Retiring of the Purple (TT, Samheen 26th, public)

[Grant]

The Citadel's curious, circular shape towered over the courtyard like a stern mountain, reaching high into the air where it's many poles, towers, and parapets remained naked and undecorated with any color at all. The traditional disposition of a fortress with no ruler. But the Citadel was still the heart of the empire, albeit a broken heart, darkened with the internal strife and struggle of it's most powerful citizens wrestling to collect the shattered pieces of the once glorious Empire of the Seven Isles. Today was such a day, only four weeks after the fall of Caesar Anochrim, as another great piece of the old Empire was poised to fade into history forever.

Gathered in two great formations, the gathered strength of the Purple Guard...now some eight hundred souls all told...stood in the clear, warm weather, no cloud in the sky at all, awaiting the order they all knew would come. Today the legacy of the Purple Guard would fade into history, the colors, tabards, banners and crests retired to the Imperial Vaults until some Caesar of the future would gather the blessings of the Gods and raise them again. But there was no talk or thought for that distant, glorious future. Instead, there was only the sight of the rising steps before the fortress itself...steps guarded by white tabards...and occupied by none other than the Lord Chancellor of the Empire, the Lord Advocate of Citadel, and the Major Domos, Lord of Citadel Fortress.

And of course, Hector Anzilo, Lord Chancellor of the Empire, was pissed. He hadn't exactly been beaten...this move had come too quickly, and behind his notice...but it was a decisive strike. He knew as well as anyone that what happened before his very eyes today was the work of a man bent on taking the entire Empire for his own, and no doubt a man in league with the Major Domos himself, though Hector had no proof of such as yet. Still, it mattered very little. The real struggle for power in the Citadel would take place at the Advisory Council...and he was still the Lord Chancellor, and he could still make a difference. Until they kill me, too, he added darkly, having moved himself into the barracks only to find himself forced to move once again. Not even Sosa could protect him now, and that was...very telling indeed.

Hector didn't bother to speak at first. He had requested the Major Domos to deliver the parting orders, because it was the Citadel that had been the home of the Purple Guard through time unremembered. Instead, Hector could only stand powerless and watch, watching as perhaps the best hope for the Empire's future were disbanded and left to disperse into the city, their tabards left behind in the center of the Courtyard plaza and later shifted to storage.

[Andolin]

Who would have thought that so much would change in so little time? Not many days before, Andolin was Lord Clerk of the Chamber ... little more than Marius' sidekick. Now, he was the Major Domus of the Citadel. Now he was a voice to be heard in the Advisory Council. Now, he had formed his own guard unit -- loyal to him, without the interference of Sosa. Notwithstanding the setbacks visited upon him by the netherworld, his star was rising and little was beyond his reach. Isabella would have been so proud.

Now it was time for him to set the stage for the next turn of the wheel. By being the featured speaker this day, he was stepping forward into the limelight to be heard as one of the inner circle of the Empire. It was important that he be perceived as a leader who could act decisively, but with compassion and justice. Such traits inspired men to serve faithfully. One could be gracious at a time of victory.

"Soldiers of the Purple Guard," he called out with authority. "You are assembled here today to bear witness to the end of an era and the beginning of the new. The Guard has served Caesar faithfully for many yahren, helping to maintain order and security here at the heart of the Empire thereby. With the passing of Caesar Anochrim, the Empire and the Citadel has felt the loss of his direction. It is time to build a guard unit devoted to the cause of security of the Citadel, the heart of the Empire, rather than a unit devoted primarily to the safety of one person."

"In the absence of a Caesar, I have formed the Imperial Guard to serve the purpose of ensuring stability and security ... a goal much more important than it was in the past. Many of the Purple have been invited to join the White. Until there is a new Caesar to decide whether there will be a need for a Purple Guard, you will be disbanded to return to your homes. Should you find yourself unwilling to bear the risk and uncertainty of your future without a position, I want to assure you that I will do everything I can for your welfare. We would welcome your application to join the Imperial Guard, and we will see to it that your pay and housing remain uneffected. We will take steps to see to it that you will share in the pride of service."

"Not every man or woman among you will be selected to join the Imperial Guard. We want only those who understand the meaning of duty and loyalty. We want only those unafraid of the uncertain challenges ahead. We want only those who would give their lives to see the Empire strong again. The others are free to go their own way to make whatever living is devoid of these things."

"Now, invoking the power vested in me as Lord of the Chamber, and Major Domus, and with the concurrence of the Lord Chancellor and Lord Advocate, I stand ready to proclaim that the Purple Guard is to be officially disbanded."

Turning to the Chancellor and Lord Advocates, Andolin asked, "milords, would you add any words before the final dismissal?"

[Elvin Motricé]

The Adhiel at one side looking at what might be one of the most important events he had seen in his life. Even to one with his naïveté it was evident what was happening. With the death of the Caesar a power vacuum was created in the political structure of the Seven Isles and the internal battle for power was starting to affect the populace.

Rumours about the strangest things that were happening were told throughout the city. His new home was a perfect place to pick up on these things. A wry smile briefly played around the Mentor’s lips: ”Those in the academic world are probably the worst scandalmongers that are out there. People with intelligence that don’t use their intelligence.”

Instinctively Elvin drew his robes closer around him and shuddered: ”800 strong… Not only the best defence of the Caesar but also the best defence of this city,” the mage thought sadly.

His mind wandered through the last few months, remembering all the things he had seen and learned. ”Darkness is building up and violence is brewing… I’ve walked this world for more then a century now and in the last few months I’ve heard, and seen, more about dark entities then in the last decades.”

He focussed back on the present as the Major Domus started his speech. It was a nice speech, the Elf had to admit that, yet something seemed lacking… ”Sincerity? the mage wondered, “Whatever it is. Something is lacking. There’s something not as it should be…”

He let his eyes wander over the Purple Guards and wondered what everyone here was feeling. He smiled suddenly: ”Why am I guessing when I can estimate their emotional state?” Elvin altered his senses so that he could see the aura’s of others. A useful trick he had learned while researching the possibility to inspect his own body by magical means, shortly after he had encountered Elaine he’d beginning to expand to other people as he tried to understand how it was to have an empathic gift.

When he had been arrested he’d made a promise to try and help out as much as he could, and in his own way, to protect this Empire. Not because he loved the Empire but because of the hurt it would bring others if this turmoil would spread.

[Grant]

Glancing over at Hector Anzilo and Stephan Matiro, Andolin found neither one of them willing to speak. Hector merely nodded...No, not a Gods-damned thing from me...while Stephen smiled politely in that sanguine way of his and nodded his head. "Nothing from me, milord Chamber."

Of course, as far as the broad-reaching implications of this day, Stephan Matiro was largely an empty seat. His was a more tertiary, almost uncommitted involvement in the state of the Empire or the Citadel, and in an effort to remain unbiased, he himself had brought this moment to life. Oh, it hadn't been his machinations that brought the Purple Guard down...but it had been his ruling...his arbitration...that had found this result to be necessary. And what of Command...ah...of LADY Sosa? Will she retire to some distant island? Or will she just...disappear forever?

In the distance, Andolin caught sight of Silk. It wasn't unusual that the Imperial Secretary would present himself for such an event, but what was unusual was the way in which the Tyrant lingered his gaze upon the Major Domos, an almost ebullient, secretive gaze that didn't deviate from Andolin's person for an instant. He was moving closer, but not quickly...clearly waiting until the Guardsmen were officially dismissed before he would speak to the Major Domos.<hr>There was precious nothing Elvin could glean from the collected crowd save confusion. Where he stood near the Courtyard entrance, several other locals had gathered...far less than he might have believed...and they looked on with rapt amazement at the proceedings that were no doubt the most historically significant they might witness in their lifetimes. But there were far too many people and far too many emotions floating around...and Elvin accomplished very little that he might have otherwise accomplished by simply watching the faces of the stoic, motionless guards.

Confused they were...and perhaps depressed...and all awaiting their final dismissal when they would depart the Citadel as common civilians once more, no longer in any employment at all.

[Andolin]

Andolin found it curious that neither man chose to speak. Was it not important to establish one's presence before the Advisory Council meeting? Perhaps they intended to play the game much as he -- with a lower profile. No matter.

"I now proclaim the Guard dismissed. May the Light shine upon you and may you remain alert for the call to serve the Empire again." It was a benediction of sorts -- a secular one perhaps, but in the same tone.

Pausing any further words, he watched for the soldiers to begin their withdrawal. He also returned Silk's gaze for a few flickers ... noting his movements. Turning to the men beside him, Andolin uttered, "a new chapter begins gentlemen."

[Grant]

Ah, yes. May the Light shine upon you, and may you remain alert for the call to...serve...the Empire again, repeated Silk to himself, standing a distance away and watching the assembled soldiers of the Empire begin advancing by file to the center of the courtyard. It was a very precious vision...one he would certainly relish for yahren to come...and the only thing he might have wanted to make it truly complete would be a bonfire into which the tabards could be thrown. Now that would be a Light to truly shine upon these imbeciles.

But there were other things to which he must attend. After all, he had his protege to recruit and place upon the Caesar's throne, and there was his own future. After all, Silk needed to be certain that he was in a fine position even after the new Caesar was chosen, especially if the worst should happen and it wouldn't be someone of his choosing. That was what brought him here in truth...to speak to the Major Domos. Seeing the silly Purples broken up and cast to the wind was...simply a convenient pleasure.<hr>Now the guards were, file by file, turning in their tabards to build a large pile at the center of the courtyard and moving towards the courtyard gates to either join the civilians looking on or, more likely, to walk away from the Citadel Fortress, their hearts dark and their minds clouded in confusion. By the looks upon their faces and the clouds that hung over their heads, not a one fully understood what happened here today, but they did know that they were finished. It wasn't the order that made it so very clear, but the presence of the other guards...the ones in white...that gave their fate to be undeniable. Shifting past Elvin in a straggling line, few of them bothered to look to either side as they slipped out into the Patrician's Ring and away from the duty that had upheld the honor and integrity of the Empire for generations.<hr>We're gonna need a new army, thought Hector, watching the event with a cold detachment that he desperately hoped would not fail him. The Purple Guard had never been much of an army. Built more for diplomacy and tact, they never numbered much more than a thousand souls...but they had been just, at least as just as they knew to be. And those one thousand swords could have held the Citadel for months against any invader, for the Citadel herself was the very epitome of perfection in fortress designs. Massive and lethal, it's very walls had cost thousands and thousands of lives to top or breach in times past...and that with no more than a thousand defenders.

But Hector wasn't at all concerned about defending the Citadel. That wasn't his Office, and frankly, it wasn't the way to win. Winning required battles to be taken up where they were fought, and this battle...the war that was slowly growing upon all of them...was one of attrition that threatened to capitalize on the Empire's internal strife and fragmentation to devour it piece by piece. The Purple Guard would have accompanied a Caesar to go do battle with these new enemies...but Hector didn't for a moment entertain any belief that these...Imperial Guards would be so selfless. I'd be as effective hurling harsh language at the West! fumed the Chancellor silently.

Enough. Enough of today...enough of this. He needed a drink, and he needed to move. He had taken up residence in the Purple Guard barracks, presumably for his safety though there was another agenda at work deep within Hector's hidden desires. He had a new place arranged...a place where he wouldn't be safe, but he would at least be in the open...and so he had to go collect his office and have it shifted once more. And while he was at it, maybe he could figure out what the Tyrant had up his sleeve? Whatever it is, he'll need to show his hand soon enough. The Advisory Council begins in a few marks.

Nodding once to Andolin, Hector spun on his heel and strode back into the Citadel, the Lord Advocate quick upon his heel like any good dog. This left Andolin alone upon the dais to watch as the Purple Guard were disbanded...alone, but with the Imperial Secretary just at hand and closing slowly, clearly unwilling to disturb the Major Domos until he had been properly recognized.<hr>Where he stood beside the slowly staggering line of withdrawing ex-Purple Guardsmen, Elvin could see up past the dwindling formations to the dais before the Palace, a dais that once held three people but now held only one. Andolin Azarin. And while he watched, the slight figure of Silk came into view, a few of the more discreet guards of Silk's pay constantly shifting around him such that they remained only just out of notice though never completely out of sight. The Imperial Secretary wore a very unusual outfit for the day...an outfit of deep burgundy, curiously enough...and his peppered hair was rather well-groomed along with his new beard, a recent change to his appearance that was still in it's stubbling, appearing as little more than a dark shadow over the lower portion of his face. They were a very long distance away, but they stood out against the bleak, dark background of the looming Citadel like two stars in the night sky.

[Andolin]

Andolin watched the guard break ranks and depart. Similarly, he watched the Chancellor and Advocate depart. He had been distracted of late. Isabella's death was still fresh. Kitya was possessed, the Citadel almost lost, and now the greatest political chapter in the history of the Empire was about to begin. Though his love had been the dark arts, Andolin's greatest love was power, including power over women, riches, and armies. Orginally, his path to power had lay in the use of magic and the dark arts. Now the path of politician had opened to him and he had taken to it like the proverbial fish to water. Anochrim had built his power with the sword. It had been impressive, but he was rendered mostly a puppet by those who did not need to wield a sword. Swords were for lackeys. It was guile and wit that was the greatest weapon of all.

It was only natural for the Major Domus to put in place his shields as he saw Silk at a distance. He could claim that he did so to prevent others from listening to their conversation. Coming down from the dias, Andolin moved to greet the Imperial Secretary. "Milord," he greeted formally, as he paused to inspect the new color chosen by Silk this day. "To what do we owe this new look?" he uttered cheerfully. "A new chapter perhaps?" He paused to give the older man an opportunity to reply before adding, "a sad day for the guard, no?" The way he phrased it, Andolin conveyed that he was anything but sad about the passing of Sosa's power base.

[Grant]

Silk only offered a slight smile in response to Andolin's comments on his dress. While blacks and dark, dark blues was his choice, he found himself expanding in recent days...perhaps adapting to more daring risks both in attire and action. This would be one such day, and it was with no small amount of concern he would have to phrase his pitch to the Major Domos carefully. Still, careful or not, this was a good day, and watching the Purple Guard disappear forever was only the first of what he hoped to be many massive victories for the new Empire.

"Oh, they've had quite their share of...ill fortune of late, have they not?" replied Silk with sympathy and surprise that was almost convincing...but not quite. There was no great doubt in anyone's heart...anyone in any way connected...that the Purple Guard had been in some way trapped and broken, and while Silk didn't consider it his finer of machinations, he did consider it the most crucial step forward for his new order. The next step lay with Andolin Azarin, of course. Here we go.

"Frankly, milord Chamberlain, they've managed to meet the fate they...truly deserve. And I think we all should feel lucky to do so. Which is why I wanted to speak to you just now, Lord Azarin. I found and questioned the most interesting fellow the other day, and he had the most wonderful things to say about you. You know, there has been...some talk regarding your legitimacy, and really, I was growing rather tired of it, so I...well, acting in the role of the Imperial Secretary, you understand...investigated your past. I was very fortunate, and I have in my possession proof of your legitimacy and peerage in the Western Kingdoms," began Silk, smiling pleasantly. "That should silence all that continue to pester you over your past and your adequacy for your Office. In fact, I believe you truly deserve more than that."

Silk paused for a moment to see how Andolin would handle the news. After all, the documents he had were very forged, of course...and anyone could forge such a document...but Silk had personally arranged for Andolin's peerage to be supported by those in World's Mouth who stood to profit by such an arrangement, and in World's Mouth...well...that was no great feat as the city was run by highly negotiable people. Curious how birthrights can be purchased if one goes to the right market? reflected the Tyrant very briefly. His remarks also held behind it the weight that he had indeed completed his research and elected not to challenge Andolin's legitimacy. After all, Silk was partial to Andolin, and in the Tyrant's goals of assuming control of the entire world, he would of course require Lieutenants of some ability. And Lieutenants that might be...leveraged.

"I wonder if we might speak in private a little more? I have...a proposition for you that I hope you will look upon with some favor. Frankly, milord Chamberlain, you have connections that might benefit the Empire greatly...and I, for one, would like to see you get what you truly deserve."

[Andolin]

So that is his game. Andolin was somewhat disappointed. His legitimacy as a noble was critical at one time, but no longer. That Silk thought this could be an avenue to secure his loyalty seemed almost ... amateurish. A threat, or promise of wealth or support would have been far more effective in securing his support.

It was not clear if Silk thought that his approach was a blackmail attempt, or an attempt to offer support. Andolin, being a fraud himself, knew that Silk could offer only fraudulent documents in support Fraudulaent documents were easy to come by.

"Milord is most gracious," the Major Domus declared softly. "I was not aware that anyone would care to question the legitimacy of my House. I find it humorous actually. Not only is House Azarin little more than a shell anymore, but it is a title in World's Mouth. It is not something I care about anymore. I bear no desire to have any claim of fealty being imposed on me by a foreign ruler. I am a citizen of the Empire, not of the Western Kingdom. As best I can tell, I was born in the Empire and spent my life here. I know nothing of the Mouth, nor do I care frankly."

Andolin was speaking the truth. His title was more a liability than an asset now. "In fact, I am thinking of renouncing my title as Duke. It is mostly ceremonial anyway. I would seek your advice on the topic." Andolin hoped he had made perfectly clear to Silk just how little he valued the Azarin legacy.

"I am a lord of the Empire now. Being Lord of the Chamber is all I care about. It is to the Empire, and the next Caesar, that I shall owe my fealty," he announced noblely. Whether Silk chose to believe it or not was up to the Imperial Secretary.

Now was time to move off the topic and focus on the more important carrot that was being offered. "I would be eager to continue our conversation milord. How could I not be intrigued by a proposition originating from such a man of quality? Shall we retire to more private chambers?"

[Elvin Motricé]

Elvin had expected that the swirl of emotions would be too great to read but nevertheless it was good practice and one could only get better by practicing. The Adhiel watched silently as the Guard filtered out the courtyard and felt sympathy for these men who had offered their loyalty to the Caesar and were rewarded in such a way.

The mage wasn’t in the least surprised when Silk came into view. “He has played this game for a long time. He knows when to make a move…” For a moment he wished that he could hear what the Imperial Secretary was saying but remembering the man’s proficiency with magic and his other skills he decided against even trying.

He had hoped he’ld see someone familiar but unfortunately he hadn’t. “This is a bad week… First yesterday and now this!” the Mentor thought, blaming himself once again that he should have paid more attention to what was going on. He had been so engrossed in his research that he failed to see Professor Peckerton leave. Something of importance had happened and he hadn’t noticed.

Elvin was growing frustrated. Everything seemed to go wrong. His research came along rather nicely, yes. But his magic wasn’t improving and, worst of all, finding more information about mindcraft from books just wasn’t working. If only he knew more people in this city! But where else then the University or the Bardic College could you find people with the proper knowledge? And who of those could you trust?

Deciding that he needed something to drink, the Elf turned away from the commotion and wanted to head towards the Burping Dragon. He stopped and hesitated. Maybe he should go to the Bardic College instead? His frustration was building. The two members of staff in the University whom he was certain he could trust were nowhere to be found and he had no freaking idea where he could go to! Although he had been in the city for more then a fortnight he spent more time trapped in a dungeon and unconscious in a bed then doing something useful!

[Grant]

"Oh, no, milord Chancellor...you do not have that luxury. You should know far better than that. It isn't what you care about that will ruin you, but what your enemies care about. They can and will use your heritage against you, and they will do it successfully, so you must save your own apathy and disregard for your own council," countered the Secretary, his smile for a moment almost paternal. "You have spent enough time in the Citadel to know that what might be legal is certainly not what might be popular. For example, you were never a Duke, your grace, and if your claim is a cause for tensions with the Western Kingdoms, that will stand a great bearing upon your status as a government official. It is cause for...dismissal, at the very least."

The Tyrant's smile broadened. Naturally, Andolin was trying to distance himself from his earlier claims...and the artificial peerage upon which his career was based. It was, after all, a weak point in the man...and was it not only natural for men to conceal or distance themselves from their weaknesses? He is far too fortunate to have me to guard it for him, thought Silk. Or perhaps I am the fortunate one? It is all a one, I suppose. And now to demonstrate that this leash does indeed hold, and he will indeed play this game.

"Of course, the Lord Chancellor would never for a moment humor any Western claims that your peerage was manufactured given that we have adequate proof of your birthright. Admittedly, my information hardly places you as a duke, but...I think such a minor embellishment of your position is only humorous and quite harmless. And your connections to the West will speak well upon you in our coming struggle with the boy-King and his Oneist hordes...it lends you credibility...but as far as renouncing a title you don't actually have, you will do no such thing. The less attention drawn to it, the better...or we'll both end up thrown off the island in disgrace," he admonished, though the likelihood of that ever actually happening was almost laughable. After all, Silk's history was well-documented and well-known...and for now, his involvement in Andolin's history was clinical at best.

"Now let me tell you what I do know about you," he continued, moving a few steps away as if he would lead Andolin, distancing both men from the growing spectacle of the evaporating Purple Guard below. "I know that you were a vassal lord of World's Mouth, displaced by the same Merchant Lords that displaced so many land holders in the last couple hundred yahren. I know this because I have adequate proof of it, and I've filed that proof with the Imperial Archives. That is legitimacy, Lord Azarin, and you should respect it. After all, if you really wanted to be a peasant, I'm sure that could be arranged as well...but I can't have a peasant for a Caesar, and that's what I want from you."

"Now that I know I'm dealing with a Western Lord, let me tell you what you will do...for the good of the Empire. First, you will name me as Lord Clerk of the Chamber. This is...insurance to insure you remain perfectly safe. Then I will, in turn, name you as candidate for Caesar. And then all you need do is...be the Caesar. Only when you hold that position will your...true heritage mean nothing. There are, of course, alternatives...but none of them include a Lord of the Western Kingdoms, so be very, very careful what you choose, Lord Azarin. I can be a very...helpful ally when you rule the Empire of the Seven Isles. I'm always very helpful to my allies. As for my enemies..." Silk waved a hand out over the courtyard of the Citadel, demonstrating the large pile of purple tabards that grew as the once-proud organization evaporated into history. "...I can be...something very different."<hr>Unnoticed and disregarded by the two gentlemen that remained upon the high dais of the Citadel's mighty entrance, the Purple Guard continued to file out, guards no more. There was a strange sense of silence that had fallen over the courtyard, a sense of unease that had always been present but hadn't had any tangible proof until the large pile of tabards grew to such a size that they could be clearly seen from the courtyard entrance. The guard truly were gone, and Elvin could see them as they filed out. He never caught sight of Ulder...the infamous Captain rumored dead...and he never saw Commander Sosa, the legendary Commander of the unit, the lady Paladin either already gone or refusing to attend this rather historic moment.

Before too much longer, the courtyard would be empty and the Citadel would be without a garrison. In more ways than one, the heart of the Empire was changing before his very eyes.

[Andolin]

Things were taking an ugly turn. Silk was moving on to threaten him with ruin. That was not unexpected; but, the method of using his manufactured nobility as his cudgel. Andolin had to wonder what Silk really knew. It was impossible to prove that he was the Duke, but it was impossible to prove that he was not ... unless the real Duke appeared. That was the reason he had chosen the Azarin family to join. Having no family members to dispute his legitimacy was a clear bonus.

Andolin had also convinced the scholar Hawthorne that he was legitimate. That was as good as evidence as he could muster. He also had a very nice signet ring made. It caused him to bring up his hand to examine his ring. How can Silk know anything about my legitimacy? He was left to suspect that the man was bluffing when he claimed that he was no Duke. If Andolin confessed the fraud, it would give Silk an additional hold over him. The stakes in the Imperial game were too high to give anyone that type of power.

"I shall heed your counsel, of course. If you think it best to not draw attention to my title, I will follow your advice. It may be as you say, that I am no Duke, for my father may still be alive. He has been missing for some time." That was a true statement in that Andolin assumed that Balik was his real father and the man was presumably dead ... but he could not be sure. It was good to speak in statements that were true, or mostly so, in case Silk had an ability to detect truth somehow. With all the magic in the world, surely such a power was possible. For others, one did not need magic to detect the indicia of falsehoods.

When Silk sought to be named Clerk of the Chamber, it caused Andolin's paranoia to kindle. If he is Clerk of the Chamber, then he becomes Chamberlain when I am killed. It would allow him to be Imperial Secretary and Chamberlain both. A potent combination. When Silk offered him the title of Caesar, he wanted to smirk, but did not. Having Silk advance his name would do nothing but doom his candidacy. Andolin had already thought this through. If he was to have any chance, he would need to be the compromise candidate rather than the candidate of one faction. But, how could he delicately refuse?

There were two paths to take. The first was to play dumb and let Silk think himself smarter than Andolin. That would have the advantage of appearing to be no risk to Silk. However, it would likely mean that he would never be Caesar ... and that he would be assassinated. That did not seem very attractive at the moment.

The other path was to reveal himself as a man capable of crafty thought as well. The danger was that Silk would view him as too dangerous and have him killed, but there was an equal chance that he might not do so if he thought he had Andolin's support. It also had the advantage of paving the way to him becoming Caesar. The key was to find a way for Silk to view him as a useful asset, but not too dangerous to have as an ally.

"You flatter me sir," Andolin began softly. "I think I have already demonstrated whose friendship that I have sought out. I have found you to be the best patron to have at Court, especially with the passing of Anochrim. You have no fear of that," he assured the Imperial Secretary.

"As for what you offer me, in the way of a nomination, it really is far too much for my liking," he said truthfully. "You will pardon my naivete I hope, as I am still a relative newcomer. If you have the votes necessary to secure the next Caesar without contest, then we should speak further about why you see me as a good candidate for Caesar. If you do not have the necessary votes yet, then I would ask you to consider my own proposal."

Looking around to insure their privacy, he continued in a whisper. "I have some worth to you by being seen to be in your camp completely ... " he began, "but I think you are a very shrewd man. It is why I would seek to align myself with you. My value to you would be more than double in the coming Imperial game if I were thought to be ... opposed to you. If we were to appear to argue here and have a falling out, other groups that did not have your best interests at heart would approach me. Need I go on?" He did not think he needed to. "We would need a way to converse in secret, of course. Then, knowing the hearts of the others while appearing to be neutral and credible, imagine everyone's surprise when, at the critical moment I ceased opposing you, and convinced others to support your plans." He gave a sly smile.

Now he needed to give Silk some additional assurance. "As you have pointed out already, there are various reasons why I would not seek to cross you. I am wise enough to know that you hold the strings of the Empire, as well as the power of life or death over me."

"I suspect you are not an insecure man, milord, so why not devise a plan to communicate secretly now, and then end this conversation in a terrible argument." A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

[Grant]

"Oh, I'm quite familiar with that tactic. In truth, I've used it many times before," admitted Silk, though he offered no further thought on the tactic. In truth, he had done far more than to present a public facade of rivalry. In times past, he had held elections in Muchislie in which all the candidates on the ballot were under his power...and therefore ready to drop out or withdraw as the Tyrant commanded. That tactic was so much easier than simply rigging votes, though he had a system in place to do this as well. After all, nothing in Muchislie's law at the time didn't allow the dead to vote...and as far as Silk considered it, the dead could have supported him as easily as anyone else.

"To be honest, I haven't given any concern to how we appear in public. I'm more comfortable with our existing situation, milord...a casual disregard that holds neither enmity or regard. After all, no one in the city will consider us to be close associates after Tradetide," murmured the former President of Muchislie as the two men paced into the Antechamber of the Citadel. The Antechamber already appeared drab and dusty despite the relative short period it had been abandoned...and while it hadn't truly been abandoned, since the general public had been denied entry into the Citadel, the Antechamber had become almost an empty shell of itself, with only a quarter the candles lit and the mighty tapestries hanging over the walls collecting dust. The old tapestries could not silence the echoing reports of both mens' footfalls as the moved through the cavernous room.

"While I realize you're not in a position to do anything of the sort, milord Azarin, I require your trust and faith in regards to the throne. I am...very experienced at this sort of thing, you understand. So long as you place me as Lord Clerk and accept the Imperial nomination when it comes...and it won't come from my lips, Lord Azarin, so be ready...then we might just win the Empire yet. You would quickly question your adequacy for the throne, but I believe you're just the man I need to warm it. You have ambition and wit. You're a survivor, perhaps to the point of being...timid. And I can have you removed in an instant. Do not for a moment believe that I would allow a puritan like Sosa upon the throne! Someone that routinely sacrifices her own well-being for some higher, divine calling, and someone that cannot be controlled. She would spend the lives of our citizens like coin to pursue her mad, zealous agenda. But you? You understand tact and caution, and you can be controlled. Or should I say, you are negotiable, which is a precious asset in a man. There will be a new Inner Circle, Azarin, and you will be a part of it...along with me and few select others that have chosen strength over...well...over another creature like Anochrim."

"I would have you accept the throne as your own, and I will personally see to it that you win the Imperial Elect and are crowned Caesar perhaps by the end of the week. At that time, you will have the entire island as yours. But you must name me as your new Lord Clerk...a letter to the Privy Seal should be adequate to recognize the placement...and in this way the Citadel will remain in our control once you've been elevated, and we will have that position as our medium for communications in the future. And I must beg you once again to have faith in me, Azarin. Watch what happens in today's Advisory Council meeting...and you will come to know some comfort that your future...and that of the Empire...are in quite capable hands."

[Andolin]

Silk's words had a strange measure of comfort to Andolin, notwithstanding the fact that he was playing the most dangerous game imaginable. Most persons, confronted with the view that they were being offered a position in which they would be a puppet, designed to warm the throne for a man who killed opponents as one killed rats in one's house ... or at least with the same small amount of trepidation. A sane person would flee from the offer perhaps; but, Andolin looked for opportunities in every challenge. He had no desire to remain a figurehead Caesar. He would need to gain his independence and own power base if this position was to work.

"The word controllable is such an unpleasant word," he began. "Negotiable is better, but I prefer practical." He paused a moment before speaking again. "I am a man who understands power. You are correct that I am no zealot who would allow religion ... " or principal " ... to overcome the need to do the wise thing. Of course, I would serve the Empire as the highest goal," he stated in a way that was clearly artificial and perfunctory. "It is always wise to recognize strength. It is foolish to oppose someone who holds the strings of the Empire in his hands." Andolin needed to give assurance that he acted out of self interest, but had no scruples against heeding Silk's wishes.

"I feel flattered that you would choose me as your candidate, but let me ask you a few questions. First, as Chamberlain, I have more power and less visibility than I would have with the crown you offer me. Less visibility is a good thing when one wishes to dodge an assassin's arrow," he chuckled. "As you know better than I, it is usually preferable to exercise power from the shadows than have visibility, rather than power." In fact, Caesar was little more than a prisoner inside the Citadel.

"You have indicated that you are aware that this is a negotiation. If I am to be your throne warmer, I need certain promises on your part." Who was to know whether he could trust Silk in anything, but at least he would try.

"First, I need to be secure as Chamberlain throughout the process until I am crowned. As both Caesar and Chamberlain I can name you as Clerk of the Chamber at that time. Naming you before that ... might be hazardous to my health," he declared in good humor. "Trust is a precious commodity milord. It is something to be earned. I certainly want to trust you. I feel better about it when my plans coincide with your own benefit, and vice versa. You can usually trust someone to act in their own self interest," he laughed lightly.

"Second, I need assurances that I will maintain command over my own bodyguard unit, and access to whatever funds I need. Without personal security, there is nothing."

"Third, in all public appearances and meetings with other officials, you should show deference to me if I am Caesar. Privately, you are welcome to disagree and tell me what you please. If I am to play the role of Caesar in this drama, then you must play your role as well. Appearances must be of an independent and strong Caesar, regardless of what occurs behind the throne. I have no interest in being humiliated as little more than a puppet in public. I am better remaining as Chamberlain. "

"Last, you could promise much and then ... change your mind later. I would ask for some surety to protect me against ... inconvenience. I want 10,000 crowns deposited in my personal account with the Temple of Pecunia. This will give me some funds to finance my lifestyle should you decide later to deny me access to the Imperial Treasury. Also, if I fall victim to an accident or assassination, I have something to pass on to my next generation."

"Oh yes, I shall be wanting to select my own bride," he hastened to add. "It will be some suitable princess or powerful woman, so I am sure you will agree. But, I do not want to marry just anyone you would like me to marry."

"These are all very modest requests. I have no reason to believe that you and I will not have the most wonderful and productive of relationships, but I have this weakness for self-preservation," he laughed again.

"If this is agreeable, as it should be, tell me how the plan will unfold. I do love surprises, but not the kind that is likely to have someone else gambling with my life."

[Grant]

"It is a very curious thing negotiating with you, milord Azarin. You seem to...strike upon the points most pivotal at once. Delightful," replied the Tyrant. "Very well, let me present my counter-proposal. As far as your...Imperial Guard, they are yours, of course...and so long as you are in the very least discreet in their use, then the Office of the Exchequer will continue to pay their salaries in full. In fact, we might in time place them before the Advisory Council to...broaden them into a true Imperial Army, but...perhaps only after you've placed the proper people in command."

"It is in fact better to rule from the shadows, as you've advised, which is how I've operated for yahren, of course. But there must be someone designed to hold the public eye...to be that which the people need him to be...and in our partnership, that person will be you. Of course, you need not fear of any...disagreement between us in public, for you literally will be Caesar. If I have any disagreements with your policy, I will bring them to you...ah...in private. So be at ease on that score. There is also the matter of your bride, which is no matter at all. As Caesar, your position is not hereditary, and so there will be no way for anyone...myself included...to arrange your marriage. You may have whatever wife you wish...and you may have as many as you wish as well, though I've personally placed more interest in keeping concubines than wives. They are easily as fun, and with far less hassle."

"As far as your funds are concerned, I have no intentions of adding more risk to my own venture than I already have. Even if I were to smuggle such a sum under the nose of the Pecunians...hardly possible given Sister Katrian's indiscreet conduct with Lord Anzilo...I frankly wouldn't bother handing it to you. Six hundred pounds of gold can buy an army, Lord Azarin, and I could use such an army to reach my goals in...other ways, were I interested in being out so much. Indeed, milord...if all it took was money to buy a fitting Caesar, then Duke Erwin would have owned the seat yahren ago."

"Still, I do understand your need. You want assurances from this point forward that you'll have something in the event that my plans...suddenly change. You know, I would love assurances, too? In fact, that was why I so desperately sought the Lord Clerk position before you were named a candidate. If you become...dead, then all my hopes are lost. Erwin's farm girl will take the throne, and his money and influence will own her and nothing will change. No iron, no backbone, no decision ruling the Empire...just him getting more and more wealthy. So if it's some kind of assurance you want, Lord Azarin, here it is: once you're named a candidate for Caesar, I won't have time to replace you...so you must become Caesar or, if that fails, only you can perhaps win some influence over the farm girl once she's on the throne, as you will still be Lord Chamberlain. The only way I can insure you're in a position to do either task is as...Lord Clerk."

"So as you see, I have...no assurances to offer you, but you have value to me...to the Empire...regardless of what happens. So name me Lord Clerk, and accept the bodyguards I offer you...and regardless of what happens, we will both share in the same great risk we're about to undertake."

[Andolin]

"Yes, negotiation is far more sporting, and the agreements more ... binding, than those elicited through other means," he agreed. Being ordered to do something or be killed brought forth quick agreement, but very short fidelity.

Listening courteously as Silk made his counter proposal, Andolin was still troubled. Normally he would keep his paranoia to himself, but he needed to explain the reason why he could not agree. It was a reasoning that a true plotter can appreciate.

"Hmmm, let me see," he began as he stroked his chin and appeared to be deep in thought. "It is a real dilemma for me milord. I could decline to name you as Clerk until I was named Caesar. It would have the effect of you protecting me, since you need me. You could also protect me against Erwin's assassins, as you would be motivated to do so."

"On the other hand. I could make you Clerk, and then you could have me killed either before or after you advanced my candidacy, so that you could become Lord of the Chamber as well as Imperial Secretary. You would pick up the vote in Council and lose only a potential puppet. Yet, puppets are easy to find." His voice was only lightly tinged with sarcasm. "You say that the Duke is putting forth a farm girl? How preposterous is that? At least you show talent at selecting someone that is not so clearly appearing to be your pawn. Who is this farm girl?" He wanted to sound outraged like any good noble would. Yet, he was of common blood himself, so he was not as snooty as he otherwise would have been.

"I must confess that when I am faced with a dilemma, I usually choose the option that prolongs my life, "he announced with a laugh. "So, perhaps I will forego my gold for now, and you will forego the title until the crown rests safely on my head. Then you have little incentive to see harm befall me ... something that allows me to sleep better at night," he announced playfully.

"Fear not, if it is as you say ... that things are in hand, then there is nothing to prevent all this coming to pass." Is he going to admit that he does not have things well in hand?

[Grant]

"Very well, I think I can live with that compromise," replied the Tyrant, his voice low enough that it could only just be heard. It should have echoed off the Antechamber walls, but there were no echoes from either man just then due to Andolin's spell against eavesdropping...a curious effect that gave both speakers to hear as though they were in some small closet instead of the massive room their eyes could see around them. Their footfalls, however, could be heard, if only just...one of the many inconsistencies of magic. If Silk felt very passionately one way or another about their agreement, he displayed none of it, his face and his inflection perfectly even.

Of course, keeping Andolin alive would be a great concern for the Tyrant. Before long, their association would become known...or at least proven...and then things would be dangerous for a time. Thankfully, Erwin didn't have all that many assassins on his payroll...but he did have a few, and contrary to popular opinion, Erwin would use them when someone or something threatened his person or his finances. But then, Sosa was protected by an army, was she not? And now she's protected by only Illuminatus. And that just won't do.

"Now that we've reached some measure of...equatability, I think I shall go prepare for the Advisory Council meeting. There are...a few things I must put in place before. The farm girl is a young lady named Scatha Ashtir, who hales from a little rural fiefdom in Dort or Islay or somewhere in that area. She has the confidence of the Kona, which speaks well of her, and she is a Motherist, which also helps her cause. I don't doubt for a moment that Erwin actually could sell her to the Council, but it won't take much to counter her...novelty," he supplied, though he didn't yet admit that, until now, he had been completely unable to find this Scatha Ashtir. Oh, he knew she had been in the Citadel...she had stayed with the Trothgardian Ambassador for a short time, and had spoken on more than one occasion to Lady Aesa...but recently she had fallen off the face of the earth, a trick that stunk of Erwin. When she resurfaced, Silk would have to make a decision whether to kill her or simply discredit her...and he frankly hadn't yet decided on which.

"Now this is where we part ways for a time," motioned Silk at the far end of the Antechamber. "During today's session, to not be alarmed at the mixed responses you will see regarding either Caesar candidate. It is...a beginning today, and one in which we might more readily gauge some of the Imperial Elects that are...largely undecided or uncertain. There will be no Caesar of the Seven Isles until the end of the week, at the very earliest," predicted the Tyrant comfortably. With that, he paused and bowed, clearly ready to slip away to go prepare his next move in his question to bring about a new Empire.

[Andolin]

Pleased, Andolin nodded at their new understanding. He liked having Silk struggle to help keep him alive, rather than the other way around.

It was the name Scatha that caused him to freeze in his tracks. "I know that name ... I think I have met her. I dismissed her as some bumpkin ... which she is. I do not think I made a good impression," he laughed quietly.

This was potentially bad news. Yet, Andolin had made to enlist Elaine and Barrett, who seemed to be friendly with her. Surely he could employ them to his advantage to repair bridges. This was a fact he withheld from Silk. Let the man think that I have yet another independent reason to oppose Erwin.

"I shall enjoy watching your little drama unfold milord. I shall try to remain stoic throughout ... perhaps even be seen mingling with the Duke's camp in the interim. I would think it to our mutual advantage to have me viewed as an independent vote, would it not? I'm surprised that I've yet to be approached by him already."

Bidding the Secretary farewell, Andolin was ready to retire to his office to have a good glass of brandy. There was nothing like a good drink to stimulate his scheming. He needed more allies, but where would he find them, and on such short notice?

[Grant]

"By all means, by all means, milord Azarin. In fact, should our Duke offer you a bribe to secure his position, I advise you take it. It...might not be ten thousand crowns, but it should go far to giving you some of that security we both lack," replied Silk with something that might have approached a smirk. It would be harder to keep his investment secure with the Office of the Chamber largely open, but the Tyrant was nothing if not optimistic. After all, Erwin had his assassins, too...and when they appeared, it would be very sudden. Thankfully, he's as good at killing problems as I am at buying them, thought Silk with an inward grin.

In moments, the two men were parted. The Tyrant had other situations to arrange...like the support of Isis and his continued assurances that Ionis would be forced to leave Isis in place. After all, the Citadel was summarized by two way agreements, and that was perhaps one of the more critical. Isis represented four Imperial votes, votes he would lose if she were recalled and replaced by the predictable Rafao. Isis. Maybe she should meet with an accident, too? Ionis would be so very upset if she were hurt, but if she were CAUGHT, that might be something else entirely...

~Fin! Silk says: "There are worse fates than being the Caesar of the Empire. I...can't think of them right now, but I'm sure there are worse ones."

-G