Empire of Avarice (64 page)

“Never,” Fokis stood up again, straightening his attire.
“You may browbeat and fool others into going along with your power-crazed
schemes, but I refuse to bow to you. You’re a vulgar, boorish upstart from
Bragal and I’ll never accept any soldier as emperor.”

“Then, Fokis, you condemn yourself. You may leave this
palace but never return unless you are ready to give me fealty. Your estates
have been sequestered. Your possessions belong to the imperial treasury. Your
titles have been revoked. Haven’t you learned yet from your past experiences in
dealing with us?”

Fokis sneered. “I’ll not rest until you are destroyed. I’ve
taken everything of value from my estates. Send your canines to my houses but
you’ll find nothing there of any use.”

Lord Duras stood, too. “My son will be instructed to put
Makenia to the sword. You’ll lose what puny support you have once all see how
feeble your rule is. Then we shall put an emperor of our choice on the throne. Enjoy
your last few sevendays as emperor, Koros. You may try to seize my estates,
too, but you’ll find nothing of value there. I have anticipated your actions
and taken everything. With our estates vacant, who is going to raise the
revenues you’re losing from them? It only takes a few more of us here to refuse
to hand over revenues from our estates to the treasury, and you’re back to
where you were three years ago. We can bring you to your financial knees within
a very short time indeed.”

Astiras laughed. “With our lands full to bursting point
with nobility displaced from those regions lost to foreign powers? I’ll merely
allocate your estates to them.” He looked at Lord Pelgion. “You may have the
pick of the Duras estates.” He looked to his right where Vosgaris’ father sat. “Lord
Taboz, I’m sure there’s an estate in Frasia that belongs to the Duras you could
have.”

Both nobles looked pleased. They locked eyes and nodded.
Their vote was clearly decided. Other nobles tried to catch the emperor’s
attention. Astiras waved at Frendicus. “My tax collector will have a list of
the Duras lands on him. See him after the meeting in his office. I authorise
each of you to take one, and I mean one, parcel of the Duras estate.”

Duras looked furious and joined Fokis in walking out,
and after a pause, Kanzet followed them. Nobody else got up.

“Well, gentlemen,” Astiras said lightly, “shall we vote?
Do I hear any opposition to the treaty as proposed by the Tybar?”

There were no voices of opposition. Astiras beamed and
sat down. “Then it is agreed. Thank you, gentlemen. We shall convene a proper
Council in a sevenday’s time to agree the funding for the coming year. Thank
you for attending at such short notice.”

The meeting broke up. Argan looked at the departing men
and wondered whether he should also get up. His father looked down at him. “Argan,
you now see the trouble I have to deal with. Those people who were arguing with
me – they will cause us all trouble for many years. It may be you will one day
have to go to fight them or their sons.”

“Why, father? Why don’t they do what you want them to
do?”

Astrias leaned back in his chair and thought for a
moment. How to put his words into a form the seven-year-old would understand? Isbel
looked over his shoulder, waiting for what her husband would say. The emperor
smiled at his son. “Argan, just because I’m emperor, it doesn’t mean everyone
will do as I ask or tell them. The same with you; as a prince you would expect
people to do as you say, but it doesn’t always turn out like that.”

“Why, father?”

“Because everybody wants something and it doesn’t always
match what you want. When it is different people start arguing. You can only
win an argument if what you say is sensible and you make the other person see
that it is the best, or you force them to do what you want. Remember, Argan, if
you force someone to do as you wish and they don’t really want to do it, they
won’t like you. That is what has happened with those three families. The Fokis,
the Duras and the Kanzet. They do not like what I have done since becoming
emperor.”

“Have you hurt them?”

“Sometimes, yes. I haven’t hurt them by hitting them;
I’ve hurt their feelings. You know when someone calls you a name?”

Argan nodded.

“Well, remember how that feels? That’s when your
feelings are hurt.”

“You called them names?”

Astiras chuckled, and Isbel smiled. “Not really, Argan. I
took away their wealth and lands. That hurt them a lot. They were damaging the
empire by taking the money that should have gone to other people. We couldn’t
pay for a big army to stop our enemies winning battles. So they hate me and all
of my family, including you. They want to get rid of us. But I stopped them.”

“Was that why they were shouting a lot?”

“Yes, it was their anger and knowing that they couldn’t
have their way. So now they have gone to try to get an army to fight us.”

Argan sucked in his breath. “Oh, are they going to fight
you in battle? You’ll beat them, won’t you, father?”

Astrias grinned and ruffled Argan’s hair. “Not yet; I
have a war to win in Bragal first, and I’m going back next sevenday. I have to
finish that first, but I’ll see if the other nobles can help. We need them. Remember
that, Argan; you won’t be able to run an empire alone. It needs help.”

Astiras got up and picked Argan out of his chair and
popped him down onto the floor. Argan smiled, liking the physical contact with
his father, and hugged his waist. Astrias put one arm round his son and held
him against his leg for a moment. “Now you go and remember what you saw and
heard today.”

“Yes father.” Argan hugged his mother before bounding up
the four steps towards the door. Vosgaris was waiting at the top.

Astrias nodded towards him. “Close the door behind you,
Captain. Nobody is to enter without my express permission.”

“Sire,” Vosgaris saluted and ushered Argan out, shutting
the door firmly. He looked at the two guards stood there. “No entry, lads. The
emperor has that look in his eye again.”

The two guards smirked and exchanged knowing glances.

Isbel faced her husband. “And what now, Astiras Koros?”

Astiras eyed his wife up and down. “Now – I’m going to
ravage you.”

“I have an appointment this afternoon!”

“So have I, but that can wait.”

Isbel went to protest but Astrias clamped his mouth on
hers and pushed her down onto the table. Isbel struggled for a moment, then
knew it was futile. He was much stronger than her and anyway, his hands were
beginning to excite her. She slipped her arms round his neck and forgot about
whatever appointment it was she was supposed to go to. What was it? She
couldn’t recall and anyway, it would be dull and boring – whereas Astrias was
anything but that. She pulled him down onto her and he growled in appreciation
and began divesting himself of his clothing.

At least the map was being used for something good.

Evas Extonos called a meeting in his office one morning.
Demtro and High Priest Burnas had been summoned. Each was surprised at the
summons, but both attended. They sat warily in the chairs that had been
provided, and waited for the governor to begin.

Evas cleared his throat and interlocked his fingers. “I
have received a very lengthy communication from the emperor,” he began. “It has
given me very detailed instructions as to what is happening throughout the
empire and what my role is to be in the coming year. I must admit it came as a
surprise since Kastan City rarely has bothered in the past with this sort of
thing. At least in my experience, anyway.”

“The Koros aren’t like past regimes, Governor,” Demtro
said softly, “I keep on telling you that.”

“Yes, yes, so you do,” Extonos said wearily. He looked
at the High Priest. “I also am frequently brow-beaten by you, High Priest,
about my lack of resolve to fund the rebuilding of the temples in Niake.”

Burnas stirred. “Yes! How long must it be before you see
the wisdom of doing so?”

Extonos pushed a papyrus bundle forward, sealed with the
imperial symbol, across the desk. “Take it, High Priest.”

Burnas stared at it with some trepidation, as if it were
a set of heretical statements by everyone in Niake, but slowly picked it up. The
feel of coins was unmistakable. There was also a parchment inside, judging by
the feel of it. Burnas felt his stomach turn over. “Funding?”

Extonos nodded. “I applied to the imperial treasury on
your behalf last year. Once the completion of the official merchant’s grain
exchange was nearing, I looked for the next project and decided that your
arguments had to be addressed. Funding from Kastan City to rebuild any temple
of your choice. It will be the official temple, and prayers must be said there
each day for the Koros.”

Burnas looked at Extonos for a moment, then bent his
head as he feverishly opened the package. A bag of coins rested within, and
indeed a parchment. He opened the neck of the bag and looked in. Gold furims
glittered. He sucked in his breath. The gods had answered his prayers! He slowly
opened the parchment, noting the official seal, and read the words. The
imperial treasury confirmed the funding and stated how much had been set aside.
A total of 400 furims would be coming his way, and the fifty he held was an
advance. Each four sevendays another fifty would arrive until all 400 had been
passed to him. “The gods be praised,” Burnas breathed. “At last. Now the people
of Niake will be able to pray properly to the gods and see that their emperor
does indeed believe.”

Extonos smiled faintly. “And the prayers?”

“Yes, yes, it shall be done, but one small official
temple will not suffice for long. The small places of worship we’ve been able
to build recently are ill equipped to deal with the demands of the populace. The
priesthood will need to grow and reach all of Bathenia. Too much has been
allowed to wither, Governor.”

“In time, High Priest, in time. Now, I don’t think I
need detain you here any longer. You have work to do. My offices have work
foremen who can arrange the labour force necessary to build your temple.”

“Yes, yes. Thank you. Please pass my gratitude to the
emperor.”

Evas inclined his head and the High Priest left,
mumbling his thanks to the gods that at last his entreaties had brought forth
results. Demtro smiled sardonically. “You’ve made his day, Governor. Perhaps
for a while the anti-Koros tone of his speeches may go?”

“We can but hope, merchant. Now to other matters. I
trust you were satisfied at the burning down of the ‘Black Rodent’?”

“Indeed,” Demtro nodded. It had brought the result he’d
hoped for. His mind took him back a couple of sevendays to the night the tavern
had been scheduled to burn. One of Evas’ men had gone inside incognito and set
fire to the ground floor at the rear before escaping. The building, being old
and ramshackle, had gone up like a beacon. More of Evas’ men had been on hand –
miraculously – to raise the alarm and drag the people out before anyone had
been burned.

Demtro had appeared and ploughed into the smoking tavern
and gone up the stairs two at a time, pushing past a few of the panic-stricken
patrons trying to flee. One he’d had to smack in the face to get past. He’d
barrelled to Clora’s ‘working room’ and almost taken the door off its hinges,
coughing at the smoke. The room hadn’t yet been affected much and Clora and a
client had been too busy together to really notice the shouts and smells, but
they quickly got off the bed and hauled their clothes on once the seriousness
of the situation became clear. The client had fled, his shirt still in his
hand, while Clora was hindered by her dress, having to button up the one-piece
outfit she’d got whilst at Demtro’s, and asking why Demtro was there.

“Later,” Demtro had snapped, putting a wormspun scarf
over his mouth as the smoke began billowing into the room. “The place is going
up! C’mon, let’s get out of here!”

Stunned and confused, Clora had meekly allowed herself
to be taken by the hand and dragged along the smoky passageway and down the
stairs. Most of the others had gone by now and the flames were spreading up
into the roof. Once they got up there the building would turn into a huge pyre
in no time. Clora coughed and bent over, unable to go any further, and Demtro
had picked her up and carried her out over his shoulder.

As he had emerged into the clear night air with relief,
the captain of the guard had caught his eyes and Demtro had nodded once. The
captain had grinned, having been in on the real reason why the tavern had been
targeted for destruction, but he was glad anyway, having got fed up with the
activities of the undesirables of Niake. He’d taken the opportunity to arrest
known felons as they had staggered out of the building. Too many times the
criminals had melted away via the back or side doors or taken refuge in the
tavern’s many secret hiding places to avoid arrest. Not now. They had little
chance of scuttling into the nearest lair.

Sword-bearing imperial soldiers had pinned the men they
were after against the walls of the houses opposite and identifying who was who
and what they were wanted for. The city jail would be full to bursting that
night.

Demtro had taken Clora to a nearby drinking fountain and
set her down, wetting a cloth and wiping her smoke-blackened face. After a few
moments she had come round, her eyes wide and alarmed. “What – where am I?”

“Safe,” Demtro had assured her. “The Black Rodent has
burned down.”

“Oh!” Clora had looked lost. “My home! My livelihood! All
gone!”

Demtro had shrugged. “At least you’re alive, Clora. Maybe
a chance to rebuild your life? Anyway I saved you from being burned in there. Lucky
I was close by. Saw it going up and followed the city guard. I thought of you
and got in there just in time.”

Clora had looked up at him, tears welling up in her
eyes. “But I’ve nowhere to go, Demtro!”

Demtro had stood up. “How could anyone turn you away,
Clora? You’re beautiful. You’ll be fine.” He had then turned away to walk home,
whistling a tune. His ears though were pricked to listen for any sound from
behind, and sure enough he had heard the patter of small feet chasing him. “Demtro!”
Clora had said in a sobbing voice. “Wait!”

The merchant had turned and looked at her, his eyebrows
raised. “Yes?”

“Please – take me back!”

Demtro had spread his hands wide. “But you don’t want to
work for me, and I accept that. I’m not going to force you to come back against
your will, Clora.”

“Please! I’m-I’m sorry – I will work for you – please!”

Demtro had paused, as if weighing up the merits, and
Clora had actually gone down on her knees and sobbed at his feet. Demtro had
decided enough was enough at being a manipulating beast, and had picked her up.
“Alright, Clora, I’ll take you back – but no more of your tantrums and saying
you’ll not do this or that. That’s my final offer.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll do anything you ask – just please take
me back!” Clora’s face had been wet with tears.

Demtro had gently wiped them away and taken her under
his arm. He’d started walking back towards his home. “Now, less of the tears,
young lady, I think you need a nice warm bed and hot cup of klee. You’ve had a
nasty shock and Demtro knows the perfect cure for that. What say you?”

Clora had nodded vigorously and huddled in under his
arm, just glad to have a guardian and roof over her head.

Demtro’s mind brought him back to the present. He was
content. The girl was once again settled in his home and keeping him happy at
nights. Some of that had been down to Clora’s gratitude in saving her life and
taking her back, and some down to Demtro giving her some more tuition in
pleasuring people. “Did you unearth some of the enemies of the Empire?”

Evas nodded. “Amongst some of the worst criminals in
Niake. The militia is overjoyed at having these felons in their hands at last. Your
tip-off appears to have been on the money, to borrow a phrase you merchants are
fond of using.”

“Very good, Governor. So, I trust that you will remember
that and grant me the first concession on the trade agreements coming from the
Tybar lands in the near future.”

Evas sighed and nodded. “Presumably the trade agreement
will be signed shortly.”

“It has been. I learned yesterday that it was signed in
Kastan city. You’ll be getting the official version tomorrow, when the imperial
courier arrives from Aconia.”

The governor gave Demtro a long look, then grunted. “I
must admit to be irritated that you know so much before I do, Demtro. But I’ve
come to learn that you’re invariably correct, no matter how outrageous your
points appear at first. Two of those we took into custody worked for Lombert
Soul and from what my interrogators have managed to extract from them, I am led
to believe this Lombert is preparing to cut Niake off from the rest of
Kastania. He’s training up a small army, similar to the Duras army in Makenia. I
don’t think they’re in collusion but one can never be sure. So, we have no
forces here able to confront this man in battle, but Prince Jorqel and his Army
of the West in Lodria could take him on. I’ve sent a message north by sea – I
don’t trust the overland route at present – to Efsia and I hope the prince is
able to come to our aid.”

“That will be to all our profit,” Demtro commented,
leaning back comfortably. “The prince will need to show the people here the
strength of the Koros, and the new regime’s commitment to protecting the
Kastanian people. Nothing helps like confidence in the ruling dynasty.”

Evas agreed. “Once this matter with Lombert Soul is
finished, we must look to the borderlands and into the interior. I’m concerned
that the Tybar may one day move on us. I’m going to ask for more troops to be
able to patrol the roads and valleys of Bathenia. The few units here in Niake
aren’t sufficient, you know.”

“Yes I do know that, Governor, but don’t expect any more
troops any time soon. The Koros have to pacify Bragal, deal with the Duras,
Lombert Soul, and find men to keep the roads of the empire clear. They have
just enough to hold onto what they have and garrison the towns and cities. I
think you’ll be met with a rebuttal, Governor.”

“As a frontier province we must take priority.”

“What province of Kastania isn’t a frontier province
these days, Governor?” Demtro spread his hands wide. “Once, back in the past,
many were far from the borders of neighbouring kingdoms, but now every province
borders a foreign state. Bathenia is no different to Makenia, or Pelponia.”

Evas digested that. He clearly had something else on his
mind. Demtro wasn’t a fool and waited for a few moments, but realised Evas
hadn’t the courage to broach the subject first. Demtro cleared his throat. “Something
bothering you, Governor? Something delicate?”

The governor looked up from under his eyebrows. “Do you
think the rebellion under this Lombert Soul has any chance of success? What if
he defeats Prince Jorqel in battle? That would leave the entire west open
without any defences apart from the garrison here.”

“Let me get this right, Governor,” Demtro got to his
feet and paced back and forth in front of the seated Evas Extonos. “You’re
entertaining thoughts of siding with whoever wins the battle between the prince
and this Soul fellow, but wonder whether the Koros have the muscle to come over
from Kastan to sort out whatever mess that may befall us here should Soul win? And,
if so, what would happen to you who threw his lot in with the rebels?”

Evas sat up straight, a shocked expression on his face. “Demtro!
How could you think such a treasonous thing?”

“Quite easily, Governor. You’re a weathervane; as
trustworthy as a slitherer. You’re well known for changing course when any
storm blows your way. The Koros can only count on you for as long as militarily
they hold the upper hand. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Tybar capture Niake
that you’d convert to Lamke and become as Tybar as any Tybar. You might even
change your name to suit them.”

Extonos was lost for words. He opened and closed his
mouth soundlessly. The guards remained still but their eyes were looking at
Demtro in surprise.

Demtro leaned on the wall next to the window and looked
out over the city square. “Would the prince lose to Lombert Soul? I doubt it;
he’s got the Western Army with him. They’d kick Soul and his army over the
mountains. They’re the best we’ve got. They hammered the Fokis army up in
Slenna, didn’t they? If I were you I’d worry about keeping on the Koros’ side. Show
signs of wavering and they’ll replace you. I know you’re an associate of the emperor
going way back but he can’t afford to stoop to cronyism, especially as he’s
publicly against it. If a friend of his is no good for the job he’s in, then
he’ll be out in no time. Your trouble, Governor, is that you’ve become too used
to being a fence-sitter. The fence is wobbling a bit and you’re losing balance.
Jump down on the right side. You may have to jump soon anyway. I suspect the
prince will call upon your troops to supplement his force to be certain of
victory. Refuse, and once Jorqel destroys the rebels, he’ll be coming here for
you with a serious matter to discuss. You want that?”