Chapter 8: Demitos

The Emperor stared down at the jagged-edged sheet of paper I’d torn from Tulonan’s notebook, his wide dark eyes scanning the lines of text. After a few minutes of perusing the document, he looked up at me.

 “I’m sorry about the quality of my handwriting,” I said. “I was scribbling as fast I could under the light of a flickering torch.”

 He planted his elbows on the desk and rested his chin in his hands.

 I wanted to look away from his staring eyes.

 His long silence seemed to eclipse my train of thought.

 “I thought this would be useful to you,” I said.

 He reached down and opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a vellum scroll, which he unrolled before me.

 I glanced at the beautifully calligraphed lines of verse and realized they were what I’d transcribed from the obelisk.

 “So maybe what I wrote isn’t very useful to you. Sorry, I thought I was onto something.”

 “You are,” he said, rolling up the scroll and replacing it in the desk drawer. “Your discovery proves he’s down in the catacombs. This is more information than we’ve been able to get out of Nebiat the wine steward.” 

 I cleared my throat reflexively. 

“How is he? That is, if I may ask.”

“You may.” Fodineo handed my page back to me and I quickly slid it into my satchel. “He’s extremely uncooperative.”

 “Then he’s alive?”

 I felt my heart racing.

 The Emperor sat back in his chair and turned his head up to the skylight above him.

 “Darvino is having a difficult time with him. That old man is just too damned stubborn. These people are extremely fanatical in their devotion. I must confess, my patience is beginning to run rather low.”

 I leaned forward. “May I see him?”

 Fodineo pulled his gaze from the skylight and stared at me. “Why?”

 A nervous gasp escaped my lips. 

 “I…I just want to make sure he’s safe.”

 “That should not be one of your concerns, Syndeeka.”

 “Um, well, I have nothing else to offer you now in terms of new information. May I be excused?”

 “Is that boy Bardrakeu crying over his old butler?”

 I looked at my lap. “Yes. Yes, he’s very upset right now.”

 I felt my eyes moistening, but I dared not put my fingers to them.

 “Does he suspect me?”

 “Uh, no. He doesn’t think you’re responsible for Nebiat’s disappearance.”

 The Emperor sighed. “Well, that’s a relief. Sometimes my schemes double back on me.” He waved a hand at me. “You’re dismissed, stargazer.”

 I collected my things and stood. “Darvino told me I could report my findings to him.”

 Fodineo eyebrows rose. “Oh, he did, did he?”

 “I’m afraid I don’t completely trust him.”

 “And you shouldn’t. That upstart pup has his uses, but he’s also endowed with my family’s craftiness. Just report anything you learn to me. My cousin sometimes likes to play people against each other. If you put too much faith in that boy your head could wind up on the chopping block.”

 My meeting with the Deity Imperator had disheartened me, and I immediately sought after his lover, Demitos, and asked him if there was somewhere on the palace grounds we could speak in private.

 “Follow me,” he said.

 I tagged my way behind him as he passed through several great halls and adjoining corridors and then up two flights of stairs. We eventually found ourselves in a small open-air courtyard garden lined with tall palm trees. He directed me to sit on the black marble rim of a water basin. Trickling at the basin’s center was a small brass fountain.

 I put my face in my hands and exhaled through my fingers.

 “I don’t know how long I can do this anymore,” I said.

 Demitos sat next to me, adjusting red velvet robes over his muscular frame. “Are you worried about what happens when your time is up? That you might not be able to complete the assignment?”

 I pulled my hands off my face and crossed my legs. “Not just that, although I am concerned about Mala if I don’t succeed. But this whole business with Nebiat is eating away at my insides. He doesn’t deserve what he’s going through. Do you know if he’s being tortured?”

 Demitos looked up at a small cloud as it blotted out the sun. “I think you know the answer to that.”

 “What about what Fodineo told you at your commitment ceremony? You said he wanted to be a more just and kind ruler.”

 Demitos laughed dryly. “I never said that. He told me that he wanted to be a better ruler and that he’d try to turn his back on his old vices. The
Quabenos’ idea of being good rulers has nothing to do with kindness. Why would it? They’re tyrants. He basically told me that he wanted to be more like his father and keep the citizenry complacent and happy.”

 “So he’s not above killing innocent people, then?”

 Demitos cupped his hand, dipped it into the basin, and brought it to his mouth, oblivious to the droplets splashing the marble rim next to him. 

 “From what you’ve said about Nebiat, Syndeeka, I have trouble thinking of that man as innocent. But, no, my lover has hardly given up violence as a means to an end.”

 I hissed through my teeth. “This is all getting so far out of hand. I wish I could just escape.”

 “You and Mala?”

 “And you as well. I know you feel trapped here in this palace.”

 Demitos stared at the arched colonnade at one end of the courtyard. “There still might be a way out.”

 “Really? How?”

 “There was an old fisherman who used to come to court every month with prized catches. One time he even brought in a swordfish. My parents were farmers and of common stock, so I found it easy to strike up a friendship with the old man.

 “He has a large fishing boat that he’d pilot out to sea in order to find  the best fish for Imperial banquets. He’d always offered to give me a ride in it someday and take me out to a private island he’d discovered years ago. He’s retired now, but I know how to get in touch with him.”

 I sighed. “So we’d all just spend our remaining years bumping about a small island that’s not on any mariner’s map? Part of that offer sounds attractive. The other half sounds maddening.”

 “Well, think of the alternative. And anyway, you never know. Fodineo could be deposed… or even, the gods forbid, assassinated.”