Empire of Avarice (32 page)

Amne then took a big chance. “Do you love me, Lalaas?”

The hunter drew in a deep breath. “I think it’s time to
go to sleep, ma’am. It’s getting very late.”

Amne stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “Yes,
it’s late. Thank you, Lalaas.”

The hunter waited until she had retired to her tent,
then set about piling the cooked meat onto the platter and wrapping it in a bag
before putting it under his saddle. He then sat by the fire for a while, deep
in thought.

Amne, meanwhile, lay in her makeshift bed and looked
into the middle distance, a smile on her face.

Empress Isbel sat at the head of the Council and faced
the rows of nobility seated down either side of the long table. The Grand
Council was due to sit in a few sevendays but Isbel had called it slightly
earlier than expected as things could not wait any longer. The information she
had been receiving from Vosgaris and other people pointed to a growing move to
oust the Koros from power. It had been allowed to go on for too long.

“Gentlemen,” she began, “I have called this Council
early because I have received distressing news that some of you are plotting to
remove the imperial family and replace us with some amongst you.”

The nobility broke out into a buzz of noise, heads
turning left and right. One, the leader of the Palanges family, a man by the
name of Guttan, stood up angrily. “Have you summoned us to accuse us all of
treason? If that is so present the evidence. If not then it is clear you are
unfit to be sitting where you are!”

A chorus of agreement broke out and hands thumped the
table. Isbel leaned back in her chair and looked along the two rows of animated
people. “Oh yes, Guttan Palanges, I do indeed have evidence.”

The nobleman slowly sat down, his face draining of
colour. Silence descended upon the assembly. The empress stood up, waving the
rest to remain seated. “Ever since my husband publicly declared all tax
privileges were at an end and that the nobility had to pay their fair share of
taxes, there have been a number of plots to remove the Koros from power, and
for a more – sympathetic – regime to be placed here instead.” She smiled
bitterly at the faces staring at her. “Once more there are those amongst you
who ignore the perilous state of the empire and only think of enriching
yourselves to the detriment of us all. It is not enough that the army has been
starved to the point of death and the people denied the use of public buildings
or the Empire’s facilities because all of these have been stripped of funding
due to the perilous state of the treasury.

“We have already crushed one attempt by the Duras to
take power. My husband only regrets that the man responsible was not caught.” She
looked pointedly at Vitlis Duras. The Duras clan leader returned her look
blandly. He knew that no evidence of the attempted coup pointed to him; he’d
publicly distanced himself from the antics of his nephew.

She signalled to Vosgaris, standing behind her. He
advanced and placed a pile of papers in front of her. “Here is the evidence of
treason. Here is evidence of a plot to murder my children. Here is evidence that
some of you here willing to destroy Kastania once and for all in return for
personal wealth and profit.”

She began flinging the papers across the table, the
sheets coming to rest in front of some or ending up against others. Reluctantly
the nobles took hold of the nearest sheet to them and began reading. All were
identical. They were a signed confession from Geris Fokis, detailing the money
hidden from the treasury and a list of contributors to the plot to oust the
Koros. Cledin Fokis, the member of that family at the meeting, stood up
angrily. “This is a fabrication! Lies! A scurrilous vile campaign to blacken my
family name to the advantage of the Koros!”

Isbel sat down and interlocked her fingers. “Prove it,
Cledin.”

Cledin ripped the sheet he had into two pieces. “I don’t
need to. It’s clearly an absurd piece of fiction. Who else here believes this
nonsense?” he turned to his fellow nobles.

“This isn’t proof, your majesty,” Vitlis Duras tapped
the sheet. “Without the verbal confirmation from this Geris Fokis to back this
up, there is no proof that this is indeed his confession.”

“Indeed?” Isbel smiled in a way Vitlis didn’t care for. She
nodded to Vosgaris who smiled in a predatory manner and opened the door to the
chamber and spoke to someone outside. He then shut the door and came to stand
alongside the empress. Isbel spoke again. “While we wait, I would also speak to
you of the recent failed attempts on two of our family, Jorqel and Argan. The
assailants in both instances fled and vanished, but we were fortunate in
tracing the man responsible for the attempt on my five year old son, Argan.”

Again, the nobles remained silent, waiting to hear what
was coming next. Isbel continued. “A poisonous reptile, purchased in Niake,
brought here to kill a baby. Is that what you are reduced to now? How brave of
you! The man bought off here to perform the wicked deed was paid for by an
intermediary, a native of Kastan. He was traced to the thieves guild here, and
not for the first time that guild was implicated in a plot against my family. So
Vosgaris here arrested every guild member he could and burned down the guild
headquarters with the rest inside two sevendays ago.”

“I wondered about that,” Meldres Angian commented, the
head of the Angian family. “It was blamed on a careless use of torchlight.”

“That was the rumour we wished to circulate. The end
result is that the thieves guild has ceased to exist in Kastan, and a really
thorough interrogation was carried out on the survivors. Finally it was
revealed that certain payments had been made to the guild headquarters to buy
off a guard named Harran and to smuggle in a reptile to do the wicked deed. No
records exist of course of this transaction.”

“Therefore there is no proof,” Ebril Kanzet said.

“Apart from signed confessions, no,” Isbel smiled again.
“We have the names of those responsible.”

 “And who are these, pray tell?” Cledin asked, an edge
to his voice.

“All in good time, Fokis, all in good time. What has
also come to light is the name of the person to succeed my husband as emperor. But
of course being the untrustworthy traitors you plotters are, it has also been
found that a second plot exists to quickly replace that man with another the
moment the Koros have been eliminated. It would appear, gentlemen, that there
is no honour amongst traitors.”

“You lie!” Cledin stood up angrily, his face red with
fury. “This is absolute nonsense, designed to create dissention amongst us
all!”

“Shut up, Fokis you damned fool!” Thesan Lazisk snapped,
“she’s clearly got no idea of anything and you’ve just opened your mouth too
far!”

Cledin stared at his fellow noble, then whirled in fury
on the empress who was smiling in triumph. “You whore! I’ll have you beheaded
and your head mounted on the city gates for this!”

The other nobles broke out into loud exclamations. Isbel
pointed at Cledin. “You condemn yourself, Fokis. You will be executed for
treason. Vosgaris.”

Vosgaris smiled and advanced on Cledin, who kicked his
chair out of the way and hauled out his sword. The nobles had been permitted to
bring their swords into the meeting as usual, as a mark of respect and trust
from the ruling family, as had been for centuries. Clearly it had been a risk
but Isbel hadn’t wanted to alert them that anything like this was in the
offing.

“Lackey,” the Fokis family man snarled, “I’ll chop you
to pieces, whelp! Your family are nothing but arse kissers!”

Vosgaris stood facing Cledin, both hands on the hilt of
his sword. Around the room, members of the Palace Guard were coming to life,
wielding their volgars. “Remain where you are,” Vosgaris spoke to them, “this
one’s mine!”

“Well?” Cledin swung his head and addressed the other
nobles who were still sat as if carved from stone, “are you going to act like
men or are your words of solidarity nothing but empty promises?”

“You’re a dolt, Fokis,” Thesan growled, “and if you
think you can implicate all of us in your evil scheme you’ll be disappointed.”

“Who wants the Fokis lands?” Isbel asked suddenly. “They’re
all forfeit.”

Hands shot up and nearly every noble there stood and
yelled ‘aye’. Isbel chuckled. “It seems, Fokis, your comrades and allies have
deserted you.”

“Fools!” Cledin screamed in fury, “you’ll all be destroyed
by the Koros! Act now, kill them all!”

Nobody moved. Vosgaris stepped closer. “Now, you
traitor, defend yourself before I cleave you in two.”

With a deep guttural roar of frustration and rage,
Cledin swung into the attack, swinging his sword two-handed, pounding down at
Vosgaris who blocked above his head, then to his left at neck height. Vosgaris
had to retreat under the vicious slashing, but blocked each time, using the
skills taught him as he had been growing up by his now dead tutor. Cledin was
older but not an old man, and had plenty of energy, but his anger blunted his
skill and he left too many openings in his desperation to kill the man.

Vosgaris waited, sweating with the effort of keeping his
adversary’s attacks from breaking through, and switched his weight from one
foot to the other, moving side to side and back and forth, watching how Cledin
attacked. Finally, with three items of furnishing in the room broken or chipped
and more being threatened, Vosgaris felt confident enough in bettering the man.

Suddenly he transferred his weight to his right foot and
swung back at Cledin, his blade a blur. Cledin had just completed an almighty
swipe and the blade had executed a full circle, ending up above the Fokis clan
member’s left ear. Vosgaris, with a smaller distance to cover, cut across the
chest, knowing Cledin’s weight was already on his back foot, so he couldn’t
step back any further without falling over.

Cledin cried out in terror, knowing he couldn’t get his
sword down in time. The blade cut through his rich jacket and shirt, biting
deep into his ribs and crushing two back on themselves. The blade kept on
travelling, puncturing his heart and then began to exit as Cledin’s body was
sent spinning under the force of the blow. Vosgaris executed the circle and
stood there, watching as his opponent dropped his sword, his face screwed up in
agony, clutching his chest.

The dull metallic sound of the sword striking the rug
rang through the chamber, and Fokis sank to his knees, then crashed face down
and lay still. Vosgaris stood above him, staring down at the body. “My family’s
honour is intact,” he said tonelessly. “We are not arse-kissers, Fokis.”

Isbel stood up and moved down the table on the opposite
side to that of the dead Cledin Fokis. She stopped by Ebril Kanzet. “Ebril, you
were put forward as the new emperor to succeed my husband. Do I understand you
still wish for this to be so?”

Ebril coloured and looked up at the serious face of the
empress. He was also aware of two Palace Guardsmen standing behind her, their
volgars in the ‘attack’ position. “Your majesty….”

“And you or your family was behind the attempt to burn
down the city hall. Do you wish for me to make this piece of news public?”

“Ah-uh-no, ma’am.” Ebril looked helplessly at the other members
of the nobility.

Isbel leaned closer to him, her feminine figure a little
too close to the nobleman for his comfort. She smiled at him. “I would so
dearly love to award you some Fokis land, but not if you insist on being a
candidate for the throne. I would have to add Kanzet land to the auction here
that’s going to take place shortly. Would you rather serve me as a loyal member
of my nobility?” She pressed her bosom ever so slightly against his arm.

“Shit,” Ebril muttered, his face as red as the blood
seeping from Cledin’s corpse. The expressions on the faces of Thesan Lazisk,
Meldres Angian, Vitlis Duras, Guttan Palanges and the others present were
comical. Damn this she-canine! He thought furiously. She had him by the balls
and he knew it. His family’s future was in the balance. The Fokis looked
doomed, and their lands were already being eyed up by the other families
present. Damned if the Kanzet were going to miss out on that!

“Ma’am,” he said, taking a deep breath, “the Kanzet only
wish to serve the empire faithfully. I would be – grateful – if the city hall
incident not be disclosed.”

“So will you here and now, of your own free will,
declare both verbally and in writing, in front of the nobility of Kastania,
that you have no interest in the throne?”

He pulled a face, but nodded curtly. The other nobles
looked at him with contempt. He was in essence denying himself or his
descendants a right to the imperial title. Just then the door opened and a
bruised and bloodied figure was marched in by two men, holding his arms tight
to prevent him from falling over. It was Geris Fokis.

Isbel nodded. “Here is the man who signed that
confession. Do you, Geris, swear that what you said matches with the signed
confession on the table here?”

Geris was pushed forward and made to look at one of the
sheets of paper. He read for a moment, then nodded. “I do,” he slurred, his
mouth swollen.

Isbel turned to the seated men. “Does anyone challenge
this?”

There were no voices of dissent. Isbel waved Geris out,
and he was roughly forced to leave, the two guards taking to their duties
rather enthusiastically. The empress clicked her fingers and Pepil stepped
forward, a declaration already written up for Ebril to sign. He was extremely
reluctant, but finally signed, his signature scribbled furiously and angrily.

Pepil looked smug as he took the sheet back. He would
arrange for his scribes to copy it and send it to every province of the empire
before the morning. Isbel returned to her seat, deliberately swaying her hips. She
was in control of the meeting now and these scheming, manipulating men were
dancing to her tune. She quite enjoyed the feeling. “Now,” she said calmly, her
heart beating fast inside her ribs by contrast, “I understand that you all have
been inconvenienced by the new taxation levied against your estates.” She
raised a hand to forestall the inevitable protests that were about to begin. The
men who had begun to stand stopped and slowly sat down again. “Vosgaris, get
him out of here!” he waved at the corpse of Cledin Fokis. “And get someone to
clean up the mess.”