The Diplomat (35 page)

Rema placed the tray of food in reach of the group and stood before them, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “I’m glad you all came. This is Muhan, a friend of mine. Muhan, this is Artunos, captain of the official’s guard. To his left is Sothis, minister of war, and over there is Calicio, spymaster. The radiant woman is Jalaya, my dearest friend.” Muhan smiled as Jalaya beamed at him.

“Before you say whatever is on your mind, Rema, let me speak,” said Artunos. “You need to know exactly what’s taken place in your absence.” There was a touch of aggression in his voice, and he cracked his knuckles before continuing. “At some point in the last month, Haran and Betany began working together very closely. Betany obviously wants to be rid of us and is beginning to push Haran to more extreme measures. They’re crafty about it too. They’ve lobbied for a law against dissident speech that could also be used against us.”

“Haran trying to pass cruel laws is nothing new,” said Rema. “He managed to overturn Togun’s slavery act last year, remember.”

“Yes, but now he’s combining repressive laws with laws that undermine our group. Though I doubt it’s Haran’s mind at work. It seems more Betany’s approach.”

“That reminds me. Ormun told me that Betany is pushing for new laws against supposedly improper sexual activity. That would make three of us here criminals.” Rema spoke with a bitterness she couldn’t conceal. She had once been sent on an errand to Kalanis, where the law held that no love could be allowed but that between a man and a woman, and while there, she had intervened in the execution of two men. An official complaint had been written to the Emperor, but Togun had torn it to pieces in front of her. Betany would reject her father’s tolerance and destroy uncounted lives, all to take out her petty revenge.

“I was aware of the new law,” said Calicio. “But only you have the power to influence Ormun to join us in opposing it. Haran simply overrules us by citing his legal authority.”

“It’s Betany, not Haran, who is our real enemy,” said Rema. “She knows that Ormun won’t listen to her, so now she’s trying to beguile Haran to disguise her vengeance as lawmaking.”

Sothis cleared his throat, and the group waited patiently for him to struggle through a series of short wheezes. “But there’s nothing we can do about her. She has no rank or office. We can’t agitate for her to be dismissed.”

“What about a scandal?” said Artunos. “She could be disgraced. She must have somebody in her bedchamber.”

Old friend or not, sometimes Artunos was appalling. “I find it distasteful that a woman might be disgraced merely for making love. But I’ll humor you. What do our spies have to say?”

“There are no love letters circulating for her,” said Calicio. “No mysterious gifts. Obviously, she has Haran infatuated, but there is no indication she’s returning his affections.”

Rema looked to Jalaya, who shook her head. “I’m sure she sleeps alone,” Jalaya said. “The window of her room opens to one of the lower courts, where anything could be heard. The only gossip is that Haran is in love with her.”

“Thank you,” said Rema, and Jalaya squashed her face into her palms. She was beloved among the court entertainers, and every dancer, musician, actor and poet in the palace jumped to share their daily observations with her. For years, Haran and Ferruro had attended performances with no idea that their every word and action was passed along a chain of whispers that ended at Rema, and Calicio often quipped that Jalaya was a better spymaster than he. The compliment always delighted her to no end.

“Haran and Betany could become a scandal,” said Artunos. “One that might dispose of the both of them.”

“Forget about scandals! Ormun doesn’t care about scandals. Or perhaps he will one day and not the next. He has no direction except an animal one toward bloodshed and dominance. I’ll plead reforms while Haran shouts for new capital punishments, and Ormun will decide based purely on who most entertained him. He’s completely outmatched by Ferruro, who has been siphoning imperial money into his own coffers for years. It’s a disastrous regime. All we do is chase more wars while the city and its palace fall into disrepair and disorder.”

“It’s true that the wars have to stop,” said Sothis. “There needs to be a period of peace and consolidation. Yet every time I try to suggest it, Haran turns Ormun the other way, advising him to punish our enemies.” He coughed, his hand pressed to his chest. “And the Empire is spread too thin. We’ve only just conquered Molon, and he wants us back in Urandal before we can even set up some form of civil governance.”

“The people of Arann are unhappy,” said Calicio. “You don’t need a network of spies to see it. Togun gave them new amphitheaters and gardens, made their lives easier and kept the streets safe. Ormun is neglectful to the extent that many doubt he’s even alive. Slavery is worse than ever. Forced prostitution has returned, and I’ve had to withdraw spies from the brothels because of the dangers there.” He exhaled a long, troubled sigh. “I don’t enjoy reading my morning correspondences.”

“Don’t forget about his wives,” said Jalaya. “He’ll take one to dinner with him, and we’ll have to keep singing and dancing while he beats her or tears off her clothes. Nobody ever sees them outside their rooms anymore. They’re too afraid to leave and too bruised to show their faces. Lakmi has a guard posted at every bedchamber, and he says it’s for their protection, but the women feel terrorized.” She rested her troubled gaze on Rema. “I don’t want that to happen to Elsie.”

Artunos groaned. “Yes, I get the point. Ormun is a bad emperor. How am I to argue with that litany of sorrows? But there’s nothing that we can do about him. Our only target with any kind of vulnerability is Haran. Remove him, and Betany will lose her mouthpiece and Ormun won’t be exposed to his ramblings.”

“No,” said Rema. “The time has come to grasp the problem by the root. Ormun must be deposed.”

A reaction was to be expected, and she was not disappointed. Artunos twisted his mouth in sour disapproval, Calicio’s eyebrows leapt, Sothis sagged, Jalaya opened her mouth wide and Muhan, who had been until then seemingly bemused by affairs outside his understanding, inhaled deeply.

“You can’t be serious,” said Artunos. “Even if we could, the throne would go to Betany and things would be even worse than before.”

“Generations ago, the Empire was ruled by a council of the wise and learned. Then a general—the first Emperor—returned from victory and deposed them. We’ll refuse Betany her throne and return to the old way of rule. It’s not yet a democracy, but at least we’ll not be ruled by dictators.”

Calicio shifted against the wall, an uncertain light in his eyes. “There is precedent for it. But we can hardly persuade Ormun to step down.”

“No. We have to remove him.”

The anger in Artunos’s expression faltered into disbelief, and Jalaya leaned forward, her eyes liquid under the torchlight. “You’re not a murderer, Rema. None of us are.”

“Put that aside for later. The first step is to take Betany’s support away from her. We can’t have her assume power afterward. I don’t think we can convince Haran, but I suspect that Ferruro would be amenable. He cares only for his treasury.”

“If anyone should talk to Ferruro, it’s you,” said Calicio. “You’re the only person at court he has any respect for.”

“Sothis and I will both talk to him. I think we could persuade him that Ormun’s endless wars are more costly than a few freed slaves and better living conditions.”

Sothis nodded. “That much is true.” His hands trembled. No doubt he was thinking of his family sleeping in their mansion on the other side of Arann—a wife and three daughters, all of them endangered by their father’s actions.

“With Betany out of the picture, there will be nobody else to take control. Ormun’s infant children aren’t of age, and the Empire has never had the patience for regencies. None of the generals will get involved; who would want to inherit this disaster? Lakmi might support Betany, leading to a war between the guard factions, but if we win over Ferruro that outcome becomes far less likely. Where the money is, Lakmi will follow.”

“Irrelevant chatter,” said Artunos. “You’ve not yet revealed how Ormun is supposed to be dispatched. A single drop of blood will be enough for Haran to have us hung. Ferruro isn’t going to stick his neck out for assassins.”

“That’s why it has to appear like an accident.”

Calicio rubbed his chin. “Slow poison? Impossible to trace, if done properly.”

“No. We have to do this within two days.”

Sothis gasped, and Artunos rose from his crate, his eyes black with fury. “Even if I did agree to this suicide pact, we can’t win over Ferruro and rid ourselves of Ormun in merely two days! We need time to plan, to prepare…”

“Two days.”

Artunos laughed, a quick, bitter bark, and turned to face the others. “Do you know why she insists on this? Because in two days Ormun marries his new bride, and Rema is infatuated with her. That’s what all of this is about. Not the betterment of the Empire, not rescuing us from tyranny, but because she’s fallen for Elise Danarian.”

“She’s not the only one,” said Jalaya, a quiet anger in her voice. Rema looked up, surprised. Jalaya, angry? “If Rema says we have two days, then we have two days.”

“And what do you have at stake? You’re just a singer. You could flee the palace in the night, and a week later nobody would remember you. It’s our heads that will adorn the palace gate.”

“Still your tongue, Artunos,” Rema said, with such roughness that Artunos flinched. “You’ll not talk to her that way. She’s worth a hundred of us, and if anything happened to her, many pillows in this palace would never again be dry.”

Artunos sank back to the crate, his face slackening, and extended his hands with his palms upturned. “I’m sorry. Jalaya, I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just overwhelmed by all of this. Go on, Rema.”

Jalaya’s eyes smoldered with gratitude, and Rema looked away to keep herself from blushing. “I’m going to persuade Ormun to impress Elise by arranging a performance. The show’s highlight will be an exotic magician from distant lands, a master of colors and an invoker of mysteries.”

Muhan’s mustache quivered. “My dear Rema. I see now why you required me, but this is rather more than I imagined.”

“You won’t be at any risk. You’ll wear a mask, and you’ll be out of the palace well before anyone notices what we’ve done.” Rema softened her voice. “He killed your brothers, Muhan.”

Muhan scratched his cheek and said nothing.

“That trick you did with the monkeys. Will you tell me how it’s done?”

“At the cost of my livelihood, but very well. The box is much larger than it seems from the view of the audience. It has a false interior wall. A long pedal near my foot rotates it in the middle so that I can reveal various compartments.”

“Are larger devices possible that could accommodate a man? A box with two compartments, one front and back?”

Muhan nodded. “Easily adjusted. I would need a skilled mechanic in the city to construct it, however.”

“That can be arranged. It will need to be finished tomorrow, however, so that it can be ready for the performance the next day.”

Artunos grunted. “This plan gets better and better. And how do you propose to get Ormun involved?”

“I’ll coax him. He trusts me, the gods help him. When he gets into a playful mood, he can almost be like the boy he once was…” Rema shook away the sadness before it could steal over her. “The beauty of the plan is that if Ormun doesn’t cooperate, no harm is done. I’ll volunteer in his place and nobody will suspect a thing.”

“So Ormun is to enter my cage,” said Muhan. “And then?”

“Jalaya steps out in his place. Everyone is tremendously amused, there is great applause, and Jalaya, you’ll then sing for everyone. A very long song with a loud musical accompaniment, so that Muhan can step behind the cage, open its rear compartment and knock Ormun out cold. I assume you can do that.”

“Yes. There are several ways to strike an unsuspecting man and send him to sleep, and I know them well.”

Artunos gave another weary shake of his head. The tiresome man seemed determined to naysay everything, but then, that was his nature. “Eventually someone is going to wonder why he’s taking so long to emerge. He’s the Emperor, Rema. Every second he’s out of sight the guards will grow more nervous.”

“True,” said Rema. “Jalaya, do any of the entertainers resemble Ormun? I seem to remember this one actor…”

“Yes!” Jalaya clapped her hands. “I know who you mean. We joke about it all the time. He’s the same build and hair color and has a similar pointy nose. You wouldn’t mistake the two up close, though.”

“It doesn’t need to be close. We’ll have this actor dress up in clothes like those that Ormun is wearing on the day, and we’ll cut his hair the same. When Jalaya is done singing, the actor emerges on a balcony and waves. I shout in recognition, everyone points, cheers and stares. Dancers move on to the stage while Muhan and Artunos begin to remove his props, including the box that now contains Ormun.”

“So we’ve effectively made Ormun disappear,” said Muhan. “You’d make a good magician.”

“I suppose we’re then meant to kill Ormun,” said Artunos. “Dispose of the body. Nobody can figure out what’s become of him, and the magician at that point has disappeared. But won’t people suspect Jalaya?”

“Of what? Of being Ormun magically transformed? Artunos, everyone will know we’re responsible, but nobody will be able to prove it. Haran can’t turn his courts against us without evidence, Ferruro won’t care so long as he keeps his position, and Betany can howl from now to the end of time.”

“I hope you realize this is the most ridiculous plan I’ve ever heard, if not one of the more ingenious.”

“It is a bit far-fetched,” said Calicio. “And all in two days, Rema. Nobody could question your imagination or your intelligence, but this seems fanciful.”

“All conjuring tricks sound fanciful when described in their details,” said Muhan. “You think to yourself, can an audience truly overlook that? And yet every time they do. To those watching it would be certain that Ormun had departed from the balcony. None will consider that he might still be in the box.”