Magician (90 page)

“This festival is being given by
the Warlord in honor of his nephew, the Emperor. He has plans for a
new major offensive the week before the games, and it is hoped he
will announce the success of the campaign.” He lowered his
voice. “It is no secret to those with access to court gossip he
is under a great deal of pressure to justify his conduct of the war
before the High Council. Rumor has it he has been forced to offer
major concessions to the Blue Wheel Party to regain their support in
the war.

“But what will make the games
unusual is that the Light of Heaven will leave his Palace of
Contemplation, breaking with ancient tradition. It would be a proper
occasion for you to make some sort of entrance into court society.”

“I’m sorry, Hocho,”
Milamber said, “I have little desire to attend any festivals. I
have been to one earlier this month, in Ontoset, as part of my
studies. The dances are boring, the food tends toward the awful, and
the wine is as flat as the speeches. The games are of less interest
still. If this is the court society you speak of, then I’ll be
fine without it.”

“Milamber, there are many holes
left in your education. Gaining the black robe did not mean instant
mastery of our craft. There is quite a bit more involved in
protecting the Empire than sitting about dreaming up new ways of
tossing energy around, or creating economic chaos with the local
moneylenders.” He took another sweet and returned to his
chiding. “There are several reasons you must come with me to
the festivities, Milamber. First, you are something of a celebrity to
the nobles of the realm, for news of your wondrous house has spread
from one corner of the Empire to the other, mostly by aid of those
young bandits you paid so well to execute the delicate paintings you
love so much. It is now considered the mark of some distinction to
have the same sort of work done.

“And this place”—his
hand inscribed an arc before them, mock wonder upon his face—“anyone
who could be so clever to design such an edifice must surely be
worthy of attention.” His mocking tone vanished as he added,
“By the way, this entire bit of nonsense has not been
diminished one whit by your mysterious isolation here in the
hinterlands. If anything, it has added to your reputation.

“Now to more important reasons
than social ones. As you no doubt know, there is growing concern that
the news from the war is somehow being downplayed. In all these years
there has been little gain, and some talk is going about that the
Emperor may take a stand against the Warlord’s policies. If so
. . .” He let the thought go unfinished.

Milamber was silent for a time. “Hocho,
I think it is time that I told you something, and if you feel it’s
sufficient to warrant my life, then you may return to the Assembly
and bring charges.”

Hochopepa was raptly attentive, all
quips and sharp remarks put aside.

“You who trained me did your work
well, for I am filled with a need to do what is best for the Empire.
I hold only a little feeling for the land of my birth anymore, and
you will never know what that signifies. But in the process of making
me what I am, you could never create the love of home within my being
that I once felt for my own Crydee. What you have created is a man
with a strong sense of duty, untempered by any love for that thing he
feels duty toward.” Hochopepa remained silent as the impact of
what Milamber had said penetrated, then he nodded as Milamber
continued.

“I may be the greatest threat to
the Empire since the Stranger invaded your skies, for if I become
involved with its politics, I will be justice without mercy.

“I have known of the factions
within the parties, the crossover of families from one party to
another, and the consequences of those acts. Do you think because I
sit atop my hill in the eastlands, I am unaware of the shifts and
stirrings of the political animals in the capital? Of course not. If
the Blue Wheel Party collapses and its members realign with the War
Party or the Imperials, every street merchant in Ontoset is
speculating on the news the next day to the marketplace. I know what
is taking place as well as any other who is not directly involved.
And in the months since I came to live here, I have come to one
conclusion: the Empire is slowly killing itself.”

The older magician said nothing for a
moment, then asked, “Have you wondered at all why our system is
such that we are killing ourselves?”

Milamber stood and paced a little. “Of
course. I am studying it, and have chosen to wait before I act. I
need more time to understand the history you taught me so well. But I
do have some speculations of sorts on what’s wrong, and they
will give me a starting point.” He inclined his head, asking if
he should go on. Hochopepa nodded that he should. “It seems to
me there are several major problems here, problems I can only guess
at in terms of impact upon the Empire.

“First”—he held up
his index finger—“those in power are more concerned with
their own grandeur than with the well-being of the Empire. And as
they are those who appear to the casual eye to be the Empire, it is
an easy thing not to notice.”

“What do you mean?” the
older magician asked.

“When you think of the Empire,
what comes to mind? A history of armies warring across the lands? Or
the rise of the Assembly? Perhaps you think of a chronicle of rulers?
Whatever it is, most likely the single most obvious truth is
overlooked. The Empire is all those who live within its borders, from
the nobles to the lowest servant, even the slaves who work the
fields. It must be seen as a whole, not as being embodied by some
small but visible part, such as the Warlord or the High Council. Do
you understand that?”

Hochopepa looked troubled. “I’m
not sure, but I think . . . Go on.”

“If that is true, then consider
the rest. Second, there must never be a time when the need for
stability overrules the need for growth.”

“But we have always grown!”
objected Hochopepa.

“Not true,” countered
Milamber. “You have always expanded, and that seems like growth
if you don’t investigate closely. But while your armies have
been bringing new lands into your borders, what has happened to your
art, your music, your literature, your research? Even the vaunted
Assembly does little more than refine that which is already known.
You implied earlier that I was wasting my time finding new ways to
‘toss energy around.’ Well, what is wrong with that?
Nothing. But there is something wrong with the type of society that
looks upon the new as suspect.

“Look around you, Hocho. Your
artists are in shock because I described what I had seen in paintings
in my youth, and a few young artists became excited. Your musicians
spend all their time learning the old songs, perfectly, to the note,
and no one composes new ones, just clever variations on melodies that
are centuries old. No one creates new epics, they only retell old
ones. Hocho, you are a people stagnating. This war is but one
example. It is unjustified, fought from habit, to keep certain groups
in power, to reap wealth for those already wealthy, and to play the
Game of the Council. And the cost! Thousands of lives are wasted each
year, the lives of those who are the Empire, its own citizens. The
Empire is a cannibal, devouring its own people.”

The older magician was disturbed by
what he heard, in total contradiction with what he believed he saw: a
vibrant, energetic, alive culture.

“Third,” said Milamber, “if
my duty is to serve the Empire, and the social order of the Empire is
responsible for its own stagnation, then it is my duty to change that
social order, even if I must destroy it.”

Now Hochopepa was shocked. Milamber’s
logic was without fault, but the suggested solution was potentially
fraught with danger to everything Hochopepa knew and revered. “I
understand what you say, Milamber, but what you speak of is too
difficult to contemplate all at once.”

Milamber’s voice took on
reassuring tones “I do not mean to imply that the destruction
of the present social order is the only solution, Hocho. I used that
to shock and to drive home a point. That is what much of my research
is about, not only the visible mastery of energy, but also
investigations into the nature of the Tsurani people and the Empire.
Believe me, I am more than willing to spend as much time on the
question as I need. I plan on spending some time in the archives.”

Hochopepa’s brows furrowed, and
he studied his younger friend’s face. “Be warned, you may
find some unsettling things in those archives. As I said, your
education is not complete.”

Milamber let his voice drop. “I
have already found some unsettling things, Hocho. Much of what is
held to be common truth by the nations is based upon falsehoods.”

Hochopepa became concerned. “There
are things that are forbidden for any but members of the Assembly to
know, Milamber, and even then it is unwise to speak about them to
even one of your brethren.” He glanced away, thinking, then
said, “Still, when you have finished prowling around in those
musty old vaults, if you need to discuss your findings, I’ll be
a willing ear.” He looked back at his friend. “I like you
and think you’re a refreshing change of pace for us, Milamber,
but there are many who would rather see you dead as not. Don’t
go chattering on to anyone but Shimone or myself about this social
research you’re doing.”

“Agreed. But when I reach a
judgment as to what must be done, I shall act.”

Hochopepa stood, an expression of
concern on his face. “It is not that I disagree with you, my
friend, it is simply that I must have time to assimilate what you
have said.”

“I could only speak the truth to
you, Hocho, no matter how disturbing.”

Hochopepa smiled. “A fact I
appreciate, Milamber. I must spend some time considering the
proposition.” Some of his usual humor crept back into his
voice. “Perhaps you will accompany me to the Assembly? You have
been absent much of the time with this house building and all; you
would do well to put in an appearance now and again.”

Milamber smiled at his friend. “Of
course.” He indicated that Hochopepa should lead the way to the
pattern. As they walked, Hochopepa said, “If you wish to study
our culture, Milamber, I still suggest you come to the Imperial
Festival. There will be more political activity in the seats of the
arena in that one day than could be observed in a month in the High
Council.”

Milamber turned toward Hochopepa.
“Perhaps you’re right I shall think about it.”

When they appeared on the pattern of
the Assembly, Shimone was standing close by. He bowed slightly in
greeting and said, “Welcome I was about to go looking for you
two.”

Hochopepa said with mild amusement,
“Are we so vital to the business of the Assembly that you must
be sent to fetch us back?”

Shimone inclined his head a little.
“Perhaps, but not today. I merely thought you would find the
business at hand interesting.”

Milamber asked, “What is
happening?”

“The Warlord has sent messages to
the Assembly, and Hodiku raises questions about them. We best hurry,
for they are nearly ready to begin.”

They walked quickly to the central hall
of the Assembly and entered. Arrayed about a large open area was an
amphitheater of open benches, they took seats in a lower row. Already
several hundred black-robed Great Ones were in place. In the center
of the floor they could see Fumita, the one-time brother of the
Shinzawai lord, standing alone, he would be presiding over the
business of the day. The presidency was allotted by chance to one of
those in attendance. Milamber had seen Fumita in the Assembly only
twice since being brought here.

Shimone said, “It has been nearly
three weeks since I saw you in the Assembly, Milamber.”

“I must apologize, but I have
been busy getting my home in order.”

“So I hear. You’re
something of a source of gossip in the imperial court. I hear the
Warlord himself is anxious to meet you.”

“Perhaps someday.”

Hochopepa said to Shimone, “Who
can understand such a man? Taking to building such a strange home.”
He turned to Milamber. “Next you’ll be telling me that
you’re taking a wife.”

Milamber laughed. “Why, Hocho,
how did you guess?”

Hochopepa’s eyes grew wide.
“You’re not! “

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Milamber, it is not a wise
course, believe me. To this day I have regretted my own marriage.”

“Hocho, I didn’t know you
were a married man.”

“I choose not to speak of it
much. My wife is a fine woman, though given to an overly sharp tongue
and scathing wit. In my own home I’m not much more than another
servant to be ordered about. That is why I see her only on prescribed
holidays, it would be bad for my nerves to see her more often.”

Shimone said, “Who is your
intended, Milamber? A noble daughter?”

“No. She was a slave with me at
the Shinzawai estate.”

Hochopepa mused, “A slave girl .
. . hmm. That might work out.”

Milamber laughed, and Shimone chuckled.
Several other magicians regarded them with curiosity, for the
Assembly was not a regular forum for mirth.

Fumita held up his hand, and the
Assembly became quiet. “Today there is a matter being brought
before the Assembly by Hodiku.”

A thin Great One, with shaved head and
hooked nose, walked from his seat in front of Milamber and Hochopepa
to the center of the floor.

He surveyed the magicians in the hall,
then spoke. “I come today so that I may speak about the
Empire.” It was the formal opening of any business brought
before the Assembly. “I speak for the good of the Empire,”
he added, completing the ritual. “I am concerned about the
demand made today by the Warlord for aid so he may broaden the war
against the Midkemian world.”