We passed into the interior of the front hall that led to the domed sections further in. The grey and pink marble walls were broken up by large windows with latticed screens of mahogany, and stone benches between matching copper urns, and as we walked down the broad hall, I couldn’t help but notice that the building was mostly empty, except for some dusty workers we passed.
I said, “I take it with the work being done, this place will be-”
“Deserted,” the captain replied. “I expect that was no accident.”
The hall ended and we entered what must have been one of the smaller domed rooms. The entirety of the inside of the domed ceiling was painted, and while some murals were cracked and badly in need of repair, they were still magnificent, and the apse at one end no less so, with spectacular mosaics and paintings, grottos with Syldoonian champions from ages past, mullioned windows with stained-glass depictions of battles, gardens, a profusion of animals, scholars, priests, merchant princes, and so much color it was dizzying. The entire room had an epic grandeur, speaking of conquest and artistry, rebellions and subtle line and contour, excess and so much exquisite detail it was stunning.
Another short hall and then we came to three wide arched openings. We stepped through, and even realizing we were entering the large central domed portion of the building, I still wasn’t prepared for the immensity of the space. We passed towering bleachers, and my eyes were immediately drawn up. While the hippodrome was colossal, it was open to the air, whereas the dome was not. Well, mostly. At its highest point, several hundreds of feet up, there was a sizable circular section open to the sky, and several portions of the dome had panels of stained glass with the scenes and characters writ large enough to make out from so far below, where the entirety of the space was flooded with alternating color and shadow.
The floor changed from marble to parquet, alternating squares of dark and light wood, and it was only then I noticed that the interior wasn’t completely deserted. A figure was sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of the floor, with three figures standing behind. I was also surprised to see that there were some acrobats practicing, two of them dangling in the air from what looked like two long ribbons suspended from some apparatus on the ceiling, though the acrobats were well out of earshot. And then I saw the Imperial Syldoon further back on all sides, in the shadows against the walls, backs to the endless murals and statues that rimmed the entire room.
Commander Darzaak slapped his meaty hands on his thighs. “Well, let’s get this over with.” He started for the center.
Braylar said, “I always enjoy a private audience. So very quaint and personal.”
We followed the Commander across the floor toward the group, and though hardly shocking, it became clear that seated figure was Emperor Cynead, and the three standing were the Memoridons Rusejenna, Soffjian, and Skeelana.
The Emperor was leaning back in his chair, and he had given up the white (and no doubt filthy) cloak, but otherwise was dressed the same as he had been a short time ago in the hippodrome, in rich cloth, but nothing ostentatious. Even his plaque belt of alternating sunbursts and leopard heads was fairly subdued. You might have thought we were meeting a rich merchant and not the leader of the greatest empire in the world.
“Welcome, men of Jackal Tower. I do appreciate you meeting me on such short notice and,” he gestured about the huge empty dome, “in such an unusual locale.”
Commander Darzaak bowed slightly, though not so much as I would have expected. “Begging your pardon, Your Imperial Majesty, but I don’t imagine we had much choice in the matter.”
Cynead laughed, rich, unforced, the sound of a man clothed in more power than any one person should possess. “I must say, Commander Darzaak, it is such a wonderfully ironic pleasure to see one of the most cunning and duplicitous Towers led by a man so extraordinarily direct.”
Darzaak bristled, his thick jaw clenched tight enough threaten his own teeth. “Again, begging your pardon, but surely you didn’t summon us here simply to dart insults at us. I mean, you could have done that anywhere, and probably enjoyed it more with a big audience in the Citadel. So, seeing as how you value directness, maybe you’d like to engage in some. Why are we here?”
Cynead crossed his legs, leaned back further, tapped his chin twice and looked at Rusejenna, laughing again. “You see. I told you this wouldn’t take all that long.” He turned back to Darzaak. “You are correct, we are not in the Citadel for a reason. There are many ears, and here,” he surveyed the Circus Dome, and I looked past him and the Memoridons, to the acrobats in the far distance. “It is only us. Perhaps one of the few places in this teeming city where that is the case.”
The Emperor shifted and faced Braylar. “So then, in the interest of directness, let’s begin with you, shall we, Captain Killcoin? Word on the wind is you have been quite the busy adventurer in Anjuria.”
I expected Braylar, gifted liar that he was, to delay, distract, or downplay, but perhaps following his Commander’s lead, he said, “I have indeed, Your Majesty. All in the name of Empire.”
“Ahh, yes. But of course. The question remains though, whose Empire?”
The captain didn’t falter in gaze or delivery. “Why, Lord Emperor, I do hope it was in the cause of every member of the Empire, great and small.”
Emperor Cynead slapped his thigh. “Yes, see, this is the manner of directness I am more accustomed to. Sly and self-serving. But as much as I enjoy the dance, I will follow your good Commander’s lead and mince no further. You were in Anjuria carrying out Thumaar’s initiatives-” Commander Darzaak started to speak, but Cynead overrode him. “Do not dare interrupt your Emperor, especially only to beg pardon you shall not be granted. They were Thumaar’s, there is no disputing that. At the time, I allowed you to, so they defaulted to mine, and I’m not especially concerned with ownership there, but with what else you were doing in the region.”
Commander Darzaak waited to be sure he wasn’t interrupting, and then said, “Captain Killcoin was there following orders. Which you endorsed.”
“Yes, yes, to be sure.” He looked over his shoulder. “And what else was the leal captain doing in the kingdom, Rusejenna?”
She grinned, vulpine. “Oh, he was trying to do what you were, Your Majesty, only slower and more clumsily.”
Emperor Cynead smiled and nodded. “I suspected as much before. There were a few factions who were searching for the secret to mastering the Memoridons.” He waited for protests or hot denial, but getting none, continued. “Oh, yes, I know of your little excursions to libraries and crypts and other dusty holds. That much has been confirmed. And while I sympathize with your covert efforts to research ways of controlling the Memoridons, obviously guilty of it myself, only more efficient, I am well within my rights to invoke the Fifth Man. You broke fealty by conducting the research without informing me, as it violates one of the most basic tenets, the Memoridon Doctrine, codified almost from our inception.”
Darzaak started to speak but Cynead overrode him. “Yet there is more. Your man there, Commander Darzaak, broke into a tomb and looted a memory weapon out of our mystic past, but did not report it. That same man enlisted the aid of rogue witches in order to cure himself along the way, again in direct violation of the Doctrine. And when I recalled him from Anjuria, instead of opting to obey immediately, he and his little band chose instead to scurry across the kingdom on their own initiative. And it is known the Jackals have endured my reign, but never supported it.”
Cynead nodded. “Yes, I would be well within my rights to invoke the Fifth Man. Other Emperors have done so for far less. The only reason I have not already is that today has been tumultuous. The Towers are surely going to have a rough adjustment to the loss of their Memoridons. I don’t want to make the transition more burdensome by an alarming proclamation of the Fifth. But if it comes to it, it might serve as a good example just now. How we proceed will depend all on you. But thanks to a well-placed informant, I at least know what my tricky Towers have been up to.”