The vast hall of the High Council was filled to capacity as every ranking noble every man and the few women who were ruling lords and ladies of the hundreds of Houses of Rank in the Empire had attended to hear Mirandas warning. Dressed in a riot of hues, they wore robes of house colours here one of yellow with crimson trim, there another of black trimmed with pale blue each bedecked with beading and braids and adorned with precious stones and clasps of precious metal. They were arrayed according to Tsurani tradition in groups that constituted clans, but many who sat silently, waiting for the Emperors reply, stole glances at confederates in other parts of the hall, at members of their own political parties. Tsurani politics were not only deadly but convoluted and intricate, an ever-shifting balancing act on the part of each ruler, weighing blood loyalty on one side against expediency and opportunity on the other.
Miranda spoke. Majesty, lords and ladies of the High Council, we come today with a warning, for as dire a threat as can be imagined now bears down on this world.
Miranda had rehearsed all she would say as she and the Great Ones had awaited the gathering of the Council, and she moved quickly from the discovery of the Talnoy on her world by Kaspar of Olasko to the recent incursion of the Dasati into this world. She glossed over nothing, and she had no temptation to embellish. The unvarnished truth was frightening enough. When she had finished, she saw the Emperor sitting quietly and realized he did not look surprised by anything she had said. She glanced at Alenca who gave the slightest shake of his head indicating he didnt understand the lack of reaction either. She knew that the Light of Heaven had been kept current as to what the Assembly was doing regarding the Talnoy in their possession, but she knew none of what had occurred since she had been captured had been communicated. The existence of the Dasati incursion had to have been a shock to the young Emperor, yet he sat calmly as if considering what to ask be prepared for his evening meal. Emperor Sezu had come to his office only recently, four years before, and like his father before him had ruled a relatively peaceful empire.
Miranda turned her attention from the Light of Heaven to the High Council. Once again she was astonished at the Tsurani mind, for although she had just delivered as dire a warning as could be imagined, she suspected as many as a third among the attending lords were wondering how to gain advantage from the coming chaos, and from their expressions, fully another third seemed incapable of fully understanding what it was they had just heard. It was the last third, who did understand the dangers of which she spoke, who realized they were all in peril, who showed the proper distress and who waited silently on the Light of Heavens pleasure. The impatient shifting of silks and the nervous scuffling of leather sandals on the floor was a counterpoint to the silence as all waited for the Emperor to speak.
Beside the youthful ruler stood another black-robed magician, Finda by name, an older mage with whom Miranda had only a passing acquaintance. He was the current advisor from the Assembly to the Imperial Throne and from his expression it appeared he would rather be just about anywhere else in the vast Tsurani Empire at this moment.
Miranda was not the expert on Tsurani society her husband was he had lived among them for years but she still understood it well enough to have a sense of what was likely to be the reaction among the ruling families. The warlike Tsurani traditions still dominated the politics of the Empire, the Game of the Council as it was called, but rather than armed confrontation new means of domination and influence were employed: wealth, influence and social position. With the occasional murder, midnight raid, and abduction thrown in, Miranda thought. At times Tsurani politics reminded her of nothing so much as the criminal wars in Great Kesh; the Mockers of Krondor would have fitted right in.
Five great families Keda, Minwanabi, Oaxatucan, Xacatecas and Anasati still dominated the many clans and political parties that defined the governance of the Empire. Traditionally they had been the only families able to claim the title of Warlord, until the current Emperors great grandmother seized the throne for her son. And above all others there remained one constant: the Emperor. The Light of Heaven could overrule any judgment of the High Council. He could order war or force feuding clans to put down their arms at whim. Such was his power.
All waited as the Emperor upon the golden throne, seat of power for two thousand years in the Empires history, pondered his response. The assembled lords of the great and lesser houses were silent to a man. No one dared speak before the Light of Heaven.
Miranda took note of the empty chair at his side, set slightly lower on the dais. It had been placed there by Sezus great grandmother, the legendary Lady Mara of the Acoma, Mistress of the Empire, the only person in the long history of the Tsurani people to hold that title. In saving her house from bitter enemies, she had reformed a nation, freeing suffering millions from lives without hope. As a result of her acts a nation had risen that now placed as much importance on art, music and literature as it did on honour, bravery, and sacrifice in war. The Empire was not without its struggles and difficulties, but it had been reborn under the last three emperors despite attempts by traditionalists to steer the Empire back to old values and ways.
All eyes now turned to the Emperor as the Light of Heaven stirred.
Sezu, First of that Name, at last revealed his reaction: he looked deeply troubled. When his great grandmother had brought reform to the Empire she had also transformed the office of Emperor from an almost entirely ceremonial one to the ultimate seat of power within the Empire, and the weight of his responsibilities had already aged him beyond his thirty-six years. Softly he said, Dire words, indeed, Lady Miranda. We have been a relatively peaceful nation for more than two generations. Some difficulties with our neighbours in the Thuril Highlands and across the Sea of Blood to the south have kept some of our young men mantled in glory and heaped honours upon their houses. But we have not fought a major war since our invasion of your homeworld.
Miranda nodded. The Emperor had Midkemian blood in him: Maras Midkemian lover, Kevin, had been acknowledged father of Emperor Justin. And while that fact gave some vague sense of kinship, this young man was entirely Tsurani. Yet there was something else, something almost rehearsed in his next question. Would it not serve if this Talnoy was removed from our lands and returned to your world?
Miranda looked at Alenca, eldest of the Great Ones, who said, Light of Heaven, we have considered that, and we think it pointless. It was the renegade, Leso Varen, who provided aid to the Dasati in establishing their presence here. They know now how to return, and we are sure they would do so. He paused as if weighing his words carefully, then said, There is something about our world Many of us think these Dasati have marked this world for a reason; we just dont know what that reason is. He fell silent for a long moment, then added, We think the nations need to prepare for invasion.
The Emperor was silent for a very long time to consider this. Then he spoke in what Miranda could only term a precise manner. She realized this young Emperor was no fool. He knew what she and Alenca were going to say before they said it! Her instinct that he had not been shocked was justified. But she wondered how he had known. She was also sure that he had rehearsed his reply!
Attend me, said the Light of Heaven formally to the assembled Council, as he stood up. The assembled lords of the Empire stood at once, for it was not permitted for any lesser being to sit in the presence of the monarch when he was not also seated. Our tradition is ancient, our ways time-honoured, but now we face new perils unlike any in memory. We are reminded of hallowed antiquity, of a time of myth, and the arrival of the nations over the golden bridge.
Our lore-keepers suggest that what we fled from the Home Before Time was too monstrous a thing to even bear accounting, so no word of description, no tale or song even suggests what it was that drove us to this world. It is merely that thing from which the nations fled. He paused for a moment, then added, We fear that now such a horror returns to task the nations. He fell silent to let his words sink in. Miranda knew enough of Tsurani lore to know he had struck a chord with the lords of the High Council, for the root of Tsurani history was the Myth of Arrival. It was a tale Pug had recounted to her more than once, the image of the majestic golden bridge of light through a massive rift across which thousands of refugees flooded into Kelewan, fleeing the terrors of the Chaos Wars. It was the foundation of every Great Ones training, the birth of those people who later would become the Tsurani, instilling a deep sense of community that was the heart of every magicians oath to serve the Empire.
It is the tradition that when the nations go to war, the Warlord is given the power to conduct the business of war. That office has remained empty for years. Miranda could see half a dozen ruling nobles looking on eagerly. One of them by rights would be granted the office, the second most powerful position in the Empire, historically at times even more important than the Golden Throne. It was the ultimate prize for any ambitious Tsurani noble. It is to our cousin, Tetsu of the Minwanabi, I turn. He looked towards a grizzled noble, still powerful in bearing despite his heavy physique and grey hair. Will you accept this heavy burden, my lord?
Tetsu of the Minwanabi bowed his head, barely able to contain his emotions. Gladly, Majesty. I live to serve: my life and honour are yours.
The Emperor turned to the assembled lords. Send word to your commanders, my lords. The nations go to war. Go now and return at the second hour after sunrise tomorrow and we shall ready ourselves. He turned to his First Advisor, an elderly man named Janain who had previously been his fathers First Advisor. Send word to the Priests of Jastur. I will arrive at noon tomorrow to break the Holy Seal.
Miranda glanced at Alenca, uncertain what this particular order meant. The old magician gave a slight shake of his head. But she could tell from the attitude of every man in the room that this announcement was both important and alarming.
The Emperor continued, I will take the counsel with the Lady Miranda, the Great Ones with whom she arrived, and the Warlord. He paused for a moment, then ended the assembly with the formal dismissal, Honours to your houses, my lords.
He stepped down from dais and everyone in the room bowed, the common servants going to their knees. As the Emperor swept past, he glanced in Mirandas direction, and indicated that she should follow.
As the newly-appointed Warlord fell into step behind the Emperor, Alenca held Miranda back for a moment. Without preamble, he said, By breaking the seal on the temple of the War God, the Light of Heaven ensures all other matters become moot. No faction struggle, clan feud, or debt of blood may be undertaken until the temple door is again resealed, and that will not happen until final victory is achieved. He glanced around as if worried about being overheard. You must understand the gravity of this. He has told them that not only are we preparing for the possibility of war, but that we are going to war.
Miranda was confused. Isnt that what we wanted?
Alenca said, It is not what I expected. Moreover, I never believed any emperor would again revive the office of Warlord. To promote a Minwanabi to that position
What does it mean? asked Miranda, wishing not for the first time but with more fervour than ever before that her husband were here. Pug would understand all of this.
There is an old saying, one that I am certain you have among your people as well: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. The Minwanabi were defeated by the Acoma, the Emperors ancestors, and rather than the usual obliteration, with every living member of that family put to the sword or sold into slavery, the great Lady of the Acoma, the Mistress of the Empire, in a gesture of mercy unimaginable to any Tsurani ruling noble, allowed the Minwanabi to survive. That made one of the original five great houses a vassal to a lesser house, an insult to our ancestors despite the generosity of the gesture.
I dont understand, said Miranda.
You would have to be Tsurani to understand fully, I fear, said Alenca, motioning for Miranda to follow. A minor cousin, one of the last surviving members of the last true Minwanabi lord was made ruling lord and he later married an Acoma cousin, further binding the two houses together, but the insult to the Minwanabi by the Acoma was never forgotten. I suspect that breaking the seal on the temple and putting the most dangerous man in the Empire in charge of the war is our Light of Heavens tactic to ensure that his most bitter enemy within the High Council is otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future and not exploring the possibility of regicide.
Miranda took a deep breath to calm herself and wondered, not for the first time, if the Tsurani were truly mad.
Miranda continued to observe the young Emperor as he oversaw the conference in his private chambers. They had met only briefly on two previous occasions, the first when he was a boy in his fathers court, and the second time when he assumed the throne. The later event was so dominated by Tsurani tradition that she had been in his presence for less than five minutes, and the entire conversation had been between the young Emperor and her husband. Miranda had found it annoyingly ironic that she was soundly ignored by a tradition-bound young man who owed his position entirely to a tradition-breaking woman, his great-grandmother.
And again she was being left on the edge of the conversation while the newly-appointed Warlord and the Emperor directed the bulk of the questions to Alenca and the two other senior magicians from the Assembly. At one point in the hour-long interrogation she had verged on volunteering an observation, but Alenca had shot her a warning glance and a slight shake of the head and she had remained silent. Because of her husbands affections for the old man and her previous dealings with him, she followed his lead, but wondered at what he was playing.
Despite the injury done to her pride and independent nature, Miranda was impressed by how deftly the Emperor manoeuvred the discussion in the direction in which he wished it to go, deftly controlling the flow of debate and manipulating opinion. After another hour of discussion, she was now certain that despite his youth, this Sezu of the Acoma, First of that Name, Emperor of all Tsuranuanni and Light of Heaven, was nobodys fool. When the meeting came to a close, he had fashioned a consensus without once having to appeal to his own authority.
As she rose, the Emperor said, Lady Miranda, a moment please.
Alenca hesitated, then bowed slightly again to the Emperor and with an expression of curiosity indicated to Miranda that hed wait outside for her. Once the Tsurani nobles and magicians had departed, the Emperor said, May I offer you something? Wine? I have several very good reds from your Kingdom of the Isles, as well as some of those that have been cultivated here, though I fear our hot climate makes for difficult vintages.