Resplendent in his finest suit of armour, and carrying his heirloom family sword in the scabbard at his black-lacquered belt, Tasaio ordered his retinue forward. As they traversed the lofty halls of the council complex, he gave his First Adviser a dry, satisfied smile. ‘Ichindar knows enough to keep the illusion of command, even if the reality of his authority is in question.’
Incomo gave no reply. Hot in his ceremonial clothing and too breathless from brisk walking for even a pretence of dignity, he barely maintained the correct distance behind his master as he attempted to ascertain what might go wrong during the coming confrontation. As they reached the entry to the council hall, Incomo was caught by surprise as Tasaio stopped suddenly on the threshold of the main portal; the elderly adviser barely avoided a collision. Yanked from his preoccupation over possible disasters, Incomo peered over his master’s shoulder to see what caused the delay.
The chamber was filled with Ruling Lords, not unexpectedly, since the lowest ranks took their seats first, and as the current most powerful family in the Empire, Tasaio was privileged to assume his place last. That this was no ordinary council stood confirmed by the fact that even the highest tiers of galleries were packed. The least significant Lords in the Empire had seen fit to attend this gathering, surest indicator of a time of crisis. Incomo squinted nearsighted eyes to better make out the central dais. In the dazzle of sunlight from the dome, he made out a figure in shining white overrobes and armour of precious polished gold. Ichindar, ninety-one times Emperor, stood at the top of the central dais. Through the flash of jewels and metal, Incomo took a moment to notice what had changed.
When he did, the reason behind Tasaio’s precipitous stop became plain: the ivory and gold throne that had seated generations of previous Warlords was no longer in place upon the dais.
‘Curse the name of her ancestors,’ Tasaio hissed under his breath. After the absence of the gold and white throne, he had spotted Mara, clad in shimmering green silk, and standing below the dais at the feet of the Light of Heaven.
‘My Lord Tasaio,’ addressed Ichindar in the awkward interval while Tasaio was still not recovered from surprise. The Lord of the Minwanabi had plainly intended to enter the chamber and, before the entire High Council and the Emperor himself, presume to mount the dais and take the Warlord’s seat. Mara had arranged to have the chair removed to rob him of such theatrics. As all eyes turned, catching the Minwanabi Lord in his moment of furious embarrassment, the Light of Heaven continued. ‘You sought my attendance at a meeting with the Lords of the Empire. I have come.’
Tasaio recovered his poise with a reflex as swift as a sword stroke. As if he intended to speak all along from his position in the central doorway, he looked loftily over the hall. ‘Your Majesty, my Lords.’ He glanced at Mara. ‘Lady.’ Entering the chamber to a hushed audience, he slowly descended the stairs. ‘We come to demand an end to this interruption of the traditional course of governance in the Empire.’ Without pause to make a bow he said, ‘Majesty, I say it is time for the High Council to reconvene for the appointment of a new Warlord.’
Quiet for only a moment as Tasaio reached the wide concourse above the lowest floor, the glittering figure on the dais inclined his head. ‘I agree.’
Taken aback a second time in moments, Tasaio stopped. He realized that to descend the stairs further would put him below the Emperor, so he remained where he was, looking at Ichindar at eye level. Yet he hesitated. Of all the answers he had anticipated, this was the last he expected to hear. ‘You agree, Majesty?’
Ichindar raised his jewelled rod of office. ‘Before this day is ended, we must arrive at a clear consensus. The High Council must ratify my decisions of the last year, or the old order must be reestablished.’ He glanced down at Mara, ‘I am in debt to the Lady of Acoma for lending me understanding. I now perceive that a single dictate is not the way to gain support for the changes necessary to ensure our future. If our Empire is to survive, the time has arrived for us all to rethink our needs. Other worlds and cultures are now open to us through the rift gates. In our first experience we have learned to our sorrow that the old ways of conquest and war are poor coin to treat with the peoples of other realms.
‘Not only have our former enemies shown themselves to be honourable men,’ continued the Emperor, ‘they have generously kept us apprised of their struggles against the ancient horror known in our history as the Enemy.’ A buzz of talk greeted this, yet Ichindar raised his voice above it. ‘To deal with the Midkemians, and others who may come after them, we need to change our ways.’