Though the gates of the Iron Palace were closed—they were an illustrious affair, all ornately cast bars of gleaming polished metal—the guards looked to the Aura for his permission to enter. One of them nodded quietly and the Emperor’s Blade himself walked across the cobblestones under the wall to open the metal opening for the Walker.
Aralim glanced back at Dullah—she had caught up with him along Iron Way, demanding answers from the prior day’s events. Aralim had given her none, and, though he agreed to meet her later, he left her with a strange warning: “Dullah, you might seriously reconsider your status as heretic…” She stared at him, confused, as he tapped his lantern staff past the Blade.
The eerie blue light cast a strange illumination into the cowl of Karmawn’s cowl. Though the Emperor’s Blade wore an orange-painted visor, the light caught his eyes. Aralim could see a dip in his nose, and the shape of his brow. Karmawn looked nothing like Narr, aside from his stature.
The Aura who had nodded moments ago ushered Aralim across the normally busy courtyard. It was one of the Emperor’s usual private days. Though Aralim had been to the Palace on a few such days, he didn’t think he would ever become accustomed to the uncanny silence in the normally packed square.
Despite the General’s continued absence, a normal compliment of guards stood on duty in front of Fortress Marana.
It took only a few moments to be ushered through the shadows and scattered metal braziers to be brought before the Emperor. Tag’na wasn’t sitting on the cushions of his usual living space but leaning against one of the big plated columns nearby. He was shirtless, as usual, with a pale blue cape and mantle fastened around his shoulders. Where he had been stabbed, there was no scar. There was not even a mark.
He smiled when he saw Aralim and beckoned him forward with one hand.
“It was an interesting journey home, but otherwise uneventful,” Aralim said, as he walked across the space, past the receding Aura. The Emperor’s slouch faded too, and he stood up to speak with his friend. Aralim continued, “I may have been lying yesterday, but now you really do look like your injuries have made you stronger.”
Tag’na took it mirthfully, unlike his rather bleak words from the prior day. “My continued life does have its perks,” he replied, smiling. “Did you want tea? Or a walk perhaps?”
“A walk sounds good. Did they find General Ro?”
The Emperor led the way, moving quickly out from the column, only to assume a slow pace along the rows of columns. “They have not. It seems that none of Ovoe’s safe houses hold the General, even after the capture and questioning of many of his subordinates. No one knows anything, it seems,” he explained. “What they do know is how terrible of an employer Ovoe was, torturing them psychologically when they succeeded and physically when they failed. I’m extending the search into the rest of my lands, in case Ro has been removed from the city. In the meantime, Commander Vanra has done his best to fill sizeable shoes.”
“By the sounds of those stories, perhaps Ovoe really did like me…” Aralim sighed. “Unfortunately, Ovoe was a smart man, he might have taken Ro out of your lands entirely.”
The Eternal Emperor grimaced. “I hope we find him,” he said. “But if the horrid deed is done, at least the General may rest with his wife’s vengeance wrought.” They had paced through the columns now, and were descending from the Palace via the only side-exit, a narrow stairway cut into the flank, past the orchards that attached to Rattar’s meditation yard.
“That vengeance has been the source of his will for so long. I wonder if he would be different without it.”
“Doubtless,” Tag’na replied, blinking at him. “I believe it to be the very reason that he applied himself so rigorously to his military position. That is why I never told him the truth. He was a more capable man without it.”
Aralim still not reveal the contents of Ro’s letter. He mulled his options quietly for a few steps and then tried, “Perhaps Vanra is better suited to the position then.”
“Perhaps.” The Emperor walked in silence for a few moments, and Aralim sensed his eyes upon him, from the colours in his peripherals.
Aralim quickly changed the topic. This man had snapped one of his subordinate’s necks without difficulty; best not to dwell where secrets might be compromised. “Dullah came to me already, seeking facts about what happened yesterday.”
“Oh good—did she reveal anything about the rumours circling?” Tag’na asked.
Aralim glanced at him from the eagerness in his voice. The Emperor was grinning, amused by the impact of his public violence. The Walker didn’t join his humour. “No, I held off the conversation, but whatever I say will likely become the dominant rumour given her knowledge of our friendship.” It still felt strange to say it out loud to the powerful man.
“And what do you think you should say to her?” Tag’na asked. “Hundreds if not thousands saw me fighting on that boat.”
“My current thought is something like ‘The emperor protects his people, even from his closest friends. Ovoe had become twisted with power and only the Emperor could defeat him’.”
His Ascendance paused his steps and regarded Aralim. “Is that why you think I killed him?”
Aralim shrugged and said, “No, but I think I think that it’s the truth that is best for Rema, possibly.”
Tag’na tilted his head in consideration only a moment and then burst, “Alright. That’s what Rattar advised as well, so go ahead and tell that to anyone who asks.” They continued walking.
“Is that your usual indifference?” Aralim had to ask. “Or do you have an alternative story?”
The Emperor smiled. They followed the base of the Palace along a grassy field where soldiers were training. As soon as the warriors spotted who was approaching, they bowed and walked away, even twenty paces away. Tag’na said, “The usual. Ovoe shouldn’t matter enough to me to cause some sort of change, so I’ll shrug it off.”
It felt as though he was leaving something unsaid. “Shouldn’t?” Aralim asked.
“You’ve seen me handle loss and this isn’t that. I killed Ovoe because I wanted to, because I am so, so very tired of people meddling in things that are not theirs to meddle in. What General Ro knew, and might have divulged to Ovoe, is none of their damned business.” Tag’na teeth ground together as he spoke, and Aralim felt the same fury, barely contained, the anger that had welled up the day before. He took a breath. “And I find myself contemplating, every time something like this happens, that maybe I should just tell everyone what they want to know. No one interrogates an open book.”
“Your secrets are your own, but would people’s opinion of you really affect your rule?” Aralim asked. “You’ve said you ruled with an iron fist once. At the end of the day, you live forever and seem to do a good job ruling.”
Tag’na blinked. “So you’re in favour of public revelations? Rattar has urged me against it, over the years, because of…” He trailed off, then smiled, and muttered, “cyclical reasoning…” He cleared his throat. “Because of the security risks it would pose, to me.”
“As a general rule,” Aralim explained, “I’m not against secrets or lying. The Path doesn’t convolute itself with morals. It focuses on the capacity for power, and the decisions of those with power. So it’s your opinion that matters. Which secrets make you stronger?”
The Eternal Emperor shrugged. “I have no idea,” he said. “It’s been a way of life for me for two hundred years. We will talk more about this, but I think to consider it today is to give the man I killed yesterday some influence that he shouldn’t have. If I decide to divulge my secrets to my people, it should be of my own accord, not spurned by the anxiety of having them come close to one.”
“It’s true. You have plenty of time to think about it.”
He chuckled. “Sometimes I’m surprised that that joke hasn’t gotten as old as it should have.” They had begun walking back toward the Iron Palace again, as fair droplets of water started to rain from the overcast sky.
“Much like that tea of yours, there’s no getting used to some things,” Aralim replied.
They didn’t speak for a few steps, but before climbing the stairs, Tag’na paused again and said, “I’m contemplating selecting a new Keeper of Information. Do you have any thoughts on whether I should? Or who?”
“I’m assuming the job is quite useful for getting information from places where your Aura can’t reach, but I don’t know any of the members of the Second Court well.” The Aura milling about the floor of the Iron Palace vanished amidst the columns as they ascended the side-stairwell once more. Aralim looked at the powerful man once more.
“That’s reasonable,” the Emperor replied. The clear skin of his cheeks and slanted brow glistened with rainwater like a slight dew. “Only those heavily invested in news and politics tend to know all the names, while the First Court tends to carry more fame. There must be a loyalist who would do work as efficient for me as General Ro did for the military, but I know not who. It seems all those that are obsessed with knowledge seek to know all that they do not.”
“What you need is a Keeper of Information that is good at their job, but not particularly fond of it.”
Tag’na smirked. “After my display yesterday, that might describe whomever I choose. I can give it more time, though I ought to select one before you depart. Seeing as the collection of information abroad is one of the key descriptors for such a position.”
Aralim scratched the grain of his lantern staff. There was a rough spot a few inches above his usual handgrip. “How long does that give you? Or… me for that matter. Could I interview the Second Court in the meantime?”
“It really depends. I had thought during the month after this that you might depart, but there’s no real deadline. In a week or two, let’s meet–you, Minister Muria, and I, and we’ll plan things out more completely,” Tag’na decided.
“When you and the minister are ready, you know how to find me,” Aralim said.