“I am here, your Majesty,” said Demos Tiver.
Emperor Tyron looked at the Undersecretary of State, standing just inside the doorway of his audience chamber. Those Above, but he looked hideous! Fat. Sweating so much, even in this relatively cool weather, that it had soaked through his clothes and fouled the air for a dozen yards around him. His face covered with sores and rashes. Tyron had tried so hard to overlook it, to tell himself that it was his loyalty and his intellect that mattered, but if the Brigadier was right he was a traitor to the Empire, to all humanity. Would he have spotted it for himself if Tiver had been of more normal appearance? If Tyron hadn’t been so desperate to be fair that he’d overcompensated and ignored his gut instincts, thinking them to be caused by his disgust at his appearance? He reminded himself that he still had no proof that Tiver had done anything wrong. Maybe the Brigadier was mistaken. That was why he'd summoned him here; to see the man with a clear eye. To see the truth.
“Come in,” he said, standing and coming around from behind his desk. “I asked you here to get an update on Skelby’s condition. Every time I ask the doctors I get the same reply. He's on the mend but not yet ready to resume his duties. I assume you're keeping a close eye on him, so please tell me the truth. How is he, really?”
“The truth is, the doctors have no idea what’s wrong with him,” the Undersecretary replied. He looked longingly at a chair, shifting his weight from one leg to another, but one did not sit when the Emperor was standing. “Some kind of neuro-degenerative condition, they think now. It's possible that it’s relapsing and remitting, that it'll improve by itself at some point...” He gave a helpless shrug, then produced a handkerchief from his sleeve and mopped his brow with it.
“So, there's no realistic prospect of his returning to work, then.”
“Perhaps in an advisory role. After everything he’s done for the Empire, it would seem callous and ungrateful to just sack him. I'm sure that, with the right...”
The Emperor held up his hand, though, and Tiver fell silent. “The Empire owes Skelby a debt it can never repay,” he said. “However, we need a Secretary of State who is capable of fulfilling all the duties of his role. I will be announcing his retirement at this afternoon's assembly. The time has come to appoint his replacement.”
Tiver nodded. His face was trying to look sad and regretful, but there was a gleam of excitement in his eyes.
“What is the situation in the outer provinces?” the Emperor asked.
“The new measures we've implemented in the western provinces are having the desired effect,” replied Tiver. “I am confident that the seditionists will be completely crushed within a couple of months.”
“And what are these new measures?”
“The army has implemented martial law. All public gatherings are banned. Trial by jury has been temporarily suspended, in order to allow the speedier processing of traitors. The death penalty has been brought in for all but the most minor of offences and we are offering large cash rewards for information leading to the arrest of the ringleaders. These measures may seem extreme, but they are working and can all be reversed when this time of crisis has passed.”
“You don't think that these measures are more likely to stir up the provinces even more? Cause more resentment? Jncite more violence?”
“The people must understand that treason has consequences, your Majesty. I am confident that this crackdown will see the return of law and order.”
The Emperor studied him carefully. He's lying, he thought, and the more he studied the man’s face, the more certain he was of it. There was something in his expression. A sly look, as if he was laughing internally. Laughing at him!
How didn’t I see this before? he asked himself. Am I that blind? More to the point, why did none of my advisors warn me about him? They must know what he’s like. Does he have something on them? Is he blackmailing them? He remembered someone telling him that Fienwell was Tiver's ‘problem solver’. Did those problems include members of his own court who might have spoken out against him? I have to get rid of him, he realised. I can't arrest him. Not even I can arrest a man without evidence, but I have to get this poisonous toad as far away from any position of influence as I possibly can.
“I disagree,” he said therefore. “ We have tried cracking down again and again, and the result has always been an increase in violence and lawlessness. I think it's time we tried a new approach. Reaching out to the common people. Finding the root causes of their dissatisfaction and trying to find common ground with them. They clearly feel they have legitimate grievances. Let's see if we can work together to deal with them.”
Tiver stared at him. “Your Majesty, I believe that would be a grave mistake. They would see that as weakness and be encouraged by it. It would make the situation a thousand times worse.”
“Well, I intend to discuss it with the new Secretary of State, see what he thinks. I was thinking of appointing Howell. What do you think of him?”
Tiver stared even harder. He produced the handkerchief again and mopped more sweat from his face. “Pardon, your Majesty,” he said, “But I assumed that I would be the new Secretary.”
“I think a completely new approach is needed. Fresh blood, new ideas. Howell is devoted to the Empire. He has a great many useful connections with the Constituent Assembly and has proven very capable at reforming the trade guilds. I think he would do an excellent job.”
“But, Sire, it would take too long to bring him up to speed. To brief him on the exact situation in every part of the Empire. For him to become familiar with all the active players...”
“That could actually be an asset. A fresh mind, seeing everything from a new perspective.”
“And, Sire, your comment that he is devoted to the Empire... Sire, are you suggesting that I am not?”
You bet your life I am! thought Tyron, but he couldn't say that. Not yet. He might be Emperor, but there were still powerful forces at play in his government that he couldn’t afford to offend. “Not at all,” he said, therefore. “No-one appreciates everything you’ve done more than I, but I feel that your talents would be put to better use in the diplomatic service. I'm appointing you Kelvon's ambassador to the Kingdom of Carrow.”
Tiver stared even harder and swayed on his feet as if he were having difficulty keeping his balance. “Ambassador...?”
“A position of great honour and importance. I’m sure you'll do an excellent job.”
“Sire, this is an outrage! I have great influence in the Constituent Assembly...”
“Watch what you say, Undersecretary,” growled Tyron. “That almost sounds like a threat."
Tiver glanced at the two guards, watching him warily from the back of the room. He mopped his brow with his handkerchief again. The frilly cloth was so wet now that it was almost dripping, the Emperor observed with horrified fascination.
“I apologise, Majesty,” the Undersecretary said, a slight tremble in his voice. “You simply surprised me. To do something so drastic and dangerous...”
“Dangerous, Tiver?”
“Dangerous to the Empire. The provinces are a boiling cauldron, Majesty. We have been trying to keep a lid on it. You wish to lift the lid and let it all boil over.”
“To continue your analogy, Tiver, perhaps what is necessary is to turn down the heat.”
“Your Majesty, I beg you! You cannot do this!”
“It is done, Tiver. At least you will have all your staff with you in Carrow. You'll be in familiar company.”
“You propose to replace the entire Ministry?”
“Except for Ryan Tarnor. Someone from your staff needs to stay, for continuity. I'm appointing him Howell's new Undersecretary. Everyone else goes to Carrow, with you.”
“Sire, the Ministry of State is the most important Ministry in the Empire! You risk throwing the entire Empire into turmoil!”
“The Empire is already in turmoil. That will be all, Tiver. You've got packing to get on with.”
Tiver’s face was sweating even more than before. He dabbed at it again with his handkerchief, then bowed and left. He looked back once before closing the door behind him, and the Emperor wasn't surprised to see a brief look of purest malice on his pimply, rash ridden face.
A moment later the door opened again and Brownley, his Private Facilitator, entered. “He didn't look happy,” he observed.
“He didn't take his new assignment well,” replied Tyron. “Those Above, what an odious man! I should have gotten rid of him years ago. Well, he’s the Carrowmen's problem now. From what I've heard of the place, he'll fit right in over there.” The room was still full of the smell of Tiver’s stale sweat. He ordered one of the guards to open a window, let some fresh air in. “Did you get him?” he then asked.
“We went to the address you gave us,” said Brownley. “It was unoccupied. We left some men there in case he comes back.”
“According to the Brigadier, Fienwell's an adoptee. Half raised by the Radiants, possessing the powers of a wizard. Your men must be extremely careful.”
“We’re using wizards, as you advised. He'll find they're harder to curse than normal men. Don't worry, Majesty. If he comes back, they'll get him.”
“Good, because I've got some searching questions for him. Keep me informed.” The man bowed. “And send Howell in on your way out. We've got to reform the guard across the whole Empire. Try to undo the damage Tiver’s done. Those Above grant it isn't too late...”