Last Knight (The Champion Chronicles Book 2) (30 page)

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.  They were men, not animals.  But the empire didn’t care about them, only about their ability to fight.  As the anger rose, he began to think about his own battle with the Sak’hurai and then he thought about Master Goshin.

He had no memory of what happened after being with him and Prince Tarcious.  He had ended up here, but what happened to Master Goshin?  Was he dead, or was he just back in his cell, rotting away in darkness and silence?  He would have to figure out a way to find him and break him out of his cell.  But the biggest problem with that was that he had no idea where the cell was.  He thought he remembered how Prince Tarcious had taken them down from his chamber, but that would mean he would have to get into the palace.  He vowed not to leave without Master Goshin, but it would be a tall order.  He owed the old Hurai so much, it was the least that he could do to try and free him.

              But before he could help Master Goshin escape, and before he could escape himself, he would have to face the Sak’hurai.  It scared him and excited him at the same time.  Master Goshin had talked so much about being a Sak’hurai that he could easily imagine being one.  But he knew he wasn’t and he knew he could never be.  He knew how good he was with the sword, and he knew how good a Sak’hurai could be because he had sparred with Master Goshin so many times.  He had never beaten him, but he knew he could.  He would just have to be patient and not let himself get caught in the traps that a master swordsmen woiuld lay down.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head as Master Goshin had taught him.  He spoke in his mind to the One God.  It felt odd to him, to speak to a being that he wasn’t sure even existed.  But Master Goshin was sure, and that was good enough for him.  As he sat on his bunk, his head bowed, he felt something.  He opened his eyes to the low light given off by the single oil lamp several cells away.  There was no one there, but he still felt the presence.  A tingling sensation swept over him and he shivered.

Then just as quickly as it had come, it left.  And he knew he was alone once again.

Chapter Twenty Two
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It’s been called the War Chamber for as long as anyone can remember, but it hadn’t always been the meeting place of the empire’s military leaders.  The foundation and walls were original construction from when Tara City was hardly more than a collection of straw huts and leather hide tents.  When it had been constructed, it was not meant to be a single chamber, but a palace keep that would house the imperial family.  Over time, the small interior rooms had been expanded so the building was a single large chamber.  To keep the roof from caving in, square columns had been erected and great crossbeams hand been hauled through the Gulf of Taran from the forests of Karmon.  It was against one of these columns that Prince Tarcious leaned.

              There was a long table in the center of the room constructed from great oak trees also from the forests of Karmon.  It was ironic, he thought, as he looked from the great oaken table to the beams above him, that the small kingdom of Karmon had imprinted itself upon the empire in many tiny ways.  It was a tiny thorn in his side, and soon he would pluck out that thorn and crush it.  An unusual smile fell across his face as he realized that the table and the beams would outlast that pesky little kingdom.  Someday, the only memento of that kingdom would be housed in the chamber where her destruction was planned.

              Around the table sat his generals.  Two had just arrived from the north, having been summoned from their war against the barbarians.  They were dirty and tired, and their sour faces showed that they were not happy to be so far away from their troops.  Three others were commanders of various other forces near the capital city.  Their faces were sour for having been awakened from their warm beds so early in the morning.  The newest member of his war council, Admiral Karn, had recently been promoted after the demise of his predecessor, Admiral Hester.  He was fidgeting in his seat, nervous and fearful at his new position.  It was well known that it was not the emperor who ran things, but Prince Tarcious.  And unlike Emperor Hargon, Prince Tarcious was not known as a friendly or compassionate man.

              They filled only a quarter of the table.  Some emperors had forty or more in their war council.  The fights from those days were legendary.  As were the resulting makeup feasts.  When the empire was expanding, many generals were needed to keep the army moving.  But as the expanse of the empire slowed because there was no more land to expand into, both the army and the number of its leaders declined.  The prince would have liked to have only one or two generals on his war council as he found even the five of them a bit top heavy.  The more voices that were there to speak, the more ideas were presented.  And the prince only cared about one.  His.

              Many times the war council started with a feast where both food and drink flowed freely.  It would only be after many hours of boisterous merrymaking that any actual work would get done.  But the prince did not care for that carefree behavior.  Many bad decisions in the history of the empire had been wrought from those councils where overzealous generals planned impossible campaigns against unbeatable foes.

              In fact, the entire campaign against the barbarians had begun when the two most powerful generals of the time bragged about their accomplishments and an argument ensued about who was the better general.  When neither would admit the other was better, a wager was made on who could conquer the most land in the north.  Two armies marched north to conquer a people that were not yet enemies of the empire.  But their aggression backfired and soon the empire was mired in a war that has been lasting for hundreds of years.  And each general in succession would not retreat from their advances, regardless of how many centurions lost their lives each year.

              Prince Tarcious watched while his generals greeted one another and shared some idle chatter.  Some were friends, some were adversaries, but they all shared the common thread of being battle-hardened veterans.  There was no alcohol to fuel their boasting, as the prince was determined to have lucid conversations.  Their chatter were somewhat subdued with some laughter mixed in.  They all seemed to sense some sort of tension, but no one spoke of it.

              After some time, the prince stepped forward and cleared his throat.  “It is time to begin the council.”

              General Overmire was the oldest of them.  He had served in the army for almost forty years.  First as a young boy on the front lines of the wars in the north, and finally as the leader of the Western Army.  The Western Army was one of the two armies that were fighting the barbarians.  The Eastern Army was the other.  Both worked together to fight the war, but each was also in competition with the other, as had been the case since the war started.

              General Overmire stood slowly, his body not as nimble as it once was.  He was a large man with a gut that stuck out farther than his chest.  He had long since given up trying to ride horses, so he fought his battles from a chariot.  “It is most unusual for the War Council to be missing its most prominent member.”  His eyes narrowed and dug deep into the heart of Prince Tarcious, seeking for a reaction that would answer the rumors that he had heard.

              Prince Tarcious had been expecting this.  General Overmire had always been a good friend of Emperor Hargon.  He smiled as friendly as he could.  “The emperor, as you know, has fallen ill and has yet to recover.  He remains alive, but his mind is not lucid.”

              “No doubt of your making,” General Overmire growled.  He glanced down at the rest of the council, hoping someone would stand with him.  None moved.  Only Admiral Karn met his gaze, but he looked away after only a moment.  “Cowards.  All of you.  You sit there and listen to the vile words of the man who has taken the throne of your emperor?”

              General Darmere, the head of the Eastern Army, looked up and said, “Again, do you have proof of your accusations?  We have been through this many times.  Prince Tarcious has done nothing to deserve your wrath.  He has filled in only when necessary, to keep the empire running smoothly.  He has not replaced any of the regional governors, or replaced any of us.  If he were planning a coup, the first thing he would do is to change leadership.  Is that not right, Prince Tarcious?”

              “Of course,” the prince said.  “It is a well-worn formula through the history of the empire.  Any coup would fail without a change in leadership.  I am not asking to take my brother’s throne, only to fill in as necessary, as General Darmere indicated.  If I were to take over for my brother, the first thing I would do would be to execute all of you.  And General Overmire, you would be first.  You are the eldest and most respected.  You execution would ensure that the army would fall in line.  It would be very easy to find a replacement.  A hand-picked replacement to do my bidding.”

              General Overmire sat down, but a scowl stayed on his face.

              “How goes the war, General Overmire?” the prince asked.

              “You know how it goes,” the general growled back. “Same as always.  We fight.  We kill.  But there are more of them than us, so we can never gain any ground”

              “General Darmere, how about from the east?  How goes the war?”

              “It has been two months since our last battle.  That one was a stalemate where we could not march any farther past the Rike River.  We hold our side of the river, but they hold theirs.  We are bunking down for the winter and will try another assault come springtime.”

              “Yes, of course,” the prince said, shaking his head.  “The war goes badly and you continue to lose.  For how many years have we been losing this war?”

              “Two hundred and eighty-three years,” General Overmire replied.  “And we aren’t losing.”

              “But are you winning it?” the prince asked.

              General Overmire looked away, refusing to match the prince’s gaze.

              “It is time for a new front.  A new war.  It is time to leave the battlefields of the north.”

              The announcement stunned the council.  All nine pairs of eyes looked up at the prince, their mouths unable to form words.

              “I see for once I have shocked you into silence.”

              “You cannot just abandon the north!”  General Overmire looked around at his compatriots.  “The battles that our centurions fight to the north keep the barbarians from coming south!  If we were to leave the northern front, then our cities and villages on the northern plains would be open for attack!”

              The prince turned to another general, a younger one would have never led any men into battle.  General Mace had been promoted through the ranks of the army mostly because of his pedigree.  Both his father and grandfather had been generals in the army.  “What say you, General Mace?”

              General Mace glanced around nervously.  Although he had no practical battlefield knowledge, he had a mind for strategical situations.  “With winter having already come to the north, there is not any fighting going on.  If we retreated, the barbarian tribes might not even know until spring.  If we garrisoned the army throughout the towns and villages that should be enough to protect them.”

              “But if we left the front, the barbarians would counterattack,” General Overmire retorted.  “Maybe even in the middle of winter.  If they did so, and they concentrated their attacks on a single garrison, then they would pour through and there would be nothing to stop them until they reached Tara City!”

              “No,” General Mace said with some conviction.  “We have a stalemate with them because they are entrenched and have numbers.  Once they got out in the open, we would slaughter them.  We could not leave our towns and villages unprotected, though.  They would be open to attack.  But not in an all-out war.”

              Prince Tarcious turned to General Darmere.  “General Darmere, what do you think?”

              General Darmere rubbed his chin for a few moments.  “Once they see a weakness, they will attack.  They are savages.  They breed like pigs and grow to be as strong as an ox.  But I can see merits of General Mace’s plan.  If done right, then it may work.”

              “This is just like you, Darmere,” General Overmire spat.  “You have been looking to give up the fight ever since you were first handed the job!”

A shouting match ensued where both generals traded barbs and insults.  Prince Tarcious stood back, waiting patiently.  As their voices raised from shouting to screaming, the other generals had to step in to keep the two from coming to blows.

As General Overmire was straining to break free from the grasp of two other generals and Admiral Karn, Prince Tarcious stepped forward, words of a spell beginning to form on his lips.  An electricity filled the air that no one noticed because they were too busy being engaged in fight.  As the last word fell off his lips, Prince Tarcious shot his hand out from his side and pointed it straight at the body of the General Overmire.  There was not a fireball with this spell, but it had the same force.  It struck the general directly in the chest, sending him backwards across the room.  The two generals that were holding him back were thrown back as well, but not as far, and not with as much force.  Admiral Karn only felt a glancing blow and he stumbled backwards.  But General Overmire was cast all the way across the room and struck the far wall with a solid thud and a sharp crack.

The prince had not intended to kill the man, at least not yet.  But based on the odd angle that General Overmire’s head hung, it was clear that he was not going to move again.

Silence hung over the room.  All eyes were on the dead general, and then they turned towards Prince Tarcious.

“General Overmire’s service to the empire is no longer necessary,” Prince Tarcious said.  “It is with regret that I must accept the general’s resignation, but he had outlived his usefulness anyway.  Who else among you would like to resign their post?  I am looking for loyal military leaders who will do my bidding.”

“Your bidding?” General Darmere asked.  “Is your brother still not the emperor?”

Prince Tarcious quickly whispered the words of another spell and sent a small ball of fire into the chest of the General Darmere.  He tumbled backwards, dead before he came to a sliding stop.

“I accept your resignation,” the prince said.  He turned to the others.  “Any more questions?”

All remained silent.  “General Mace, you will see to it that the armies of the north are returned back to the city.  You are to garrison cities and villages as you see fit.  Once the army has returned, they will join with the rest of the standing army to march to the east.  Yes, to the east.  We are to conquer Karmon.  They are a threat to our existence, and they must be destroyed.”

The prince turned to leave, but then stopped himself.  “Your loyalties to the empire will be well rewarded.  And your disloyalty will be dealt with swiftly.  I will not tolerate any disloyalty towards the empire.  Or myself.  Have I made myself clear?”

The room remained silent for an uncomfortably long time.  Eventually, General Mace spoke up and said, “Of course, Your Imperial Highness.”

“See to it that those under you also are loyal to the empire and myself.  Justice will be swift and severe.  In six weeks’ time, the army is to be encamped outside of the city of South Karmon.  If that is not the case, then I will find generals who will be able to accomplish my orders.”