Empire of Avarice (54 page)

Istan pulled such a furious face that Vosgaris was taken
aback. Was there so much malice in such a young person already? Vosgaris stood
up and loomed over him. “If I catch you behaving like that again – to anyone –
you know what you’ll get from me!”

“I’m telling father!” Istan stormed. “He’ll have your
head cut off! I hate you!” the three year old spat and ran off, bawling in
outrage.

“Good riddance,” Vosgaris commented. He looked at Rousa.
“He should have been disciplined long ago. He’ll needs a firm hand from now on.
Otherwise you’ll be trying to cope with a monster there.”

Rousa put her head in her hands. “Oh no, oh no; you’ve
made things worse now! I’m going to have to try to calm him down. Oh dear, oh
dear,” and she waddled out after Istan into the passageway outside.

Argan was rubbing his head ruefully, and eating the cake
with his free hand. He had fought back the tears because he wasn’t going to
show Istan that he was a cry baby. Besides, he had his cake. And Vosgaris had
taken his side against Istan and nobody had ever done that before. He thought
Vosgaris was the best ever. It made him feel very happy.

“Are you alright, young prince?” Vosgaris asked, seating
himself. He glanced at the worried looking Mr Sen who had done nothing except
eat during the entire scene. Even as Argan was nodding back at him, Vosgaris
smiled crookedly at Mr Sen. “Looking forward to teaching Istan? Can’t be long
now before he starts.”

Mr Sen looked glum. “I’m not sure I can handle such a
temper. He certainly is his father’s son.”

“I worry once he grows up; if he’s still like that
goodness knows what will happen. He needs knocking into some sort of civilised
state. That nurse has ruined him.”

The door opened and Astiras came in, holding a crying
Istan in his arms, followed by Isbel and Rousa. Everyone stood up. “So,”
Astiras glared at Vosgaris, “I hear you’ve been beating my son here. Like to
explain your conduct, Captain? Striking a prince of the blood? Do you value
your position here, or even your life?”

Vosgaris saluted and gave his account of what had gone
on. The emperor glowered but unexpectedly Mr Sen stood up and backed Vosgaris’
story. The emperor decided to believe what he’d been told. He looked from
Vosgaris to Argan. “Well, Argan? My – how you have grown! You’re going to be a
big strong man, I can see!” he grinned, and held out one arm. Argan ran to him
and flung his arms around him, and got a nasty kick from Istan who was glaring
down at him. Argan yelled and thumped the offending leg hard. Istan screamed
and flailed at Argan in sheer temper. Astiras pulled both apart and set them
down, a hand around each. “Is this how you two carry on? I’ve come back to find
my two sons are barbarians!”

“He always starts it, father!” Argan accused his brother
who was pulling a face at him.

“So I’m beginning to hear.” He looked at Rousa. “I think
your services are no longer required, nurse. From now on my sons will need a
firmer hand.”

Rousa looked shocked and put her hands to her mouth. Isbel
looked surprised. “Astiras...” she began.

“If these two were women, then Rousa would be suitable. But
you’ve seen these two. I’m frankly disappointed nobody has stopped it – apart
from the Captain here.” Astiras dismissed Rousa with a flick of his fingers. The
nurse turned about and ran out, sobbing. Isbel scowled at her husband, then
chased after Rousa.

“Women!” Astiras said heavily. “The gods help me! Right
you two,” he looked down at both boys. “You are princes, both of you. Perhaps
one day one of you may even be emperor. But only if you start behaving properly
and not like barbarians. Kastania does not need barbarian emperors. Do both of
you understand?”

“Yes, father,” Argan nodded eagerly.

Istan scowled. Eventually, after some prompting, he
mumbled his assent. Astiras grinned, hugged both boys and then stepped back. “Well,
I must have a good look at both of you.” He gave each a long, pleased scrutiny.
“Yes, you are both growing up fast! Big and strong I want you.”

“Are you staying now you’re back, father?” Argan asked.

Astiras grinned and shook his head. “Sadly, no. I must
still fight a war in Bragal but we’re winning. Teduskis is looking after things
there while I’m away. I’ll have to go back next sevenday but I’m here for a few
days, just to see how things are here and to be with my two sons!”

Argan smiled. Istan was still sulking and didn’t react.

 “Now you two – go to your seats. It’s time we ate – I’m
starving!” Astiras announced and sat the two boys either side of him. Vosgaris
hovered behind Argan, making sure he was seated safely. Other people came
filing in, including the empress. She said nothing to Astiras, but the two red
spots on her cheeks indicated she was less than happy with him. Rousa was not
with her.

Astiras smiled at his wife but it wasn’t returned. “Ah! It’s
lovely to be back with my happy family,” he said with a huge breath of air.

Vosgaris smirked behind his hand, while Isbel pursed her
lips and glared at his sarcasm. Mr Sen wisely looked down at his napkin and the
other diners said nothing. Astiras was an intimidating presence there, and the
relaxed meals of the past were forgotten.

“Tell me, Captain,” the emperor said, turning to
Vosgaris, “how do you feel about taking over the guardianship of Prince Istan?”

Isbel looked up sharply. “He has Argan to look after,
Astiras! He can’t possibly deal with both boys, especially as they are going to
be in different places throughout the day!”

“Indeed,” Astiras swung an arm idly over the back of his
chair. “Then, dear, you find someone appropriate to take up the exacting task,
or I’ll appoint Captain Vosgaris here to take care of Istan full time.”

“I shall certainly do that!” Isbel snapped, “now you’ve
so heartlessly dismissed Rousa! And after the years of service she’s given us. She
brought up Amne….”

“I’m fully aware of what she’s done,” Astiras turned to
his wife, “and what’s she not done, which is just as important. Istan needs a
firm hand to bring him up, not a wet blanket of a nurse! I won’t have him
becoming uncontrollable.” He looked at Istan, oblivious to the conversation,
tucking into a fruit assortment.

“I’m their mother, Astiras, and I ought to have some say
in their upbringing.”

“That you are,” Astiras agreed, “and you do. But this
one matter is something I’ve noticed almost the moment I’ve set my eyes on him
and I don’t like it. It’s all well and good being tough, but this streak of –
nastiness – needs to be controlled or we’ll have a big problem on our hands
before we know it.”

Isbel wasn’t going to be deterred however. “We will
speak of this later. For the moment its best not to carry this on in front of
the children.”

“As you say, dear,” Astiras said, sitting up straighter
in his chair.

“And don’t ‘dear’ me, Astiras Koros!”

The emperor rolled his eyes. “I’m beginning to think
facing a Bragalese insurrection is much more preferable than dining in my own
palace.”

“Well you know where Bragal is,” Isbel said acidly. “If
you prefer to go there I won’t stop you!”

“You know you’re quite attractive when you’re angry,”
Astiras said mildly.

“Oohh!” Isbel clenched her fists and looked away from
her husband.

Argan looked in confusion at his parents. Why were they
cross with one another? They hadn’t seen each other for such a long time. Argan
was pleased his father had come home. He would have thought mother would have
been pleased too, for she had often said she wished he was here. Now he was
here, she was cross at him. He didn’t know why grown-ups did the things they
did. He might ask Vosgaris later.

As things turned out he didn’t have much of a chance. After
the meal he was whisked outside to fence with Panat Afos while Istan was put
into the hands of two young Holy Virgins, women destined for a life within the
temples of the empire. While not permitted to be preaching clerics, they
performed many valuable and important functions, from ensuring the temples were
kept clean to tending the sick, infirm, or needy. The temples were the
spiritual guides of the empire. Astiras had summoned the two to take care of
Istan in the short term while a proper guardian was found.

Isbel had waited until Istan had gone before curtly
gesturing him to join her in their chamber. Two guards took up their posts as
the doors slammed shut, and they exchanged knowing looks.

Within the luxurious room Isbel swung round, furious. “How
dare you come here and start throwing your weight around with my children! How
dare you dismiss a faithful retainer like that! In front of all of us – it was
so embarrassing! The poor woman is inconsolable! So close to retirement and
suddenly you cut off her living without a moment’s thought! If this is how you
intend governing the empire you can do it without my help!”

Astiras gave her a long silent look, then grabbed a
chair and swung it round, sitting himself back to front so his arms rested on
the back as he faced Isbel. “Have you been blind to Istan’s temperament? It
struck me the moment I saw what he was like, and after hearing what the others
said, it was clear nobody had done anything to stop him. The child needs
guidance, not a free rein! He needs to know he cannot have whatever he wants,
Isbel. Rousa was not the right person to look after him, clearly.”

“All the same, Astiras, you were wrong to dismiss Rousa
like that! I had to calm her down and promise her a pension. And a place to
live in the palace.”

“Oh?”

“Oh indeed!” Isbel said with some heat. “You had no idea
she had no home of her own, did you? Do you in fact have any idea of the
private life of our retainers? You were going to throw her out on the street
alone and with no living! She would have had to beg in the streets!”

“Ah,” Astiras scratched his face thoughtfully. “It
appears I was a touch hasty there.”

“A touch? That’s you all over, Astiras. Charging in like
a male bovine in a pottery shed. Smash! Bang! Wallop! No thought of the damage
you do. Ohh, sometimes I could scream.”

“One of my more attractive traits,” the emperor grinned.

“It’s not funny!” Isbel almost shrieked. “Put away that
war head you’ve still got on and start being considerate, if you’re capable!”

“Apologies, ma’am,” Astiras saluted.

“One of these days I’m going to really lose my temper
with you. I don’t care if you’re emperor of this nation; I’m going to put you
in your place.”

Astiras spread his hands out wide. “Alright, alright. I’m
sorry, Isbel. Arrange for Rousa to stay on in some capacity, but the boys have
outgrown her. We’ll have to think of someone more suitable to guard and guide
Istan from now on. I must say Argan’s growing up into a very polite and good
looking young man. By the gods, hasn’t he shot up these past two years?”

“You really think so? I’ve had a few problems with him
recently.” Isbel looked troubled. Now Astiras was here she felt self-conscious,
as if she felt she was letting him down as the mother of his children. She
admitted to herself his actions had stung her motherly pride. “I’m glad you
approve of Argan.”

“You’ve done a wonderful job, Isbel,” Astiras said. He
saw her expression. “I’m being serious. What with running the administration of
the empire too in my absence. I’m very proud of you. It must have been tough.”

“You’ve no idea how tough it’s been, coping with the
other nobles, and the merchants, the finances, the bickering, arguing, back
stabbing. It’s like dealing with a whole bunch of children!”

“I can guess. I’m proud of you, really.”

 Isbel looked at her husband for a moment, and he got
out of the chair and embraced her. Something snapped inside her and she
collapsed into his arms and broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. The effort of
having to be strong, to hold together the empire against the competing factions
while her husband was far away fighting a war, had finally become too much. Astiras
coming home had been the catalyst that had done it; her self-reliance had
relaxed now he was here, and she desperately needed him. Their disagreement
that afternoon had used up the last of her mental reserves and now she
surrendered her emotions to him.

Astiras held her close. While not fully understanding
why she was crying her heart out into his chest, he knew she needed his
physical assurance. It made him feel good. Even as Isbel wept out her feelings
in a cathartic rush, Astiras smiled.

____

The Council meeting the next morning was much brisker
than had been of late. Astiras held the chair and backed up Isbel’s policies. It
was, as he had promised her the previous evening, important once again to show
everyone that the Koros were speaking with one voice. Isbel sat next to Astiras
silently, feeling more secure in her mind than she had for some time. All the
unsettling feelings she’d had the previous day over the dismissal of Rousa had
gone. Her man was supporting her publicly. It gave her an upwelling feeling of
love for him.

“I don’t care that you’re unhappy about the lack of
militia to patrol the roads throughout the empire, Panat,” Astiras snapped,
glaring at the ex-general across the table. “The fact is that at present the
treasury is unable to support the employment of the hundreds of men it would
take. We’re having to divert funds to the infrastructure that has been allowed
to rot for too long. In time, yes, we will rebuild the internal security of our
precious empire, but we cannot both employ a large army and repair the roads,
ports and buildings.”