Temple of the Traveler: Empress of Dreams (6 page)

“The College earns no income?”

“Not as much as it spends,” said the collector with a shake of his head.

“Enlightening,” said the emperor.

That afternoon, as the usual pre-dinner rainstorm pelted the island, he sent a letter to the headquarters of the lenscraft school at the observatory to ask for the money to buy the desired maps.

The next morning, he received a reply.

Nonessential. However, last night there were distracting lights burning in the palace. The College passed an ordinance that after midnight there shall be no lights below the observatory to interfere with its view. We tolerated the Emperor’s Day festivities, but the celestial monitoring must continue unhindered.

Lord Vapordoom

“What lights?” asked Anna.

“I was reading by candlelight in my room this morning,” admitted the emperor.

“You can’t let them get away with that, or they’ll push you around your whole reign,” observed Niftkin.

“First I need their vote, and then I can knock some sense into them. Niftkin, invite Lord Vapordoom to my throne room at his earliest convenience.”

“Sire, his school is not scheduled to test you for another ten days.”

“Meaning?”

Niftkin kept a straight face. “If you ask him before that, his answer is going to be no.”

“Indeed,” said Pagaose. “Send the request anyway. Anna, have the men in the palace place torches in the garden, but don’t light them yet. All the fruit hasn’t been harvested from the trees and we don’t want the cold to damage them before we can pick it all.”

“Yes, highness,” she said sweetly, with an impish smile.

When Lord Vapordoom ignored the messenger, the emperor ordered the many torches lit at nightfall. Soon after, the aristocrat pounded on the front door, livid. His own arms men were forced to stand outside as Honor Guards led him and two aides to the throne room to meet the emperor.

“What is the meaning—?” the angry lord began. The voice sounded familiar—the man who’d commanded Anna’s death.

A heavy, seven-foot, ceremonial club dropped in front of his face. “Protocol, sir. He hasn’t given you permission to speak, and you’re supposed to bow.”

Vapordoom seethed and gave the barest nod.

Sniffing a white lotus blossom, the emperor asked placidly, “Why are modern maps unnecessary to our navy, tradesmen, and schools?”

“Center takes care of Center; the rest is your problem.”

“Maps are yours.”

“The gods chose you; let them supply your needs. You can’t get money out of thin air.”

“If they did and I did, Lord Vapordoom, would I secure your vote?”

“Eh?”

“If the gods created money out of thin air at my request, would you admit this as proof of my claim and vote for me?”

“My examination of you will rely solely on your knowledge of optics and astronomy.”

“Of these, I am ignorant,” the emperor admitted. “The
Book of Dominion
only uses your equations for launching boulders from a catapult.”

“My school is so essential that our classes are required for every Navy commander and wizard in the College!”

“No, your political power is enough to demand it. That, I respect. However, I can work miracles that you have no explanation for in your science.”

“Preposterous!”

“Words are cheap and common, as is ignorance. I can prove mine. Are you willing to stand behind yours?”

“If you can’t?”

“You’ll never see a light from my window again.”

“I could get that now,” boasted the lord.

“No. According to the founding precepts of Center, the military requires the beacons every mile around the island to stay lit in case of invasion, plague, spirit attack, or uprising. That rule takes precedence; yours is therefore illegal. However, I won’t bring it to the magistrate’s attention if you make the bet.”

Clenching his jaw so hard that his molars might have cracked, the lord muttered, “Show me, now, this bit.”

“I need a yes or a no, in front of these witnesses,” the emperor countered.

“Yes.”

Closing his eyes, Pagaose held the flower above his head. In the light of the Door above the throne, weaker than the day of his arrival, the lotus petals translated into pure sesterina. Then, he handed the expensive flower to the head of the observatory. “This work of art, out of thin air, from the hand of the gods, will pay for my request.”

“Pure spirit metal!” said one aide.

The guards and aides knelt in religious awe. Only the lord stood, goggling at the evidence in his hand.

Gliding casually from the throne room, the emperor said, “That should pay for the maps. Leave your vote at my front door.” As an afterthought, at the side exit, Pagaose turned to face his opponent. “And do not
ever
presume to tell me what to do again.”

When Emperor Sandarac and Empress Humi first received Pagaose’s offer, they didn’t react well. Retiring to their chambers in private, Humi shrieked and shattered vases for an hour. Pregnancy accentuated her natural volatility. Then, turning to her husband, she asked, “Well?”

Sandarac stroked his closely trimmed beard. “This new pretender is no doubt the thief Zariah warned us about. The Intagliosian army didn’t arrive in time.”

“What are you going to do about this?”

“Diplomacy is called for,” he said calmly from the bed. When she opened her mouth to object, he raised a finger. “First, we prevent the announcement from reaching Semenea while we negotiate terms acknowledging our claim. Second, we stall the College of Wizards and cut them off from all support. Third, we claim victory in a letter to the drunkard King Borchart. We claim to have captured his Prefect. The sot knows nothing about military matters. With us controlling the sea, he will have to believe us. Our sole requirement for peace will be choosing us over this newcomer. Navarra can make him think it’s his idea.”

Impressed by this scheme, she admitted, “This could work.” The exotic beauty sat beside him.

“Meanwhile,” he said stroking her hair, “we muster every soldier we possess, including the army of Zanzibos, to invade Center. I wrote the plans last week.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You anticipate my desires.”

“Our child will wear the Imperial crown at Center, or Center will be no more.”

“Beloved,” Humi said, dropping her robes. “We are indeed of one mind.”

****

At breakfast on Moonday, Anna chirped, “Three votes down already! The stodgy, old College wasn’t expecting you to get any of them. You could get the fourth vote today, halfway.”

Niftkin grimaced. “Unfortunately, the rest of the votes won’t be that easy. Someone’s given orders for the military academy to delay as long as possible, and the others will only test you in the sequence laid out by the council. There’ll be no more sneaking.”

“How did you learn this?” asked Pagaose.

The guard looked around to see if anyone else was listening. He whispered, “Your trick of turning the half-breeds into full-blown Imperials has made you friends in high places. There are men of power with beloved-but-illegitimate children you could make into heirs in a matter of heartbeats. Already, they’re sending messages to their children to return to the homeland. These men whisper small secrets to the Honor Guard to help us.”

“Us,” the emperor repeated. “You’ve chosen sides, then?”

“The side of right,” Niftkin asserted. “Our unit could choose no other and retain our name.”

As he feasted on a baked-egg dish, the emperor asked, “So what’s on the agenda today?”

“After lunch, we’ll go to the military academy and they’ll test you on the
Book of Dominion
. Tomorrow morning, they’ll examine your practical knowledge of military strategy. After lunch, they’ll try your skill at the sword.”

“Then today, you and your cohort will teach me what you can about blades as I have instructed you on unarmed combat.”

Niftkin bowed. “As you wish, sire.”

That morning, Pagaose sparred with a practice blade against each of the seven guards on duty. Unfortunately, the Honor Guard agreed with Niftkin’s blunt assessment. “Despite your possession of the One True Sword, you don’t have the disposition of a swordsman.”

“He swings the practice sword like a staff.”

“Not aggressive enough.”

The most recent opponent was sweating and panting. The last guard complained, “But he’s fought all of us and he’s still fresh as a daisy.”

Pagaose didn’t explain that the throne Door constantly refreshed his normal physical energy.

Niftkin grinned. “That’s how you’ll beat them, sire. Don’t do the drills. Challenge them to an outright duel, and then use your endurance to run them into the ground. Win by attrition.”

“I want the duel here so that I can use the familiar ground to my advantage.”

The guard nodded. “As the one who issues the challenge, you get to choose. Your opponent selects the weapon.”

“So be it. Show me what a duel is like,” ordered the emperor.

****

The test on the
Book of Dominion
from the leaders of the military was haphazard. Pagaose effortlessly answered the questions from the first half of the book. The questions from the second half came only from the oldest general present, Lord Conifer. The first time the emperor gave him a shaky reply, the generals conferred in a huddle, trying to decide whether to accept the answer.

Then he realized, “You don’t have the second half of the
Book of Dominion
, do you?”

The youngest admitted, “It burned in the Scattering. Vinspar the scribe stole what remained and carried it to the Pretender.”

“I stole it back from him. He never transcribed it with his own hand; I did.” This made the generals buzz with excitement.

“This would make it easy to refuse Sandarac’s claim,” noted Lord Ashford.

“Oh, there are easier ways,” Pagaose confided. “Sandarac was lamed and sterilized by the jailers in Kiateros. His concubine, Jolia, told me so.”

“We are at an impasse,” the aristocrat admitted. “There are no other legitimate candidates, yet no one can pass the test on the second half.”

“I’ll write you a copy of the first part of the book; my training gives me perfect recall. That will take me at least four days. Lord Conifer studied the entire tome before the Scattering and can help me reconstruct the rest. I have some techniques I can teach him to mine the details from his own memory. The
Book of Dominion
overlaps the other six books of the Traveler, and I have each etched into my mind. This exercise could take weeks, if not months.”

“For the sake of future generations, we will accept this,” said the oldest general.

When Pagaose returned to the palace, Anna asked, “How did it go?”

“Today, I lay siege to their castle. It may take a couple weeks, but they’ll fall,” he replied.

****

After the Stoneday workout with his guards and a few martial-arts aficionados, Pagaose cleaned up and had breakfast as usual. He thanked the chamberlain for the vegetarian dip the night before. “The chickpeas were a wonderful accent, but keep track of anything you spend out of your own pocket.”

“I am not sure to what you may be referring, sire; however, service is its own reward.”

“I won’t be a red-headed stepchild to the College forever. If I might beg your indulgence, my scribe will be rising late today. Since he won’t be needed at my testing, I kept him busy writing an important document until two hours past midnight. Be kind when he wanders in asking for a bite of breakfast.”

“As you wish, sire.”

Anna reported, “Despite what the tax collector said, I got rid of all but three of the maids. This morning they didn’t have time to watch you practice.”

The chamberlain noted, “I made certain to blame the unfortunate curtailment on the theft of silver by that Kragen (ahem) woman.”

The emperor smiled as he had toast with jam. “Every time he wants to insult someone, he clears his throat instead. He’s a born diplomat.”

“I have also trained myself to say thank you when I have an obscene suggestion for someone.”

Anna had to leave first to get to the brewery. As they parted, she grumbled, “Why do you have to go to their silly school? Can’t they ask questions here?”

The emperor shrugged. “The strategy sessions involve hundreds of figurines arrayed on a sand table. The displays can be quite elaborate and take hours to arrange.”

“Boys!” she muttered, leaving with three guards.

“She makes it sound like soldiering is all play,” complained Niftkin.

“When’s the last time our generals actually invaded somewhere?” asked the emperor.

Niftkin opened his mouth twice to reply and closed it both times.

Pagaose chuckled. “She has the tact of a barroom brawler, but she’s not often far from the truth.”

“It’s not fair,” Niftkin objected as they wandered down to the military officer’s academy. “Criticizing her would be like finding fault with my mum. Both of them know how to twist an ear till it hurts.”

Pagaose had a wonderful time discussing strategy with the teachers. Usually, he would begin his answers, “I read that paper,” or, “I walked over that battleground.”

The instructors were pleased with his answers and the discussion that followed. The only complaint was from Lord Conifer. “This was supposed to be an exercise to gauge how you apply what you gleaned from the
Book of Dominion
. Candidates seldom read our papers on matters.”

During the last sand tray of the day, Lord Conifer pointed to the model of a famous historical charge and asked, “What would you do in this instance?”

“Wait,” responded the emperor.

Conifer raised both eyebrows. “Pardon?” He was waiting to reenact the famous charge a unit at a time.

“That’s what the commander in charge was ordered to do in this scenario. His general was bringing in reinforcements.”

“But those reinforcements never came. They collided with another force to the west and were decimated.”