Seven Sorcerers(140)

You gave your life to save mine.

You could not know that no arrow can slay me.

You died for nothing. Nothing but loyalty.

“I already have,” said D’zan.

Andolon grabbed his King’s hand, sticky with blood. He squeezed it with the last of his strength. “I have loved Cymetha… since we were children,” he wheezed. “I could not forget her when… she went to the palace. I have betrayed you…”

“And saved me,” said D’zan.

Let him believe this. It might have been so.

Andolon smiled through his tears. “You are a great King…” He gasped and coughed blood. His flesh grew paler by the moment. “Promise me… that you will not slay the boy. Exile him… give him to the temples… but let him live.”

D’zan nodded.

“Promise me!” Andolon’s red fingers clutched D’zan’s shoulder, the final spasm coming.

“Theskalus will live,” said D’zan.

Andolon’s head fell back against the deck. His blue eyes were dull glass.

D’zan would never know if the young lord heard his promise.

A King must have an heir.

The funeral of Andolon Silver was a grand affair, and his statue erected in the palace courtyard was of purest white marble. Cymetha wept as D’zan had never seen her weep. He knew her heart was broken. He comforted her as best he could.

The following week he conducted the ceremony that raised her officially to the status of First Wife and Queen of Yaskatha. In the years that followed, he would take many more wives. They too would bear him children: sons and daughters who looked nothing at all like their royal father. Yet only Theskalus mattered to the masses, for he was the first-born heir to the throne.

D’zan saw Andolon in the boy more and more as he grew, yet the King never spoke of the young lord to any of his wives or children. One day D’zan would teach Theskalus the ways of the sword, the spear, and the arrow. Yet he would also insist that the brightest of sages tutor the boy in diplomacy, commerce, and philosophy.

Theskalus would make a clever Prince and a wise King.

Yaskatha deserved no less.





23


The Living Empire


The contents of the messenger’s scroll made Sungui’s eyes water. His fingers trembled and his female aspect rushed from within to take command of the body. Men should be allowed to weep as openly as women, yet somehow the act always sent his male aspect into hiding as if ashamed of its sorrow. As the metamorphosis finished, she held the ink-scrawled parchment to a candle flame and watched it shrivel.

The first casualties of enlightenment.

There were bound to be more.

Since Sungui had returned from the Land of the Five Cities a year ago, the reformation of the Living Empire had proceeded with hardly an impediment. The millions of families in the Outer and Inner Provinces had been dreaming of such a day, pining for freedom in the midst of oppression, worshipping the old Gods in secret, and praying to them for change. At first Sungui had felt ashamed. Her fellow High Seraphim had never seen this hidden desperation that permeated the empire, never heard the whispers of hope that refused to fade. Yet the shadow of Zyung had blinded all of his servants, even those who stood highest among them.

News of the Almighty’s death had spread from the Holy Mountain like a storm. A day of fear and dread fell across the Celestial Province, while the Inner Provinces remained quiet and the Outer Provinces held blasphemous celebrations. A fleet of dreadnoughts had traveled to every corner of the empire, and the mere presence of the sky-ships had quelled distant revelries.

The New Seraphim agreed that Sungui should serve as High Consul of the Senate that replaced Zyung’s rule. During their journey back across the world they had drafted a charter for this new form of governance: Rule of the many by the select few. The Holy Mountain itself would be the seat of this parliament, and its holy shrine would become a hall given to legislative action. The Lesser Seraphim were affirmed as enforcers of Senate law across the length and breadth of the empire. This was not so different from their duties under Zyung, yet their titles and methods would change.

Sungui spoke from the great terrace three days after the Holy Armada’s return. She confirmed the news of Zyung’s passing and announced the sweeping reforms that would forever alter his empire. First, all slaves were granted freedom; the Slave Estate was immediately blended with the Earthbound Estate. The Lowblood Estate, composed of non-human and semi-human individuals, was also elevated to Earthbound status. All labor performed in the empire must be rewarded with fair wages, according to imperial laws and local statutes. These were delivered at the hands of the Lesser Seraphim, who were now called Magistrates. The penalties for slaveholding in the Reformed Empire were heavy and unpleasant; the wealthy would be stripped of titles and holdings if they failed to comply.