Chapter 501: Imperial Bearing

Argrave looked out across the verdant hills just beyond the hills of the Vysenn. It had been some time since he’d seen this place. He had passed through this area after returning from his ‘diplomatic mission’ to the northern part of Vasquer. Back then, he’d been forced to do battle with the people taking residence there because one of their many tribes had invaded at the behest of Georgina.

Now, Argrave looked down at the brunette woman who’d caused all of that trouble. She was chained to a metal stake just before him. Initially he thought that she had done her duties in service of King Felipe, but in truth, she likely hoped to bring his deceased father to Mozzahr, Castellan of the Empty. After their successful subjugation of the cult, Georgina been captured and put under Elenore’s... ‘care.’ She only dodged execution by virtue of being a protagonist of Heroes of Berendar. More specifically, she dodged execution for a day like this one, where she could be useful.

Now, that ‘protagonist’ wore a drab burlap robe no more glamorous than what a beggar might wear, and judging by her gaunt face seemed to have suffered some malnourishment in the dungeon. She had always been a classic beauty, yet time under duress had muted that a great deal. Her hands were chained behind her back, and her palms had been nailed together to prevent her from casting magic.n)(o)-V/(e/(l/.b)-I)-n

Argrave knelt down before her and looked back to Anneliese. She gave a him a nod, indicating she was watching and judging all of Georgina’s answers. Argrave looked back at her. She had been very quiet since he’d arrived.

“My sister tells me that you claim to still have some ties to the people in Vysenn,” Argrave began without cordiality. Her actions had caused much death, and he had no desire to be gentle with her. “But the tribe that you sent out to attack us was killed, almost to the last. And I’m questioning her insight because of that. Now—and answer honestly, or this will be the last time that you can see grass—can you talk to some people within Vysenn? Does your word have enough weight to convince them to migrate?”

Georgina bit at her lips. Judging from the blood and the scarring on them, this wasn’t a new thing. When she first opened her mouth to speak, empty air came out as her voice failed her. She swallowed to get it back and then managed hoarsely, “Maybe.”

Argrave stood and repeated disdainfully, “Maybe. That’s your answer?”

Despite freedom dangling before her eyes and the pain undoubtedly wracking her stabbed hands, Georgina maintained her calm and chose her words carefully. It was both somewhat admirable and worrying, by Argrave’s estimation.

“While it’s true that the tribe I associated strongest with was wiped out, I had others that I maintained ties with. Reserves. I couldn’t move freely through their lands without other ties in other tribes. But it’s been a while since I’ve been here. I can’t say how dependable time will have been on those friendships. So, the best I can say is maybe.”

It was a reasonable thing to say, and something that Argrave had been thinking himself. If the Alchemist inside the Ravenstone around Argrave’s neck wasn’t pressuring him to act quickly, he might’ve never considered Georgina as an option. But the dwarven volunteers would be coming quickly, and they would need to prepare Vysenn for use before then.

“Why did you betray your country for the Ebon Cult?” Argrave asked.

She looked up at him with her soft brown eyes, yet there was still some fire within them. “Because my country was torn apart by a civil war with no good outcome, and judgment was coming.” She stewed on her words, then amended, “At least, I thought there would be no good outcome. Mozzahr and his cult were many things, but fractured they were not. Between destroying all or surrendering my homeland to a despot, I thought the latter was better.”

Argrave crossed his arms. “You certainly came up with that quick.”

“I’ve had months staring at iron bars as time to reflect.”

Argrave sighed. He felt brutality was somewhat warranted on a war criminal, but he still didn’t truly have the heart for it. He paced around the grasslands, glancing at Anneliese to see if she had any input. When she offered none, Argrave came to kneel beside Georgina once more.

“This servant pleads entry, bringing tribute from the lands beyond the southern ocean,” Eunuch Hao said in his soft voice.

“We permit it,” the emperor answered.

Eunuch Hao rose and walked forward with his head bowed politely. None save his concubines could look him in the eye, by tradition. The emperor stared with some distaste as the eunuch neared. The man looked subtly different—fatter, perhaps. He didn’t like their kind. ‘Men without ambition,’ eunuchs were called, yet the past year as their power in the palace waxed, that was disproven. And this one, Eunuch Hao, underwent castration willingly to enter the palace. He came from a prominent family in the Chu, so he could not be entirely disregarded.

Eunuch Hao kowtowed, then held up a bone-white dagger. “This servant offers a dagger of divine origin, taken from one of the Imperial Navy’s raids of a local castle.”

Ji Meng reached out and took the blade. At once, he felt its familiar power course through him. It was a divine artifact, yet he had never seen its like in the imperial treasury.

“We have received your tribute,” Ji Ming said, placing the dagger on the table. “And our word is without question. We promised to begin the invasion once proof of value was shown. It is time for our decree to reach Admiral Tan Shu. Command her navy to begin the invasion.”

Eunuch Hao tapped his head on the ground. “This servant offers limitless thanks at being allowed to carry the imperial command.”

Emperor Ji Meng studied Eunuch Hao as he continued to kowtow. The man was not normally so quick with things. Flourishes of word, of ceremony... he seemed to revel in both of them. Then, something caught the emperor’s eye when the eunuch dared a glance at his face.

“Eunuch Hao’s eyes... they’re blue.”

The eunuch froze. “This servant humbly confirms.”

“Of the tens of thousands of people in this palace, we have seen that color only once before,” said the emperor. “One of our consorts possesses it. And she was tribute from barbaric lands, where the Chu do not reside.”

“This lowly servant dares not compare himself to one of the great consorts,” Eunuch Hao said, kowtowing once more. “Should it be asked, this servant would bequeath his eyes upon the divine seat gladly. Surely the imperial power of the Chu could find a better use for them than this servant ever dares aspire to.”

Emperor Ji Meng felt some of the old grandiloquent Eunuch Hao return, and turned back to his meal annoyed. “Leave us. We have given our decree. Deliver it.”

Yet even as Eunuch Hao left, Ji Meng’s mind remained on the eyes that they had seen. Blue-green eyes... and almost rippling, moving. Was Eunuch Hao born of a barbarian woman? Had he missed such a detail about that man, or was there something else? He studied the divine dagger that the eunuch had brought as tribute to begin the invasion of the southern land.

Even on the battlefield, his meals had gone down easier. Perhaps it was time for him to return to it after thirty years... after all, any land where this dagger was commonplace could not be so simple. But would the imperial court allow him to lead an army?

Allow me? Ji Meng reflected. I am emperor.