s discarded jewelry acted as paperweights. He probably fucked on this desk more often than he worked at it, I thought, though he was working now. Or at least, he was putting on a good show of it.
He glanced up when I entered the room, as if he were not sure who to expect. Immediately, his gaze went back down to the paper before him.
I bowed and rose. I waited.
“Now that the show’s over, tell me,” he said brusquely.
I took a deep breath. “Our party approached the Firecap Mountains without major incident. Several parties of demons attacked us on the way but we took them out easily. We got close enough to confirm that the mountain is active again."
The emperor snorted. “If that’s all you’re good for, boy, you shouldn’t have gone. A quake damn near cracked my palace in half. A schism opened that marches right towards the damned peak. I know the damned mountain’s active again.”
I took a deep breath to quell the defensive reactivity that wanted to spill out my mouth. It would get me nowhere to quarrel with him like a child. “As you say, Emperor. On our return, the same quake hit us, too. It coincided with the eclipse that Lady Nahome warned of. The black glass plains were fractured into pieces and our party was separated. Tajawl chose this moment to attack. He fought me with several other demons who rose from tunnels beneath the glass plains. Lord Kells was injured and separated from me. He is still missing. My guardsman, Joab Coy, was killed by Tajawl. Lady Obsan was injured, but thankfully seems to be healing well. And unfortunately, High Commander Fakoury was killed by a demon during the attack.”
My father grunted. “You saw him die?”
My heart raced. A part of me yearned to tell the truth. If anyone knew what Junaid’s final words meant, it would be my father. And if the High Commander had been a part of the rising rebellion, it could be important for my father to know about it. But sharing Fakoury’s betrayal meant sharing that I had been the one to kill him. Telling the truth meant revealing that I was an altayr. And a much bigger part of me warned that I should not do this.
“I did.” I tried not to shift from foot to foot. I stared straight ahead out the window behind my father. I imagined I was a bird in that blue sky. I imagined freedom.
“How did he go?”
“His throat was slit.”
My father nodded. “Quick, then.”
“Yes, Emperor.”
“Good.”
I hesitated. “Emperor, I feel I must apologize. Though High Commander Fakoury was far beyond me in experience, I was the commander of this mission. The choices made were my own. If I—”
“Stop.”
I fell silent.
“Stop that fucking whining, boy. You want to know what it takes to rule? It’s this: Never look back. A decision, once made, is stone. You could never have done anything else. Nothing else could have happened. A ruler who doubts himself is lost, do you understand?”
I bowed my head. It was as close to forgiveness as I’d ever receive. It was perhaps the first time my father had offered me wisdom about ruling. He’d never thought me worth the trouble.
“Go on,” he said.
“The Touched woman was with their party. I captured her along with Tajawl.”
“Can he burn?” my father interrupted.
“He can.”
My father nodded. He’d looked up from his papers; his eyes were far away, perhaps in a past made of stone. “They can. The Tajawls, I mean. Not all of them, it's rare. Rare enough to keep it a secret. Once there were more of them and everyone knew. Then it seemed like they couldn't do it anymore. But his mother could. Now…” He tapered off but I didn't need him to finish. Now that altaya magic had faded from our bloodline, he preferred the people of Vaharilar to think that the Tajawl magic had faded, too.
I hesitated—I must proceed carefully. “When I got Tanead back to the Fortress of Archeon, I assigned six men to escort him to a dragonstone cell. Before they got him in the cell, he killed them and escaped. He was recaptured before escaping the fortress.”
“By Amon.”
I clenched my jaw but kept my tone even. “Yes.”
“Why not you?”
“I was not the one to find him.”
My father nodded but the far-away look was still in his eyes. Abruptly they came back into sharp focus and peered at me across the desk as if I were a specimen he studied. “Why didn’t he burn Amon?”
“He tried. Amon kept him at weapon’s length and kicked his face until he was barely conscious. I don’t think he can do it if he’s too badly injured.”
“How did you capture him?”
Ah, the question I loathed to answer. I could not tell my father I’d used Arbaaz. I shrugged, adopting a cocky expression. “I was the better swordsman.”
“I don’t doubt it but why didn’t he burn you?”
Another hesitation. Junaid tried to kill me after I told him. I could say that he never tried. But would such a lie be believable?
“I believe he tried, Emperor, but it didn’t work.”
The emperor’s gaze sharpened to knife point. I felt it carving up my insides as it pierced me across the room. “Tell me.”
“He touched my face once, during our fight. It didn’t do anything. After, he seemed surprised. Perhaps it was nothing. Or perhaps I’m immune to his touch.”
“And why might that be?” My father’s voice was quiet. Dangerous. Did I imagine the way his hand twitched towards the dagger he wore on his belt?
“I imagine it’s my mother’s blood in me, Emperor. If the Tajawls' magic is still alive, perhaps the Hagos magic is as well.”
“We do not burn.” The king rolled the words of my mother’s house over on his tongue, considering them.
I half-bowed and held the position, waiting for him to tell me to go on. My heart raced. The secrets I kept were delicate to navigate. But at least my father did know that I’d been the one to capture Tajawl.
It felt like a long time before he waved his hand to tell me to continue.
“After the fight, I was alone with my prisoners. Joab had fallen protecting me. Lady Obsan and Baris Barellis managed to make their way back to Archeon together. Lord Kells did not.”
“Kells is a problem. If he doesn’t resurface soon, we’ll have to transfer the lordship of the Belly. He has no sons. It’ll be a mess. But enough about men. Tell me of the dragon.”
“Asherah. The quake was the result of her hatching. But my companion says she is not yet Bonded.”
“You trust your new companion?”
I shrugged. “It makes sense. Dragons Bond with blood. It was Tanead’s mother, Ead Tajawl, who threw the egg into the Firecaps. My companion says the dragon comes this way, seeking Tanead’s blood. He will be her Chosen.”
My father studied me with the same curious expression on his face as before. But as before, it soon was replaced, this time by bloodthirstiness. “Then we kill it before it reaches him. We kill it now, when it’s still a stumbling infant. With any luck, our men will find Kells while they’re out there.”
“Yes, Emperor. I’d like your permission to lead a party into Los to execute the Reborn. It is vital to leave immediately. The demons will rally to protect it, so I think we should take three, maybe four units of men.”
“No.”
“Six, then.”
“No, you will not lead the party.”
“As you wish, Emperor," I said stiffly. "May I have permission to join the party, under the commander of your choosing? If you'll allow me, I'd recommend Commander Idris to replace Lord Fakoury as High Commander. I've found him to be—”
“You will not go.”
The words were a shock of cold water. I couldn’t pretend to be surprised that he denied me command, but to keep me from the fight didn’t even make sense. I was one of the most skilled fighters in his empire. I was privy to secrets unknown to lesser men. I was one of only a few people in our realm to have been inside Los.
“Honored Emperor, I know the landscape of Los. I am qualified—”
“I said no. Your presence is needed at Junaid’s funeral. As you admit, you commanded the mission that killed him. Would you dishonor him and his family with your absence at the Hunt in his honor?”
“Of course not. But perhaps I could proceed to the Borderlands after the Hunt is finished. I will be able to move more quickly than the army; I could catch up.”
“Don’t make me say it again, boy. Do you have anything else to report?” My father’s eyes didn’t drop back to his papers this time; he looked me right in the eye. There was only coldness in his face.
“No, Emperor,” I said stiffly.
His mouth curved into a sneer. He and Amon looked so much alike. “You come back here, having commanded a failed mission, and you think I will send you out again against the most potent threat our dynasty has faced in all the time we’ve ruled? You’re a good fighter. But it doesn’t mean you can command. You’ll be a liability, and of more use to me elsewhere.
“In fact, Father Devan has requested that you take on a bigger role in the temple in preparation for your future position as First Priest. You have neglected your duties there in favor of the sword and it’s time that stops. You are my second son, destined for service to the temple. Perhaps you’ll find a place and purpose for yourself there. Your new companion can only be a boon to you. I hope you do well.”
I quivered, flooded with the heat of shame and fury at his words. Was this a punishment for Junaid’s death? It must be. It was too cruel otherwise.
The emperor turned his back on me and leaned against the window, perhaps hoping to catch a cool breeze. It was deadly hot in this spire. I stared at his back, words clamoring over other words in my head, vying to be the ones I said next. But I was speechless.
“You’re dismissed.”
I bowed. I tried not to run from the room as the door slammed behind me.
My mind was in turmoil. I wanted to scream and slash with my swords until my muscled arms failed me. Denial screamed in my mind. This could not happen. And yet, it was.
No sense of command, he said. I couldn’t move the minds and spirits of men like a ruler. Nobody feared me. So he threw me away, burying me in the temple where all of the men were impotent, subject to the whims of their lord and savior, the emperor.
When my father died, that would be Amon. If my father thought I’d spend my life teaching our subjects that Amon had a divine right to be a bloody bastard, he underestimated me wildly.
I took a deep breath and slowed my steps. I was nearly to the mews, so far had my thundering steps carried me.
Broker's advice intruded on my thoughts. If you want your father to get the message, you have to speak to him in a language he understands.
All my life I’d pretended weakness to protect myself. I’d hidden my altaya magic and the knowledge I’d learned from books behind brawny muscles that allowed people to see me as unthreatening. I'd thought he would notice that soldiers respected me and applaud my skills with weaponry. I'd thought leading the campaign into Los would impress him. Stupid. None of these things mattered to my father.
The things that did—well, I'd avoided them. Feared that giving in to my own desires would make me like him and Amon. But pretending softness had made me soft. Just look at me with Eave. She was mine. And yet I hadn't even taken her.
Because I feared what I wanted most.
I wanted to consume another person, to make them completely mine, body, mind, and soul. I wanted men to die for me and women to live for no one but me.
I wanted to see the back of a neck as a subject bowed to me.
I wanted Amon to look on my power and quiver. I wanted the helplessness he felt to make him piss himself.
I’d made my desires an enemy, but such desires had given strength to Havardian rulers for a thousand cycles.
It was time to claim that strength as my own. It was time to stop pretending.