Well, well, well, what on earth has happened in that dusty rathole of yours that brings you here to see me? growled a deep voice. The two men sitting in the tea house were not pleased to have their private conversation interrupted by such an unexpected and fidgety visitor. One of them a thin, nervous-looking man moved uneasily in his seat, which was a black silk cushion embroidered with red flowers. The other, more heavyset man was sleek and well-groomed, with an arrogant face, but something about him suggested that he might have been employed as a stevedore at one of Enteverias ports until quite recently. It was his voice Margio had heard upon entering.
Margio bowed as low as his figure allowed, held the pause for as long as he could, and launched into a dramatic retelling of the events of that morning. At the end of the tale (which he augmented liberally with details of his own), he handed the valuable scroll to his protector with a ceremonious flourish. The owner of the tea house fumbled with his short, sausage-like fingers, finally tearing the scroll a bit as he opened it, and his every movement revealed crude strength and an aggressive indifference to sophistication of any kind. His was a strength that stripped the elegance from every object he touched. Looking up from another low bow, Margio could not help but notice that the large mans lips moved as he read silently, like a half-literate priest of the Sun trying to memorize the text of a hymn to the deity on the day before the holy equinox.
Licisium Dorgoe turned to his companion. Look at this, Forsey. These fairy tales are right up your valley. He tossed the scroll the way a man might toss a dog a bone. The other man reached out with both hands and missed. The scroll landed silently on the thick Mustobrim carpet. Forsey cursed and leaned over to pick it up, doing his best to retain his dignity. Dorgoe lifted his chin and stroked his throat with a pompous air.
Fergius, I am pleased with you. For once, your dusty institution is of some use to me. I will speak with the Emperor about providing the funds for improvements to your building. Go now. We are leaving for the palace soon.
As Margio turned to leave, Forsey watched him with a scowl. When the archive director was gone, he turned back to Dorgoe and tried to get his attention. Well? What do you think about this?
Theres nothing to think about. Dorgoe stood up easily, despite his size, and walked over to the window with a cup of Ulinian wine in his hairy hand. Youre a lucky man! he took a sip of his wine and slapped Forsey on the shoulder with a patronizing air. Now you dont have to do anything. He laughed. Just dont expect me to support you all of a sudden because of this.
Thats low of you, Licisium. Forsey whined. He leaped up from his seat and clenched his fists. You promised to think about it. You promised to take everything into consideration! And now you want to abandon me? Was that your plan all along? Dont forget that you stand to benefit from this more than anyone. Why dont you take this scroll and deliver it to Ronko this very day?
Of course not, his burly companion snorted. Let the scroll be your plunder. Here. I give it to you. But you can deal with Ronko on your own. Stripped of his main arguments, he wont be a serious adversary for you. He pulled a wry face. And stop whining. You should thank me for recommending that the council be moved up a week. That caused him to lose his nerve, and he made some mistakes. Why do you think he reached out to that boy at the archive? Because he was desperate.
Forseys face turned white. You know perfectly well what is going to happen if those crazy fools sign a trade pact! Do they really not know what they are doing? I believe they see nothing but their own purses.
Not at all. They simply believe they are saving the country and the Emperor. From you and me. Dorgoe allowed himself a loud cackle. Theyre prepared to do anything, consequences be damned.
So, you agree with me?
Well see. My advice to you, Forsey, is to stop being so blunt. The art of politics does not mix well with bluntness. And remember, the one who wins is not always the one who makes the right move, but the one who knows how to benefit from it.
I dont like it when you speak in riddles. We will meet again at the council. And understand, if you can, that I need your open support!
After Forsey had dashed out of the tea house, Dorgoe stood a while longer at the window, his eyes trained on his confidants receding figure as he made his way across the grass. Smiling as if he had just eaten a good meal, he set his half-empty cup on the eight-sided wooden table and, feeling cheerful, made his way over a carved wooden bridge that spanned a meandering creek. On the other bank, he entered a well-appointed mahogany pavilion where attentive servants had prepared his bath. The steam rising from the bath carried a strong aroma of pine.
To the demons with work, at least for now, Dorgoe reflected happily. Ill have plenty of work to do this evening.
* * *
Uni sat comfortably up to his chin in the water of a luxurious indoor swimming pool, the bottom of which was covered in a pale green tile mosaic featuring images of mollusks, sea urchins, and other inhabitants of the mysterious deep. The sunlight streaming through an opening in the roof created an illusion that half of the pool was made of pure gold, and it was in that golden gleaming that Manelius Ronko splashed and flopped with the easy grace of a young boy. Uni found himself more and more surprised by this man, who seemed to know how to derive the utmost pleasure from each moment of his life. He was unconcerned by the stolen report and equally indifferent to the everyday troubles recounted by the former archivist. Uni found himself infected by the mans demon-may-care attitude (or perhaps the wine had done its work), and he felt capable of living fully in the present, as if all of those unpleasant things the tragic destruction of his hopes, the shameful dismissal from the archive, and the bridge over the Fela, where he had almost ended his own life (as difficult as that was to believe now) had simply never happened. Ronko, after somersaulting in the water like a windmill, folded his hands behind his head and leaned back with evident pleasure on the knees of a lovely marble nymph who leaned out over the waters surface to look at her own reflection.
I have to say our affairs are in good order, more or less, he pronounced optimistically.
Uni, who had begun to drop off under the influence of the herbal aroma rising from the water, looked up and focused his eyes with great effort on his companion.
Our enemies have achieved an insignificant tactical advantage, so they feel relaxed. Thats a mistake. He shook his head. No, that is not entirely precise. Do you know what their biggest drawback is? Theyll take an overly practical approach to the information theyve gained.
Im sorry, what do you mean?
Ronko snorted. What I mean is that Licisium Dorgoe was born an illiterate peasant, a plebian, and he has remained one even after rising to such an exalted position. Dont look at me like Im a snob. Men who rise to great rank after living on the streets tend to think in narrowly practical categories. Thats not surprising. When you are trying to survive, you dont have time to acquire extraneous knowledge. You have to live and think in the moment. You start to ignore everything that doesnt have an obvious value to you at that precise moment in time.
Do you mean that a well-rounded education is an extravagance?
It most certainly is! You have no idea how wasteful education is. You spend years pouring an oceans worth of things you dont need right now into your head just for the pleasure of it, or perhaps with the hope that some of those things might come in useful eventually. As a result, you forget about the most basic things you need to live. You become cut off from the real world. Thats why our greatest wise men never become leaders who determine the fates.
Sounds like me, Uni reflected sadly. Its better to accomplish something before pursuing education. What a pity it took me so long to realize it.
I wouldnt go that far. By the time you reach a position of consequence, your mind loses its flexibility. You acquire mental habits that restrict your thinking, whether you like it or not. You only see the things that affect your daily survival.
Survival? I thought we were talking about after I achieve the rank.
What did you think? Thats when the fighting really gets started. Were you hoping to reach a certain status and then lie around eating grapes for the rest of your life? Thats a dangerous delusion. Heres how it works: there are never enough profitable positions in society for all the energetic people who would like to occupy them. Once you are a man of status, you spend all your time holding onto that status, and the higher you rise, the harder it gets. Theres no time for education at that point, much less motivation. All youll want to do in your free time is relax and give your brain a rest. There are benefits to having status, of course, and Ronko waved a hand at their surroundings, but believe me, they lose their appeal when you spend every second of your waking hours worrying about what will happen to you tomorrow!
But what about you? Isnt your life a direct contradiction of everything youve just said? You spend so much time in the archive, and you know so many things, but at the same time you are a highly placed advisor at the Emperors court. How do you do both?
Me? I suppose Im an exception. First of all, I was lucky enough to be born into a wealthy, aristocratic family with a long lineage. I didnt have to fight to get a place in the world like Dorgoe did. Second, my position in our complex spiderweb of power is entirely too unique for anyone to take it from me. Ill tell you my secret recipe for longevity at court: dont ever try to fill a position that is already open. There will be plenty of other people angling to get the same thing. Make yourself indispensable and create a need that you alone can meet. No one else will ever be able to remove you, try as he might. And third, dont be so hard on yourself. Your view of the world has plenty of advantages that you can use to your benefit.
Youre a better judge than I am, Enel Ronko. The way I see it, I lost. I was outplayed, and there was nothing I could do about it. I also let you down. Uni sighed sorrowfully.
It remains to be seen just who outplayed whom, Ronko said with a laugh as he climbed out of the pool. He stood with his arms out, letting the drops of water roll off his body. A dark-haired Capotian servant girl approached silently, like a cat. She shot a glance at Uni with beautifully lined, almond-shaped eyes before taking a soft cotton towel and drying her masters body as if it were a fine porcelain statue. Ronko grinned at her, and she lowered her eyes in feigned bashfulness. Uni turned away in discomfort, but Ronko read his mind and dismissed the girl with a movement of his head.
As the master wrapped a towel around his waist, Uni noticed with envy that, although the man had to be close to fifty, he had the muscles and build of a much younger man. Any professional athlete in the imperial circus would have been proud to have his sharply defined pectorals, rock-hard abdomen, and broad shoulders.
From the solid gold table at his side, Ronko took a beautiful goblet shaped like a pair of cupped hands and filled it with wine from a Mustobrim pitcher of hammered metal. Then he sat down companionably on the bench next to Uni.
Life is a marathon, not a sprint. Remember that. Given the right circumstances, that heap of useless knowledge can be the very weapon that gives you an advantage over your enemies.
Im starting to understand, but I could wait my entire life for that moment and never see it arrive. How do I know what Ill need and what I wont need?
Do you know what soldiers say? Always carry your sword with you, even if you only happen to need it once.
Thats just a pretty saying. Even the wisest man in the world cant be a specialist in everything. And how can you even master subjects that dont interest you? I doubt that kind of knowledge ever comes in useful.
I wont argue with you. Every person must study that which interests him.
Exactly. Im a specialist in ancient languages, and look where it got me.
Dont say that. Dorgoe wont even know what to do with your report. And youre one of only two people in the empire who knows Virilan, arent you? There you have it. Remember what I said about making yourself irreplaceable?
Uni blinked.
Youll see what I mean soon enough. I just had an idea. Its simple, but bold. My servants will bring you a fresh robe, and then I want you to come with me to a certain grand event. They may have stolen the report, but you did not jump off that bridge. Thats what matters.
Chapter 4. Specialist Work
Other than coming to and from work at the archive, Uni had never visited the sprawling palace grounds. The palace was a state within a state, with its own residents, an army (the Imperial Guards) and everything needed to support life (and a comfortable one, at that) for at least two years if cut off from the rest of the world by some hazard. Uni had always been awed by the palace, and he wondered how and why the ancient Emperors had built such grandiose buildings in which people felt like flies trapped in a bottomless marble canyon.
Uni had a realization. If the ancient architects were trying to demonstrate the Emperors power, they achieved almost the opposite. Our lords look just as small and insignificant as the rest of us in a palace built for giants.
Ronko and his young companion passed through a series of grand halls, each of which was designed to reflect the architectural style of one of the empires many regions. There was welcoming Necredancia, imposing Seregad, elegant and simple Ulin, and nine other regions whose former sovereign glory was all but forgotten, recounted only in certain works of history. Even Herandian chronology counted years starting from the founding of the empire (it was currently the year 403 of the Era of the Sun Kingdom).
Uni realized that Ronko probably knew the answer to a question that had bothered him for many years. Why had the empire retained the old borders of the kingdoms it had vanquished while it changed everything else? Wouldnt it have been wiser to draw new provinces and mix up the peoples who had once been enemies?
Ronko laughed when he heard the question. I see you are a traditionalist, Uni. That is no way for the leader of an unparalleled country to think. The Heavenly Empire is a unique state, and there will never be another like it. We didnt conquer those other peoples by force alone. If we had, we would have been no better than all the other countries that subjected this land to continual war a thousand years ago. We did not take away peoples property or their freedom. We didnt even take away their homelands. With each country, we gave them what they needed. Vuravia had always been wealthy, but its citizens detested war and were slow to rise up against enemies. We protected them without asking for anything in return. Seregad, on the other hand, was the most militaristic of the twelve kingdoms. They wanted to conquer their neighbors, but they were enthralled by our culture. Semeria was a backward place, so we showed them how to work metal, helped them drain their bogs and build towns, and taught them how to grow crops with improved yields. The secret of our empire is that we always gave more than we received, but in the end all of them joined us.