The False Martyr (54 page)

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The answer to Jon’s
question withheld his presence until the day was almost complete.
With every passing moment, Ipid’s irascibility increased. By the
time he finished his afternoon tea, he was so tightly wound that he
could barely swallow. He knew now that Eia had planned this, that
Ambassador an’ Pmalatir had the answer to Jon’s question, that she
was keeping it from him on purpose. Why, was the question. Did she
want him to fail? He could think of no other reason for her to have
secret meetings, no reason for her to keep their content from him.
And if he had not happened to have woken? Would he ever have known
that they were withholding information from him?

If the ambassador knew the
names of those stirring resentment, Ipid needed to act immediately
to remove them. Every passing moment allowed them to infect more
minds, to solidify their support, to foster rebellion, to be tipped
off and hide. He could not help but think that the previous night
would have been perfect. The traitors would have been asleep, easy
to find, and gone before their supporters rose to start their day.
And now the moment was gone. By the time it reached him, the news
would be stale and worthless. His hands would be tied, dissent
would organize and spread. Like weeds, iis seeds would spread with
each passing day until the only way to remove it was to plow the
entire garden under.

As desperate as he was, he
could not get anything from Eia. He had tried cajoling in the
morning, demanding after breakfast, ignoring before lunch,
threatening as they ate, yelling and screaming at tea. None of it
had swayed her in the slightest. If anything, she seemed to enjoy
his anger and met each outburst with increasing attempts at
affection, leaving those who served him to bear the brunt of the
anger that she deflected. Though it was in no way their fault,
every aid, advisor, and servant who had walked through the doors of
his office had been abused in some way. It was to the point that
they now entered the room cringing.

As if sensing his
thoughts, Eia placed a cool hand on his. He looked at her with hard
eyes, wanting more than anything to strike her. “Soon,” she
mouthed.

He shook off her hand and
turned back to the bookkeeper standing on the other side of the
desk. “The Darthur don’t eat hogs,” he snapped at the man. “Why are
they included here? I’ve told Jon that time and again. Can’t you
understand that?”

“
Lord Chancellor, I . . .
I am sorry . . . I . . . I thought we were still to send the hogs
because the other peoples will eat them. I . . . I will remove them
at once.” The bookkeeper – a younger man than Ipid might except,
wary and nervous at the best of times – stammered and fumbled with
his papers.

Ipid gave a great sigh.
The man was correct, of course. The other peoples who accompanied
the Darthur would gladly eat the hogs even
if the Darthur would not
. His mood
and inability to concentrate were only making an already difficult
task harder for the people around him. “No,” he yelled. “Don’t
remove them. We’ll never meet the invaders’ requirements if we
withhold the hogs. There aren’t enough cattle and sheep in the
country. The other groups of invaders will eat them.”

The bookkeeper’s mouth
bobbed up and down. He stared at the papers before him. With some
effort, he swallowed his words and accepted that his ruler might
not want his inconsistencies pointed out. “Of course, Lord
Chancellor.”

“
Is there anything
further?” Ipid growled. The Order help the man should he answer in
the affirmative.

He looked down at his
papers, mouth working – clearly there were more items to discuss –
and made a wise decision. “Nothing for now, Lord
Chancellor.”

“
Very well then, off with
you!”

The bookkeeper did not
even bother to stack his papers before backing toward the door,
bowing all the way, a mangled pile of paper pressed to his chest,
wet ink staining his jacket, conical hat precariously close to
tumbling.

“
It’s not his fault,” Eia
whispered from behind. Her hands found his shoulders, and her mouth
lowered to his ear. “That poor fellow has done nothing to draw your
ire, and now he is so traumatized he may not make it through what
little remains of the day.”

Ipid was too riled to feel
any regret. He was the Chancellor and a tyrant at that. He would be
angry at anyone and everyone he chose. He was just about to tell
Eia exactly that when the office door opened – nearly hitting the
bookkeeper in his haste to be away. “The esteemed Ambassador to the
San Chier Empire has asked for an audience, Lord Chancellor,” the
butler said from just inside the door, his deep baritone
effortlessly filling the room.

Around the room, men
looked up from the books and papers where they were diligently
scribbling. Ipid had no idea what many of them were working on or
why it needed to be done in his presence, but he also wasn’t in the
mood to ask. As his eyes scanned them, the men returned to their
work, scratching with a fervor seldom seen and shrinking into their
desks as if hoping to disappear. It was the first time Ipid had
paid any of them the slightest attention, but they had clearly seen
the fate of others who drew his eye this day.

“
What does he want?” Ipid
asked. He glared at Eia. She just rolled her eyes, consigned to his
petulance.

“
He did not say, Lord
Chancellor. Would you like me to inquire?”

Ipid thought about sending
him away, making him wait, having the fat bastard arrested. “No, I
will meet him in the study. Send him in.”

He stood and walked to the
side chamber without waiting for Eia or the ambassador. The room
was dim and windowless. After the brightly lit main office, it was
a dungeon. Refusing to stop long enough for his eyes to adjust, a
chair caught his toe as he maneuvered around the too large table
he’d had placed in the room. He pitched forward, barely recovering
before his head met another chair.

Behind him, Eia giggled.
“Careful. You might knock the indignation right out of yourself.
What would you do then?”

Ipid threw back the padded
chair at the table’s head – nearly toppling it in his fury – and
sat. His fingers drummed the table as he glowered at the door,
waiting for the ambassador. Eia found a seat at the far end, facing
him – keeping her distance, no doubt. She matched his expression
with a mock scowl. Ipid wanted to slap it from her face.

“
There you are,”
Ambassador an’ Pmalatir announced as he strode through the door. He
looked around the room. “My goodness, do you think you could have
found a bigger table
? I don’t know if I’ll
be able to fit.” He held his great belly, tented again with a
purple tunic and scanned the room. His eye caught Eia, and he
smiled as if to an old friend. She returned his smile and examined
the room as if actually considering his question.

“
Shut the door,” Ipid
demanded.

The ambassador did as
ordered, but without any sign of subservience. “Is that any way to
address a representative from a potential ally on the eve of a war
with the largest, most powerful nation on this side of the Clouded
Range? It is the hope of the
Most Holy
Empire as established by our Great Savior Xionious
Valatarian
that we might find common cause
with our rightful western kingdoms in this pending war against the
fallen rebels that occupy the lands between us. However, if you
cannot show proper respect to those who speak on behalf of the
Final Arbiter of the Order’s Will as ordained by our savior, the
Emperor of the Rising Sun, we will be forced to reconsider the
terms under which we will provide our aid.”

Ipid released a long
breath. He had neither the time nor patience for these games.
“Sit!”

“
Oh my, you do have a lot
to learn about diplomacy. First, you should recognize that in
matters of state, I represent the Emperor and all his peoples and
should be respected as such. Given that our nations are on friendly
terms, you should greet me as a relative equal. Stand, shake my
hand, greet me warmly, say something like, ‘Ambassador an’
Pmalatir, I am pleased to see you. Thank you for coming. The people
of these Unified Kingdoms want to extend our warmest regards to our
fellows in the Empire.’ You could then give us a pleasant, easy
topic to discuss, preferably something that shows your regard for
my nation. ‘I am so looking forward to this year’s vintage. How is
it progressing?’ is a good entry. That allows us to talk about a
topic of mutual interest before the real negotiations begin. Now,
would you like to try again?”

“
What was it that you were
discussing with Eia last night?” Ipid asked, ignoring the
ambassador’s advice entirely.

The ambassador was
unflappable. “I’m sorry, Lord Chancellor. I think you
misunderstood. I know it is tempting to address the most pressing
topics early, but controversy should always be left for the end.
That way, even if I become offended and storm from the room, you
will have accomplished something.” He looked from Ipid to Eia and
back with a rise of his shoulders. Finally, he addressed Eia, “He
really is taking the tyrant thing to heart, isn’t he?”

She watched him cautiously
then smirked. “I’m afraid we have expended the Chancellor’s limited
patience. He is convinced that we are conspiring against
him.”

The ambassador looked
indignant. He stared from Eia to Ipid and back again. “Why of
course I’m conspiring. I’m an ambassador. That is one of my most
important duties. How else can a nation be expected to conspire
except through its diplomats? I am horribly offended that you might
think otherwise. That, however, is no reason to be rude. Conspiring
is what people do, but we still maintain our manners. It is what
separates us from the animals for the Order’s sake.” He pulled back
a chair and lowered himself slowly into it. “I was waiting for a
proper greeting, but I see it is not coming, and my old legs are
about to give out.” He pulled a cloth from his pocket and wiped at
the sweat dripping from his face. His purple tunic was already
stained dark at the line of his neck and under his arms. He removed
his hat to show dark hair plastered to his head around a poorly
hidden bare patch.

The ambassador was
correct, of course, and Ipid knew it. This was no different than
dealing with an untrustworthy supplier, corrupt manager, or
two-timing partner. No matter how much they hurt you, no matter how
much you hated them, there were protocols to follow. It was
business. As soon as it became personal, you lost. Of importance
were the motives and the damage done. And those were not discovered
through fuming. Yet this betrayal was somehow so much
more.

“
Refreshments?” Ambassador
an’ Pmalatir asked when he was settled. He spoke as if the earlier
discord had never existed. “It is such a hot day, I could use
something to cool my tongue. Chancellor Kavich knew that I prefer
punch in the summer months – something with fruit and a sweet wine
would please me more than you know.”

Ipid gestured to the
bottle in the corner. Eia frowned but rose and poured two fingers
of brandy into a snifter. “My lord?” she motioned toward Ipid with
the bottle.

“
Might as
well.”

With a glib smile, she
filled a second glass and delivered them, gliding smoothly around
the table before returning to her seat where she sat with her legs
crossed beneath her.

“
So you admit that you are
conspiring against me?” Ipid asked when he had his glass. There was
no point in retreating now, especially since it would only look as
if he were doing it because the ambassador had told him
to.

“
Certainly,” Ambassador
an’ Pmalatir responded, “I am conspiring with my every breath to
lure your lovely wife to my bed.” He looked toward Eia and winked.
She attempted scorn, but her amusement was clear. “But if you are
going to take heads for that, there will be a remarkable fall in
the need for hats here in the Unified Kingdoms, let me assure you.
Especially, if you allow her to continue dressing like that.” His
eyes ate Eia, lingering on the space at the top of her chest where
the tight-fitting dress pressed her white breasts up to reveal
their curve. The rest of the sleeveless, shimmering mauve creation
clung to her in a way that had never been seen in the
Kingdoms.

“
You know what I mean,”
Ipid snapped, tired already of the ambassador’s games.

“
What other conspiracy
could I have planned against you, Lord Chancellor? I swore only a
few days ago that I would aid you in your attempt to rule. My
nation and yours are aligned by our commitment to the invaders and
desire to see Liandria undone. Given that you are one of the very
few men in these Kingdoms to support those same goals, I can only
think that we should be staunch allies. Why would you think
otherwise?”

“
Can there be any other
reason for you to meet with Eia in the middle of the night? For you
to give your reports to her? For you to withhold them from
me?”

“
I thought I’d just
explained why I was meeting with your lovely wife in the middle of
the night.” The ambassador looked around the room in surprise. “I
know, Lord Chancellor, that you did not often take lovers, but
surely you know what a man and woman are typically doing when they
meet in the middle of the night.”