Imperialist: The Voyage

Chapter Six; A Royal Murder

He had waddled up to his father's horse as he prepared to hunt with his friends. His father had been laughing, in a rare good mood. So the young Votrek thought he'd want to see the wooden toy horse one of the servants had given him. What a wasted thought. His father had looked down at him in disgust and pushed him away with the toe of his boot, into the mud. Like a pest. Who was he kidding? This was personal too.

"But he's so short," Thovina's nose wrinkled in disgust. "So... so frail looking. Like a sickly child. How can I love someone like that?"

"You don't have to love him," Votrek said, walking up to the seamless wall that had only minutes ago opened up. He pressed a pressure point and the side door swung out. Thovina dragged the soldier inside. "Take a lover if you need love. That's what they're there for. Love is a luxury us royals can rarely afford. And he's not a child. Khalid is a year older than you. And the rightful King of Bremon. We need a formal alliance with them. Marriage is the best alliance."

She was silent as they dragged the body as deep within the secret corridor as possible.

"Besides," he continued. "We've never married into Bremon royalty before. Your grandmother and great grandfather were Genda royalty, but we've never had the Bremon bloodline."

"I'll do it for you father, only because I know you need it and I trust you," she finally said, looking up at Votrek. As they passed a crack in the wall, moonlight shone on them, illuminating the admiration and devotion on her face.

"That's my girl," Votrek reached out and ruffled her curly hair. She laughed and pulled out of his reach.

"This should be far enough," he finally said. They stopped and propped the soldier up against the cobwebbed wall. The corpse's head lolled limply to the side. "He's too far in for anyone to smell the decomposition. In any case, this castle always stinks. No one will find him here in our lifetimes."

"Great," Thovina said, pulling over her hood. "Let's get outta here, my king."

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As Moutassim rose from his prayers at dawn, he kept replaying in his mind the uproar he had caused at the council meeting yesterday. Both Morabi and Agamon, two principled men he would willingly trust with his life, had objected strongly to his announcement that he was going to arrange and personally sail southwards with a fleet of ships in search of new lands. The fact that he wanted to take Tarik with him and leave Kelita as the regent only made it worse.

But even more worrisome was Strackon's support for the plan. It marked the first time in his over thirty years as Ambassador to Kalli that Strackon had ever supported anything proposed by a Mesigan Emperor.

Then there was Hussein, who had made one of his rare but impactful contributions.

"Your majesty, I know you seek glory and honour. Maybe even redemption. But it's a trip you might not return from. That route festers with terrible things. I have heard stories. Cannibal humans on beautiful beaches. Natives that can kill a man with one blow of air. Monstrous creatures that can pull a ship underwater. Demonic creatures of the deep..."

"That's enough, Hussein," Moutassim had said then. "I've made up my mind. My throne has never been stronger, nor the opportunity better. I've just crushed a rebellion. Public goodwill is at its highest! With the help of your respective countries, we can put together a grand navy."

After the meeting, Morabi and Agamon had tried their best to change his mind and even questioned his sanity. It hadn't worked and after visiting his nieces, Agamon had thrown up his hands in despair and departed for home.