Брайан Макклеллан - Wrath of Empire

“… not to come here yourself. If you want me, send someone for me,” Ichtracia was saying.

Sedial’s voice was a little quieter, but there was a tone of irritated dismissal in his tone that sounded nothing like his public persona. “I’ll visit you whenever I want. Are you worried I’ll walk in on you with whatever slut you’re riding lately?”

Michel nearly gasped at the strength of the language – he couldn’t imagine anyone speaking that way to a Privileged.

Sedial continued. “There’s no one here now, is there?”

“No, there’s no one here,” Ichtracia spat at her grandfather. “You’re the one that’s brought a stranger into my home. Who is this?”

Michel heard someone pacing. It was too slow and deliberate to be Ichtracia, and the sudden rap of a cane punctuated the footsteps. “I’m hearing rumors, Ichtracia, that you’ve taken in that Blackhat spy. I’ll give you one chance to deny them, and all will be forgiven.”

“Forgiven?” Ichtracia mocked. “You have absolutely no say over who I take into my bed.”

“I do when they’re enemy spies.”

“He is a member of Yaret’s Household.”

“Even worse.”

Ichtracia continued as if Sedial hadn’t interjected. “He’s handed most of the city’s Blackhats over to us in a matter of weeks.”

“He forced one of my people to commit suicide in public. Forgula was valuable to me.”

Ichtracia barked a laugh, and Michel briefly entertained himself by imagining Sedial’s face at being mocked openly. “You’re pissed because he outmaneuvered her. Forgula was a bitch, and it was cathartic to finally see her get her dues.” Ichtracia paused briefly, lowering her voice. “You were using enemies of the state to destroy your enemies within the state. You would execute anyone else for trying to do the same.”

“ My enemies weaken the state,” Sedial growled, rapping the floor again with his cane. “Clumsy, foolish ministers like Yaret slow down our progress here.”

“Ministers like Yaret keep the state together.”

“I am the state!”

Michel was once again surprised to hear something like that so boldly stated, but he’d begun to get the impression that this conversation was a continuation of many more just like it. He heard Ichtracia give an angry sigh. “You’re an old man hoping to leave a legacy of something other than blood before death finally claims you.”

“You speak as if a legacy of blood is a bad one.” There was a long silence, and Sedial continued in a softer tone. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

“Then what did you come for?” Ichtracia demanded.

“I came to tell you that you’re needed down south. We have every Privileged in the city working on the stone, and they’ve made very little progress. Your help is sorely needed.”

Michel shifted a half step closer to the stairs, listening carefully as the voices lost some of their heat. Ichtracia replied to her grandfather after a moment’s hesitation. “I have told you before, I will not go near that thing.”

“Even if I give you an order?”

“You are not the emperor, and the emperor made it very clear that I would not be forced to touch the godstone unless it was absolutely vital.”

“It is vital.”

There was another long pause, and Ichtracia laughed again. It was a bitter, venom-filled sound. “You can’t undo what she did, can you?” Sedial did not answer, so she continued. “You have no idea how delicious that is,” she said.

“Watch your tongue.”

“Or what, you’ll pack me off to be tortured? I know what pain is, you old lizard. I’ve had to stand next to you for more than ten minutes at a time, haven’t I?”

Michel lay his head against the wall, eyes wide, wondering if Ichtracia had gotten so angry that she forgot Michel was up here. Surely she had to know he’d be listening? Even if he’d stayed in her room, he would have heard some of this.

Sedial took a measured breath and finally responded. “We will undo her sabotage. It’ll take time, admittedly, but she is not as powerful as she thinks. Her sorcery is fumbling and amateurish, and when I catch her, I will teach her exactly what a bone-eye is capable of.”

“Good luck with that.” Ichtracia’s tone told Michel that she wished Sedial anything but luck.

Another measured breath, taken with the long-suffering air of a man enduring untold indignity. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” Sedial said.

“Doesn’t it?”

“No. You know I love you. You know I’d do anything for my Mara.”

Michel felt every muscle in his body tense at the name. His breathing came short, and he tried to think. It was a name, he was certain. Wasn’t it? A pet name? A reference to something else? It was the first time he’d heard the word used in any way in the Dynize language, and he wondered if perhaps he had just misheard a similar word.

Sedial continued. “I brought you a present, just like I did when you were a little girl.”

Ichtracia snorted, and Michel suddenly remembered the beautiful young woman still standing down there in the room with them. “What is she, a slave?”

“Slave? No, we don’t have slaves in the empire anymore.”

“Then why would she be here by her own will? Surely she’s figuring out right about now that you wouldn’t allow her to live after listening to a conversation like this. Unless she’s one of your spies, of course.”

“Oh, come now. I didn’t purchase her. I purchased the enormous debt that she owes some very bad people down in Greenfire Depths. She has agreed to be your plaything for as long as you want her around, after which you may send her back to the Depths or set her free or whatever you please. She is just your type, isn’t she?”

“You think I want a plaything? How old do you think I am?”

“You always want a plaything. You’ve gone through dozens over the last few years. This one isn’t allowed to talk back to you. I thought you’d find that quite satisfactory.”

“What’s the catch?” Ichtracia sounded like she was considering this offer, and Michel couldn’t quite suppress his horror.

“Must there be a catch?”

“I know you better than anyone, you old lizard.”

Sedial gave the amused harrumph of any elderly relative dealing with a difficult child. “Get rid of the Blackhat. Keep this girl as a gift, and I won’t force you to go help with the godstone.”

There was another long pause, this one nearly a minute, and Michel could hear someone walking around. He imagined Ichtracia doing a circuit around the “offered” woman, examining her like a man might examine a new horse. Ichtracia sniffed. “Do you want me to kill him?”

Michel’s blood ran cold.

“I should make you do it yourself for being such a petulant little bitch. But no. Send him back to Yaret. I’ll deal with him myself in time, but until then I don’t need you mocking me by parading him around on your arm at the clubs and games.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“You’ll take it.”

“Until you are my emperor – may all the heavens prevent that from ever happening – I will not follow your orders. I will consider this offer of yours.”

“Give me an answer soon.”

“Leave the girl.”

Michel imagined the two staring angrily at each other until Sedial suddenly rapped on the floor twice with his cane and left through the front door with a stride that seemed far too strong for a man of his age. Michel waited for just a moment before turning to creep back toward the room. He was stopped by the sound of a sigh.

“Can you talk?” he heard Ichtracia ask.