Page 8 of Poisoned Empire

The Magister considered her, the predatory light dimming.So easy to read, she mused. Show him a reflection of his own pathetic self and he would see no faults, just someone to be bought off and bargained with—a civilized business transaction. Scum was scum, no matter how much wealth or power they possessed.

“When you’ve completed my task, you may have what you wish.”

“Then as long as I can get that in writing, I believe we have an agreement. Now, Daddy dearest, what is it you wish of your sad little bastard daughter?”

Chapter 4

Belisarius’arrowwhistledthroughthe air and sank deep into the darting, levitating target. It dropped to the earth, inert.

The shuddering breaths of the horse, its hooves pounding on the packed sand of the training ground, drowned out the sound of his blood rushing to his ears. Though his marksmanship was flawless, his mind was in turmoil. The root of the corruption in his land was likely one of his closest living relatives, and it was all he could think about.

In days gone by, such a betrayal would have meant an instant and merciless death for the offender and any outsider who had discovered the secret. A quick interrogation from their silver-tongued mages would’ve found the culprit, as they had the power to tear the deepest secrets from a man with only a few spoken words. But just a few weeks prior, the palace’s silver-tongued mages had collectively taken their own lives, leaving only the youngest alive and barely conscious. The timing couldn’t have been worse.

Belisarius wondered if it was just paranoia, or whether he was right in finding the whole situation too suspicious to be a coincidence.

“You were slow.”

“My shot was perfect,” Belisarius retorted.Gods below, if the traitors had wormed their way into the palace weeks ago…

“And slow. You’re distracted.”

Marduk’s eyes met the prince’s, the intensity of his disapproval unwavering. The look suited him. As the strategos and thus the highest military official in Lethe, he needed to be able to intimidate any soldier with just a look. Of course, the man’s physique also aided him in that regard. He sported the fangs, claws, horns and whip-like tail marking him as a beast mage, and a height boasting nearly seven feet of pure, lethal muscle. He was a prodigy in his own right, reputed to be the best weapons master in the empire. Even the emperor gave pause in Marduk’s presence. Belisarius was lucky the strategos was also a close friend and confidant.

“You’re impossible to please,” Belisarius grumbled.

“I don’t tolerate sloppiness in my soldiers. Just because I’ve taught you since you were a boy doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate it from you either, Your Royal Highness.”

Marduk was twelve years the prince’s senior, and had been his teacher and brother-figure since Belisarius had been capable of walking. The Empress Nadia had been the one to take Marduk into the fold of the imperial palace, against the protests of all the naysayers and elitists, thus earning herself and her son Marduk’s complete devotion.

Belisarius sighed.

“I am distracted.”

“Then get off your horse and sort it out. Target practice is for those with focus.” Marduk signalled for a stable boy to take the reins of Belisarius’ horse as the prince dismounted. “Should we discuss this?”

The invitations to the bride show had gone out just hours ago, and already the magistri had replied to confirm that they would be presenting all their unwed daughters of marriageable age. It would be two months before the show would begin and the palace had already ramped up its activity. Nicephorus had set in motion plans to hire a slew of new gardeners, servants, stable boys, seamstresses, cobblers, cooks, and even librarians and healers, all to cater to the enormous influx of arrivals to the palace. This would be the first such event since the empire had been established forty-five years ago. It would also be Belisarius’s chance to show the magistri who it was they were expected to loyally serve, and impress upon them the wealth and might the throne wielded. If one of those magistri were aiming for his head, it was time to inform his strategos.

“Meet me in my chambers. I can’t discuss this matter in the open.”

Marduk nodded, following him as he wound his way through the palace corridors and up a winding staircase to the royal chambers. Belisarius sat in a chair on his veranda and waved at a seat opposite him. Marduk took it, somehow comfortably fitting himself in a chair he dwarfed. Servants in drab-coloured tunics appeared to wait on them, but the prince waved them off.

“I require privacy. Keep everyone out of my chambers until I’ve ordered otherwise.”

They disappeared in moments, their soft-soled shoes making no sound on the mosaic floors.

“I need you to identify which of my immediate family has spoken of our tribe’s ritual. I cannot guess who would betray us, which makes me ill-suited to discovering the culprit. I need your impartiality.”

“Have you spoken to your father?” Marduk’s eyes gave away nothing.

“Yes. He informed me that only those of our direct bloodline ever knew how to perform the ritual, but he could not give me a name of one he suspected. Mother knew but was never silenced. A few advisors knew too but agreed to be silenced. However, it has come to my attention that our ritual has been perverted, and we believe that it has been used by Magister Diamond on his own daughters. We suspect more of the nobles may also be involved. I have invited the daughters of all the magistri, and most of the nobility, to Nadioch on the pretence of selecting the future empress. Their attendance will allow us to suss out which families are guilty and which are innocent. Nicephorus believes he can determine this if he can see the women in person.”

Marduk sighed, eyes faraway.

“This is the Soul-Binding Ritual you’re speaking of?”

Belisarius nodded.

Perhaps this was a divine punishment for abusing the sanctity of the ritual, a corruption born from the greed which last tainted its use. Then again, maybe Belisarius was a superstitious fool to entertain the thought.

---