Lord Baranack shook his head.
“Please, Your—I mean, my lady, please try to enjoy the city a bit. I could show you another side of it. Some places you may not have seen with your, ah, colleague.”
The Queen frowned. “I appreciate your effort, but I cannot imagine a side of the capital that could erase the first impression so thoroughly as to render the city enjoyable,” she said.
“I think—” Baranack began.
A man quietly cleared his throat from the corner of the room, and Baranack spun like a startled rabbit. A figure stood before him dressed in servant clothing, but he had the smaller than normal horns that tended to characterize a mixed race demon-human hybrid.
Is he one of the serving staff the Emperor provided for the embassy? Baranack wondered. But we are closed today, and I do not recognize him. Just how did he enter so stealthily?
“Are you here for me?” he asked. The slightest hint of nervousness crept into his voice against his will. He was not a man who had ever liked surprises. He needed to be in control.
“No other, my lord,” the stranger said. His voice carried a mixture of cold indifference and courtesy that Baranack found surprisingly reassuring. This was at least familiar.
“Um, my lady, I apparently have some business to attend. Diplomacy never rests.”
Carolien simply nodded and left the room, moving with that elegance and grace that seemed almost as much a part of her as her hands and feet.
Once she was safely clear of the room, Baranack turned to face his guest.
“Do you have some message for me?” he asked.
The figure silently reached into a hidden pocket in his sleeve and produced a small, rolled up piece of parchment.
Baranack almost snatched the paper from the other man’s hands. As soon as he had seen it, he had recognized the seal.
“This is—” He stopped himself. Even if the door was closed, the room was not especially secured against spycraft.
He swallowed and, ignoring the message-bearer’s presence for now, walked to a corner of the room to open the message away from prying eyes.
He broke the seal. The note inside was very brief.
“The recipient of this note is to accompany the messenger to the Chamber of the Bear. They are not to be obstructed in their progression.”
Baranack looked up at the messenger.
“You, then?” Baranack asked finally.
“Me,” the messenger said, nodding. “You are to accompany me to the location specified. I will ensure that no harm comes to you.”
You? Baranack looked the man over as unobtrusively as he could given that they were facing each other. Well, big threats can come in small forms.
For reasons he did not immediately grasp, his mind jumped to the palace garden in Wayn. Then he shook his head.
No time for the mind to wander.
“I will go with you,” he said simply.
The man nodded. Baranack turned toward the door he had just closed, but the messenger strode confidently in the other direction. Baranack turned and saw the man was moving toward a book shelf that stood against one of the interior walls.
“Where are you—”
The man stepped just past the bookcase and began running his hand along the wall, apparently searching for something. He pressed his fingers against a small stone in the wall that looked like any other. The stone slid into a recess in the wall, and Baranack’s mouth opened slightly.
What?
There was a sound of metal clicking, and a door opened in what had seemed to be a solid stone wall beside the bookcase.
Baranack stepped forward to look at where the door led.
“What the…” Baranack didn’t finish the sentence he had in mind. He was in awe. There was no mere small hidden room behind the wall. Rather, there was a stone staircase leading into an underground passage.
This building does not have a basement, Baranack thought. So this passage might extend all throughout the area beneath it. There could be paths that lead into every room…
“What? Did you forget that the Empire built this place for the Kingdom’s use? Why would we construct a building we could not enter if necessary?” The voice of the messenger was almost gloating.
Baranack turned back to look at the man again, with different eyes now. His face was curled in an arrogant smile. It reminded Baranack of a cat playing with a mouse.
“Who are you?” he asked.
The man straightened his expression in an instant and became a cypher, giving no information away.
“My name is of no importance,” he said. “Only the role I serve matters. I handle the matters the Emperor deigns to assign to me. Other than that, my life has no worth.”
He reports directly to the Emperor directly, then, Baranack thought, mind whirling. How many officials does that describe? And to be given a mission like this…
“You are Agar—” He found himself choking the end of the name back as the other man turned a deadly stare on him.
“My name is of no true importance,” the man said. “I am merely a tool. But if you speak the name here, you might endanger both of us.”
Anyone who hears our conversation here will already have enough information to hang me, Baranack thought. But he did not argue. He could feel now that this man was dangerous. Deadly.
What is the head of the Empire’s Assassination Unit doing here? Why send him? He swallowed. Am I to be disposed of in that underground passage?
The assassin stepped forward and into the dark stairway. Then he glanced back up at Baranack, an impatient expression on his face.
“Are you coming voluntarily?” Agarov asked.
“Um, yes, of course,” Baranack said. He quickly stepped in after the assassin.
Agarov pressed a stone button on the wall beside the doorway, and the panel slid shut behind them.
This place was not completely dark after all, Baranack could see once the light from the room was gone. Some stones glowed in the darkness around their feet and occasionally near their heads. He had never seen anything like it.
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To be expected of a superior civilization, he thought. The Empire experiments, while we stagnate. That is why Claustria must eventually become a possession of the Empire. The best thing for everyone concerned, really.
He followed Agarov further into the near darkness, and the two walked in almost complete silence for the better part of an hour.
There were forks and twists in the path that Baranack could not keep track of, but Agarov never seemed to lose his way.
How much time has he spent in this darkness? he wondered. What does he do in this place? Has he been watching me since I arrived? Observing for any sign of disloyalty?
Just when Baranack was about to ask how much further there was to go, Agarov stopped at what seemed to be a normal wall. The tunnel looked to go on for an unknown distance yet, but Agarov looked for something in the wall.
Baranack realized this must be the destination. There would be another door, and then they would be let out somewhere outdoors.
Sure enough, a moment later, he heard stone shifting. Agarov stepped back from whatever button or lever he’d pressed, and daylight hit Baranack’s eyes.
It was almost blinding after so long in the dark. He allowed Agarov to take him by the shoulder and lead him forward.
After blinking a few times, Baranack found himself standing behind a thick bush. He looked up and saw that a great wall sprung up behind him. There were soldiers atop the wall.
He turned left and right, and he saw the wall had a much more obvious curve than the longer walls that defended the city as a whole. He was inside a smaller fortification.
Castle Stalen, he realized. He is taking me to the Emperor directly!
Agarov grabbed his shoulder again and tugged him firmly but gently around the side of the bushes until they stepped into the open courtyard.
“Where to now?” Baranack asked, his heart beating faster.
I will meet the Emperor himself today…
“We must still be cautious,” Agarov whispered. “The walls have eyes and ears, and it is possible that not all of them are ours.”
Baranack nodded and exhaled. “Yes, of course,” he said.
“I will take you to one of the Imperial Guard who I trust,” Agarov said. “Follow my lead, and let me do the talking until we are beyond the outer layers of security. This is for your own safety. Many of the Emperor’s soldiers who are perfectly loyal will be loath to trust a human.”
You are half human yourself, are you not? Baranack wondered. Do you not suffer under the same prejudice?
But then, Stalenton had more racial mixing than most of the Empire. It was a cosmopolitan city. A man like Agarov would probably not stand out as unusual here.
Baranack walked obediently in front of Agarov with the other man holding him by the forearm. It made him feel a bit like a prisoner, but he could see that the first pair of guards they passed looked surprised to see a full human in the courtyard and then seemed relieved that Agarov had hold of him.
I suppose there are not many humans who run in the highest circles of the Empire, he thought.
As they were about to enter the main body of the castle, a pair of guards in plate armor holding pikes stepped out from beside the doorway. The long pairs of horns poking out from the openings in their helmets and a reddish tinge to their eyes showed that both were full-blooded demons. One of them raised a hand to order them to stop.
“Who do we have here?” he asked, smiling so that all his teeth showed.
Baranack swallowed. The man’s face was scary enough without him showing how sharp his canines were. Almost like a wolf’s teeth.
There was a feeling about the guard as he stared at Baranack. As if the armored man just might eat the smaller figure who stood before him. Only Agarov could prevent it.
Baranack anxiously looked back at the assassin.
“Show him your command, my lord,” Agarov said, letting go of Baranack’s arm and gently pushing him forward.
Baranack quickly drew out the piece of parchment. He had never handled a piece of paper so quickly in all his life, and the guard hardly had to exert any force to pull it from his shaking hands.
“Hmm. The Imperial Seal,” the guard said. “I hardly ever see a document with that on it. Highest level of authority. Difficult to forge.” He licked his lips. “Not impossible, though.”
“Are you saying that you doubt its authenticity?” Agarov asked brusquely. “The seal is clear, and the Emperor is not a patient man. His guards all have to have perfect eyesight. But maybe the Captain of the Guard made a mistake with you. Perhaps the Emperor’s Mercy can test your vision.”
The guard visibly paled.
“You—”
“The note says not to obstruct us,” Agarov said. “Does it not?”
“Right you are, sir,” the guard said.
Now he was the one shaking, Baranack noticed. The guard stood aside and yanked open a door, and his companion quickly stepped back to open the other. Agarov took back the parchment and returned it to Baranac, and then they advanced.
As the doors closed behind them, Baranack could not resist asking.
“The Emperor’s Mercy?” he whispered.
“The imperial master of torture,” Agarov replied without batting an eye. “A personal friend. She makes men weep before she even lays a hand on them. I would call her an artist.”
“Right. Yes. An artist.”
Baranack began to doubt his decision making, then shook his head.
The Emperor does whatever is required to advance the Empire. That is the key principle.
Agarov continued to lead him forward. They walked down a long corridor. The surroundings were decorated with elegant paintings, beautiful statues, and tapestries depicting epic historical events, but Baranack barely noticed them. He was ready to faint at any moment.
Finally, two guards appeared—seemed to step almost out of the thin air, they moved so silently and stealthily. Agarov seemed unsurprised, but Baranack had to use all his self-control not to jump.
Both figures wore plate armor as well, but it was colored red, either with paint or some trick of metallurgy.
“Well met, Master Assassin,” said one of the guards.
Agarov broke into a wide grin, and he pulled the speaker into an embrace.
As Baranack looked on in surprise, the guard Agarov was hugging removed his helmet—revealing a face identical to Agarov’s.
“My twin brother,” Agarov said as he stepped back. “This is the man I trust most in the world.”
“Well, that would make a lot of sense,” Baranack murmured. He bowed his head slightly. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir.”
“The pleasure is all ours, I feel certain,” said the twin. “We are fortunate to have such an important person here with us. I will escort you to the Chamber of the Bear, then.”
The twin and the other guard, who remained silent and kept his helmet on, walked Agarov and Baranack further down the hall. Other guards appeared at what seemed to Baranack random intervals, but they ignored Baranack and Agarov once they saw who was escorting them.
Finally, they stopped at a small, ordinary-looking door. There was an insignia of a bear on the outside of it.
“This is where I leave you, then,” said Agarov’s twin.
“With luck, I will see you soon,” Agarov said, smiling.
“I hope so,” the twin replied. His face curled in a smile, too, but there was something melancholy about it.
It made Baranack wonder. Was the Emperor an impulsive person? Was he the sort of man who, in a meeting, behaved unpredictably? Was Agarov’s brother wondering if he would ever see Agarov again? Most importantly, by extension, was Baranack in danger?
But it was too late to stop and think now.
Agarov knocked on the door, and there was an immediate answer.
A deep, rich voice said simply, “Come.”
And then Agarov was pulling him through the doorway.
Baranack gaped as he looked into the room. It was full of furs. Almost all bear furs. Sitting on a large wooden chair in a corner of the room by a roaring fire was a man who bore the long, thick horns and wore the silk that indicated he was of high social status. A human serving girl dressed in scanty clothing stood next to him holding a tray with drinks on it.
But Baranack didn’t need any of those visual indicators. He could simply feel something different about the man in the heavy chair. A pressure to the air around him like nothing Baranack had ever experienced before.
This was the Emperor.
As Baranack stared into the room, he heard the door close behind him.
Only then did he hear the Emperor’s voice again.
“My dear servant Baranack.” His bass voice seemed almost to ring with mockery. “Why have you appeared in my city so unexpectedly? Have you failed in your mission? If so—” He sighed and shook his head—“what is to be done with you?”
Baranack swallowed but managed to suppress the urge to turn and run from the room. He would be fine. He had good news.
“I have not failed in my mission, Your Divine Majesty,” Baranack said. “I have brought you a great gift. The Claustrian King’s heir.”