Miranda turned and faced downhill, her shoulders hunched in barely contained anger. The others hardly heard her as she said, ‘Where is my husband?’
Pug welcomed the sight of Martuch and Hirea. ‘What of Nakor and Bek?’ he asked.
The two old fighters said, ‘They were well, last we saw of them.’ Glancing around, Martuch said, ‘Where is Lord Valko?’
Pug said, ‘With his sister and the other Bloodwitches. They said he needs to remain with them for a while.’ He looked down a moment, as if considering his next words. ‘I sense something is converging. Enough was said to lead me to believe that the White is positioning itself, getting ready to move if the opportunity presents itself.’
‘Ah,’ said Hirea. ‘Then the Gardener remained as well.’
Pug said, ‘I have much to tell you, some of which may be difficult to understand, but before I do, what of the muster?’
‘No one has passed word to the leaders of the battle societies or any of the great houses. A great muster is coming, that we know, but we do not know when. There has been a calling of the Imperial Guard, which is unusual. We judge it to be a prelude.’
‘A prelude to what?’ asked Magnus. ‘Is there no one in the palace who might be able to shed light on this?’
Martuch said, ‘Our alliances are twisted, at times, and there are many factions even within the White. The Gardener forged a strong, single purpose, but before that…’
Pug said, ‘I have some sense of it. Before that it was chasing alliances and a great deal of talk.’
Martuch bridled and Hirea looked ready to draw his sword. ‘Many died so that we might have alliances and talk, human,’ said the old instructor. ‘Valko’s father willingly gave his life so that his son could assume the mantle of House Camareen. We are a race of fighters; plots and planning do not come easily to us, and above all else, we chafe at waiting.’
‘I think you will not have to wait much longer,’ said Magnus. ‘Father, tell them about the White, the Bloodwitches, and the Gardener. And most of all, tell them about Ban-ath.’
Pug nodded. ‘Listen, my friends, and realize that what I am about to tell you may strain your credulity, but every word I say to you know is true.’ Pug then began to tell them the tale of Macros the Black and the Trickster God.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Disaster
THE COUNCIL WAS IN AN UPROAR.
Several factions loyal to the Emperor had banded together to block what they felt was the blatant attempt by the Warlord to re-establish a predominance not seen since before the time of the Mistress of the Empire. Tetsu of the Minwanabi, Warlord of the Nations of Tsuranuanni, by grace of his cousin the Emperor, stood and held up his hands. ‘Silence!’ he commanded.
The office of Warlord was supreme, in the absence of the Emperor, but he faced a generation of ruling lords and ladies who had never before been confronted by anyone wearing that mantle. They were far less inclined to heed his commands than their ancestors might have been. Even so, Tetsu was a charismatic leader and he carried the majesty of office, as well as a dozen Imperial Guards who now moved around the vast hall urging the raucous rulers of the Empire to calm.
‘Heed me!’ shouted Tetsu.
Tetsu of the Minwanabi was torn. He had been raised unlike any other heir to the mantle of power in the Empire. House Minwanabi was one of the five great houses of the Empire, and his place among the ruling elite of the nations had been secured before his birth. But history had conspired always to place the Minwanabi in a subsidiary role to their cousins the Acoma, the Emperor’s house. For as long as he could remember, Tetsu of the Minwanabi had plotted and schemed to rise to the highest position possible in the High Council, and whatever murderous fantasy he might imagine that would put him on the golden throne he had kept to himself, for he was, at the last, Tsurani. But today he was shaken to the fibre of his being, for today was his first day ruling the High Council in the Emperor’s name, and today he had left the Emperor’s retreat on the old Acoma estates, where over a long breakfast the Light of Heaven had told him things no sane man could hear without being shaken. He had been given a mandate by the Emperor and no matter what fantasies of ambition had filled his nights, he put them aside in the light of day, for he was, at the last, Tsurani.