Necromancer Awakening (16 page)

The rangers laughed and prodded their mounts forward.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tithian swore.

Chal Ghanix, the Religarian emissary, stood outside Kagan’s audience chamber wearing his white desert noble robes. It was bad enough Tithian had failed to capture the heir, but now he would have to wait to deliver the news.

Two guards stood on either side of the entrance to the audience chamber, staring straight ahead. Their quartz-tipped, golden spears created a prism effect on the wall as the Great Barrier’s ubiquitous yellow light struck them. Beyond the entrance, Kagan sat on a stone chair smoothing his red ceremonial cassock.

A liveried page led Ghanix and Tithian into the chamber. Ghanix dropped to his knees and bowed his head.

Kagan stood and extended his ring of office.

“Emissary Ghanix,” Kagan said. “I trust all is well with the Empire?”

Ghanix pressed his lips to the ring.

“May the Grace of Arin be with you, Holy One,” Ghanix said. “I bring a request from my Emperor.”

“Rise,” Kagan said. “Let us discuss the matter of Egis, and your nation’s recent act of aggression against the west.”

Ghanix’s eyes widened, and Tithian grimaced.

Few played at politics as well as the archmage. Ghanix was going to have a difficult time justifying the Religarian invasion of the Shandarian Union.

The archmage led them to a less formal sitting area beneath a monolithic quartz window.

Ghanix’s eyes kept flashing from Kagan to Tithian and back again.

“The Emperor regrets not attending to this personally,” Ghanix said. “Matters of state keep him in Dar Rodon for now.”

Kagan ambled around a large wooden table to a padded chair that had raised armrests. He sat down and adjusted his cassock.

Ghanix cleared his throat. “The recent
unsanctioned
action taken by the citadel commander at Dyr Agul was most unfortunate.”

Kagan smoothed the folds of his red cassock over his knees.

Ghanix blinked. “The Emperor wishes to inform you it is being dealt with internally.”

Tithian had expected many different explanations—from the aggression being a response to a wayward Shandarian patrol, to the empire’s belief in their divine right of manifest destiny. What he had not expected, however, was the emissary to sacrifice a garrison commander. Smart move. The accusation allowed the Emperor to save face and reduce tensions, while getting rid of an expendable border officer in the process. The garrison commander’s downfall had been set in motion the day he was banished to the border.

Tithian’s pulse quickened. Ghanix had used the word “request” earlier. There could be only one request the emperor would make. Any advantage Kagan began with was fading fast. It would be his turn to think on his feet. The prospect entertained Tithian.

Kagan stopped smoothing his cassock and looked at Ghanix.

“A rogue commander taking matters into his own hands isn’t going to comfort Chancellor Rillick,” Kagan said. “Hundreds of Shandarians lost their lives at Egis, not to mention the loss of livestock and the precious timber that was burned.
Burned
, Emissary!”

“All the more reason for this request,” Ghanix said. “The Emperor wishes a peace agreement brokered between the Empire and Shandarian Union.”

There it is.
A request the Holy One can neither grant nor deny
.

“The Emperor would seek peace personally, of course,” Ghanix said. “But since we share a common faith in Erindor, he defers to your divine office. If the request for peace comes from you personally, Holy One, Chancellor Rillick will embrace it, however reluctant he may be.”

“They are going to want compensation,” Kagan said. “What is the Emperor willing to provide in reparation?”

Ghanix smiled, and Tithian felt a chill. It was a trap, and Kagan had blundered right into it.

“Religarian stone
and
masons,” Ghanix said. “We will provide the Shandarian chancellor with a suitable amount of stone and cutting services. We merely seek an exchange of resources and the possibility of fair trade in future. By Arin’s Glorious Helm, of course.”

Tithian was nonplussed. He had never seen Kagan outmaneuvered before. Chancellor Rillick would accept those terms without question if the amount of stone were sufficient.

“How soon will the Empire be able to deliver?” Kagan asked.

“Quarrymen are filling warehouses in Dyr Agul as we speak, and we have already begun construction of masonry workshops.”

Kagan stood. “I will discuss the matter with the Shandarian ambassador.”

Ghanix appeared troubled by this. “I must express the Emperor’s sincere regret to Ambassador Emaldor personally.”

Kagan smiled at Ghanix and guided him toward the entrance of the audience chamber. “I think you’d agree it would be better if I smoothed things over first. The divine nature of my office may serve to…stay the hand of the Union. No one wants peace more than I.” Kagan extended his ring hand.

Ghanix kissed Kagan’s ring of office and left the audience chamber.

“Summon Ambassador Emaldor,” Kagan said to a nearby guard.

Tithian was confused. Kagan had agreed to something that didn’t make sense.

“I hardly think a peace treaty is in your best interests,” Tithian said.

“Of course not,” Kagan said. “There will be no peace.”

“How do you intend to—”

“Leave the politics to me, Warlock. When this is finished I would have your report.”

Tithian felt the familiar chill settling deep in his spine.

Tithian stood as the chamber echoed with the tap of boots striking the marble floor. Dan Emaldor, ambassador from the Shandarian Union, entered the chamber in the uniform of a Shandarian Army Officer.

Kagan extended his ring.

“Forgive me, Archmage,” the ambassador said. “I am not here on religious pilgrimage.” He bowed at the waist and placed his hand over the seal of office on the jeweled ceremonial dagger hanging from his belt, as if it would fall to the ground if he wasn’t careful. The dagger had no cross-guards, and the new ambassador must still be getting used to it.

Kagan shared a brief look with Tithian. A look Tithian took to mean “watch and learn.”

“I admire your directness,” Kagan said and gestured to the seating area.

Emaldor sat without waiting for Kagan.

Tithian shook his head at Emaldor’s pathetic attempt at manipulation. It may have worked on a local Shandarian mayor, but this was the Pinnacle. He’d have to work harder than a simple breach of etiquette to put the archmage off balance.

Tithian sat in the chair reserved for him. Kagan liked to have him there as a power play, to intimidate visitors. But even Tithian could see intimidation wouldn’t work on Emaldor. A man new to politics would be expecting it. No, Emaldor was about to learn what true manipulation looked like.

Kagan took a seat in his armed chair and leaned forward. “I have unfortunate news for your chancellor. The implications of what I am about to tell you must not be underestimated.”

Emaldor pressed his lips into a thin line.

“I’m sure that by now you’re aware of the border skirmish that caused the near destruction of Egis,” Kagan said.

It wasn’t possible for the ambassador to have this information yet.

Emaldor’s eyes widened for a moment, before his face became expressionless. It was too late, though. Kagan would have seen his reaction, and was, no doubt, planning to exploit it.

“The Overcourt hides nothing from me,” Emaldor said.

“A man of your influence must have many sources of information at your disposal,” Kagan said. “Being appointed by the Shandarian Overcourt is no small accomplishment.”

Emaldor sat erect in his chair.

“I was once new to the world of international politics as well, Ambassador,” Kagan said. “I see much of myself in you. I wish to guide you so that you may avoid some of the pitfalls I stumbled into along the way.”

“Your tutelage is appreciated.”

Kagan smiled and Tithian smiled along with him. This was all part of the game, but Tithian was waiting to see how Kagan was going to sabotage the peace process.

Sabotage. The word made him shiver when used in connection with the holy archmage. Kagan’s motives must be pure. This must all be part of a divine plan.

“The plot against the Shandarian Union threatens to catch your chancellor unaware,” Kagan said. “That will reflect poorly on you in the Overcourt. They may reconsider their appointment if they discover this through other channels. I only wish to see you succeed, of course.”

Emaldor swallowed.

“And now the empire is building up arms in the city of Dyr Agul,” Kagan said. “This is a prelude to war. But then, I’m sure you’ve read the reports already. Forces gathering along the border. The recent annihilation of Egis. And now, as you know, they fortify their garrison with new construction and daily shipments of arms. It does not surprise me you would see war on the horizon, Ambassador.”

So that was it. Kagan would know Shandarian spy networks were reporting a buildup of forces along the Shandarian border. There was no way for them to know the shipments to Dyr Agul were for their own benefit. The sheer size and frequency of the shipments would convince the Union that Religar was preparing an invasion force.

Emaldor nodded. “It appears war is indicated, Archmage.”

“Know the Council of Magi understands the course of action you must take. A difficult position you are in, ordering your country to war, all because of Religarian greed and aggression.”

“This is…I will need to think on—”

“I, of course, stand behind your decision to take Dyr Agul, and I will have no trouble convincing the Council to do the same. They’ll see the wisdom of this strategic plan.”

“Archmage, the chancellor will not go to war on my word alone. The Overcourt will want to investigate these matters. Our constitution demands it. The chancellor cannot make that decision alone.”

“Unfortunate,” Kagan said. “If anyone understands the restrictions of office, it is I. But I’m afraid that by the time you take action there will be no Overcourt left to do any investigating. Or a constitution left to uphold, for that matter. A shame the chancellor is powerless.”

Emaldor looked down for a moment. “Not
exactly
powerless. The chancellor may commit to limited military action while the Overcourt debates.”

Kagan leaned close to the ambassador. “Understand I am no military strategist, such as you. I would send a small force across the Orm into Dyr Agul…perhaps no more than, say, a brigade? The sooner you take their military surplus, the safer the Union will be—the safer
Erindor
will be.”

“I think we would need a larger force than that, Archmage. The Religarians are well-trained soldiers. I would think at least two brigades are necessary.”

“You will have to raze the entire city, of course,” Kagan said.

Tithian’s face grew cold.

“Excuse me?” Emaldor said.

“The surplus could be stored anywhere,” Kagan said. “The empire is notorious for storing arms in civilian homes.”

“They would do such a thing?”

“Even worse, I’m afraid. They sometimes disguise their soldiers as civilians. Barbarians.”

Tithian fought to understand the emotions he was feeling. What the archmage was so casually suggesting would result in the deaths of hundreds of innocent people who, in all likelihood, had never held a sword a day in their lives. If the archmage—the infallible voice of the gods—could lie about this, then what else was he capable of lying about?

“We can leave no one alive in Dyr Agul, Archmage. I hope the Council will understand.”

Kagan leaned back in his seat. “I must say, Ambassador, I’m impressed by you. Your suggestion to send two brigades across the Orm demonstrates you are more skilled at matters of war than I am.”

“You flatter me, Archmage. I will notify the Overcourt. This Religarian aggression must be stopped once and for all.”

“No truer words have been spoken,” Kagan said.

When Emaldor had left the audience chamber, Tithian faced Kagan. “I would never question you in front of the ambassador, but—”