“And,” said Iaachus, “the empire becomes, in essence, barbarian.”
“Alemanni,” said Otto.
“Beasts, unrestrained, befouling temples, swarming in sacred precincts,” said Julian.
“Already,” said Iaachus, “this is the fate of more than one world.”
“Imperial fleets should arrive shortly,” said Julian.
“And find no trace of Abrogastes, save in Telnar,” said Otto.
“The game is not done,” said Julian.
“No, it is not yet done,” said Otto.
“Remove those slaves,” said Iaachus. “Filthy, tunicked sluts have no place here, where emperors receive ambassadors and hold court.”
“Yes, Lord,” said a courtier.
“Wait!” said Iaachus. “Why does that slave conceal her features?”
Cornhair, her hair about her face, put her head down, to the tiles.
“Get her head up, where I may see her!” said Iaachus.
The courtier put his hand in her hair, and yanked her head up, and held it back, tightly, far back.
Iaachus rushed forward, and stopped.
“You!” said Iaachus.
“Forgive me, Master!” said Cornhair.
“Obviously she failed,” said Julian, “to assassinate my friend.”
“It seems you know a great deal, friend Julian,” said Iaachus.
“Enough, Arbiter,” said Julian.
“I think you would find it difficult to expose me and have me executed,” said Iaachus.
“Certainly,” said Julian. “Evidence is muchly lacking. And what exists would be challenged, or discounted. Too, I have little doubt that your plan, if disclosed, would have been supported by certain elements in high places, as judicious, warranted statecraft.”
“Covert actions are sometimes in order,” said Iaachus.
“Doubtless,” said Julian.
“Perhaps you will now attempt to arrange another assassination,” said Iaachus, “one which might prove more successful.”
“One in your position is always in danger,” said Julian.
“And perhaps one in yours,” said Iaachus.
“I would prefer you as an ally, not as an enemy,” said Julian.
“That may not be wise,” said Iaachus.
“Perhaps not,” said Julian.
“You came here to kill me,” said Iaachus.
“No,” said Julian. “I came here in good faith, as I said, and, as I said, to inform and be informed. I hoped that we might consult together, perhaps enleaguing ourselves, to the benefit of the empire.”
“You have designs upon the throne,” said Iaachus.
“If so,” said Julian, “only to save the empire. The emperor is a mindless child.”
“Was he always so?” asked Otto.
“That is a strange question,” said Iaachus.
“I ask it,” said Otto.
“From an early age, surely,” said Iaachus.
“Who governs?” asked Otto.
“Essentially the empress mother,” said Iaachus.
“But you advised, you had her ear,” said Julian.
“Once,” said Iaachus. “I fear not now.”
“She now attends to the Exarch of Telnar?” said Julian.
“I fear so,” said Iaachus.
Iaachus then turned to the slaves. “Take those four away, those on the neck rope,” he said. “They have collars. It should be easy to return them to their Masters. If there is any difficulty, sell them.”
“Yes, Lord,” said a courtier, and led the small coffle away.
Iaachus then turned to Cornhair.
“Release her hair,” he said.
The courtier removed his hand from Cornhair’s hair, and she thrust her head to the tiles at Iaachus’ feet.
“Lady Publennia,” said Iaachus.
“I am not Lady Publennia, Master,” she said. “I am a slave.”
“What is your name, slave?” he asked.
“Whatever Masters wish,” she said.
“What were you most recently called?” he asked.
“‘Cornhair’, Master,” she said.
“That is a good name for you,” he said, “given the particular shade of your blond hair.”
“Thank you, Master,” she said.
“You seem considerably different from when I last saw you,” he said.
“I am a slave, Master,” she said.
“Are you marked?”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
He then bent down and pulled up the brief tunic, at her left side.
“Nicely marked,” he said. “Tastefully.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“Unmistakably.”
“Yes, Master.”
“You have no collar,” he said.
“It was taken,” she said.
“I was told,” he said, “that your colleagues were unable to extricate you from the imperial camp on Tangara.”
“They made no effort to do so,” she said.
“They left you to the mercy of Otungs,” he said.
“Yes, Master.”
“I was informed you were successful in your mission,” he said.
“I failed, Master,” she said. “Those who abandoned me, whom you call my colleagues, doubtless presumed I had succeeded, or would succeed, in my task.”
“They fled.”
“Yes, Master.”
“I am surprised you were not tortured and slain,” said Iaachus.
“I owe my life to Captain Ottonius,” she said. “I was spared, to be sold. I was sold for a pig to Heruls.”
“I did not know you failed until this afternoon,” said Iaachus.
“Others doubtless knew, Arbiter,” said Julian. “Captain Ottonius was actively engaged in recruiting, and training, allies. There was, too, doubtless communication between Tangara and Telnaria, probably through the Floonian enclave in Venitzia, the provincial capital on Tangara. I can well understand the dismay on the part of those you call her colleagues when they realized that Captain Ottonius lived, particularly following, I suppose, their assurances to you that the deed had been successfully completed.”
“Much was kept from me,” said Iaachus.
“They must live in terror,” said Julian, “knowing that the truth, which is publicly known, which is widely known, must, sooner or later, come to your attention.”
“Today it has,” said Iaachus, “and much else has become clear, as well.”
“What shall we do with this slave, Lord?” asked the courtier who stood near Cornhair, he who had held her head up, that her features might be exposed to the inspection of the Arbiter.
“What shall be done with you, slave?” inquired Iaachus.
“It will be done with me as Masters please,” she whispered.
“You tremble,” said Iaachus.
“Forgive me, Master,” she said.
“You are well tied, are you not?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” she said. “I am helpless.”
“Then,” said he, “get up, run, flee, hasten, go, out into the city.”
“Master?” she said.
“Have no fear,” he said. “You will not be mistaken for a free woman.”
Cornhair bent down and thrust her lips to the Arbiter’s shoes, kissed them, several times, weeping, half hysterical with gratitude, and then sprang up and ran from the chamber.
“The Arbiter is merciful,” said Julian.
“It is not important,” said Iaachus. “She is only a slave.”
“How did the father of the emperor die?” asked Otto.
“What does it matter?” asked Julian.
“I am curious,” said Otto.
“Poison,” said Iaachus. “And his father, the grandfather of Aesilesius, by assassination.”
“Such things in the empire,” said Julian, “are not unusual. The corridors in which power walks are often dark.”
“I think,” said Otto, “I will visit the emperor.”
“Why?” asked Julian.
“To pay my respects,” said Otto.
“On what grounds?” asked Iaachus.
“As king of the Otungs,” said Otto.
“Take a toy,” said Julian.
“I do not think so,” said Otto.
“I do not understand,” said Julian.
“A king does not bring a toy to an emperor,” said Otto.
He then turned away.
“Hold, dear Ottonius,” said Julian.
Otto paused.
“I have a question for the Arbiter,” said Julian. “I would like for you to listen.”
“I listen,” said Otto.
Julian then turned to Iaachus. “Who, dear friend,” said he, “is in charge of the city batteries?”