Empress Adirn 9: Negotiation
Once they’d finally completed their slog of a climb up God Gouger Tower, Adirn’s lack of sleep had caught up with, fully overtaken, and hidden in wait for her at the top. Lurking like a forgotten alarm call behind the door of the Skull Chamber and waiting patiently for her to enter, its strike was as swift as it was brutal.
“Ugh, gods.” The empress moaned, as her brain suddenly started to sag heavily at the edges. It felt like a jellyfish that someone was trying to draw down through the eye of a needle, squelching limply at the base of her skull in its unfathomable fatigue.
Shuffling and lurching over the threshold of the Skull Chamber, as her limbs protested against their wakefulness, Adirn collapsed onto one of the skull-shaped chairs and groaned.
“I need to sleep forever.”
“That can be arranged if you dismiss Captain Toxis for an hour or so.” Katherine advised. The empress scowled at her. “Or I’m sure that his brother could concoct you a draught of never-wakefulness. Very potent stuff. It’s what Baron Putra employed against the healers who stayed by his victims’ sick beds, if I recall. They never had to break their oath by leaving their patients, but they also couldn’t distribute the antidote any longer.” Mused the Mistress of Records. “A beautiful solution to the problem.”
“You have a brother?” Adirn asked Keto, ignoring the horror of what Katherine had just said and lifting her head to look at him. So full of fatigue were the bags under her eyes, however, that they weighed it back down again before she could see him respond.
“For the record, your eminence,” he said “I just shrugged.”
“Yet more to discuss…” said Adirn, before she was interrupted by a yawn “…at a more appropriate time.”
“Quite so. Right now we need to get our robes on, if I recall the most recent amendment to our doctrines.” The Mistress of Records prompted.
Adirn wanted to grumble at Katherine for letting her sit down before pointing out the robes, but that would have required too much energy. It was much more efficient just to lurch back to her feet, shamble over to the coat hooks and do as she was told.
Keto, showing no such signs of sleep deprivation, had already crossed to the hooks and taken for himself one of the floor-length garments of mystique from the end of the row. Since it saved her the effort of thinking about anything, the empress followed suit exactly.
“I don’t think you need a large robe, your eminence.” He advised her gently. “They are proportioned more generously for the likes of myself.”
The mere thought of rifling through the display of robes for one that might be more her size was enough to put the empress off that idea entirely. When she factored in the drudgery of having to try two, perhaps even three of them on for fit, however, her mind was immediately made up.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind it being baggy.” She yawned. “Besides, it gives me more fabric to hide and sleep in.”
“Hmph, well I don’t deserve any less fabric than either of you. I shall take a large as well.” Katherine declared, as if anyone had been trying to stop her. With her apparently valued prize resting in her arms she paused a moment more, before pulling gently at the collar of another robe on the hook. A smirk crossed her face. “Yes, I think this will do nicely.”
Late morning sunlight poured itself over the Skull Chamber, high up in God Gouger Tower. Its matte black surfaces absorbed every scrap of the heat, turning the interior into a high-altitude oven for despicable scheming. And yet, despite the heat, when members of the Dark Council arrived there after the long and arduous climb, they were confronted by three figures in heavy, floor-length black robes. Deep hoods engulfed the figures’ heads and excessive sleeves hid their hands in several inches of spare cloth. It was as if they sought to hide not only themselves, but both their pasts and their futures within the fabric.
“Oh, I… er…” Stammered Count Rott. Although lost within the folds and fabrics of her enormous black garment and blinded by the hood that hung over her face, Adirn could recognise the sound of his uncertainty anywhere. “The robes are back then.”
“It is, of course, important that we all wear our robes when convening the Dark Council.” She said, hoping equally that she was facing the right direction, and that she could feign some conviction in being dressed like an idiot. She was unable to see the shock on Count Rott’s face.
“Are you not worried about being hidden from Almighty Virum’s gaze?” Queried the Count, impressed with himself that’d he’d remembered the empress’ reasoning. There was a distraction in his voice, as if suspecting that he was the butt of some cruel joke that he couldn’t quite see yet.
“Almighty Virum will see what he sees. I have discussed the matter with the Grand Priestess and it is clear that the robes must remain in place.” Replied Adirn, carefully. “You will find them on the hooks, as ever.”
“Well, I… right. Yes, your eminence. I am glad that you have come to appreciate our ancient customs and traditions.” Said the Count. It sounded like he was moving towards the coat hooks, and that suspicion was reinforced by a vast quantity of huffing and rustling. “Are there no larges anymore?” He asked after a short while. Katherine sniggered to Adirn’s side.
“The same complement of robes are available as ever, Count.” Said the Mistress of Records, managing to neglect the fact that, whilst available, they weren’t so much on the coat hooks as still piled in store rooms elsewhere. Standing comfortably within the last remaining large robe, she could only picture how Count Rott would look in a small.
“I see… but I can only find small robes. I don’t suppose that one of you would be willing to trade with me for a large?” He asked. There was barely half a second of silence before Katherine erupted.
“How dare you ask other members of the council to disrobe during proceedings, against the explicit decrees of the empress!? If you cannot see a large on the hooks then it is your own incompetence, for there are many there! Perhaps if you are too blind to see a label then you are too blind to lead your demesne? Do you need to be replaced on the council?”
Had she been more awake, the empress might have questioned Katherine’s sudden fervour. As it was, she was willing to let Count Rott sit on the receiving end of another bewilderingly cantankerous outburst; besides, it might help to get him in a compliant mood.
“Oh no, of course not. Ah, I’ve found one now.” He quickly blurted in reply, although there had been no further sounds of rustling robes. That quickly changed when he began the process of wrestling himself into the insufficient confines of a small robe. “They are… tighter than I recall.” He muttered through his struggle. “Perhaps they are slightly smaller than those taken away?”
“They are, if anything, more generous than before!” Snapped Katherine. Then, unable to contain herself any longer, she leaned into the empress.
“I took the last large robe. This ought to teach him a lesson.”
Adirn offered no comment. Allowing Katherine’s power play was something that the blind empress thought she might well come to regret, but she was too tired to take action. Besides, Count Rott probably deserved to struggle a bit.
Behind Count Rott the door creaked open, and Baroness Asphyxia revealed herself by gasping airily in surprise.
“Wow! So we’re wearing the robes again now? Did I miss an edict again?” She asked in her breathless way.
“No, this was the first I knew of it as well.” Replied a partially-strangled Count Rott.
“Forgive me, Rott, but you’re not exactly famed for having your finger on the pulse of developments in the empire. Still planning yet another identical surprise attack to the one two decades ago?” Asphyxia sniped while pulling black fabric over her head.
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You can’t simply choke an entire nation, so it’s a little beyond your capability to comprehend.” Count Rott snapped back.
“Emperor Smog the Choker would disagree.” Katherine interjected from Adirn’s side. “If you cared to remember our history then you’d know that he got most of the way to subjugating The Fens by burning the bracken fields into an acrid smokescreen. The Fens choked half to death in their own homes.”
“And the Emperor’s own army choked all the way to death, if I recall.” Baroness Asphyxia added, with a spiteful mirth to her voice. “What a glorious crusade.”
The baroness’ smugness ceased abruptly with a dull thud and a breathy exclamation when the door opened again.
“Ouch!”
“Oh, sorry about that.” Came the voice of Lady Vipus, not sounding very apologetic at all. “Bit silly to be standing right in front of the door.”
“It’s where we always dress.” Complained the Baroness. “I think that you should be more careful when you’re coming in.”
“’Baroness struck in opening door shock while standing in doorway’. Has a good ring to it.” Oozed the unmistakable tones of Tabius Lloyd, right behind Lady Vipus. As his footsteps entered the chamber, however, he took on the suspicious silence of someone about to ask a question.
“Yes, the robes are to be worn.” Adirn said, before any of them could speak. With a muffled sigh she resigned herself to having the same conversation over and over again.
Baroness Asphyxia huffed quietly to herself, apparently moving away from the door, while the sound of more footsteps echoed up the staircase. The dark councillors muttered amongst themselves while they dressed, but Adirn found her attention drawn to the stairs. Underneath the thudding of boot against stone there was something else; a slight metallic rattling sound not dissimilar to that made by Lady Vipus’ jewel-bound fingers. With each pace it jingled in a manner that seemed vaguely familiar to the empress, but not sufficiently so to form a recollection in the emperor’s weary mind.
Before Adirn had managed to determine what the sound might be, the door swung open again. This time it managed to miss Baroness Asphyxia, but skimmed the back of Lord Tabius’ head much to her, and through it came the rattling, clopping steps that had ascended God Gouger Tower. The sounds of muttered conversations, grumbled arguments and rustling robes ceased immediately, in place of a tense silence.
“I see.” Said the voice of Countess Lascera, appraisingly.
The empress felt herself grow taller in reflexive fear, enough adrenaline flooding into her brain to escape any cavern of fatigue. She could picture perfectly well the lithe and spiteful frame of the countess, body covered flaying knives and leather straps, standing in front of her. To her side, she heard Captain Toxis’ robes rustle, at around the height of his scabbard. Everyone else in the room paused what they were doing and simply looked on; had the empress been able to see their faces, she suspected they would be masks of eager anticipation.
“Perhaps I needn’t have been so hasty in my protests about your law-making. It seems that your mind can be changed after all.” The countess said, wearing the unseen smirk that might well have been cut permanently into her cheeks. It flickered slightly as something crossed her mind. “But I am forgetting my manners. I… I apologise.” She said, obviously straining to remember how to say the words. Once they’d been spoken, however, and not that Adirn could see it, she gave a deep and reverential bow. As she moved the collection of knives strapped at various positions across her body rattled in their scabbards. “I wish you a good morning, your eminence.”
“Good morning, Countess Lascera.” The empress replied with a tight chest. If there was any time to demonstrate publicly that she’d truly accepted the Countess’ apology, then it was that moment. “Thank you for coming. We will address the robe decision once everyone has arrived, since I do not wish to repeat myself. Rest assured, however, that this is evidence of my ability to recognise when I have made errors in judgement. I am a reasonable ruler, not a tyrant.”
Sniggers came from the direction of Tabius Lloyd, but Adirn wasn’t in the mood for an argument with him. Not yet, anyway. Instead she let it slide while Countess Lascera grabbed a robe and took herself off to stand beneath a window, one foot placed flat against the wall to enable a more nonchalant brand of leaning. With one ear straining for any sound of unsheathing knives in her direction, Adirn waited patiently for everyone else to arrive.
To his credit, as much as Adirn loathed to give him any, Viscount Sinistere was the only member of the Dark Council who did not react with surprise at the robes upon entering. He instead, predictably, applauded Adirn’s calamitous wisdom and vision in keeping the Dark Council on their toes with frequent rule changes. The empress didn’t bother to correct his reasoning.
“Thank you all for coming.” Adirn finally started once everybody had arrived and successfully dressed themselves.
“This feels much more like it.” Lord Infernus announced, having waited patiently to speak until he could interrupt the empress. “Virum’s judgement be damned, you just can’t have a decent gathering of the Dark Council without some nice thick robes.”
Count Rott nodded, but was beginning to appreciate how much less he’d overheated when the robes were banned. He didn’t dare contradict Lord Infernus however; his own garrison was a sizeable part of the militia and would be necessary for the devastating surprise attack against the White Alliance he wanted to pitch to Adirn later. Besides, Lord Infernus probably liked overheating. Slowly, he recognised how redundant it had been to nod, but the moment for agreeing had passed.
“Your support in this matter is appreciated.” Said the empress, who had been expecting accusations of hypocrisy, or maybe some new complaint of spinelessness. Any show of agreement was worth applauding.
“Anything for our most diabolical empress, Oathbreaker Adirn Deepgrave the Denier.” Came the oil-soaked reply from the viscount. “Your broken robe-oath will surely be denied with terrible efficacy in the years to come.”
“I would very much appreciate not being called diabolical, The Denier, or Oathbreaker any longer.” Sighed the empress, for what felt like the hundredth time. Maybe they’d never stop using those names. Maybe they were doing it on purpose, she thought. Some of them probably were, but Viscount Sinistere was too sycophantic for such public subversions; he definitely thought he was complimenting her, and the notion made Adirn shudder.
“Perhaps we would not use the terms if you did not break your oaths or deny your actions.” Observed Lady Vipus, quite unnecessarily in Adirn’s opinion.
“Be proud! You’ve actually started to act like an empress of the Onyx Empire at last.” Katherine said, in what might have been her most devastating insult to date.
“Fine.” Adirn said, desperate for the subject to change. The words came out louder than she’d intended and there was a silent shuffling of awkward feet in the Skull Chamber. With one hand she pushed her hood back, both to see what was going on and to get some airflow to her face.
Gathered around the Skull Table was a semi-circle of robed individuals, all pointed approximately in her direction but without any two of them agreeing on exactly what that direction was. Just as suspected, Adirn was having no trouble identifying who was who, despite the robes.
Count Rott’s ill-fitting robes stopped half way between the elbows and wrists, as well as leaving everything from the knee-down exposed. Stretched over his belly and ruffled at the shoulders, the garment did little to flatter him. The hulking, muscular frame of Lord Infernus didn’t fare muche better, but Tabius Lloyd was sufficiently lean to get away with it at least the width of the robe on his torso. Lady Vipus’ rigidly jewellery bedecked hands were fully exposed, presumably in an effort not to catch and shred the sleeves, and Viscount Sinistere had almost soaked through his own robe with the intense oiliness of his demeanour.
All-in-all, it was trivially easy for the empress to recognise everyone in the room, regardless of the robes. She shook her head in distressed disappointment that she’d agreed to them being worn again.
“I have gathered you here to discuss a matter of grave importance to the empire, and one which will define all of our futures.”
“Hang on, you said you’d explain about the robes first.” Interjected Count Rott.
“Who cares, Rott. They’re back, and if The Denier doesn’t explain why then we needn’t sit through another of her lectures.” Barked Baron Infernus.
Adirn frowned, making a mental note to give him far more lectures in future.
“I discussed the matter with the Grand Priestess yesterday, and we agreed that Virum’s will was for robes to be worn. Such is the alignment of intentions between the throne and the Cathedral of the Deep.” The empress explained, trying to make it sound as final as possible. “Now we need to move on to more important things.”
“She’s being blackmailed.” Tabius Lloyd sniggered. “I heard about a decapitated bishop though, so perhaps the negotiations did have some merit.”
“You got to do a murder!” Erupted Count Rott in outrage. “First you torture Countess Lascera and now this!”
“Are you exempted from all of your own laws?” Tabius Lloyd asked with spiteful joy.
“Captain Toxis completed the ritual of authority by murder within the confines of the cathedral. It was all in accordance with ecumenical traditions, but one that I wish to end in due time.” Adirn replied. “If any of you wish to discuss matters of religion then I refer you to the Grand Priestess or Arch-Bishop Dagoth. For now, there are other matters.”
To the empress’ great surprise, this seemed to pacify the immediate outburst. There were a few murmurs from the Dark Council about practicing more holy rituals themselves in future, and Adirn told herself she’d deal with that problem later.
“As you may know,” she continued “we hosted a delegation from the White Alliance earlier today.”
There was a chorus of boos and derogatory noises from the Dark Council, including a few slurs with which Adirn was unfamiliar but that sounded utterly vile. It wasn’t a promising start, especially when they were already upset about her decapitating a bishop. “The purpose of their visit” she persisted, speaking over the dissent “was to invite me to attend the Divine Light Thomas Dove at his palace in Serenitas.”
“The songbird tweets his sickly melodies and hopes to tempt you in.” Tabius Lloyd sneered. “Every time the ruler changes he sends his delegation to poison the new incumbent with his own weaknesses. I assume that you intend to refuse the offer, like all before you have done?”
“Of course not!” Adirn replied, shocked at the notion. “I intend to pay a visit to Serenitas in two months’ time and try to scrape some kind of diplomatic relationship together.”
The sound that immediately filled the Skull Chamber was complex. It had elements of mirth from the raucous laughter, notes of despair from the pained sighs, agonised cries of anguish, and a reprise of the theatrical boos. Whilst she couldn’t accurately describe the reaction, Adirn knew intuitively that her plan hadn’t been popular with the Dark Council. Protestations ranging from arrogance to xenophobia and beyond assailed her from beneath manifold hoods; the resulting morass of noises was as unintelligible as it was fervent, comprising various voices with unified contempt. The only voices she didn’t hear were from Captain Toxis and, surprisingly to the empress, Countess Lascera.
“Alright, that’s enough!” Shouted Adirn. Although they ignored her at first, the Dark Council members soon remembered which sword wielder enforced the empress’ will. They quietened down but refused to settle.
“The empress seeks to commune with an insect.” Mocked Lady Vipus, raising a ring-encrusted hand to point towards where she believed Adirn to be standing. A window bore the brunt of the accusation.
“We might as well try to secure agreement from the sheep in our fields before we slaughter them for meat and burn down their fields.” Lord Infernus agreed.
“I said, that’s enough.” Growled Adirn. “Now listen to me, I have not enjoyed the events of the last few days. At every step you have all argued with, fought against and undermined me. There have been no fewer than three attempts on my life in the last two days and some of them were even at the hands of people who stand in this room. It ends now and it ends according to my will.”
“Your eminence?” Baroness Asphyxia said, raising her hand cautiously.
“Yes, Baroness?”
“I didn’t order any assassinations.”
“Good. Thank you for sharing.”
“I just don’t want you to stop me using the privy, you see. I rather need to go already so I thought I’d skip the potential torture and get straight to the confession. There’s nothing to confess, but that’s just coincidence.”
Adirn leaned forwards and flattened both palms, still within their sleeves, against the surface of the Skull Table. A few deep, calming breaths later, she straightened up again.
“I did not meaningfully torture anyone, and the first person to say that I’m earning the name The Denier by saying so might well find themselves meeting Captain Toxis’ blade.”
No-one made an accusation, but Baroness Asphyxia raised her hand again.
“Your eminence?”
“Yes?” Adirn sighed angrily.
“What about the second person to say it?”
“They’ll wish they were the first.”
Quietly, Katherine shuffled over to Adirn and placed a bony hand on the empress’ shoulder.
“Good job, Adirn. I’m proud of you.” Whispered the Mistress of Records. “Make sure you follow through with it though and have one of them killed, otherwise they’ll think you just make empty threats.”
Adirn chose to ignore what she’d just heard.
“Now as I was saying, I will be meeting with the pompously titled Divine Light Thomas Dove in two months’ time. Between now and then, we will prove to the White Alliance that the Onyx Empire is capable of changing, and therefore that I am capable of keeping my word.”
“Meaning what exactly?” Asked Countess Lascera, still leaned against the wall.
“Meaning that there will be no murders. Meaning that the drowning pools will be filled in with earth, the gallows will be torn down, the thumbscrews will be melted down, and no ears shall be pushed. Meaning that we will stop revering those who betray or poison or slaughter.”
“And to what end, exactly, do you seek to transform the Onyx Empire into a reflection of the White Alliance? How soon do you plan to sell us into the servitude of your friends across the border?” Tabius Lloyd asked. Adin could hear the arrogant smile that lurked beneath his hood.
“I seek to prove that we can be reasoned with. You might enjoy twisting words, Tabius, but I enjoy using them to do things like stopping the palace getting invaded, or writing off the frankly staggering reparations we are now paying to the White Alliance.”
“They’ll never agree to that!” Count Rott cried.
“Not if we keep invading them, I agree. But if we talk to them, if we make some kind of accord, then they might stop seeing us as nothing more than the promise of a blade in the spine.”
There was a pause.
“I’m confused.” Said Count Rott, with a refreshing honesty.
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“What do we or they have to get out of an accord? Why would we want an accord in place of a reliable mutual blackmail?”
The empress rubbed at her face.
“How can you fail to see what we stand to gain? Our coffers are all but empty because the White Alliance takes everything as recompense for the wars we keep starting. Food rots in the fields because you kill the farmers, or it gets stolen from the people and then they starve in the street. Goodness only knows how there’s still a population left in this Empire at the rate you’ve been cutting everyone down.”
“And how much time have you spent going out to see the lot of these peasants?” Asked Tabius Lloyd.
Silence hung again. Adirn opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it.
“As I thought. You’ve busied yourself in here, telling us what and what not to do. You do it all supposedly in the name of the people of whom you know so very, very little that every one of our traditions comes as a surprise to you. We are liars, your eminence. We’ve spent years practicing the art and are very good at it. You, however, are not. So please, enlighten us as to how the White Alliance’s favour could possibly assist an empire which has done just fine without them, despite its internal slaughter mechanisms.”
Adirn’s lip quivered. A lump formed in her throat that tried to push its way out of her neck. Whether it was the stress of arguing or the lack of sleep, she couldn’t say, but the floodgate opened.
“I get to not be murdered in a couple of years!” She shouted.
Silence returned, but there was no shock, or sympathy. Instead, there was a reaction vacuum; they saw nothing at all of any interest. Empress Adirn hadn’t been expecting a greatly altruistic response from the Dark Council, but to get nothing was a bit of a kick in the teeth. Tooth kicking was definitely against her new no-torture law, so that made it even worse.
“Is that why you’re doing all this?” Asked Captain Toxis, quietly. “Because you think it’s the only way you’ll survive longer than Emperor Tyrannick? Is this why you asked me if you had real power when you stood in the Stone Garden, before your coronation?”
“Well…it’s not only that. I also think that I’ll be able to help a lot more people if the White Alliance doesn’t march in and behead me. But I was strong-armed into this throne and I’ll be damned if I have to die because of that.”
“You realise that at least one of the assassination attempts was made exactly because you were trying to make these kinds of changes, your eminence, don’t you?”
Countess Lascera nodded enthusiastically to signal that Captain Toxis was completely correct.
“From what you were saying yesterday it sounds like I’d be in danger whatever happens, Keto. I might as well try to make a positive difference instead of dying as a monster like the other rulers did. But I don’t see why I shouldn’t try to avoid being killed at the same time. It’s not so selfish is it?”
Captain Toxis shrugged.
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Lord Infernus bellowed. “You stride in here from your pitiful hollow in Deepgrave Manor, with no idea of what the Onyx Empire stands for or how it operates, and force your weak whims upon us. You outlaw our livelihoods and our sacred traditions and we accept it. You prevent us from collecting the taxes we are due and we accept it. Maybe you’re trying to torture us, or become despotic, we tell ourselves. But no, that was too much to ask for. It’s all just an act to save your own sorry hide.”
“You’re right, Infernus.” Lady Vipus said. “If Auros were here she’d never stand for it. The empress indulges herself in all the torture of Countess Lascera that she pleases, beheads herself a bishop, and then expects us to give those same things up for her sake. What a reward it is for none of my peasants to be drowned; years of rule by the White Alliance’s puppet.”
Agitated motions from the robed figures made Adirn swallow hard. She took a half step backwards, closer to Captain Toxis.
“What happens if we say no, your eminence?” Asked Tabius Lloyd. “You don’t believe in murder or torture, so will you have us all apologise to you?”
“We have privies of our own.” Count Rott added, emboldened by his peers. “So you can’t use that one against us.”
“You will be tried for treason.” Adirn said, trying to sound imposing. It was more difficult to do that when retreating behind Captain Toxis.
“Your dungeons will fill very quickly, your eminence, and our heirs will not appreciate your rule any more than we do.” Lord Infernus observed. He knew better than to think that his own traitorous heir would try to secure his release. “You cannot imprison a whole empire.”
“You already seem to have done that to yourselves; trapped between the borders of the White Alliance and all-but impassable mountains. You’re dooming yourselves to this failing empire and dooming me to death! But there is a way out if you listen to me.”
“Never!” Lady Vipus shrieked.”
Adirn looked stonily at the dark hood hiding Lady Vipus’ face.
“And do the rest of you feel the same?” She asked, more softly. There was a chorus of agreement from all except Viscount Sinistere and, more unsettlingly, Countess Lascera.
“So be it then. I had not presumed that my life would actually matter to any of you, or that you would all agree with me. Your protestations to date have made it clear that your loyalty cannot be counted upon.” There were sniggers from the council at the mention of something so naïve as expecting loyalty. “You have forced my hand. I propose a series of mutual blackmails to secure your acquiescence to my edicts. There will be no murder or torture within my empire, and there shall be no more attempts on my life.”
Shocked gasps erupted from several robe-smothered mouths. The sound literally filled the room, since the shuffling and agitation had led to several council members rotating out of alignment. They were now facing in every direction except that in which Adirn stood.
“Baron Infernus. I understand that the Apothecaries’ Guild patronises your great fire pits and provides you with a vast sum of gold. You will not burn anyone or anything except firewood and coals, or I will have the Guild’s Guild advise that none must buy their charcoals from your demesne.”
“You dare!” He bellowed at the doorway. The hinges showed no sign of being intimidated.
“Lady Vipus.” Adirn continued, ignoring him. “Your hanging fields are to remain empty and disused. Break them down and turn them to lumber, or sell them to Baron Infernus for his charcoal industry,” she shot a glance in his direction “assuming he still has one. If you don’t then I will be forced to send my guards to your vault in search of a vast quantity of stolen jewellery.”
Seething, the Lady rubbed at her ring-stiffened fingers while looking daggers towards a patch of bare wall.
“Count Rott, you will set your militia to tilling the land and producing crops, and no-one shall invade the White Alliance, else the position of Lord General shall be given to someone more suitable.”
“Wha- this is absurd! None could match my strategic acumen!” Exclaimed the Count, incorrectly. In a feat of disorientation that would never see an equal, the count had addressed his comments directly upwards at the ceiling. It would have made Adirn worry about his neck, if she’d had any emotional energy left to care.
“Mary the Skullery maid could and will match up to your talents if my demands are not met.” Adirn snapped back. “Tabius Lloyd. Your venomous words will fall silent and you will speak only the truth as I understand the meaning of it, or your printing presses shall be seized by the crown and your spies incarcerated. Countess Lascera, you will have no access to livestock for skinning and your tanneries will be closed unless all of your subjects, and everyone else’s, for that matter, keep their own flesh intact.”
Blustering and outrage poured back at her, despite being addressed towards various parts of the architecture. Still she persisted in speaking ever louder.
“Viscount Sinistere…”
“You need no blackmail with me your most terrible eminence! I will follow your edicts even without a binding-”
“… you will be blackmailed! Your permission to operate and tax our markets, and to licence traders, shall be revoked unless you cease your insidious behaviour and… however it is you tend to torture people. I’m fuzzy on the details, but just be nice, alright?”
Affronted not only by the insistence on blackmail but also the insult of knowing his activities less than everyone else’s, Viscount Sinistere wrung his oily hands and nodded sombrely at the table legs.
“And Duchess Asphyxia. No-one is to be strangled, choked, suffocated, smothered, left to die in noxious gases or otherwise deprived of their breath. If you fail to comply, then your weaving houses shall be found guilty of producing smothering-sheets, and your profitable rug-making industry shall fail.”
The duchess wheezed something unintelligible and presumably explicit at the empress, but Adirn paid it no mind.
“I believe that addresses all of you here.”
Sweating under her robe from the thick heat, the sleep deprivation, and the anticipation of arguments to come, the empress waited in silence for her words to sink in.
“Indeed that does address those here, your diabolical eminence. But there are many who are not present; other members of the Dark Council and the lesser nobles who still enjoy our cultural pastimes. Are we to be especially punished for attending your farcical meetings? Will they be allowed to rampage on while we sit with shackled arms and clipped wings?” Tabius Lloyd asked of a nearby chair, angrily.
“No, Tabius. They shall be delivered the same edicts and their own mutual blackmails and will be held to the same account, now if you would please stop inventing attacks against yourself to incite anger against me, then things will progress far more smoothly. Such are the terms of your blackmail, after all.” Adirn growled.
“Oh, well forgive me if this could be misinterpreted as rumour or scandal, but it seems to me that our blackmail is not particularly mutual at this stage. Traditionally, both sides must be blackmailed to some degree, and you yourself are offering nothing at all. Did you think us easily fooled imbeciles, or are you just trying to set us up for failure?”
“Neither! I do not come to you empty-handed. I offer to transform this Dark Council into a true regency, allowing each of you a vote on any further decree I make. If I fail to offer you this freedom, then…” Adirn faltered for a moment “…then you will torture your prisoners until I make good on my end of the blackmail.”
Muttering bubbled from robe to robe, not really directed from any person to another, but generally spilling into the Skull Chamber at large.
“Is that the best you can do?” Tabius Lloyd finally asked, throwing out his arms in a broad gesture that slapped Count Rott in the back of the head. “You demand that we continue to give up everything, under threat of destroying our livelihoods, and in return you offer a minor taste of what we enjoyed without limit before? All for a chance to indulge in the pathetic exercise of ‘letting everyone decide together’? Not good enough.”
“I stand with Tabius.” Lady Vipus declared, holding an arm towards a window as if it were Lloyd himself. “No-one may offer the terms of how they themselves will be blackmailed.”
“She’s right! It’s preposterous.” Count Rott shouted.
“It is against tradition, your eminence.” Katherine confirmed.
“You may as well just make this another of your tyrannical decrees. Although perhaps tyrannical is the wrong word; it invites comparison to the vastly more competent Emperor Tyrranick. Now that was a ruler who knew how mutual blackmail could be abused.” Tabius Lloyd said.
“The future of the empire depends on this agr- er, this blackmail being honoured.” Adirn countered. “We will not be able to secure an understanding with the White Alliance unless my promises are kept and the Onyx Empire ceases to be a caricature of all that’s cruel! If we keep invading and refuse to enter a parlay with them then one day, and one day soon, they will decide that enough is enough, and we will be annexed. So something has to change.”
“We will not survive the White Alliance if you change us and make us soft.” Baron Infernus argued, booming furiously at Duchess Asphyxia’s elbow. “What you are saying is that we should open up the gates and let them waltz in here to make the place their own, slaughtering us and keeping you in power!”
“They waltz in whenever they like anyway! See our previous twelve military defeats if you need a reminder, and see how many times you’ve survived while the ruler fell.”
“Pah! You knew nothing about any of this until a handful of days ago and now you preach like you’re the authority here. Well you know nothing of the worth of my burnings, and a choice to…” he shuddered slightly “…vote…” he spat, but it landed inside his hood. Adirn could only imagine how unpleasant that was. “…on your childish whims is not a mutual term.”
“Exactly, Baron. Exactly.” Cried Tabius Lloyd. “So I propose a different set of terms for you, should you be able to stick to them, Oathbreaker.” The tall, lean frame poorly-hidden behind a small robe started to pace along the room. “Each of us here is to retain our power and demesne under your rule, and is not to be disadvantaged by whatever comes from your cowardly pleading with the White Alliance. But if you fail to deliver us into greater prosperity by your foolish games and its reigning bird,” he paced within toe-stubbing distance of a seat, but somehow missed it “or if you fail to grant us decision-making power by your pathetic voting system,” he swung an arm out and narrowly avoided slapping Lady Vipus across her cheek “and if our abstinence from those most vile practices that we cherish achieves nothing, other the corruption of our culture and our eventual targeting by the White Alliance,” he took a long, dramatic stride forwards, and delivered a devastating shin-blow to the unseen Skull Table that echoed through the room. All hidden faces turned to where they thought the sound had come from as Tabius made a wide array of hissing, sucking and yelping noises. Adirn waited patiently, and not without pleasure, for him to finish. “… ugh, ouch. If your pacifistic nonsense fails, then you will abdicate and take all of your ridiculous edicts with you.”
“Hear, hear!” Cried several other mouths, some of them getting partially clogged with hood as they did.
Adirn felt the blood drain from her face. She knew better than to think that an abdication would end in her freedom, especially when torture and murder would be legal again.
“That’s as good as condemning me to death!”
“My heart bleeds. Now do we have a mutual blackmail, or are your own demands to be ignored?”
“I…” she started, scrambling for any reasonable counterargument.
“Accept?” Tabius suggested.
Adirn looked from robed figure to robed figure. What could she possibly offer them that was more tempting than an ultimatum for her own demise?
“I…” she said again, in case it had a better impact this time.
“We are waiting, your eminence.” Tabius persisted.
The empress sighed. She had nothing.
“Fine.” She breathed. “But you must give me two years.”
“Two years?!” Shrieked Lady Vipus, her hood flapping in the direction of the floor. “We can’t live under your yoke for two years without anything to show for it, while you dally with the White Alliance as if they won’t be learning our deepest weaknesses!”
“And I can’t make any changes in less time than that.” The empress argued back. There was silence for a moment. “Look, Captain Toxis told me quite clearly that the life expectancy of a new ruler is two years, so give me that much time. If I fail to bring prosperity without resorting to evil, then you’ll be rid of me just as soon as if the White Alliance were repelling another of Count Rott’s moronic ‘surprise’ attacks.”
“Done.” Tabius Lloyd said, before any of the others could respond. “Two years from this day, you will cease to darken our throne room when your experiment fails.”
“Two years from this day I will survive as an Empress and we shall all be better off.” Adirn corrected. No-one seemed to agree with her viewpoint, and her own conviction in it wasn’t terribly strong. “Now as per the terms of your blackmail, Tabius, I believe your tone needs to be cleaned up.”
“Certainly, Oathbreaker Adirn the Denier. I shall be nothing but honest and transparent. Now if that concludes matters, may we be about our business? We all have significant restructuring to which to attend.” Tabius sneered.
“Of course, Lord Lloyd.”
In a jumble of rustling fabrics the Dark Council removed their robes, some of them deeply surprised at where they’d ended up facing, and hung them back on the hooks. As they filed from the room with terse and perfunctory goodbyes, save for the exuberant sycophantism of Viscount Sinistere and the disquieting sincerity of Countess Lascera, Adin resisted the urge to hug herself. She’d bought herself two years as long as the Dark Council could be relied upon, a dim prospect at best. But at last, and at the very least, she felt like she finally had a tangible goal; something that might really deliver her from the terrible fate of an empress.
“Ugh, gods.” The empress moaned, as her brain suddenly started to sag heavily at the edges. It felt like a jellyfish that someone was trying to draw down through the eye of a needle, squelching limply at the base of her skull in its unfathomable fatigue.
Shuffling and lurching over the threshold of the Skull Chamber, as her limbs protested against their wakefulness, Adirn collapsed onto one of the skull-shaped chairs and groaned.
“I need to sleep forever.”
“That can be arranged if you dismiss Captain Toxis for an hour or so.” Katherine advised. The empress scowled at her. “Or I’m sure that his brother could concoct you a draught of never-wakefulness. Very potent stuff. It’s what Baron Putra employed against the healers who stayed by his victims’ sick beds, if I recall. They never had to break their oath by leaving their patients, but they also couldn’t distribute the antidote any longer.” Mused the Mistress of Records. “A beautiful solution to the problem.”
“You have a brother?” Adirn asked Keto, ignoring the horror of what Katherine had just said and lifting her head to look at him. So full of fatigue were the bags under her eyes, however, that they weighed it back down again before she could see him respond.
“For the record, your eminence,” he said “I just shrugged.”
“Yet more to discuss…” said Adirn, before she was interrupted by a yawn “…at a more appropriate time.”
“Quite so. Right now we need to get our robes on, if I recall the most recent amendment to our doctrines.” The Mistress of Records prompted.
Adirn wanted to grumble at Katherine for letting her sit down before pointing out the robes, but that would have required too much energy. It was much more efficient just to lurch back to her feet, shamble over to the coat hooks and do as she was told.
Keto, showing no such signs of sleep deprivation, had already crossed to the hooks and taken for himself one of the floor-length garments of mystique from the end of the row. Since it saved her the effort of thinking about anything, the empress followed suit exactly.
“I don’t think you need a large robe, your eminence.” He advised her gently. “They are proportioned more generously for the likes of myself.”
The mere thought of rifling through the display of robes for one that might be more her size was enough to put the empress off that idea entirely. When she factored in the drudgery of having to try two, perhaps even three of them on for fit, however, her mind was immediately made up.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind it being baggy.” She yawned. “Besides, it gives me more fabric to hide and sleep in.”
“Hmph, well I don’t deserve any less fabric than either of you. I shall take a large as well.” Katherine declared, as if anyone had been trying to stop her. With her apparently valued prize resting in her arms she paused a moment more, before pulling gently at the collar of another robe on the hook. A smirk crossed her face. “Yes, I think this will do nicely.”
Late morning sunlight poured itself over the Skull Chamber, high up in God Gouger Tower. Its matte black surfaces absorbed every scrap of the heat, turning the interior into a high-altitude oven for despicable scheming. And yet, despite the heat, when members of the Dark Council arrived there after the long and arduous climb, they were confronted by three figures in heavy, floor-length black robes. Deep hoods engulfed the figures’ heads and excessive sleeves hid their hands in several inches of spare cloth. It was as if they sought to hide not only themselves, but both their pasts and their futures within the fabric.
“Oh, I… er…” Stammered Count Rott. Although lost within the folds and fabrics of her enormous black garment and blinded by the hood that hung over her face, Adirn could recognise the sound of his uncertainty anywhere. “The robes are back then.”
“It is, of course, important that we all wear our robes when convening the Dark Council.” She said, hoping equally that she was facing the right direction, and that she could feign some conviction in being dressed like an idiot. She was unable to see the shock on Count Rott’s face.
“Are you not worried about being hidden from Almighty Virum’s gaze?” Queried the Count, impressed with himself that’d he’d remembered the empress’ reasoning. There was a distraction in his voice, as if suspecting that he was the butt of some cruel joke that he couldn’t quite see yet.
“Almighty Virum will see what he sees. I have discussed the matter with the Grand Priestess and it is clear that the robes must remain in place.” Replied Adirn, carefully. “You will find them on the hooks, as ever.”
“Well, I… right. Yes, your eminence. I am glad that you have come to appreciate our ancient customs and traditions.” Said the Count. It sounded like he was moving towards the coat hooks, and that suspicion was reinforced by a vast quantity of huffing and rustling. “Are there no larges anymore?” He asked after a short while. Katherine sniggered to Adirn’s side.
“The same complement of robes are available as ever, Count.” Said the Mistress of Records, managing to neglect the fact that, whilst available, they weren’t so much on the coat hooks as still piled in store rooms elsewhere. Standing comfortably within the last remaining large robe, she could only picture how Count Rott would look in a small.
“I see… but I can only find small robes. I don’t suppose that one of you would be willing to trade with me for a large?” He asked. There was barely half a second of silence before Katherine erupted.
“How dare you ask other members of the council to disrobe during proceedings, against the explicit decrees of the empress!? If you cannot see a large on the hooks then it is your own incompetence, for there are many there! Perhaps if you are too blind to see a label then you are too blind to lead your demesne? Do you need to be replaced on the council?”
Had she been more awake, the empress might have questioned Katherine’s sudden fervour. As it was, she was willing to let Count Rott sit on the receiving end of another bewilderingly cantankerous outburst; besides, it might help to get him in a compliant mood.
“Oh no, of course not. Ah, I’ve found one now.” He quickly blurted in reply, although there had been no further sounds of rustling robes. That quickly changed when he began the process of wrestling himself into the insufficient confines of a small robe. “They are… tighter than I recall.” He muttered through his struggle. “Perhaps they are slightly smaller than those taken away?”
“They are, if anything, more generous than before!” Snapped Katherine. Then, unable to contain herself any longer, she leaned into the empress.
“I took the last large robe. This ought to teach him a lesson.”
Adirn offered no comment. Allowing Katherine’s power play was something that the blind empress thought she might well come to regret, but she was too tired to take action. Besides, Count Rott probably deserved to struggle a bit.
Behind Count Rott the door creaked open, and Baroness Asphyxia revealed herself by gasping airily in surprise.
“Wow! So we’re wearing the robes again now? Did I miss an edict again?” She asked in her breathless way.
“No, this was the first I knew of it as well.” Replied a partially-strangled Count Rott.
“Forgive me, Rott, but you’re not exactly famed for having your finger on the pulse of developments in the empire. Still planning yet another identical surprise attack to the one two decades ago?” Asphyxia sniped while pulling black fabric over her head.
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You can’t simply choke an entire nation, so it’s a little beyond your capability to comprehend.” Count Rott snapped back.
“Emperor Smog the Choker would disagree.” Katherine interjected from Adirn’s side. “If you cared to remember our history then you’d know that he got most of the way to subjugating The Fens by burning the bracken fields into an acrid smokescreen. The Fens choked half to death in their own homes.”
“And the Emperor’s own army choked all the way to death, if I recall.” Baroness Asphyxia added, with a spiteful mirth to her voice. “What a glorious crusade.”
The baroness’ smugness ceased abruptly with a dull thud and a breathy exclamation when the door opened again.
“Ouch!”
“Oh, sorry about that.” Came the voice of Lady Vipus, not sounding very apologetic at all. “Bit silly to be standing right in front of the door.”
“It’s where we always dress.” Complained the Baroness. “I think that you should be more careful when you’re coming in.”
“’Baroness struck in opening door shock while standing in doorway’. Has a good ring to it.” Oozed the unmistakable tones of Tabius Lloyd, right behind Lady Vipus. As his footsteps entered the chamber, however, he took on the suspicious silence of someone about to ask a question.
“Yes, the robes are to be worn.” Adirn said, before any of them could speak. With a muffled sigh she resigned herself to having the same conversation over and over again.
Baroness Asphyxia huffed quietly to herself, apparently moving away from the door, while the sound of more footsteps echoed up the staircase. The dark councillors muttered amongst themselves while they dressed, but Adirn found her attention drawn to the stairs. Underneath the thudding of boot against stone there was something else; a slight metallic rattling sound not dissimilar to that made by Lady Vipus’ jewel-bound fingers. With each pace it jingled in a manner that seemed vaguely familiar to the empress, but not sufficiently so to form a recollection in the emperor’s weary mind.
Before Adirn had managed to determine what the sound might be, the door swung open again. This time it managed to miss Baroness Asphyxia, but skimmed the back of Lord Tabius’ head much to her, and through it came the rattling, clopping steps that had ascended God Gouger Tower. The sounds of muttered conversations, grumbled arguments and rustling robes ceased immediately, in place of a tense silence.
“I see.” Said the voice of Countess Lascera, appraisingly.
The empress felt herself grow taller in reflexive fear, enough adrenaline flooding into her brain to escape any cavern of fatigue. She could picture perfectly well the lithe and spiteful frame of the countess, body covered flaying knives and leather straps, standing in front of her. To her side, she heard Captain Toxis’ robes rustle, at around the height of his scabbard. Everyone else in the room paused what they were doing and simply looked on; had the empress been able to see their faces, she suspected they would be masks of eager anticipation.
“Perhaps I needn’t have been so hasty in my protests about your law-making. It seems that your mind can be changed after all.” The countess said, wearing the unseen smirk that might well have been cut permanently into her cheeks. It flickered slightly as something crossed her mind. “But I am forgetting my manners. I… I apologise.” She said, obviously straining to remember how to say the words. Once they’d been spoken, however, and not that Adirn could see it, she gave a deep and reverential bow. As she moved the collection of knives strapped at various positions across her body rattled in their scabbards. “I wish you a good morning, your eminence.”
“Good morning, Countess Lascera.” The empress replied with a tight chest. If there was any time to demonstrate publicly that she’d truly accepted the Countess’ apology, then it was that moment. “Thank you for coming. We will address the robe decision once everyone has arrived, since I do not wish to repeat myself. Rest assured, however, that this is evidence of my ability to recognise when I have made errors in judgement. I am a reasonable ruler, not a tyrant.”
Sniggers came from the direction of Tabius Lloyd, but Adirn wasn’t in the mood for an argument with him. Not yet, anyway. Instead she let it slide while Countess Lascera grabbed a robe and took herself off to stand beneath a window, one foot placed flat against the wall to enable a more nonchalant brand of leaning. With one ear straining for any sound of unsheathing knives in her direction, Adirn waited patiently for everyone else to arrive.
To his credit, as much as Adirn loathed to give him any, Viscount Sinistere was the only member of the Dark Council who did not react with surprise at the robes upon entering. He instead, predictably, applauded Adirn’s calamitous wisdom and vision in keeping the Dark Council on their toes with frequent rule changes. The empress didn’t bother to correct his reasoning.
“Thank you all for coming.” Adirn finally started once everybody had arrived and successfully dressed themselves.
“This feels much more like it.” Lord Infernus announced, having waited patiently to speak until he could interrupt the empress. “Virum’s judgement be damned, you just can’t have a decent gathering of the Dark Council without some nice thick robes.”
Count Rott nodded, but was beginning to appreciate how much less he’d overheated when the robes were banned. He didn’t dare contradict Lord Infernus however; his own garrison was a sizeable part of the militia and would be necessary for the devastating surprise attack against the White Alliance he wanted to pitch to Adirn later. Besides, Lord Infernus probably liked overheating. Slowly, he recognised how redundant it had been to nod, but the moment for agreeing had passed.
“Your support in this matter is appreciated.” Said the empress, who had been expecting accusations of hypocrisy, or maybe some new complaint of spinelessness. Any show of agreement was worth applauding.
“Anything for our most diabolical empress, Oathbreaker Adirn Deepgrave the Denier.” Came the oil-soaked reply from the viscount. “Your broken robe-oath will surely be denied with terrible efficacy in the years to come.”
“I would very much appreciate not being called diabolical, The Denier, or Oathbreaker any longer.” Sighed the empress, for what felt like the hundredth time. Maybe they’d never stop using those names. Maybe they were doing it on purpose, she thought. Some of them probably were, but Viscount Sinistere was too sycophantic for such public subversions; he definitely thought he was complimenting her, and the notion made Adirn shudder.
“Perhaps we would not use the terms if you did not break your oaths or deny your actions.” Observed Lady Vipus, quite unnecessarily in Adirn’s opinion.
“Be proud! You’ve actually started to act like an empress of the Onyx Empire at last.” Katherine said, in what might have been her most devastating insult to date.
“Fine.” Adirn said, desperate for the subject to change. The words came out louder than she’d intended and there was a silent shuffling of awkward feet in the Skull Chamber. With one hand she pushed her hood back, both to see what was going on and to get some airflow to her face.
Gathered around the Skull Table was a semi-circle of robed individuals, all pointed approximately in her direction but without any two of them agreeing on exactly what that direction was. Just as suspected, Adirn was having no trouble identifying who was who, despite the robes.
Count Rott’s ill-fitting robes stopped half way between the elbows and wrists, as well as leaving everything from the knee-down exposed. Stretched over his belly and ruffled at the shoulders, the garment did little to flatter him. The hulking, muscular frame of Lord Infernus didn’t fare muche better, but Tabius Lloyd was sufficiently lean to get away with it at least the width of the robe on his torso. Lady Vipus’ rigidly jewellery bedecked hands were fully exposed, presumably in an effort not to catch and shred the sleeves, and Viscount Sinistere had almost soaked through his own robe with the intense oiliness of his demeanour.
All-in-all, it was trivially easy for the empress to recognise everyone in the room, regardless of the robes. She shook her head in distressed disappointment that she’d agreed to them being worn again.
“I have gathered you here to discuss a matter of grave importance to the empire, and one which will define all of our futures.”
“Hang on, you said you’d explain about the robes first.” Interjected Count Rott.
“Who cares, Rott. They’re back, and if The Denier doesn’t explain why then we needn’t sit through another of her lectures.” Barked Baron Infernus.
Adirn frowned, making a mental note to give him far more lectures in future.
“I discussed the matter with the Grand Priestess yesterday, and we agreed that Virum’s will was for robes to be worn. Such is the alignment of intentions between the throne and the Cathedral of the Deep.” The empress explained, trying to make it sound as final as possible. “Now we need to move on to more important things.”
“She’s being blackmailed.” Tabius Lloyd sniggered. “I heard about a decapitated bishop though, so perhaps the negotiations did have some merit.”
“You got to do a murder!” Erupted Count Rott in outrage. “First you torture Countess Lascera and now this!”
“Are you exempted from all of your own laws?” Tabius Lloyd asked with spiteful joy.
“Captain Toxis completed the ritual of authority by murder within the confines of the cathedral. It was all in accordance with ecumenical traditions, but one that I wish to end in due time.” Adirn replied. “If any of you wish to discuss matters of religion then I refer you to the Grand Priestess or Arch-Bishop Dagoth. For now, there are other matters.”
To the empress’ great surprise, this seemed to pacify the immediate outburst. There were a few murmurs from the Dark Council about practicing more holy rituals themselves in future, and Adirn told herself she’d deal with that problem later.
“As you may know,” she continued “we hosted a delegation from the White Alliance earlier today.”
There was a chorus of boos and derogatory noises from the Dark Council, including a few slurs with which Adirn was unfamiliar but that sounded utterly vile. It wasn’t a promising start, especially when they were already upset about her decapitating a bishop. “The purpose of their visit” she persisted, speaking over the dissent “was to invite me to attend the Divine Light Thomas Dove at his palace in Serenitas.”
“The songbird tweets his sickly melodies and hopes to tempt you in.” Tabius Lloyd sneered. “Every time the ruler changes he sends his delegation to poison the new incumbent with his own weaknesses. I assume that you intend to refuse the offer, like all before you have done?”
“Of course not!” Adirn replied, shocked at the notion. “I intend to pay a visit to Serenitas in two months’ time and try to scrape some kind of diplomatic relationship together.”
The sound that immediately filled the Skull Chamber was complex. It had elements of mirth from the raucous laughter, notes of despair from the pained sighs, agonised cries of anguish, and a reprise of the theatrical boos. Whilst she couldn’t accurately describe the reaction, Adirn knew intuitively that her plan hadn’t been popular with the Dark Council. Protestations ranging from arrogance to xenophobia and beyond assailed her from beneath manifold hoods; the resulting morass of noises was as unintelligible as it was fervent, comprising various voices with unified contempt. The only voices she didn’t hear were from Captain Toxis and, surprisingly to the empress, Countess Lascera.
“Alright, that’s enough!” Shouted Adirn. Although they ignored her at first, the Dark Council members soon remembered which sword wielder enforced the empress’ will. They quietened down but refused to settle.
“The empress seeks to commune with an insect.” Mocked Lady Vipus, raising a ring-encrusted hand to point towards where she believed Adirn to be standing. A window bore the brunt of the accusation.
“We might as well try to secure agreement from the sheep in our fields before we slaughter them for meat and burn down their fields.” Lord Infernus agreed.
“I said, that’s enough.” Growled Adirn. “Now listen to me, I have not enjoyed the events of the last few days. At every step you have all argued with, fought against and undermined me. There have been no fewer than three attempts on my life in the last two days and some of them were even at the hands of people who stand in this room. It ends now and it ends according to my will.”
“Your eminence?” Baroness Asphyxia said, raising her hand cautiously.
“Yes, Baroness?”
“I didn’t order any assassinations.”
“Good. Thank you for sharing.”
“I just don’t want you to stop me using the privy, you see. I rather need to go already so I thought I’d skip the potential torture and get straight to the confession. There’s nothing to confess, but that’s just coincidence.”
Adirn leaned forwards and flattened both palms, still within their sleeves, against the surface of the Skull Table. A few deep, calming breaths later, she straightened up again.
“I did not meaningfully torture anyone, and the first person to say that I’m earning the name The Denier by saying so might well find themselves meeting Captain Toxis’ blade.”
No-one made an accusation, but Baroness Asphyxia raised her hand again.
“Your eminence?”
“Yes?” Adirn sighed angrily.
“What about the second person to say it?”
“They’ll wish they were the first.”
Quietly, Katherine shuffled over to Adirn and placed a bony hand on the empress’ shoulder.
“Good job, Adirn. I’m proud of you.” Whispered the Mistress of Records. “Make sure you follow through with it though and have one of them killed, otherwise they’ll think you just make empty threats.”
Adirn chose to ignore what she’d just heard.
“Now as I was saying, I will be meeting with the pompously titled Divine Light Thomas Dove in two months’ time. Between now and then, we will prove to the White Alliance that the Onyx Empire is capable of changing, and therefore that I am capable of keeping my word.”
“Meaning what exactly?” Asked Countess Lascera, still leaned against the wall.
“Meaning that there will be no murders. Meaning that the drowning pools will be filled in with earth, the gallows will be torn down, the thumbscrews will be melted down, and no ears shall be pushed. Meaning that we will stop revering those who betray or poison or slaughter.”
“And to what end, exactly, do you seek to transform the Onyx Empire into a reflection of the White Alliance? How soon do you plan to sell us into the servitude of your friends across the border?” Tabius Lloyd asked. Adin could hear the arrogant smile that lurked beneath his hood.
“I seek to prove that we can be reasoned with. You might enjoy twisting words, Tabius, but I enjoy using them to do things like stopping the palace getting invaded, or writing off the frankly staggering reparations we are now paying to the White Alliance.”
“They’ll never agree to that!” Count Rott cried.
“Not if we keep invading them, I agree. But if we talk to them, if we make some kind of accord, then they might stop seeing us as nothing more than the promise of a blade in the spine.”
There was a pause.
“I’m confused.” Said Count Rott, with a refreshing honesty.
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“What do we or they have to get out of an accord? Why would we want an accord in place of a reliable mutual blackmail?”
The empress rubbed at her face.
“How can you fail to see what we stand to gain? Our coffers are all but empty because the White Alliance takes everything as recompense for the wars we keep starting. Food rots in the fields because you kill the farmers, or it gets stolen from the people and then they starve in the street. Goodness only knows how there’s still a population left in this Empire at the rate you’ve been cutting everyone down.”
“And how much time have you spent going out to see the lot of these peasants?” Asked Tabius Lloyd.
Silence hung again. Adirn opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it.
“As I thought. You’ve busied yourself in here, telling us what and what not to do. You do it all supposedly in the name of the people of whom you know so very, very little that every one of our traditions comes as a surprise to you. We are liars, your eminence. We’ve spent years practicing the art and are very good at it. You, however, are not. So please, enlighten us as to how the White Alliance’s favour could possibly assist an empire which has done just fine without them, despite its internal slaughter mechanisms.”
Adirn’s lip quivered. A lump formed in her throat that tried to push its way out of her neck. Whether it was the stress of arguing or the lack of sleep, she couldn’t say, but the floodgate opened.
“I get to not be murdered in a couple of years!” She shouted.
Silence returned, but there was no shock, or sympathy. Instead, there was a reaction vacuum; they saw nothing at all of any interest. Empress Adirn hadn’t been expecting a greatly altruistic response from the Dark Council, but to get nothing was a bit of a kick in the teeth. Tooth kicking was definitely against her new no-torture law, so that made it even worse.
“Is that why you’re doing all this?” Asked Captain Toxis, quietly. “Because you think it’s the only way you’ll survive longer than Emperor Tyrannick? Is this why you asked me if you had real power when you stood in the Stone Garden, before your coronation?”
“Well…it’s not only that. I also think that I’ll be able to help a lot more people if the White Alliance doesn’t march in and behead me. But I was strong-armed into this throne and I’ll be damned if I have to die because of that.”
“You realise that at least one of the assassination attempts was made exactly because you were trying to make these kinds of changes, your eminence, don’t you?”
Countess Lascera nodded enthusiastically to signal that Captain Toxis was completely correct.
“From what you were saying yesterday it sounds like I’d be in danger whatever happens, Keto. I might as well try to make a positive difference instead of dying as a monster like the other rulers did. But I don’t see why I shouldn’t try to avoid being killed at the same time. It’s not so selfish is it?”
Captain Toxis shrugged.
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Lord Infernus bellowed. “You stride in here from your pitiful hollow in Deepgrave Manor, with no idea of what the Onyx Empire stands for or how it operates, and force your weak whims upon us. You outlaw our livelihoods and our sacred traditions and we accept it. You prevent us from collecting the taxes we are due and we accept it. Maybe you’re trying to torture us, or become despotic, we tell ourselves. But no, that was too much to ask for. It’s all just an act to save your own sorry hide.”
“You’re right, Infernus.” Lady Vipus said. “If Auros were here she’d never stand for it. The empress indulges herself in all the torture of Countess Lascera that she pleases, beheads herself a bishop, and then expects us to give those same things up for her sake. What a reward it is for none of my peasants to be drowned; years of rule by the White Alliance’s puppet.”
Agitated motions from the robed figures made Adirn swallow hard. She took a half step backwards, closer to Captain Toxis.
“What happens if we say no, your eminence?” Asked Tabius Lloyd. “You don’t believe in murder or torture, so will you have us all apologise to you?”
“We have privies of our own.” Count Rott added, emboldened by his peers. “So you can’t use that one against us.”
“You will be tried for treason.” Adirn said, trying to sound imposing. It was more difficult to do that when retreating behind Captain Toxis.
“Your dungeons will fill very quickly, your eminence, and our heirs will not appreciate your rule any more than we do.” Lord Infernus observed. He knew better than to think that his own traitorous heir would try to secure his release. “You cannot imprison a whole empire.”
“You already seem to have done that to yourselves; trapped between the borders of the White Alliance and all-but impassable mountains. You’re dooming yourselves to this failing empire and dooming me to death! But there is a way out if you listen to me.”
“Never!” Lady Vipus shrieked.”
Adirn looked stonily at the dark hood hiding Lady Vipus’ face.
“And do the rest of you feel the same?” She asked, more softly. There was a chorus of agreement from all except Viscount Sinistere and, more unsettlingly, Countess Lascera.
“So be it then. I had not presumed that my life would actually matter to any of you, or that you would all agree with me. Your protestations to date have made it clear that your loyalty cannot be counted upon.” There were sniggers from the council at the mention of something so naïve as expecting loyalty. “You have forced my hand. I propose a series of mutual blackmails to secure your acquiescence to my edicts. There will be no murder or torture within my empire, and there shall be no more attempts on my life.”
Shocked gasps erupted from several robe-smothered mouths. The sound literally filled the room, since the shuffling and agitation had led to several council members rotating out of alignment. They were now facing in every direction except that in which Adirn stood.
“Baron Infernus. I understand that the Apothecaries’ Guild patronises your great fire pits and provides you with a vast sum of gold. You will not burn anyone or anything except firewood and coals, or I will have the Guild’s Guild advise that none must buy their charcoals from your demesne.”
“You dare!” He bellowed at the doorway. The hinges showed no sign of being intimidated.
“Lady Vipus.” Adirn continued, ignoring him. “Your hanging fields are to remain empty and disused. Break them down and turn them to lumber, or sell them to Baron Infernus for his charcoal industry,” she shot a glance in his direction “assuming he still has one. If you don’t then I will be forced to send my guards to your vault in search of a vast quantity of stolen jewellery.”
Seething, the Lady rubbed at her ring-stiffened fingers while looking daggers towards a patch of bare wall.
“Count Rott, you will set your militia to tilling the land and producing crops, and no-one shall invade the White Alliance, else the position of Lord General shall be given to someone more suitable.”
“Wha- this is absurd! None could match my strategic acumen!” Exclaimed the Count, incorrectly. In a feat of disorientation that would never see an equal, the count had addressed his comments directly upwards at the ceiling. It would have made Adirn worry about his neck, if she’d had any emotional energy left to care.
“Mary the Skullery maid could and will match up to your talents if my demands are not met.” Adirn snapped back. “Tabius Lloyd. Your venomous words will fall silent and you will speak only the truth as I understand the meaning of it, or your printing presses shall be seized by the crown and your spies incarcerated. Countess Lascera, you will have no access to livestock for skinning and your tanneries will be closed unless all of your subjects, and everyone else’s, for that matter, keep their own flesh intact.”
Blustering and outrage poured back at her, despite being addressed towards various parts of the architecture. Still she persisted in speaking ever louder.
“Viscount Sinistere…”
“You need no blackmail with me your most terrible eminence! I will follow your edicts even without a binding-”
“… you will be blackmailed! Your permission to operate and tax our markets, and to licence traders, shall be revoked unless you cease your insidious behaviour and… however it is you tend to torture people. I’m fuzzy on the details, but just be nice, alright?”
Affronted not only by the insistence on blackmail but also the insult of knowing his activities less than everyone else’s, Viscount Sinistere wrung his oily hands and nodded sombrely at the table legs.
“And Duchess Asphyxia. No-one is to be strangled, choked, suffocated, smothered, left to die in noxious gases or otherwise deprived of their breath. If you fail to comply, then your weaving houses shall be found guilty of producing smothering-sheets, and your profitable rug-making industry shall fail.”
The duchess wheezed something unintelligible and presumably explicit at the empress, but Adirn paid it no mind.
“I believe that addresses all of you here.”
Sweating under her robe from the thick heat, the sleep deprivation, and the anticipation of arguments to come, the empress waited in silence for her words to sink in.
“Indeed that does address those here, your diabolical eminence. But there are many who are not present; other members of the Dark Council and the lesser nobles who still enjoy our cultural pastimes. Are we to be especially punished for attending your farcical meetings? Will they be allowed to rampage on while we sit with shackled arms and clipped wings?” Tabius Lloyd asked of a nearby chair, angrily.
“No, Tabius. They shall be delivered the same edicts and their own mutual blackmails and will be held to the same account, now if you would please stop inventing attacks against yourself to incite anger against me, then things will progress far more smoothly. Such are the terms of your blackmail, after all.” Adirn growled.
“Oh, well forgive me if this could be misinterpreted as rumour or scandal, but it seems to me that our blackmail is not particularly mutual at this stage. Traditionally, both sides must be blackmailed to some degree, and you yourself are offering nothing at all. Did you think us easily fooled imbeciles, or are you just trying to set us up for failure?”
“Neither! I do not come to you empty-handed. I offer to transform this Dark Council into a true regency, allowing each of you a vote on any further decree I make. If I fail to offer you this freedom, then…” Adirn faltered for a moment “…then you will torture your prisoners until I make good on my end of the blackmail.”
Muttering bubbled from robe to robe, not really directed from any person to another, but generally spilling into the Skull Chamber at large.
“Is that the best you can do?” Tabius Lloyd finally asked, throwing out his arms in a broad gesture that slapped Count Rott in the back of the head. “You demand that we continue to give up everything, under threat of destroying our livelihoods, and in return you offer a minor taste of what we enjoyed without limit before? All for a chance to indulge in the pathetic exercise of ‘letting everyone decide together’? Not good enough.”
“I stand with Tabius.” Lady Vipus declared, holding an arm towards a window as if it were Lloyd himself. “No-one may offer the terms of how they themselves will be blackmailed.”
“She’s right! It’s preposterous.” Count Rott shouted.
“It is against tradition, your eminence.” Katherine confirmed.
“You may as well just make this another of your tyrannical decrees. Although perhaps tyrannical is the wrong word; it invites comparison to the vastly more competent Emperor Tyrranick. Now that was a ruler who knew how mutual blackmail could be abused.” Tabius Lloyd said.
“The future of the empire depends on this agr- er, this blackmail being honoured.” Adirn countered. “We will not be able to secure an understanding with the White Alliance unless my promises are kept and the Onyx Empire ceases to be a caricature of all that’s cruel! If we keep invading and refuse to enter a parlay with them then one day, and one day soon, they will decide that enough is enough, and we will be annexed. So something has to change.”
“We will not survive the White Alliance if you change us and make us soft.” Baron Infernus argued, booming furiously at Duchess Asphyxia’s elbow. “What you are saying is that we should open up the gates and let them waltz in here to make the place their own, slaughtering us and keeping you in power!”
“They waltz in whenever they like anyway! See our previous twelve military defeats if you need a reminder, and see how many times you’ve survived while the ruler fell.”
“Pah! You knew nothing about any of this until a handful of days ago and now you preach like you’re the authority here. Well you know nothing of the worth of my burnings, and a choice to…” he shuddered slightly “…vote…” he spat, but it landed inside his hood. Adirn could only imagine how unpleasant that was. “…on your childish whims is not a mutual term.”
“Exactly, Baron. Exactly.” Cried Tabius Lloyd. “So I propose a different set of terms for you, should you be able to stick to them, Oathbreaker.” The tall, lean frame poorly-hidden behind a small robe started to pace along the room. “Each of us here is to retain our power and demesne under your rule, and is not to be disadvantaged by whatever comes from your cowardly pleading with the White Alliance. But if you fail to deliver us into greater prosperity by your foolish games and its reigning bird,” he paced within toe-stubbing distance of a seat, but somehow missed it “or if you fail to grant us decision-making power by your pathetic voting system,” he swung an arm out and narrowly avoided slapping Lady Vipus across her cheek “and if our abstinence from those most vile practices that we cherish achieves nothing, other the corruption of our culture and our eventual targeting by the White Alliance,” he took a long, dramatic stride forwards, and delivered a devastating shin-blow to the unseen Skull Table that echoed through the room. All hidden faces turned to where they thought the sound had come from as Tabius made a wide array of hissing, sucking and yelping noises. Adirn waited patiently, and not without pleasure, for him to finish. “… ugh, ouch. If your pacifistic nonsense fails, then you will abdicate and take all of your ridiculous edicts with you.”
“Hear, hear!” Cried several other mouths, some of them getting partially clogged with hood as they did.
Adirn felt the blood drain from her face. She knew better than to think that an abdication would end in her freedom, especially when torture and murder would be legal again.
“That’s as good as condemning me to death!”
“My heart bleeds. Now do we have a mutual blackmail, or are your own demands to be ignored?”
“I…” she started, scrambling for any reasonable counterargument.
“Accept?” Tabius suggested.
Adirn looked from robed figure to robed figure. What could she possibly offer them that was more tempting than an ultimatum for her own demise?
“I…” she said again, in case it had a better impact this time.
“We are waiting, your eminence.” Tabius persisted.
The empress sighed. She had nothing.
“Fine.” She breathed. “But you must give me two years.”
“Two years?!” Shrieked Lady Vipus, her hood flapping in the direction of the floor. “We can’t live under your yoke for two years without anything to show for it, while you dally with the White Alliance as if they won’t be learning our deepest weaknesses!”
“And I can’t make any changes in less time than that.” The empress argued back. There was silence for a moment. “Look, Captain Toxis told me quite clearly that the life expectancy of a new ruler is two years, so give me that much time. If I fail to bring prosperity without resorting to evil, then you’ll be rid of me just as soon as if the White Alliance were repelling another of Count Rott’s moronic ‘surprise’ attacks.”
“Done.” Tabius Lloyd said, before any of the others could respond. “Two years from this day, you will cease to darken our throne room when your experiment fails.”
“Two years from this day I will survive as an Empress and we shall all be better off.” Adirn corrected. No-one seemed to agree with her viewpoint, and her own conviction in it wasn’t terribly strong. “Now as per the terms of your blackmail, Tabius, I believe your tone needs to be cleaned up.”
“Certainly, Oathbreaker Adirn the Denier. I shall be nothing but honest and transparent. Now if that concludes matters, may we be about our business? We all have significant restructuring to which to attend.” Tabius sneered.
“Of course, Lord Lloyd.”
In a jumble of rustling fabrics the Dark Council removed their robes, some of them deeply surprised at where they’d ended up facing, and hung them back on the hooks. As they filed from the room with terse and perfunctory goodbyes, save for the exuberant sycophantism of Viscount Sinistere and the disquieting sincerity of Countess Lascera, Adin resisted the urge to hug herself. She’d bought herself two years as long as the Dark Council could be relied upon, a dim prospect at best. But at last, and at the very least, she felt like she finally had a tangible goal; something that might really deliver her from the terrible fate of an empress.