Sex with another man or indeed relationship with another man, was not uncommon in Sorlost, as it was not uncommon anywhere. Better to say it was not looked down upon in Sorlost, as it could be elsewhere. Plenty of brothel boys and pretty young things who would be more than happy to spend some time with him. Tam Rhyl kept a very lovely young man who accompanied him to banquets and parties, his own grandfather had had a slightly mysterious ‘secretary’ whose role in the household Orhan had only fully understood years after both had died. But two men of equal status publicly acknowledging their relationship? When they were the heads of two great families it was considered almost dangerous. Even though the great families intermarried all the time. Even though the course of action they were currently embarking on had been planned and set in motion during the one period in the last ten years they hadn’t been fucking. Even though he hadn’t wanted Darath to get involved.
There was no way he could keep it from Bil, since Darath had stayed the night and most of the next morning. Quite a lot of Sorlost probably knew by now. Certainly everyone in his household unless they were blind and deaf. And if Bil somehow hadn’t noticed, Celyse would delight in telling her. Her spies would have gone running before they’d even made it into the bedroom. He didn’t want to upset his wife, in her condition. Should have waited until the baby was born.
Should have waited until the Emperor was dead, too. A few days, now, and everything would be so different.
The plan itself was painfully simple. Hire a troop of trained killers, smuggle them into the palace, let them kill everyone inside. Killing the Emperor alone was pointless. The Emperor was a figurehead. It was the Imperial Secretary, the Keeper of the Treasury, the clerk who noted down what the Emperor should be having for breakfast and whether the sun was shining today, that had to be got rid of. The bureaucrats would carry on regardless, whatever the foibles of the current incarnation of the Eternal Eminence, the Ever Living, the Lord of the Dawn Light. Kill the Emperor, in fact, and you ended up with a hapless child on the throne and power only further consolidated in the hands of his servants. To really make any changes, they all had to die. You had to get rid of everyone. Start again.
Tam Rhyl had wanted to do it with their own men at first, a traditional assassination, argued that external help was too risky. But as far as Orhan could see, it was using your own men that was risky. Hiring a mercenary company kept it cleaner, more removed. Easier to bear.
The Sekemleth Empire was dying. A laughing stock. The Immish were arming and could walk across their borders and up to their walls and push them over like a boy kicking sand. It astonished him sometimes that it had not already happened. That the lure of their wealth and weakness hadn’t drawn armies from across Irlast, trampling the Empire under their feet as they squabbled over its broken bones.
But something was coming. He knew it. Couldn’t understand why the whole city didn’t feel it, didn’t awake screaming in fear in the night from the things crawling in the dark. The scent of blood in the air. The Immish arming was part of it, perhaps. Tensions rising. Thoughts of death. They’d never survive, as they were. But they didn’t deserve to die. The people of Sorlost were just people living their lives. Looked at like that, he was a hero, a saviour. Not a murderer and a traitor at all. Not—
‘They seem a capable bunch, you’ll be pleased to hear.’
Darath appeared in the study doorway, followed by an anxiouslooking door keep. Orhan started up from his thoughts, smiled at him and waved the servant away. Happiness sweet as candle-light. Darath came over to kiss him. Orhan clutched at him back, sliding his hands around Darath’s waist. I’m dragging you into this squalor and I’m glad, he thought, because it means you’re here with me. Three years. God’s knives, I’ve missed you.
Perhaps Tam is right, he thought then with a sudden chill. Perhaps I’m only doing this because I needed something to keep me occupied without you. He kissed Darath in return. Began tugging at the fastenings of his clothes. Three years …
‘Alas, no. We need to talk first.’ Darath pushed him off and pulled over a chair. Looked down with interest at the pile of papers on Orhan’s desk. ‘Rewriting your will, Lord Emmereth? That doesn’t strike a particularly reassuring note given current circumstances.’
Orhan sighed. ‘It seemed wise to take precautions.’
‘Really? If this goes wrong, they’ll burn every last member of your household, then raze your estates to the ground and sow the ruins with salt. Whether or not you left a few thalers to the poor or remembered your second cousin’s desire for a particular set of tea bowls will seem somewhat academic at that point, I’d have thought.’
‘No. But still …’ He’d thought of sending Bil away somewhere, but there was nowhere she could go, and it would attract too much comment anyway. It was a curious sensation, that he held the lives of every servant, family member and sycophantic hanger-on balanced in the palm of his hand. Too huge and terrible to think about. Every life. His own and all the people linked to him.
‘We’d best hope it doesn’t go wrong then,’ Darath said cheerfully. He scanned the sheets of parchment. ‘Left me anything? A ring, a token, a lock of your hair?’
‘You’ll be as dead as I am.’ Orhan hurriedly swept the papers away into a box and closed the lid. ‘Which might explain why I hadn’t wanted you to get involved. What do we need to talk about, then?’
‘I just thought you’d like to know how events stand. I met with your friend Skie: he seems a sensible fellow, though one of his lieutenants clearly loathed me on sight. The date is confirmed by all, we just need to finalize the ways in with Tam. They have some money to buy equipment, seemed laughably impressed with the purses I gave them. One forgets how poor the Immish are. You could probably have offered them half what you did.’
‘Yes, well.’ Please, for the love of the God, don’t suggest we ask for a discount at this point. ‘I shouldn’t have let you meet them. You shouldn’t have asked me.’
‘It was fun. I was careful.’
‘Were you?’
‘Better than you would have been. You’d just have got their backs up, looking all guilty and ashamed. You know you would.’
‘Yes, probably, yes …’ Orhan put the box of papers back in a cupboard under his desk, locked the door. ‘Seeing as you’re here: I’ve found a couple of babies that seem suitable. The most promising mother is a congenital idiot, the grandmother likewise, apparently. The father is entirely unknown, but I can’t imagine he was anything physically or intellectually exceptional, given what he was reduced to bedding. The child is due any day now. If it’s a boy, it would be ideal.’
‘You have such a sense of Imperial dignity, Orhan.’