The Undying Emperor [Grand Conquest Fantasy]

I was in a wretched state when I finally returned to the capital. I must have frightened as many people to death as I actually killed, which sounds worse than it was. My horses despised me, not just for the inhuman stench but because I never let them rest in a stable. I had little choice in the matter, I couldn't stay in an inn. The lower half of my body was a monstrosity I could hardly move. I kept it under blankets through the belly of a cart.

Some time had passed since the Aillish raid, and I wasn't entirely certain of the date until much later. When haranguing a stableboy to bring feedbags to a cart that isn't intending to stay the night, even when the sun has already set, there's little hope of further inquiry. The wastelanders kept a diminished camp outside of the city, which was no longer fit to besiege it. A full third of the city guard resigned their posts and bodies were needed to secure the roads and protect the exuberant couriers that still sprang about the countryside bringing the good news that the king had been brought to justice, or at least that he would be soon.

I had witnessed several sham elections during my journey south and there are few firmer nails in the coffin of democracy than watching a village debate who should represent them. For those readers who have never left a city, it's decided by the women and from behind their husbands. They tut and titter and watch like vultures to find the youths with minds of their own so that later they can be singled out and brought to heel. Overwhelmingly, the only decision is whether the representative will be the same man that has always represented the village, or if he is too old for the journey and must appoint a successor. Some try to debate ideas, but whoever takes on the burden does so with no opinions of their own lest he come back and find himself an outcast in his own home.

This kingdom-wide commotion, during harvest season no less, was no quick affair and the government had to be run. This gave Feugard several weeks to sink his roots into everything. Those he had already bought off, monetarily seduced, or otherwise allied with acted as the point of a wedge for him, but the sprawl of his network kept it fragile. In many ways, he faced the same issues that the king had faced, but now it was known that the royal treasury was empty.

Hungry jackals would be forced to descend upon the decapitated houses of nobility.

Even with the tumult, it was unlikely I would be able to get inside the city without an inspection, so I steered my cart to the wastelander fort. The pale-skinned guards recognized me in essence if not in person, for I was much the same as Anubi despite my injuries. I doubt they recalled me from our encounter in the south, but I was brought within their little palisade nonetheless.

Word of my arrival was spread and, to my surprise, Lupa confronted me. A minor illusion had allowed me to clamber down from the cart and into an unused tent where I collapsed. The blonde wastelander had a gaze of embers for me as she stood just within the flap. "Where is the boy?" I asked, wetting my throat with a wineskin.

"Court," she answered. "You killed the angel."

I grinned. "Not without cost."

She clicked her tongue and scowled. "Did everything go according to your plan?"

"That's what I should be asking. Who sits upon the throne?"

"Nobody. It's vacant, in the palace courtyard accumulating pigeon shit. Fredrich is in chains. Kassandra is missing, and Gabriel has all the money."

I scoffed. "Money is no thing. We will fabricate what we need. What of the boy's reputation?"

"The hero of the realm, the bringer of peace, the harbinger of retribution against Aillesterra."

That soured my mood even worse. I would have preferred time to prepare. Years even. The raid would force our hand and give us but a single winter season to levy an army and march. It would be hard work making the preparations while also rectifying my body, but I knew it could be done. "Then why do you look so angry? Did he toss you out of his bed? From what you're saying, the boy is the most influential man in the kingdom!"

She drew her blade, a Giordanan style dagger and crouched before my decrepit form. "You're injured aren't you. I wonder, if I can eat stigmata, could I eat one of your spells? The world would be a less bloody place without you in it, wizard."

I met her gaze, fingers tightening around the neck of my wineskin. Injured I was, but she was a mere girl. "There is always war and death. The only question is who and where. My promise to you is that you will be on the winning side. Why are you acting like this? Did we lose somebody?"

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"The graveyards are overflowing with death. This is a civilized kingdom, Amurabi. They don't eat their dead, they weep for them. Thousands of people, old and young, have died because of a war you put in motion and the result? Another war has been forced. Thousands more will die. Even if I slit your throat right now and ate your heart, these wars would still happen. Drachenreach has gathered an army of golems. Did you hear about that? Stone giants that will march on the command of Aurum because you killed his brother. And now, you've killed Acheliah."

"In Skaldheim," I said, baring my teeth at the impudent child before me. "The northerners will be afraid to break the truce lest they take the blame for the angel's death. I staved off that war!"

"You postponed it," she said, pressing the point of her dagger against the limp wineskin in my grasp. "When you could have prevented all of this. Isn't that true?"

"And a slave can save himself the whip if all he does is obey." Wine was dribbling down my old fingers, but I no longer felt the touch of thirst. Though it hurt, I asserted my will against the half-living carcass of a demon that constituted my lower body. I threw off the cloth that hid the stitched together mass of limbs and loomed over her. "You, Lupa, should know better than any Vassish what it is to live as a slave of a greater being. You were given enough spark and will to feel that there was something more than bowing down to a being you could not understand. Lucius brought you from the desert, I brought you from the desert! All that is your life you owe to him, and through him you owe to me. Do not talk to me about what is right and wrong when you have not walked the abyss and stared death in the eyes, you who know only the warmth of a sun you did nothing to deserve. The mighty cannot be reached without the blood of the lesser and I will not accept living on my knees in a kingdom that was bequeathed to me! This world is mine by right!"

She dared to laugh at me. In hindsight, it was foolish to give credence to her prodding. She wasn't worth the effort of killing while I was in that state. "You can't seize the world, not like Lucius can. He'll visit you in his own time, wizard. I wonder what he'll ask you. Or do you plan to merely order him about?"

"I will do what I always have. I will counsel him. I will arm him with the knowledge necessary to ascend. Given the Aillish incursion, that is likely to be very little, which will give me time to correct the sorry state of affairs this kingdom calls an economy."

She sheathed her dagger. "I'll send a kid for you to eat," she said, as I eased myself back down to the floor. At some point, she must have learned wit, because what she sent me was in fact a yearling goat which I must admit I proved most grateful for.

Golden surprised me, wearing the face of Lucius. In my fatigue, I didn't realize the ruse until he was making some jape about me teaching the boy the way of the sword. All night the two of us talked. He conveyed to me the latest political machinations. Mostly we talked about how he was using the Montisferro girl as an attack in the judicial system, attempting to claw back the old family's wealth and connections. We also talked about Leomund's defection. Only Lucius and Lupa had seen the man leave and neither had spoken of the reason. In my ignorance, I became convinced that Vita had made some foray back into Lumisgard and lured him away.

In fact, we talked much longer than I would have liked. As the sun began to rise, I was becoming restless to get my hands upon the boy. I wanted to look into his eyes and understand where he stood. Becoming a father changes a boy into a man, even more so than the taking of a life in war. But the new day came and still he did not visit me. After some rest, I busied myself with the wastelanders. They were an obedient lot, and frightfully truthful. Their lack of guile concerned me, but they had made quite an effort to consume stigmata over the previous year. Not all gambits had proven fruitful, but I reckoned they had more individual power than any army in the world, save perhaps certain troll-hunting bands. Of course, in war, even the greatest warriors can be crippled by poor discipline.

When Lucius finally did return to the camp and meet with me, he brought good reason for his delay. I could hardly imagine the need for a barrel of foul vinegar as he rolled it in and fastened the tent flap behind him. "You lost your legs," he said with the flippant tone only a sociopath could have, or someone with personal experience losing legs.

"You must have lost your sense of smell," I said.

"Spend a year with knives pointed at your son's throat and you stop caring about the little things. But, maybe you wouldn't understand. You never told me if you had a child," he said, planting one boot upon the side of the barrel.

I shook my head. "I'm a soliedar, boy. Not a human. Tell me, has everything gone to plan?"

He scowled. "You know perfectly well it hasn't. The treasury is empty. Gabriel has his own army in the west. Aillesterra mapped the sea lanes. And, worst of all, I can't go six hours without somebody prattling on about Jacque Mordare! I swear, they're speaking of him like an emissary of the gods rather than some idiot who picked a fight with Acheliah and lost. Oh, did I mention that Aurum has a legion of golems at his command? Or that a dozen clergymen escaped the city with the materials to lure the great serpents?"

I waved my hand and shook my head. "All problems that can be dealt with. Does the ley still flow in?"

He sighed. "The ships are being trailed by pirates, but yes. The ley continues to pile up. And to answer the question you didn't ask, yes, I will be given command of the army of retribution. We have a problem though, one you didn't prepare me for in the least," he said, righting the barrel with a grunt of effort. Seizing upon the lid, he twisted it off and the rank smell of pickling flesh filled the tent. He reached within the putrid vinegar and grasped a tangle of black hair, pulling forth a young Aillish man's face. "What in the name of the gods is this thing?" he asked, presenting to me the corpse of the angelhost.