Jeric Alloda stood before the assembled Ordenan Councils, sweat dripping down his back, soaking his shirt under his arms. The Council of Imperators and the Council of Citizens did not hold joint audiences unless the business at hand was particularly grave. Even the two High Judges were here, trying to mediate the quiet but fierce rumblings coming from the various huddles of old Councilors. He was in deep shit.
Jeric stood silent in the center of the chamber floor while the Councils deliberated among themselves. He had arrived just that morning and given a full report of everything that had happened with Jaina and the Ire boy. Well, almost everything. He had left out the part where Jaina had kicked his ass.
But the Councils now knew that Ire had taken portions of the Iraean territory, that Jaina and Maira had already allied themselves with him despite the cautions of the Councils, and that Imperators had died due to Ire’s foolhardiness.
Jeric had also failed to mention that Cailla and the others had died attempting to do what Jeric couldn’t bring himself to in killing Jaina to keep Ordena out of Provincial affairs—and out of Provincial wars, especially. Yaris and others on both Councils favored controlling the Provinces and making alliances via economic means. They argued—correctly—that the Ordenan people could not fight their holy war in the Westlands and a war in the east at the same time, no matter that the Malithii had at last found their way to the eastern continent. The war in the Westlands had taken a turn for the worse besides, from what Jeric had heard from his Imperator friends who had been deployed there recently.
He met Councilor Yaris’s eyes briefly. The stately older man with huge, bushy eyebrows merely pursed his lips, then looked away. Jeric had met with his patron before this meeting, and Yaris had been less than pleased that Jaina still lived to further Councilor Maira’s agenda in the Provinces. The two had been bitter rivals for years, and now that Maira was trying to pull Ordena into a war in the Provinces besides the war in the Westlands … well, blood had now been spilled between followers of the different factions, and it was unlikely to be the last Ordenan blood shed by their own political infighting.
Abruptly, the Councils began to shuffle their way back to their assigned chairs, one Council arrayed in an arc to one side, the other Council arrayed the same way to the other side, the High Judge of each Council seated next to the other in the middle.
“Imperator Alloda,” the High Judge of the Imperator’s Council intoned. “You have given us much to consider here today. Your report, and those of Councilor Maira Tinoas, detailing the presence of Malithii priests—and alai’ahn!—are of critical importance. It seems that Emrael Ire, Councilor Tinoas’s son, has mounted a significant resistance to the Malithii and those that have allied themselves to them. It is the will of both Councils of the Holy Empire of Ordena that an alliance be formalized with Emrael Ire. We accept his offer of infusori stores from the Wells of Gnalius in the amount of one thousand standard coils per month, and will provide him transport for his troops plus ten thousand men of our own. You, Jeric, will lead them.”
Jeric was shocked, nearly speechless. “Me?”
The High Judge stared at him with unblinking eyes. “Of course, Imperator Alloda. You have the most current information, tenure in the Order of Imperators, and a personal relationship with Jaina Lanrona. Do you not?”
He froze momentarily. Jaina would kill him if she saw him again. There was very little he could do to stop it, and he knew it. Even if she didn’t, Emrael would never strike a deal with him. But he could hardly tell the Councils that now. He would be demoted, likely sent back to the Westlands to die. At best.
He couldn’t for the life of him come up with another excuse as to why he would turn down the honor of leading ten thousand of the Imperial Army, and a small fleet besides.
“Yes, Your Honor. I will be blessed to lead the men and women of the Empire in fulfilling the wishes of the Councils.”
Councilor Yaris glared at Jeric from his seat. Jeric might have just lost his patron for accepting an Imperial assignment that would likely end in his own death, most likely at the hands of one of his oldest and closest friends.
Sisters save him.