Down to the Sea

EIGHT

The night was fetid with the oppressive heat of summer. The poor quarter of the city, as always, stank of unwashed bodies, rotting food, refuse, excrement, and a moldy, musty smell that seemed to cling to poverty no matter what the race, be they human or Kazan.

Hazin, flanked by his escort, negotiated the narrow twisting alleyways that led from his temple to the base of the Qutiva, the hill of the Imperial presence. The temples of his order, at least those in the cities of the empire, were always built in the poorest quarters, for it was thence that so many novitiates came. Desperation guided them to seek salvation, no matter what price was required.

The Green Gate, so named for its sheathing of pale green marble, came into view. The alleyway spilled into the Processional Way, the great boulevard that was the main axis of the city, running from the Qutiva down to the harbor, half a league below.

Looking to the south as he stepped out on to the main avenue, he could see the flickering lights of the Red fleet riding at anchor. The great ships of the line were festooned with hundreds of lanterns in celebration of the victory. The entire city was thus decorated, though Hazin knew that the celebration was not so much one of joy but of relief for having been spared yet another battle, for when emperors fall there is always a battle and, at times, a massacre. The mob that had only weeks before been so supportive of Hanaga were now relieved by the news that he was dead.

At Hazin’s approach, the crowds clogging the Processional Way parted, drawing back with averted eyes and bows. A few made subtle gestures to ward off the darkness or clutched the amulets of rival cults.

The guards flanking the open portals of the Green Gate offered the usual salute at his approach, but then one of them stepped before his standard bearer, demanding identification. Hazin stood in silent rage as an assistant fumbled in his haversack for the necessary papers bearing the Imperial Seal.

“I see here only a request for the presence of Grand Master Hazin Vaka,” the commander of the guard announced, “nothing concerning an honorary escort.”

A scene now ensued, the argument dragging on for several minutes. The assistant indignantly argued that no master should walk without an escort. The commander of the guard replying that the imperial escort was sufficient. It was obvious what was being played out, and finally Hazin stepped forward.

“Ilvani, wait here,” Hazin said softly. He fixed the captain with his gaze. “Your name.”

“Ragna, captain of the Green Gate”-he hesitated the briefest of moments-“Your Holiness.”

“You will be in my thoughts, Ragna,” Hazin replied with a cool smile, and the captain, though trying to maintain a calm exterior, blinked, eyes lowering.

Hazin smiled. This one knew he was dead, orders or no orders from the emperor. The touch of a courtesan armed with a finger needle that would barely scratch the skin would be enough, or a powder slipped into a tavern drink. Wait awhile, though, let him contemplate, let him learn fear, then manifest the fear before killing him.

Imperial guards flanked him. There was no chair waiting, and he said nothing. The approach to the palace zigzagged up the steep hill, passing the villas of the lesser nobles, court officials, who now anxiously awaited their fate with a new emperor of the throne, and chosen consorts of the bed chamber, the place of each palace on that hill in direct relationship to their favor or disfavor of the moment. At each turn gun positions were cunningly laid out, often concealed behind finely wrought stonework, or small pleasure gardens, guards barely visible in recessed alcoves. The muzzle of a land cruiser was barely visible, hidden inside a stone arched stable. Several light fieldpieces, ready to be rolled out at an instant’s notice, were parked in a courtyard.

The place had been a fortress only a month ago, manned by ten thousand of the elite imperial assault troops. They had sworn allegiance to the new emperor without a moment’s pause, for what was the use of dying for someone who was dead? They were gone now, back to their barracks on the far side of the island. All that was left were the Imperial Guard-gilded fools in Hazin’s eyes. A hundred of his Shiv could take them in an hour if he so desired.

Turning the final corner of the Processional Way, he was disgusted to see that the inner gate was closed. Nor was there a banner of the Order displayed to mark his arrival. This outrageous oversight caused him to again look at the captain, who stood impassive, except for a slight twitching of his jaw.

The gate finally swung open, and he passed beneath the archway and into the outer courtyard, where a chamberlain, a gelded one, awaited and silently pointed the way, a whiff of costly perfume trailing in his wake.

They passed through the outer audience chamber, where the ceremonial holding of judgments took place on the first day of the new moons, a ritual harkening back across thousands of years when the emperor was no more than a rude clan elder in a felt tent. It was nothing more than a farce play now, already scripted as to who would be sent to the circle and who would leave with hide still intact.

At last the meandering tour through the outer rings of the palace, past cautious observers and whispering nobility, gave way to the inner circle, the private domain of Emperor Yasim. The chamberlain opened the door, then stepped backward, eyes averted.

Hazin strode in.

Yasim was alone, standing on a veil-draped balcony, goblet in hand, back turned. Hazin knew that the room was double walled, cunningly designed and inspected daily by the chamberlain so that no eunuch of the court could get close enough to eavesdrop on what was being said.

Hazin did the proper bow, right hand touching the floor.

“A drink to refresh you, Hazin.”

His voice was relaxed, betraying the slightest touch of the narcotic malva, a perceptive sniff of the air catching its pungent scent. Hazin looked over to a side table. A few light snacks were arranged, fresh slivers of meat, clean goblets of wine, and fermented milk.

As he took an empty goblet, he quickly looked for any abrasions, or slick spots that might indicate dried poison. It was a tiresome game and he doubted the emperor would ever be so direct, but a lifetime of training always prevailed.

Years of slowly increasing self-administered doses of most of the common and several of the preferred uncommon poisons had built a certain immunity. Combined with the oils he had drunk prior to coming here, he should be proof against a clumsy effort by anyone other than the emperor who might make the attempt and thus hope to pin blame on the imperial household.

He took several slivers of raw meat, poured a few ounces of blood, and stepped out onto the veranda.

A cooling breeze was coming down off the mountain, sweeping away the choking heat and stench of the summer’s day.

“You are well?”

“Yes, sire.”

Yasim turned, cool eyes appraising as Hazin sipped his drink.

“Frankly, it is a surprise to see you alive.”

Hazin smiled.

“My last communication with your Grand Master, or should I say your late, lamented Grand Master, was most interesting.”

“Please enlighten me, sire.”

“The cost of my victory at Ra was dear, very dear.” Hazin wanted to laugh. “My victory…” It was the Order that had given him victory. This fool had simply footed the bill. Fifteen assassinations, the turning of the Greens through the threat of a genocidal attack on their families and, above all else, the death of Hanaga, which had cost more than anyone had ever been willing to pay.

“Your order is expecting the second half of the payment by tomorrow.”

Hazin smiled. Direct, far too direct. It almost took the amusement out of the game.

“And, my sire?”

Yasim turned away. “How did you survive, may I ask?”

“The battle or my return?”

“The battle. The death of my brother is of far more interest than the internal squabbling of your precious society.”

Ah, so he is linking things together here, Hazin thought, his features revealing nothing.

“Easy enough. The captain of the frigate I arrived on, he was of my order.”

“Tell me, how many captains of my ships are of your order?”

Hazin looked down in the goblet, swirling the drink. The blood was still warm from the body it had been drawn from in the next room, as was the meat. An emperor could afford such a luxury, meat bred for texture and taste, the blood slowly tapped out from an open vein as required.

“The cost of such information, Your Highness,” and he shook his head.

“How about a trade, then?”

“Yes?”

“You leave here alive, I know who of my ship’s captains are of your order.”

Hazin smiled. “Too high. The bargain would be known, and then who would trust me or my order? I would be dead in a fortnight. There have been Grand Masters who have had reigns nearly as short, but I would prefer not to establish such a record.”

“So you prefer not to leave here alive? Know that it is obvious that your Grand Master preferred that you die in that last battle. That is why he personally gave to you the task of killing my brother.”

“That was obvious,” Hazin said dryly. “And that is why he is dead.”

Yasim turned away, going over to a sideboard where he picked up an ornately carved statue. It was a delicate creation in ivory, an abstract work of intricate swirls and curves. Hazin recognized it as one of the new school of Davin, an artist who had gained imperial favor of late. He wondered if Davin would still be in favor a moon from now.

“This took a year to create,” Yasim said softly, hands gently cradling the work. He sighed, holding it close for a moment then turning it over, lightly stroking it, fingers tracing the intricate design, then placed it back on the table.

“May I inquire as to the reason for my summoning?” Hazin ventured.

Yasim smiled. “There are times when you are the personification of subtlety, and then other times when you are as direct as the thrust of a dagger. Patience.”

Hazin returned to the table where the drinks were and poured another goblet full of the fresh blood. This time he sprinkled in a mixture of spices and a dark, heavy liqueur laced with a touch of malva.

The emperor smiled. “I did not know you indulged.”

“When it suits me.”

“And it does not dull you?”

“It does not dull. Your Highness. And besides, we of the Order are used to headier stuff.”

“I know.”

Hazin returned to the curtained veranda. The silky gauze was sheer enough that the view of the city was spread before them, the twinkling lights of the city below, the open harbor where the fleet lay at anchor.

From the temple of Ashva a dark pyre of smoke curled- their burnt offering for the day-while from the rival order of Vishta a brilliant fire blazed atop their pyramid temple. In the firelight he could see the writhing forms, their shrieking cries of agony carrying on the wind.

He wrinkled his nose with disgust at such primitive barbarity, made worse by the fact that the contemptible fools actually believed that there was a purpose to such sacrifices, that their idols desired the blood of human sacrifice. It served its purpose, though, for it kept his own in line. To be cast out of the Shiv was to be placed into the hands of one of half a dozen of the other cults.

It was such a delightful, intricate swirl of intrigue that gave purpose to life: the religious orders, the houses of the nobility, the eternal quest for dominance. He could not imagine a world without such interplay taken to the edge, for each maneuver held within it life or death. To dance upon the edge of the abyss, to cast one’s foes into that abyss, to at times see them fall while blessing your name, never realizing that you were the one who destroyed them was the thrill of existence.

“You still have not reacted to what I have said,” Yasim said softly, coming up to Hazin’s side. “Your Grand Master wanted you to die. Why did you wait till after you had fulfilled the contract to kill him? Why not before?”

Ah, so here was an inner fear, Hazin realized. For twenty years I stood by Hanaga’s side, yet killed him without hesitation. He wonders why I did not turn and take the Grand Master first. He knows that if I had, Hanaga would be alive today and it would be he who was dead.

“I could not refuse the order of my master to assassinate your brother. It was a contract, and it was binding. To strike such blood required the highest of our own order, not a lowly initiate or brother. Only a master should slay one of the royal line, and then only by the blade.”

It was such a ridiculous lie, and yet he could see that Yasim almost believed him.

“Why my family tolerates you, Hazin, has been an open question of late. Many say that your order should be destroyed while there is still time.”

“Would Your Highness desire such?”

Yasim looked over at him warily.

“There are fifty million of our race in your empire,” Hazin announced dryly. “Another twenty million or more human slaves. Did you ever wonder how many of them might be of the Order?”

“It is a question of regular debate,” Yasim replied. Hazin smiled. “I can assure you that if you struck tonight, if all the other cults joined you, if you could keep it a secret and fall upon all our temples in one blinding flash, still thousands would survive, and you know what they would do.”

“Are you threatening me?” Yasim asked quietly, looking over the rim of his goblet as he took another sip of his drink.

“Is it not the other way around, Your Highness?” Hazin replied coolly.

Yasim turned away. “What of this encounter that was reported to me?”

“Which encounter, Your Highness? There have been so many these last few days.”

“This ship you destroyed while fleeing the battle.”

Hazin laughed. “Majesty, I did not flee. When your brother met his gallant demise in the explosion that destroyed his flagship,” and he smiled, “I was blown overboard and rescued by a frigate. The ship I was on flew the colors of the Blue Banner. To linger while your fleet closed would have been foolish bravado.” To reply with the official story regarding Hanaga’s death amused him and clearly frustrated Yasim.

“Foolish bravado, Hazin. Something you were never noted for.”

“Those with bravado rarely live. Let my initiates show such traits. It is expected of them, not of me.”

“You avoid the question, though. Tell me of the human ship. They were of these rebellious humans, the envoy to the Bantag reports.”

“Who told you?”

Now it was Yasim’s turn to laugh.

So someone within his ranks was in the pay of the emperor. Why would he tell me? Why would he betray one of his own? Was it an offering of some kind?

“Actually, the ship was inconsequential,” Hazin stated, turning the goblet in his hand so that the gems caught the lamplight and flickered.

“Oh, really? I would not call a force that destroyed three of the northern Hordes to be inconsequential.”

“The ship is what I was referring to, not what it represents.”

“The ship, then.”

“It was primitive, what little we could see of it in the dark. Heavily reliant on sail, though it was under steam when we met it.”

“Its guns?”

“One hit only. The damage to our aft turret was minimal. It barely penetrated the turret’s armor, and that was at less than a thousand paces. The size of it was about the same as our frigate.”

“Do they have anything larger?”

Does he know we sent spies? Hazin wondered. The operation had been very secretive.

“I doubt it, Your Highness. This is the third vessel like this that has been taken, nothing bigger. I believe it is all they can produce.”

Yasim walked over to his desk, an ornate affair in the style of Subuta, which had enjoyed a resurgence ever since the Emperor Hanaga had expressed interest in the school. Yasim produced a bound report bearing the imperial seal and held it up.

“These are the reports from the minister of ambassadors. I assume your spies already have obtained a copy.”

Hazin smiled and said nothing. Half the ministers of court gave copies to his order before they even reached the hands of the emperor, at the start for payment, but after a while out of fear of what would happen if they ever stopped.

“According to what we have learned from the Bantag, this human rebellion in the north started with half a thousand who came through a Portal,” Yasim said while casually leafing through the pages.

“Within two years they fielded an army, and not just an army, but with it the creation of steam-powered machinery to manufacture weapons and support their effort. The Tugars were defeated, followed by the Merki and finally the Bantag, each of them stronger and more advanced than the last.

“The Bantag developed steam machinery as well, the art of it learned from the captives taken by the Merki and traded. By the end of the war both sides had flyers, land cruisers, iron ships, rapid-fire guns, telegraphs, all of these things unknown to the northern world only twenty years before.”

Hazin nodded as if this information actually was anything new.

“We have been too preoccupied, Hazin, with our own affairs.”

“When the fire is in your kitchen, Your Highness, one does not think of what his neighbor is cooking.”

“Do you think these humans have control of a Portal?” The question caught Hazin off guard, but he quickly recovered. Did they in fact control such a thing and the emperor knew it?

“I doubt it.”

“Why?”

“Because if they did, they would be far more advanced. No one can control a Portal. It is beyond us and will remain beyond us for generations to come.”

The emperor looked at him with a crafty smile. “The dream of your order, isn’t it? If they had a Portal, you would already be there and controlling it.”

Hazin’s features remained impassive. Again, he wondered who was the traitor in his ranks. A Portal was the holy of holies of his order; the path to power, the path to the stars. It was the legendary Kalinvala, who had come through a gate more than two hundred years ago, who had transformed the Kazan from ignorance to all that they now had, and who had founded his order. Finding a Portal was the ultimate goal that he had established for them, shrouded in religious mysticism in order to control the ignorant.

“You know that the leader of the Bantag, the one called their Qar Qarth, came through a Portal.” As he spoke, the emperor nodded toward the report.

Again Hazin was silent. Of course he knew. Did this one take him for a fool? And the Qar Qarth was ignorant of how it worked or why he had come here. The information he had of his world was useful enough, it was the same world as Kalinvala’s, though far more advanced across the hundreds of years, but unlike Kalinvala, the Qar Qarth had little technical knowledge, only general information, though the information was intriguing enough, especially when it came to a weapon that could annihilate entire cities. To obtain such a thing would be a dream.

“So what do you advise regarding this human rebellion, this nation they call the Republic?” the emperor asked.

Hazin shifted, looking back out over the city so that the emperor could not see him smile. “Crush it.”

“Why? They are no threat. We’ve endured twenty years of war for control of this throne, and it is finished. Other issues here are far more pressing. In five years, ten, perhaps then.”

Issues here, Hazin thought. Such as turning on my order. “In ten years they might be the ones coming to dictate terms to us,” Hazin replied. “Realize as well that their existence has been kept a secret even from our own people. If word ever got back to our slaves of the success of the human rebellion in the north, it could be a threat.”

“The Shiv perhaps. Might they rebel against you?” Hazin laughed. “They are of my order and incorruptible.”

It was the emperor who now laughed. “No one is incorruptible, Hazin. You most of all know that.”

“The Shiv exist because of us, and they know it.”

“Your experiment with them is something that the other orders and even those of the nobility increasingly fear. You are playing with fire.”

“The breeding of a warrior race to do the dying for us? It is an interesting experiment, nothing more. They are chained to us by our selection and by the gods we created for them.”

The emperor shook his head. “The Republic. Answer that.”

“As I said, crush it.”

“And what of the other houses still to contend with if I should divert my attention elsewhere?”

…“Unify through this war, or should I say, this crusade. The Bantag are our brothers. What they are now enduring could happen to us. Tell the other houses that.”

The emperor came to stand by Hazin.

“Crushing them is a small thing, Your Highness, a very small thing.”

“And of course you will lease the troops. Yet more expenses on top of expenses I cannot now afford.”

Hazin smiled. So here at last they were getting to the true purpose of this summons.

“Go on, I am fully attentive, Your Highness.”

“The cost of the victory over my brother was rather excessive.”

“Yet you agreed to the contract.”

“Wouldn’t you in my position?”

Hazin laughed softly. “Your brother set the bid mark, which you had to exceed.”

“Don’t you think I know that? It will bankrupt the throne.”

“Your brother didn’t seem to think so.”

“He never considered such things. I have to.”

“Are we brokering a deal here, Your Highness.”

“I do not broker deals,” came the sharp reply.

“Then let me see if I can surmise the offer. The Grand Master with whom you negotiated with is dead. You agree to my ascension as Grand Master, and in return I forgive the debt owed to my house.”

The emperor said nothing, his gaze fixed on Hazin.

“I could say that I sent the Grand Master to his ancestors out of loyalty to you.”

The emperor smiled sarcastically and Hazin laughed. “Fine, then. The debt can be forgiven. You will declare a holy crusade to aid our beleaguered brothers to the north, revealing what happened to them, declaring your outrage that your brother knew of this but kept it a secret since he was too preoccupied with vying for the throne. Such a declaration will of course cast you in a positive light and at the same time divert attention to a new cause.”

Yasim looked at him warily. “Sometimes you are too cunning, Hazin. In thinking of me, what is it that you seek for yourself?”

“I must have some payment to the Order. To totally forgive the debt, especially after the effort made to secure your throne, would be unforgivable, and I would fall within hours of announcing it. Here is what I propose. We help you to crush the human Republic, you can make payment in part from the loot taken, the money counters of my house will be satisfied, and you shall appear as a liberator.

“Your fractious cousins and countless nephews could be promised fiefdoms vaster than all that you now hold. Offer them new empires and they will fall in line.”

The emperor became more animated, looking over at Hazin with eager eyes.

“Let your cousins weaken themselves. Then, when the time is right, confiscate their lands. Use that as payment and eliminate them at the same time.”

Yasim could not help but smile. “You will make a deadly Grand Master,” he whispered.

“All in service to you, my lord.”

“I’m not so stupid as to believe that, Hazin.”

“Nor am I so stupid as to challenge you. With the unfortunate and untimely death of my old master, I have all that I desire in this world. What need is there for more? Besides, my fate will be linked to yours, and you, sire, are an entity that I know.”

Yasim slowly nodded in agreement.

“Might I therefore suggest that tomorrow you dispatch a fast frigate to the Bantag coast carrying ambassadors and some military advisers? Inform their Qar Qarth that war is about to begin.”

“When?”

Hazim fell silent, as if carefully calculating.

“It’s a long run for the frigate, and a collier will have to follow in its wake to refuel it for the return journey. Give a week for the frigate to reach the Bantag coast, then another week for your envoy and advisers to reach their Qar Qarth. Offer to them full military assistance if they will abandon the reservation they are trapped on and move south to the coast to link up with us.”

“Assistance such as?”

“The Shiv.”

“You would commit them to such a place?”

Hazin smiled inwardly. He knew Yasim would leap upon the offer, believing that the mailed fist behind the Order would thus be directed elsewhere. It showed a weakness of Yasim to react without’ fully contemplating the hidden meanings.

“They, fighting alongside the Bantag, will be a powerful force against the Republic.”

Yasim nodded in agreement.

“The uprising would therefore stir first in the east, diverting the Republic’s attention. Then time the arrival of the fleet to strike along the main coast of the Republic. We know where their main naval base is. Annihilate it in one blow, land your own troops there, and resistance will begin to fall apart.”

“A dangerous time of year to campaign,” Yasim replied, his enthusiasm suddenly cooling. “Storm season. Also, my fleet has been hard pressed. Much needs to be repaired and refitted.”

“Strike hard now,” Hazin said. “In three weeks’ time most of the refitting can be accomplished. If anything, your sailors, your warriors, are at their best. In addition, the campaign will immediately divert attention, consolidating forces that were fighting against one another into a common crusade. It will meld them together. Wait until next year, and that chance might be lost.”

Yasim hesitated, looking over the railing of his balcony to the city below.

Walking across the balcony where the emperor stood, Hazin leaned against the railing. It was shortly past midnight, the end of the most torturous and difficult day he had ever known, and all had fallen into place. Overhead he heard the distant hum of a flyer, faint, almost imperceptible as it drifted northward. He smiled.

A nod from the emperor indicated that agreement had been reached and the audience had ended.

“I’ll pass the necessary orders to begin preparation in the morning.”

“I will see you at the celebration of your ascension, my lord,” Hazin said formally, bowing low. He left the room, gaze lingering for a moment on the chamberlain, the bloated eunuch. He wondered what this one thought. He must know that his days were numbered, that he had been far too loyal to Hanaga.

The eunuch drew closer. “Grand Master,” he whispered. “May I come to your temple tomorrow to speak to you?”

Hazin smiled graciously. “Oh of course, Tugana, of course. Though there is nothing to fear, Yasim even mentioned you in our conversation. Rest assured that your position is safe. I pointed out that your loyalty was to the family and not to Hanaga himself.”

He saw the wave of relief in the poor fool’s eyes.

“But do come anyhow. There is much we can discuss.”

Perhaps it might be worth the effort to ensure this one survived. Then he would be in debt and could be useful.

Hazin followed the eunuch out the side door so that the guests waiting in the outer chamber would not see whom the emperor had been talking to. The captain of the Green Gate waited to escort him out of the compound.

All was playing out as desired. Hazin felt in such a munificent mood that he decided that this captain would not suffer when he died for his insult. A blade no thicker than a wire inserted into the base of the skull by a courtesan of the Order would do the trick. Perhaps even allow him the pleasure of lying with her first as a small gift before death.

Yes, all was unfolding as he had planned. He looked to the North and smiled, wishing Cromwell a safe journey home.