“Seek safety in the ships!” cried Otto.
Certainly several of those about heeded this recommendation, which was soon, voice by voice, broadcast throughout the compound, rather as Otto had anticipated.
At this point, Otto, Julian, Tuvo Ausonius, and Rurik joined the many merchants, retainers, and domicile slaves bent on reaching the ships, Cornhair, bound, the leash dangling from the leash collar, hurrying behind them.
In the ships there was indeed safety, rather as behind the safety wall in an arena, where bulls and torodonts are hunted.
The advice which Otto had offered to the multitude, it seems, had been sound, and, certainly, happily, it had been well received.
Before boarding, from the boarding ladder leading to the second hatchway, Otto paused and looked back.
The compound was now nearly deserted, save for some soldiers and grooms. Three of the horses were quiet, some men about them. One of the horses was being unharnessed. The fourth horse was more unruly, or skittish, perhaps because of its unforeseen impediment, perhaps not fully understood, an object attached to it by a rope. The horse moved about, skittishly. In a bit, three grooms had managed to turn it about, and close with it, and seize its harnessing. They freed it of its burden, which tried to rise to its feet, stood unsteadily for a moment, and then collapsed into the arms of a groom.
Otto then entered the ship, and the hatch was closed behind him.
Shortly thereafter, about the time several of the merchants, and their fellows, the danger, it seems, now past, were preparing to leave their ships and return to the compound, one ship, to the surprise of many, departed, leaving behind it the fields and forests of lovely Tenguthaxichai.
58
“I had hoped,” said Iaachus, “that you might have been successful, that you might have located and, somehow, rescued the princesses.”
“Our conjecture,” said Julian, “was correct. The princesses were being held on Tenguthaxichai. Unfortunately they were removed before we could make contact with them, let alone attempt their rescue.”
“Now all is lost,” said Iaachus.
“How so?” asked Julian.
“The exarch planned well,” said Iaachus. “It seems that once certain ascertainments were made, rumors were spread that the princesses were on holiday, visiting and sightseeing on various worlds, imperial worlds and some others, others well disposed to the imperium. On this holiday it is claimed they met, were wooed by, and succumbed to the charms of, two mighty princes, both Drisriaks, the Drisriaks being a tribe of the Aatii, or, as they will have it, the Alemanni. This event is being heralded as an ostensible fortuity, in which, by more subtle minds, might be seen the hand of the great god, Karch, one fraught with joyous consequences for a future of peace, order, love, justice, and harmony. Currently the princesses and their swains are the guests of the exarch, while preparations are underway to celebrate the forthcoming nuptials.”
“Preparations?” said Otto.
“Certainly,” said Iaachus. “This is not some simple affair where the bride, clad in scarlet and garlanded, to music and torches, to the intoning of wedding hymns, is led by relatives and friends to the house of the groom. The entire city must be prepared. Avenues must be washed. Buildings on the route of the procession must be repainted. Bunting must be strung, ribbons and banners obtained, and arranged, windows and doors adorned, flowers imported from Inez IV. Musicians must be organized. Ambassadors, officials, and dignitaries must be invited and housed. Consider the catering alone required to feed more than four thousand guests.”
“Surely that will take time,” said Tuvo Ausonius.
“Certainly,” said Iaachus, “but the exarch has that time.”
“Let us,” said Rurik, “strike, seize the princesses, and return them to the palace.”
“That is not practical,” said Iaachus. “To transgress the perimeter of holy precincts would be understood as desecration. Who would risk the outrage of hopeful, deluded millions throughout the empire? Even those who are not Floonians would be aghast. Rebellion would be invited, riots, vandalism. Who dares cheat populations of their anticipated spectacles and holidays?”
“We can act, and justify things later,” said Rurik. “It is often done. It is common statecraft. Too, one can always promise, and provide, new spectacles and holidays, preferably celebrated at the same time, or nearly so, so that populations need not wait. People are not pleased to be cheated of their holidays.”
“Things are not so simple, my noble friend,” said Iaachus. “The army is divided. Corruption is rampant. Amongst high officers there flow dark currents of ambition. Indeed, some suspect our dear friend, Julian.”
“And perhaps one such is the Arbiter of Protocol?” said Julian.
“Perhaps,” said Iaachus.
“Surely our forces are overwhelmingly loyal,” said Tuvo Ausonius.
“Yes,” said Iaachus, “but to whom? To what leader, to what general, to what minister?”
“There might be a thousand loyalties,” said Otto.
“As a barbarian you are well aware of that,” said Iaachus.
“Not all barbarians,” said Julian, “dress in skins, carry axes, and wear necklaces of pierced claws.”
“Intrigues can occur even within the palace,” said Iaachus.
“The seeds of ambition grow well in the soil of power,” said Julian.
“Who can one trust?” asked Tuvo Ausonius.
“We do not even trust one another,” said Iaachus.
“Surely the palace itself is secure,” said Tuvo Ausonius.
“Less secure than the farthest outpost,” said Iaachus. “Both the father and the grandfather of the emperor were slain within the palace, in one coup, or plot, or another.”
“How dreadful for the emperor,” said Tuvo Ausonius.
“The emperor is not even aware of it,” said Iaachus. “The emperor is aware of very little.”
“You, dear Ottonius, have seen the emperor,” said Julian. “Surely you have something to say.”
“No,” said Otto.
“It is madness,” said Julian. “The empire is in peril, and on the throne we find a child, a retarded, drooling boy, terrified of insects, enraptured by the simplest of toys.”
“The empress mother wields power,” said Iaachus.
“A timid, confused, vain old woman,” said Julian.
“Beware you do not speak treason,” said Iaachus.
“So truth is treason?” said Julian.
“Frequently,” said Iaachus.
“I cannot believe the senate will ratify the projected marriages,” said Tuvo Ausonius.
“It will ratify what it is told to ratify,” said Iaachus. “What senator wishes to be the recipient, by means of the royal post, of an imperial dagger?”
“Might it not take a stand?” said Otto.
“The exarch has planned even for that,” said Iaachus. “The senate will be proclaimed to be irrelevant in such matters. It has to do with the alleged superiority of the koos to the fist, or something. The solemnization of marriages, their dissolution and such, is supposed to require, and be invalid without, the officiation of suitable ministrants, interestingly, those of the exarch’s particular faith. They wish to seize power over all forms of life. Indeed, the exarch, again in virtue of the supposed superiority of the koos to the fist, will claim the exclusive right to crown emperors, without which act the coronation will be accounted illegitimate.
“So,” said Julian, “the crown will be bought and sold, and the merchant will be the high ministrant, the Exarch of Telnar.”
“Precisely,” said Iaachus. “All is lost.”
Otto reached within his cloak, and pulled forth an object. With a rattle of chain and metal, the object was flung upon the desk of Iaachus.
“What is that?” asked the Arbiter of Protocol.
“It is an artifact, a medallion and chain,” said Julian. “It was obtained by Ottonius, on Tenguthaxichai, from the hall of Ingeld, the Drisriak, one of the princes involved in the projected marriages.”