Death and the Emperor

Book 3 Chapter XII: Family Troubles

And they will pause just for an instant, and give a sigh to me, and think, "Poor girl!" believing they do great justice to my memory by this. But they will never, never realize that it was my single opportunity of existence, as well as of doing my duty, which they are regarding; they will not feel that what to them is but a thought, easily held in those two words of pity, "Poor girl!" was a whole life to me, as full of hours, minutes, and peculiar minutes, of hopes and dreads, smiles, whisperings, tears, as theirs: that it was my world, what is to them their world... -- Thomas Hardy, Desperate Remedies

Meanwhile, Nalginton's spies had made their way throughout Carann, searching for anyone willing to work for them in exchange for money. One of the people they found was Niuyínkir. She had never had many principles, and the offer of plenty of money in exchange for gathering information was too good to pass over.

At the same time Gialma found himself suddenly installed on the High Council much sooner than he had expected. The usual official ceremony was over much more quickly than usual, and the prince became one of his cousin's advisers before he had time to consider what events in Malish might mean for his future.

Then everyone fell into a sort of stalemate. Nalginton made no move beyond recruiting some new soldiers -- far too few for an invading army. Kilan made no move beyond recruiting far more soldiers. No one officially declared war. There were no battles. But there certainly wasn't much peace either.

Death watched all this in grim silence. She knew only too well what the ultimate outcome would be. Months passed and there was still officially peace between the two countries, but she saw the approaching war.

Slowly the people of the two empires began to let their guard down. There wasn't going to be an actual war, they told themselves. Everything would go back to normal.

If only.

~~~~

The last few months seemed like an unpleasant sort of dream. Kilan began to wonder if he was being paranoid. Maybe Malish would stay what it always had been: a not quite friendly but not openly hostile trading partner. Maybe it would be safe to tell the army there was no need to recruit quite so many people any more.

All the same, he put Nimetath in charge of reorganising the police force. She knew how to spot spies, and she could teach the police what to look out for.

Death was oddly quiet and sullen when she visited him or vise versa. Kilan tried not to read too much into that.

Then came the bombshell.

It wasn't a literal bombshell, thank goodness. But it was still an unpleasant shock. And of course Chief Counsellor Dilves was responsible.

She made her remark towards the end of a High Council meeting on how much money to grant a weapons factory. What she said was especially startling because it had nothing to do with the subject they were discussing.

"When will you and the Empress have a child, your Majesty?"

Dead silence fell in the council room. Kilan froze. As one everyone looked at her, then at him.

"Child?" Kilan repeated, feeling rather as if she'd punched the air out of his lungs.

The Chief Counsellor looked down her sharp, beak-like nose at him. "Yes, your Majesty." Really, how was it possible for someone to make a title of respect sound like the vilest curse? "You need an heir. That was the reason you got married at all."

No, the reason I married Qihadal is because you forced me into it, Kilan thought.

The counsellors were exchanging glances and whispers during this conversation. Some of them looked as if they wished they were a thousand miles away. He could understand their thoughts perfectly. He wished that himself. Oddly, the person who looked most sympathetic to him was Gialma. That was a puzzle. But it was one he couldn't solve now, with Dilves continuing her speech.