Milamber found his curiosity piqued. With a wave he dismissed Netoha. “And what makes this festival so special? I can’t remember having seen you so animated before.”
“This festival is being given by the Warlord in honor of his nephew, the Emperor. He has plans for a new major offensive the week before the games, and it is hoped he will announce the success of the campaign.” He lowered his voice. “It is no secret to those with access to court gossip he is under a great deal of pressure to justify his conduct of the war before the High Council. Rumor has it he has been forced to offer major concessions to the Blue Wheel Party to regain their support in the war.
“But what will make the games unusual is that the Light of Heaven will leave his Palace of Contemplation, breaking with ancient tradition. It would be a proper occasion for you to make some sort of entrance into court society.”
“I’m sorry, Hocho,” Milamber said, “I have little desire to attend any festivals. I have been to one earlier this month, in Ontoset, as part of my studies. The dances are boring, the food tends toward the awful, and the wine is as flat as the speeches. The games are of less interest still. If this is the court society you speak of, then I’ll be fine without it.”
“Milamber, there are many holes left in your education. Gaining the black robe did not mean instant mastery of our craft. There is quite a bit more involved in protecting the Empire than sitting about dreaming up new ways of tossing energy around, or creating economic chaos with the local moneylenders.” He took another sweet and returned to his chiding. “There are several reasons you must come with me to the festivities, Milamber. First, you are something of a celebrity to the nobles of the realm, for news of your wondrous house has spread from one corner of the Empire to the other, mostly by aid of those young bandits you paid so well to execute the delicate paintings you love so much. It is now considered the mark of some distinction to have the same sort of work done.
“And this place”—his hand inscribed an arc before them, mock wonder upon his face—“anyone who could be so clever to design such an edifice must surely be worthy of attention.” His mocking tone vanished as he added, “By the way, this entire bit of nonsense has not been diminished one whit by your mysterious isolation here in the hinterlands. If anything, it has added to your reputation.
“Now to more important reasons than social ones. As you no doubt know, there is growing concern that the news from the war is somehow being downplayed. In all these years there has been little gain, and some talk is going about that the Emperor may take a stand against the Warlord’s policies. If so . . .” He let the thought go unfinished.
Milamber was silent for a time. “Hocho, I think it is time that I told you something, and if you feel it’s sufficient to warrant my life, then you may return to the Assembly and bring charges.”
Hochopepa was raptly attentive, all quips and sharp remarks put aside.
“You who trained me did your work well, for I am filled with a need to do what is best for the Empire. I hold only a little feeling for the land of my birth anymore, and you will never know what that signifies. But in the process of making me what I am, you could never create the love of home within my being that I once felt for my own Crydee. What you have created is a man with a strong sense of duty, untempered by any love for that thing he feels duty toward.” Hochopepa remained silent as the impact of what Milamber had said penetrated, then he nodded as Milamber continued.
“I may be the greatest threat to the Empire since the Stranger invaded your skies, for if I become involved with its politics, I will be justice without mercy.
“I have known of the factions within the parties, the crossover of families from one party to another, and the consequences of those acts. Do you think because I sit atop my hill in the eastlands, I am unaware of the shifts and stirrings of the political animals in the capital? Of course not. If the Blue Wheel Party collapses and its members realign with the War Party or the Imperials, every street merchant in Ontoset is speculating on the news the next day to the marketplace. I know what is taking place as well as any other who is not directly involved. And in the months since I came to live here, I have come to one conclusion: the Empire is slowly killing itself.”
The older magician said nothing for a moment, then asked, “Have you wondered at all why our system is such that we are killing ourselves?”