Read Empire of Avarice Online

Authors: Tony Roberts

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Historical Fiction, #Fantasy

Empire of Avarice (47 page)

“Does everyone bow to you, Argan?” Kerrin asked, trying
to peek into the room the scribe had rushed into. The door shut and Kerrin
looked away, disappointed.

“Yes, they’re supposed to. Mother says I have to be
treated as a prince, but I must act like one too. It’s very hard, you know,
Kerrin. It’s not that easy, I can tell you!”

Kerrin looked at his companion in sympathy. “So, what
are all these rooms? There’s loads of them!”

“Oh, these are the offices of the scribes and the
imperial – “ he paused, trying to remember what he had heard it called. “Oh, I
can’t remember, foohey! Something to do with laws and taxes and what have you. Boring
stuff.”

Kerrin grinned. “Must be a lot of people here.”

“Oh, yes, loads. Most only work here and they go home
after they finish, but some live here too, like you’re going to. Do you know
what you’re supposed to do during the day?”

Kerrin scratched his head. “Don’t know, really. Father
said I should be learning things but he wants me to be a soldier like he was! He’s
great with the sword, and he’ll teach you loads!”

“Did he get that scar on his head fighting?”

Kerrin nodded. “Yeah – it stopped him being a soldier. He
was proper poorly, so mother said. She said he nearly died! I was too young to
remember. Since then he’s looked to teach people how to be proper soldiers. But
there wasn’t much work ‘cuz people didn’t like soldiers or want to be. Your
father’s changed all that, you know.”

Argan was touched by the pride in Kerrin’s voice at
mentioning his father. Argan wondered if his father would see him again, as he
seemed to be fighting that war all the time. He felt suddenly fearful that he
would never see his father. Hastily changing the subject, he tugged on Kerrin’s
arm. “Here, this is the place!” he opened the classroom door and peered in. Sunlight
streamed through the un-curtained windows, illuminating the desks, chairs,
tables and bookshelves. There was no sign of anyone. “It’s empty!”

The two boys entered, Kerrin shutting the door behind
him. The newcomer stared in wonder at the rows of books. “Wow! Look at all
those books! What are they about?”

“Don’t know – my tutor Mr. Sen shows me a few, but most
are grown-up’s books, full of writing and no pictures. My books are down here,
look!” He showed Kerrin the book full of soldiers and the two lay down on the
rug that covered the middle portion of the floor and shared the book.

They chatted about the various soldiers, some wearing
full armour, others only wearing light padded or leather jerkins. Archers,
spearmen, swordsmen, cavalry. They found the section on war machines
interesting; neither had seen the great devices made to knock down walls, but
there they were in the book, great wooden machines with swinging levers that
hurled rocks.

They didn’t notice that so much time had passed, until
the door opened and a face peered in anxiously. It was one of the guards. “Ah,
there you are, young Prince. Your mother the empress is looking for you.”

“Oh,” Argan stood up, brushing down his clothes. “Dinner.
I forgot!”

The guard grinned and withdrew, and Argan heard him call
out to someone along the corridor. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He
would be in trouble again. Her always seemed to be in trouble, but he never
looked to cause any. He looked at Kerrin who had picked up the book. “Best put
it where we found it. I think you’ll be needed to be with your father. I’ve got
to go.”

Kerrin nodded. “We meet again tomorrow? It’d be nice to
have a friend here; I lost all my friends when we had to move here.”

“Friend?” Argan echoed. The fact was he never had a
friend before, and the thought pleased him. “Yes, that’d be great!”

Kerrin smiled shyly. “I’ve never had a prince as a
friend before,” he said.

“Well, I’ve never had a friend ever!”

They stood grinning at each other, then they heard Vosgaris’s
voice. “Prince Argan!”

“Oh!” Argan said, his hand to his mouth, “he sounds
cross! Let’s go!”

They ran out of the room and Argan saw Vosgaris standing
in the corridor, his arms folded, a stern expression on his face. He turned and
waved at Kerrin who waved back, then the other boy was running off back to the
courtyard.

“I’m disappointed in you, Prince Argan,” Vosgaris said
crossly. “Your mother has shouted at me for letting you loose in the palace. I
trusted you to remember; you let me down.”

“I’m sorry, Vos’gis, I forgot! Kerrin and I had a great
time looking at my book. We weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Sometimes, Prince Argan, doing nothing wrong isn’t
enough. You have to be doing something right. And this afternoon you didn’t. If
you make a promise, you must honour it, or you are not someone of your word. People
will not trust you if you do not keep your word. You understand me?”

“Yes, I do. I’m sorry!” Argan wrung his hands. His mood
had gone from happiness to anxiety in moments. “Are you really in trouble?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Vosgaris looked at Argan sternly,
then his face softened. “But not as much as you. Your mother gets very worried
when you’re not in my company; she’s worried something might happen to you. Expect
to be scolded.”

“Oh dear,” Argan said, his voice catching. “I don’t want
to go….. could you say I’ve got a poorly tummy?”

Vosgaris tutted and looked down at the boy. “Now, young
Prince, is that the way of a prince of the House of Koros? You mustn’t tell
such lies, and you must face up to things even if they scare you. Don’t show
them that you’re scared, or don’t want to be there; conduct yourself with
dignity, and you will be respected. I’ll be there, too.”

“Alright, Vos’gis,” Argan said, but put his hand in the
captain’s and reluctantly went with him towards the large dining room. Vosgaris
could feel the boy’s fingers twitching, betraying his nervousness. Two guards
by the doors snapped to attention, as much for the presence of Vosgaris as
Argan’s, and the officer acknowledged them.

“Now, Prince Argan, take courage and whatever your
mother says, listen and accept. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Thank you, Vos’gis,” Argan said in a small voice and
let go of the captain’s hand. The door was opened by the guards and Argan went
in first.

Isbel breathed out in relief as she caught sight of her
son. “Oh, thank the gods you’re safe! You gave us all a fright by going
missing! Where in Kastan were you?”

“I was showing Kerrin my books in the classroom,
mother.”

Vosgaris stood right behind Argan, at attention and
staring into space. He was, though, proud of the six year old speaking so
clearly and calmly to his clearly anxious mother.

“Who is Kerrin?” Isbel demanded.

“My friend,” Argan said.

“Friend?” Isbel frowned. “Friend?” She looked at Vosgaris.
“Do you know about this, Vosgaris?”

“Your majesty, Kerrin is the six year old son of Prince
Argan’s new weapons trainer, Panat Afos. They arrived at the palace this
morning.”

“A commoner?”

“Ma’am,” Vosgaris bowed in assent.

“Well, that will not do! Whatever next! Argan, you are
not to become friends with a commoner like Kerrin, do you understand?”

Argan looked at his mother in anguish. His eyes welled
up and he thought for a moment he would break out and cry, but he caught sight
of Istan at the table and he was sure as anything he would not disgrace himself
in front of that porcine! So he bowed his head and said in a quiet voice, “yes,
mother.”

“Good. Now come sit at the table; you’re late and in
enough trouble as it is!”

Argan scurried to his seat and was helped into his seat
by the servant. Vosgaris waited until Argan was comfortable before moving
towards him. He was stopped by Isbel’s upraised hand. He looked at her in
surprise. “Ma’am?”

“Captain; your duties include looking after my son and
keeping him in your sight whenever he’s not being taught and outside his room. I
should not be put through the strain of wondering where my son is, especially
when there’s a Tybar within these very walls. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

“Not if you value your position here in the palace.” Isbel
fixed Vosgaris with an icy glare. The captain looked over her shoulder into
infinity. Isbel breathed out long, and then waved him to his position behind
her two sons.

Vosgaris strode carefully to his spot, and Argan caught
his eye. Incredibly, the captain winked quickly at him. Argan smiled slightly
and bowed his head so that nobody could see. It made him feel much better. In
fact, so much better, he felt daring enough to speak to his mother. “Would the
Tybar do anything to me, mother?”

“Let’s not talk about that, Argan. He’s safely under
watch in the other part of the palace and very far away from you.”

“What does he look like?”

“Let’s not talk about him, shall we? This is dinner and
I don’t want to be put off my food by talking about him.”

Argan sat silently, thinking about what the Tybar might
look like. Would he have two heads? Four feet? A canine’s head? Then he forgot
about the Tybar as the first course was placed before him, a creamy soup which
he particularly liked.

Isbel watched Argan throughout the meal. He was showing
signs of disobedience and it was something she was disappointed in. Ever since
she had taken over the running of the empire she had found it hard to devote
time to her two sons and it was something she regretted. Rousa was having great
trouble with Istan who frankly was a handful; he defied her and threw tantrums
at every opportunity. Argan, on the other hand, was a different problem. He
just didn’t seem to be aware of what he was. As a prince he would have to
behave much better and more responsibly. She blamed Vosgaris. Ever since the
young captain had taken over the task of escorting Argan around the palace,
Argan had become more and more unruly. As for wanting a commoner as a friend! Well,
that would have to be stamped out at once.

How she was to bring both sons to heel was a task
currently beyond her thinking. But soon she would have to come up with the
answer, or Astiras would have two sons unsuitable for the positions he had
planned for them. Still, she mused, it was early days yet. They had plenty of
tuition to go through before they were supposed to be the finished article. Perhaps
they would still be sons she could be proud of.

After the meal she spent some time with both boys but
they seemed different from how she remembered them. Istan was petulant and
sulky, but that might have been because he was tired. He was soon sent to his
room with Rousa, while Argan was distant. There seemed to be a barrier between
them, and it saddened her. Was it her fault? Was she a bad mother? She had
tried hard to do what was best for them all, and the seizure of power by
Astiras two years ago had seemed such a great opportunity to get them a better
life.

True, things were better in many ways, but the
responsibilities had meant she had little time to be a mother. She missed that.
Here were her two sons growing up in front of her very eyes and she had little
to do with them.

Argan asked permission to go to his room and Isbel
allowed him; she kissed him on the head and he trotted off happily enough, but
there was something about his behaviour towards her that disturbed the empress.
He just didn’t seem – comfortable around her. It unsettled her. She was feeling
unsettled anyway, what with the Tybar diplomat in the palace as well.

She called Vosgaris to her quarters. Pepil stood at his
usual position off to her right. His stylus and wax tablet were poised to write
whatever was said, recording the administration of the empire for it to be
copied by clerks in his offices, within the dusty corridors of the palace, to
be preserved for posterity. Perhaps in centuries to come historians would pore
over the documents and argue as to what they meant.

Vosgaris bowed and waited patiently, wondering what the empress
was going to speak to him about. The fact Pepil was there meant that whatever
it was would be official. “Captain,” she began formally. Vosgaris snapped
straighter. Whatever she was going to say, it wasn’t going to be to his liking.
The fact she had addressed him as ‘Captain’ indicated that.

“Captain, I am concerned that you are not treating your
duties as guardian of Prince Argan seriously enough. There have been some –
disturbing – developments in his behaviour recently. He’s becoming reluctant to
do as he is told and everything I ask him to do he would appear unwilling to
carry out. Also he is showing a disturbing tendency to mix with commoners. I’m
concerned that you may be instrumental in some of this. What do you have to say
about this?”

Vosgaris stood and thought for a moment. His steel
helmet was held under his left arm but he wished it was over his face so his
expression could run riot without being seen. It was an effort to keep his
facial muscles still. “Ma’am, the young Prince is beginning to grow up. He will
develop his own personality, and this is perhaps just the start of it. As for
my part in this, I do not tell him to defy you; I was just as angry with him at
his tardiness for dinner this evening.”

Isbel regarded the sweating young officer before her. She
was frustrated and needed someone to take it out on. Vosgaris was a convenient
target. “Captain, you show a far too lax attitude. You’re far too familiar with
my son, and may I add, the men under your command too. We need a reliable,
efficient palace guard, and I fear your style may not be what is needed here. You
are not to address my son in any other manner than one his position demands,
and you are to be formal and courteous towards him. I will not permit any other
attitude, do you understand me?”

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