Ch: 247 Look At My King, All Dressed In Green
Her radiant and imperial majesty sat back in her bath and smiled sadly. Behind a painted screen describing a risque bathing scene; commissioned by some naughty empress in the distant past, her clerical regents sat and waited in their own small tubs. She hummed a quiet tune briefly, before she spoke.
“So, all my clerics agree that ‘Somehow’, the orphans of my empire are developing Contracts, without your input or control…” A gentle rustle of cloth beyond her screen suggested some uncomfortable shifting about.
“Kara, you claim that the root of the problem is this orphan waif to the distant north?” She scoffed.
“Begging her radiances’ forgiveness… Lady Joy speaks in my heart and whispers that this is not a ‘problem’ in her sight.” Kara, high celebrant of Joy whispered in the steamy, perfumed bath chamber.
“Rather, she suggests that this is some ancient thing, long forgotten by man. Joy holds that this will cause no harm… to the children so affected.”
George of Healer coughed softly, before he also spoke. “Glorious and benevolent Dana agrees with her sister Cowl. Celebrant Kara and I both agree that, while there may be some short term disruptions in the social order, this will benefit your radiance and all her people.”
“Ridiculous!” General Tully scoffed harshly, walking perilously close to the edge of even the bathing room’s relaxed decorum. “An entire crop of orphans we could sacrifice, even two… All of our stock is being contaminated! This is a catastrophe!”
Order’s calm voice silenced War’s bluster, before he could breach protocol fully. “Radiant empress, nearly every orphan of fifteen years and older in your empire has either been Contracted or has been touched by one of these… entities?” She whispered. “We cannot even determine what beings these Contracts are bound to! We only know for certain that none of our churches have reaped this bounty.”
George and Kara both cleared their throats in unison, sounding oddly smug as well. “George will agree, when I say that is not precisely correct, artificer Greggor.” Kara giggled serenely. “Truth be told, both Joy’s celebrants and the Healer’s rolls have swelled delightfully over these recent weeks. We are fairly bursting with new worshipers.”
“Indeed, divine empress of my heart, it is remarkable… our resources are being strained by this sudden influx of adherents!” George said smugly. “Sweet and glorious empress… there are other, sensitive matters to address as well… matters that touch on your divine radiances’ own person…” He muttered awkwardly.
War scoffed again, drawing quiet gasps from the legion of bath attendants moving silently throughout the chamber. “More unfounded and questionable ‘intelligence’ from those northern barbarians?” He demanded sharply, finally drawing the attention of her first Whisper. “Until her imperial majesty’s majority, We are her guides in matters of law and administration! Joy and Healer should wait in silence until needed!”
A clot of shadows and steam diverged from its aimless drifting and resolved into a tall figure in dark, close fitting armor of silk and leather. “Remove yourself from her radiances’ presence.” Spider snapped coldly.
A brief, sputtering, splashing sound indicated general Tully’s retreat from the bath; the scene played out on the other side of her delightfully naughty painted screen, so Gabriella satisfied herself by imagining the colors his face must have turned...
When War’s regent departed, her guardian faded back into obscurity, Joy’s priestess took over.
“We, the cult of Joy, have wide and varied correspondence, providing insights into the benighted, barbarian lands beyond the fringe…”
“What have your spies discovered, Kara?” The Empress asked mildly. “You may join me in my bath, as you did when I was small… if you cannot speak it openly.” She whispered to the ancient woman beyond the screen.
Order’s pontiff fairly seethed with outrage at the breach of protocol, but Kara obeyed, rising from the lower tub and joining her eminence in the vast perfumed pool reserved for her excellence and those precious few intimates blessed enough to be so invited.
Tall, dark of skin, with a dense cap of ebony black, tightly coiled curls, the empress was youthful, barely more than a girl. She had been less than a year old when the silent newborn empress had first been brought into the care of the palace. Even then Kara had often wondered at this still, calm child; so self possessed and reserved even as an infant.
When the guild of Taxmen and Auditors brought her in, as was their ancient role in the succession; their robed and veiled representative had neither spoken nor lingered, ensuring her origin would remain forever occult.
It was their way, since times unremembered; where they walked, the Taxmen went unquestioned behind their impenetrable robes and veils.
Yet… Kara could not stop wondering lately, where in all the wide world such a child could come from, despite those questions and even those thoughts being deeply taboo.
Like her ‘mother’, the prior empress, gods rest her poor soul… She remained entirely unContracted, touched only by the divine grace of her office.
The empress was entirely unaffiliated with the churches, save for her ceremonial role as head of the church of Secret. For the first time, she wondered why the empress alone remained untouched by the gods…
Pushing those treasonous contemplations aside, Kara slipped into the perfumed and steaming bath with her divine radiance.
“We are alone, Kara… what has you and the others so flustered, you may speak freely here.” The empress said softly, while her handmaid, Emmie scrubbed her back with a sponge from the crystal seas, far to the south. Two other maids were busily attending the imperial manicure, while her guardian Whispers lurked almost unseen in every corner.
“Radiant empress…” Kara began, then faltered.
The empress clapped her hands softly. “Depart please. I would be alone with first celebrant Kara.” Only a soft rustling sound accompanied the departure of two dozen bath attendants and guards. The clerics were a bit noisier at being ejected, despite the example Tully had so recently provided.
When they were truly alone, Kara smiled at her former ward. “Sweet empress… please forgive me…” She said softly. “For many years now, I have been in secret communication with a barbarian cultist to the north. In defiance of long standing imperial commands.”
“Speak clearly, Kara.” The empress nodded her tight, ebon curls once, with a firm expression on her dusky features.
“Your blessed predecessor, Evangeline the twenty fifth empress, decreed all foreign cults and barbarian worshippers beyond our divinely ordained borders apostate, until such time as they submit to the throne of Light….” She bowed again, blushing with deep rooted shame.
“I have been in correspondence with the apostate Otho, my empress, Otho whom the barbarians call the ‘Beloved Of Joy’... in defiance of your radiances’ will and command.”
“Why do you write to this barbarian cultist? Does he wish to petition for citizenship?” She asked archly.
“My empress… I am first celebrant of Joy, recognized and anointed by the goddess to lead her faithful in your realm…” Kara explained, inexplicably.
“That is a startling revelation… save that you have been first celebrant for my entire life… Kara.” The empress said softly.
“I am not, sweet empress, the first among Joy’s celebrants… I am not the Beloved of Joy. That is… and has been for some three centuries and more… Otho of Wheatford. A simple priest in a small, unremarkable town in the backwoods of the twelve barbarian duchies.”
The empress leaned back against the golden porcelain tilework and regarded her first priestess of Joy, gazing at her in calm contemplation. “So this ‘Otho’ outranks you?” She asked.
“Yes, Empress. In Joy’s sight he is first among all. Joy alone of the pantheon has always had a singular Beloved walking the land… uniquely blessed by the goddess… until now.” She gasped, as though speaking caused her physical discomfort.
“Are you well, Kara? Shall I summon George?” Gabriella asked, her face drawn in concern.
“No, Empress, I struggle with the geas of obedience… I am in conflict with myself, this discomfort will pass once you know as much of the truth as I have divined.” The old priestess gasped weakly.
She drew a deep breath and smiled. “By tradition, the empress, blessed and divine, is the head of the cult of Secrets. Thus she is the head of the imperial diplomatic corps… My empress… There is a hierophant of Secrets walking the land for the first time in…” Kara paused to reflect, as her smile faded away. “...for the first time.”
“What?” That single word rang through the bath like a silver bell, high and sharp.
“Secret has chosen an avatar…” Kara whispered. “...and has been slain by that one. Now Marduk, Light in the Darkness, God of Man’s Knowledge looks down from the new moon. Knowledge and wisdom cut cleanly, sharp as moonshadows, bask in his radiance and learn…”
Kara nearly swooned, while reciting that strange passage. Gabriella caught her before the elder priestess could slip beneath the water.
“When you meet him… watch his shadow, his shadow is death… and life.” The ancient woman sagged against her empress… her beloved near daughter and smiled up at her.
“George knows, Follow his guidance when I’m gone… and forgive me for what we’ve done… for so very long.”
“George! Spider! Someone, bring a healer!” Gabriella Rex, Thirtieth empress of the Divine Light shouted into the steam, clutching the closest person she’d ever had to a mother, to her breast as she died.
With her final breaths, the ancient priestess sang softly into the empress’ ear:
See that guy all dressed in green?
Iko, Iko, an day!
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
He not a man,
He a lovin' machine!
Jocomo fee nan nay!
With those final, strangely inflected, indecipherable words, she fell still in the empress’ arms and breathed no more.
#
Bells rang through the imperial city at the empress’ command, once an hour til dawn and once an hour til midday to sing her priestess into Secret’s realm. George of Healer remained at the empress’ side through the trying hours that followed.
Even her handmaidens and dressing ladies were excluded, only the high priest of Dana and the Spider, the empress’ first bodyguard attended the grieving monarch.
Late in the evening of the next day, Spider’s slim, wickedly curved blade slipped effortlessly through the tough leather, revealing a complex tracery of runes, glyphs and sigils, seared into the inside of her slippers’ soles. “Hexed… as you said… but who and how?” Spider hissed dangerously, glaring around the room as if to find an evil cobbler wizard hiding nearby.
“According to the reports we’ve received… this has been ongoing for… centuries?” He shook his head in wonder. “I examined my own raiment as well… Mine is also hexed in this way.”
“I always wondered…” The empress fumed. “Well I won’t wear it anymore!” She snapped at the room in general.
“Sadly, my empress… the regalia is required by law… you will be unable to overrule this decree until your majority on the feast of Secrets this year.” George mumbled apologetically. “Kara, may Secret hold her to his divine bosom, she made certain arrangements with a purveyor of… exuberant literature which is banned in your divine empire…”
“We know that you and beloved Kara patronized the trade boat of Esperanza, the barbarian pornographer. We turned a blind eye to the trade since it seems a silly thing to outlaw. What use have I, for poorly written smut or naughty woodcuts?” Gabriella said with a wan, thin smile.
“Foreseeing this problem and knowing she would not survive the strain of breaking her long held geas, Kara arranged for her, our… my pornographer, to smuggle this to me.” He pulled open the lid of a large wicker hamper and began laying out her regalia. Her usual imperial court raiment was all present… almost.
“These are counterfeit! The underthings… Oh My! They stay on with… buttons? Oh gods… Pockets!”
George backed away as the empress began fiddling with her dressing gown.
“Spider, help me with these things… I’ve never dressed myself before, but I plan to master the art, whatever it takes!” The empress declared, pronouncing her word as law. She suddenly held up a scrap of white cotton, waving it to and fro at the blushing priest. “What are these?!”
“They are called ‘panties’, divine empress… there is a diagram explaining their use, along with a… catalog, if you wish to acquire additional garments from this source.” He did his best to pretend that his empress was not committing several violations of imperial law and custom, just over there.
His own geas of obedience was really kicking up a fuss, conflicting strongly against his bonds to Healer and the oaths of confidentiality they contained. He wrestled it down to a severe case of indigestion and soldiered on.
“They call themselves ‘Aranea’s Secret’, a new guild of tailors and smallclothiers, competing against the League of Underwearsmen.” He said calmly, while he perspired. “It seems they are also willing to counterfeit the regalia and distribute it to… discreet clients.”
“Your Pornographer seems well connected, maybe she should find me some more of this new chocolate!” Gabriella said, with a smile that had been absent since Kara’s passing. Sadness still dominated her face, but a hint of hope seemed to be blooming there as well.
“Actually, my empress… I gave those samples to the former chamberlain… they were to go to you directly as a gift from a friend from… out of town.” George said awkwardly.
“Who have you been writing to, George? Some barbarian hedge witch? A midwife from some island savage cult?” Gabriella asked with a sigh as she reclined back on a divan beside the wide bay window looking out on the night sky as the bells sang for Kara’s soul.
“My correspondence is all strictly mundane. Much of the healer’s art is a craft, like tailoring. We share techniques, formulae for medicines and herb lore among us as professionals, on a purely secular basis. Lady Trelawny Belen, current daughter heir to the duke of Wheatford is one such.” He said with a bow.
“Those samples and these garments came from her hand, in hopes that you might entertain a request.”
“You seem strangely… unsettled, George.” She remarked, as she stepped from behind her screen, clad in her regalia. “It weighs so little… nothing clips to anything or grinds up anywhere…” She whispered to Spider, who nodded in silence.
“Panties are a revelation, George… a divine gift from the gods!” She enthused at the blushing physician priest.
“Why were these gifts waylaid and what request has this ‘Trelawny Belen’ savage?”
“The geas, my empress… Obedience is a blunt instrument, one that we are struggling with even now. I could not simply give you a gift from a foreign noble without going through the official channels, which is where all of lady Belen’s previous overtures went… and were never seen again.”
“Previous overtures? Is someone intercepting my… wait… why do I get so little correspondence?” She asked, looking out her open window at the moons shining above. “When did the little gray one turn green?” She wondered quietly to herself and shrugged.
“I swear to all the gods, when you said I should take up ‘moonbathing’ I thought you mad, George… Now I find myself wondering about things I never questioned before! I’m the gods blessed empress, why does no one listen to me?!”
“Yes, my empress. Kara and I had hoped to wait until your majority to reveal these… overtures to you, that you would have the full authority and power to make your will manifest…” He smiled weakly.
“We were forced to act too early, now we must move with care. Several packages containing detailed reports have been sent to you by the ducal council of the twelve duchies… reports that reveal what I and Kara have begun explaining to you. There is a plot afoot, a plot against your divine radiance… and all mankind in general.”
“Some consortium of barbarian princes are jumping at shadows and I should hop along?” She scoffed. “What does your barbarian princess want of me?” Somehow it felt as though the little green moon sweeping across the night sky so cheerily, was warming her skin with its radiant glow. “It used to be so dismal and gray…” She sighed happily
“She wishes you to visit her…” He answered flatly. “A state visit, by your radiance, to their domain in the north.”
“Impossible.” Gabriela gasped. “The empress cannot leave the palace…” She trailed off slowly, looking up at the moons so high above. “The council of lords and clerics, my regents, would never allow it…”
“My pornographer, empress…” He whispered urgently. “Lady Belen has offered to meet with you in secret, she hopes to prevent disruption and chaos during this time of upheaval. She rightly fears that War, Order and Craft are scheming together.”
“You could smuggle her here? Into the palace?!” Gabriella almost fainted with the delicious scandal of it. “A barbarian, in my presence… how intolerable!”
“My empress… they are not barbarians. I even consider some of them to be my friends, if only through ink and quill.” He sighed sadly.
“Literate savages? Now I am intrigued. Bring her to me.” She looked up at the moons and sighed sadly. “Can you hear me in Secret’s realm Kara? Up there on that little moon?”
“Little moon, your radiance?” George asked.
“The little moon, Secret’s moon, the one that wanders the sky so…” She murmured abstractedly. “It turned green somehow… just like Kara said…” The empress drew a slow breath and sang softly, her beloved caretaker’s last enigmatic words.
See that guy all dressed in green?
Iko, Iko, an day!
He not a man,
He a lovin' machine!
Jocomo fee nan nay!
“George, is poor Jocomo involved in this matter somehow?” She asked sharply.
“Empress of my heart… What would I know of assassins? He is yours alone to command.” The priest said firmly, while Spider shifted uncomfortably in her shadowed corner.
“Empress…” Her first Whisper said softly. “Jocomo will follow whatever orders he received… believing them to be yours. Without hesitation.”
“Oh dear… where is he, my Empress… I must know!” George sheeted ghostly pale as he spoke.
“He goes to Wheatford on a fool’s errand, literally. He was dispatched by my former chamberlain to fetch me chocolate, of all things.” She grumbled sourly.
“Empress, the urgency of our precipitous actions is a result of what the twelve duchies have done… or rather what War, Order and Craft believe they intend. The twelve duchies have suspended their abominable indenture sale. Instead all of their orphans will be inducted into the ducal armies and warbands…” He said soberly. “The council of elders and clerics believe they intend a war of conquest and plan to induce the empire into a preemptive war.”
“Impossible. Only the empress may declare war!” She scoffed.
“My radiant monarch, your chief assassin is currently headed to the twelve duchies… under orders which you did not give… What orders, my beloved empress?” George whispered.
Now it was Gabriella’s turn to change colors. Her face slowly purpled with fury, until George began to worry for her health.
“Treason?” She spoke in less than a whisper, lest the word alone cause heads to topple from their shoulders, as it might just...
“Yes, and worse, my empress. That is why, at dawn you will begin a grand adventure.” He whispered back. “By sheer good fortune, an acquaintance of my pornographer delivered these garments this evening and is still docked nearby… we must hurry. I fear that War, Order and Craft may take the opportunity of your grief to… arrange an accident.” Spider looked up sharply at that pronouncement and found him sober and serious.
From his hamper, he began producing common clothing, such as she had seen commoners wear, in the distance, from her windows… on very clear days.
“I have common garments for myself, Spider and your radiant highness. We will slip from the palace and take ship from a village near here.” George said calmly. “We will board ‘Kingfisher’ in Siltmarsh village at midday. From there we sail for the duchies incognito, until we make our next contact. Thankfully, Barney is awaiting your radiances’ reply… that gives us this slim chance.”
“How will we leave the palace? Even if we did, how will we travel?” The empress fussed. “Fun is fun, but it’s impossible.”
Briskly, he laid out their clothes, all finely made, but of the most common stuff… or so she assumed. To humor him, she dressed in the things… The clothes were a comfy, swaddling embrace, even compared to her counterfeit regalia!
Spider was less enthusiastic. Her dark armor of leather and silk was distinctive, carrying a death sentence if worn by any but the empress’ cult of Whispers. Trading the emblem of her holy service in for barbarian style armor left her frowning unhappily. She tugged at her chain vest and armored sleeves with annoyance. “Fits decent… too heavy.”
“Yes, we should allow an assassination or two and start a war over your costume.” George remarked drily, drawing a dirty look from the warrior. Without his robes of office, in common clothes and a shearling vest like sailors wore, George was a handsome man of surprising youth. He stretched and bounced on the balls of his feet happily. “I always hated robes. Even innocuous ones!”
“The issue remains… how will we leave the palace, if War and Order are involved in whatever this is?” Gabriella demanded, stamping her foot in actual, leather soled shoes… Like a commoner!
“If my empress commands it. We will depart unseen.” At the empress’ terse nod, the warrior woman opened a secret door in the corner of her bedchamber, behind her dressing mirror.
“There’s a peephole here!” She shouted in outrage, before clapping a hand over her own mouth in surprise. “I’m appalled, Spider!” The empress whispered softly.
“Apologies, empress, those, and many others have been here since time out of mind…” She whispered in the space between the walls.
Spider led the two down through passages only her Whispers knew, through chambers and long tunnels closed and sealed for years. Unerringly she led them down a stone staircase to a damp, moss covered wall of natural stone. She slipped through a concealed fissure and vanished, leaving them holding a lantern alone together, far below the palace they thought they knew so well.
She slipped back into view briefly and beconned them to follow, silently. Through damp, mossy pillars of natural stone, rounded, weather worn boulders and into a dim forest glade, they emerged in the dim, foggy light of predawn, far below the palace, near the canals.
Spider leapt into a nearby boat and began doing… boat things, while George helped her aboard the shaky, tippy craft. “You had a boat waiting, George?” She asked in surprise.
“Nope, stolen, majesty. I’m a boat thief now.” Spider complained bitterly as she lifted the sail.
As they caught the breeze and began moving down the canal, Gabriella heard an outraged cry behind them, as a man in his shirttails and no pants ran down the towpath shouting for them to stop.
“We’re criminals!” Gabriella shouted at the angry man. “We’re doing crime stuff!”
Satisfied that no one would ever suspect, she sat down and smiled at her pirate crew. “That was exciting, now what?”
“Now we do this, for a few hours.” Spider said calmly.
“What, just sit here?” The empress had a shocked look on her face. “No wonder criminals are all poor, this seems very inefficient!”
“Yes, Empress… certainly you are correct.” George replied drily.
#
Gary and Shai moored Seahorse and came to bed at midnight, abandoning their lake fishing attempts after hours of fruitless waiting. Curled together and snug, Shai whispered in his ear. “Dae ye really think he’s down there?”
“Yes, love. Hundo percent. He’s probably too scared to surface, after last time.” Together they slipped into the world of dreams to join Becky and the kids.
They went downstairs and walked into an awkward scene. A tall, slippery looking being drifted in the bath, among hundreds of tentacles.
“Quizlas… hello.” Gary said firmly. “No one is going to harm you here.”
The entity in the pool thrashed furiously for a moment then fell deathly still. “Really? No you can’t escape this way. This is more like a dream than an actual interdimensional… wait… seriously?” It waved a half dozen tentacles in a very curt series of gestures.
“Well damn, bro. I know it took a while… Did you ever consider that these people might not be able to read interdimensional squid wizard glyphs?”
The being waved a few more emphatic appendages and discharged a large volume of ink into the bath, clouding it temporarily.
“I’m done being yelled at, buddy! Chill or be chilled!” Gary spoke slowly and clearly, then paused while the being flailed and spurted more ink, this time at the increasingly cross musician.
With a twinkle of occult dark sparkles, a ceramic pedestal appeared beside the pool, with a shiny silvery handle mounted on it. Gary reached over and depressed the gleaming lever, frowning with displeasure at his new guest.
With a quiet, liquid rumble, a huge cascade rushed down the waterfall. The pool, rather than overflowing, began to swirl in a tight spiral, pulling the angry cephalopod down until he vanished entirely with a satisfying gurgle.
“Gary, did you…?” Marduk asked in horror.
“Nahh, I just sent him into normal sleep. I wouldn’t airlock him into the void just for being an asshole.” The musician grumbled. “He can kiss my ass though. I was gonna dive in to talk with him on the bottom, but screw that.”
He took a little time to breathe out all the unpleasant emotions, thoughts of fresh grilled calamari and rage, struggling inside, to let his anger go.
It felt pretty good, consciously working through and digesting those feelings, instead of swallowing them down to linger in his depths.
“Hurt people, hurt, people.” He reminded himself again and again as he looked up and watched their beautiful blue and green globe spin through the starry darkness.
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