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Temar walked along the path, feeling the sun hot on his back. “Kreve Tor Bezaemar cannot have paid much attention to the lesson.”

The Emperor sighed. “It’d have been better for him if he had. But I’ve no idea what notions dear Dirindal addled his wits with. He’s saying nothing to anyone, not to the Justiciar, not to his visitors, not to his jailers.”

“He will not escape justice, swear that much to me?” Temar caught the Emperor by the arm, courtesy be cursed.

Tadriol looked grim. “He’ll not escape. When the Justiciar has completed his enquiries, the Esquire Tor Bezaemar will face the fairest trial that Tormalin justice can display and thereafter the swiftest execution. Believe me, I’ve had my eye on Kreve, just as my father always suspected Dirindal of some collusion in his brother’s death. Our enquiry agents turn up something to make us suspicious every couple of seasons, but we’ve never’had anything that would stand the test of argument before the courts.”

“Thank you.” The words sounded inadequate to Temar but it was all he could find to say.

“No, thank you.” The Emperor started walking slowly. “That’s one of the reasons I asked you here today, to convey my gratitude. This whole sorry episode has offered me opportunities to do things it might have taken me ten years to achieve. Now I’ve the chance to be the kind of Emperor I want to be, the ruler my uncle would have been.”

“I do not understand,” Temar said cautiously. Now they’d finally reached the substance of this summons he was going to tread very carefully indeed.

“Think about it.” Tadriol stuck his hands in his breeches pockets as they walked. “In putting a stop to those quarrels by making Imperial decrees, I’ve shown everyone I’m no D’Olbriot puppet dancing on the throne while the Sieur stands behind and pulls my strings. That suspicion’s always been the price of his counsel.” He glanced at Temar. “I was chosen as Emperor over my elder brothers because they were already married and deemed too closely committed to their wives’ Names. That was a major concern to the Princes in the Convocation. On the other hand I was reckoned young enough to be easily manipulated, especially by those patrons used to giving the Emperor advice and seeing it taken without question. You’ll come up against attitudes like this sooner or later.”

“I believe I already have,” Temar said drily. He’d learned to expect two visits from any Name he hoped to deal with, one from Designates hopeful he was some simpleton to be gently duped, and one from their Sieurs to talk serious terms.

The Emperor smiled knowingly. “Later, in executing Kreve, I’ll show the commonalty and the merchantry in the plainest way possible that I’m not going to defend noble privilege from the consequences of its actions. That’s something you must take back to Kellarin with you, a sensibility to all your people, from highest to lowest.”

“I was raised in a tradition of far closer ties between noble and humble.” Temar thought he managed to swallow his indignation fairly well. Tadriol could learn a lot more from the Old Empire besides how not to make Nemith’s mistakes.

“I’m only trying to offer advice,” said the Emperor mildly. “My decrees have cut you off from D’Olbriot assistance and I’m concerned that’ll hamstring you. Another reason I asked you here today was to offer my help. Let me know if you need an unbiased appraisal of any House for example, some discreet assessment of merchants you intend dealing with. I understand D’Olbriot’s turned that chosen man of his loose but you’ll need other servants soon enough, especially ones you can trust to manage your affairs on this side of the ocean without you here to keep an eye on them. I can have a Justiciar make enquiries about anyone you’re thinking of swearing to your service.”

“My thanks again.” Temar’s gratitude was unfeigned this time. “I confess I do find the prospect before me daunting.”

“Almost as daunting as my acclamation to the throne, I don’t doubt.” Tadriol took a seat on a bench shaded by a broad-leaved tree. “In some ways, you and I have much in common.”

“Perhaps,” Temar said warily.

“So perhaps we can help each other as we go on,” suggested the Emperor with an innocent air. “Have you managed to retrieve all the artefacts you were seeking?”

“All but a handful, and we believe we know where those are to be found.” Temar couldn’t disguise his relief. “When we have everyone awakened, families reunited, Kel Ar’Ayen will be far better able to look to the future.”

“Good.” The Emperor’s warm approval was unfeigned. “I’ve been meaning to ask, did my ring turn out to be one you needed?”

“No, as it proved.” Temar was a little embarrassed to have to admit this.

The Emperor laughed. “It was a long-odds wager. That was the only heirloom I could find that was sufficiently old and obscure that people might believe it was from Kellarin.”

“I have it here,” Temar worked the heavy silver ring off his finger. “And we cannot thank you enough for that decree.”

“Don’t thank me too much.” The Emperor waved Temar’s offer of the ring away. “That whole business of enchantment, minds lost insensible among the Shades, it was giving me sleepless nights. More seriously, bickering over who held what gem or trinket had the potential to be highly divisive. There’s a lot disturbing the settled order that I can’t influence — new trade, new wealth, new ideas—but that was one wrangle I could settle. I’ll be honest with you, one of the reasons I’ll help you get Kellarin set fair for the future is to make sure your concerns disrupt life here as little as possible. We can afford to hand over jewels and trifles five times the value you’ve claimed; we cannot afford a tenth of this turmoil among the ruling Houses. Keep that ring to remind you.”

“And as a reminder of what we owe you?” ventured Temar.

“That too,” the Emperor agreed blithely. “And as token of my pledge to always deal honestly with you, even when semblance and gesture might run counter to reality. But you’ve unique assistance when it comes to determining truth from sham, haven’t you? I believe Demoiselle Tor Arrial can perform signal service in that regard.”

Here it came, Temar realised, the demand for payment. But wasn’t that how the world had always worked? And settling a debt of coin or honour set a man free, didn’t it? That wasn’t so bad, as long as the price was one Temar was willing to meet. “You’d appreciate some such service in return for all the help you’ve given us?”

“You’ve learned a great deal about the way Toremal works,” the Emperor approved. “Let’s just say I’d appreciate some of the Demoiselle’s time, so she can tell me just what Artifice might offer. I’d welcome a meeting with Demoiselle Guinalle if she ever visits these shores. Artifice held together a Tormalin Empire that reached from the ocean to the Great Forest, and while our boundaries are much reduced our affairs grow more complicated with every passing season. If an Emperor’s duties in your day were largely military my concerns are almost all to do with commerce. It’s my task to keep this great trading vessel on an even keel, balancing privilege and obligation, managing the conflicting interests of high and low alike. If you can offer me some means to help, I’ll owe you more than I can say.”

Temar looked into Tadriol’s eyes but saw nothing but sincerity. “I will discuss it with Avila and Guinalle,” he promised. “But I thought you did not like magic?”

“I don’t like wizards,” the Emperor said firmly. “But that’s a different matter entirely. It’s not their sorcery I mistrust, Saedrin be my witness, though the notion of people flinging handfuls of fire around certainly scares me. Any rational man would fear it. No, what I mistrust is wizards with political ambitions, that man Kalion for one, Hearth-Master or whatever he calls himself. He’s someone else you’d be wise to be on your guard against.”