Tuesday, February 20, 2018

A Question for Intharas

At dinner, Intharas address the food with a bemused expression on his face, still obviously thinking hard.

I took pity on him... or gave him more to think about.  "Intharas, you realize that I am protected from rebellion, revolution or assassination by the vodai."

He looked up and just raised an eyebrow.

"My heirs..."  I gazed fondly down the table to where little Inensa was industriously lining up her beans along the edge of her plate in exact rows, while Daurama leaned over all the way against her restraining strap to drop handfuls of meat scraps to the eager ring of fluffies and cats.  I was still waiting for my food taster to acknowledge that it was safe for me to eat, but the food for the girls had been tasted much earlier than for me.

"Being so young," I continued.  "Would have my wife Kyriala as Regent, backed by my mother."  He glanced down the table to where Inensa Mahid sat next to my wife, listening.  She had loosened up a great deal but was also more still than most of the people at the table.  My grandfather was too ill to sit to dinner and she, foregoing her status as Dowager Imperatrix, took his place in court as Imperial Pharmacist most days, wearing the white associated with the office, and scarlet gloves, the brilliant colour of fresh blood.  She turned, feeling us looking and there was the faintest ghost of a smile on her face.

"Kyriala Aan and Inensa Mahid as Regents," Intharas said, paling slightly, but only a little.

"And the Prince, Ilesias, my brother is a terribly fierce protector.  He'd probably bring his horses and the dogs in to guard them day and night if I were so unfortunate as to be deposed by violence."

"I... do understand."

He raised his glass to me.  "You've done well to protect yourself, Imperator... even if we didn't all know, down to the house mice, that your biggest protection is the Temple itself."

I could feel my face heating up.  Damn, how easily I still blushed.  "Truly I am the safest man alive on the planet today."

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:: [log sub 456.66]I still think we should approach Minis instead of the Yeoli.::

:: [log sub 456-67] Jane, we know that you favour the Arkans.  He's still too young and he's not democratic minded enough.  He's only the first generation of his culture to be voted in.  The Yeolis have more than fifteen hundred years of vote behind them.::

:: [log sub 456.68] Art here.  Might I remind all debaters that we do have time::

::[log sub 456.69] Art is correct.  Let us continue this discussion on another thread.::

;;[log sub 456-70] I shall continue observing.::

Tuesday, February 6, 2018

Imperator... Are you... are you Inciting Rebellion?



Intharas nudged the pages in front of him, and looked up at Minis where he sat, chin cupped on his hand, waiting.

Piss potted scum sucking vile world that put me in this place to have a WRITER as the Imperator.  An ink-scribbling, pen nursing, dog-mother of the Ten writer.  And he wants to know if I like it.

Very casually Minis picked up his cup and sipped as if he didn't care that Intharas had just finished reading the piece in front of him.  "You'll probably want to think about it, I suppose," he said.

You suppose!  Teach your dead and rotting dad to suck eggs you pup.

"Imperator... are you TRYING to foment rebellion?"

"Of course not, Intharas!  But what I wrote is the truth!  One of those ancient philosophers said "The moral arc of history is toward justice." and I find that a great comfort, having grown up under my father's hand."  Minis set his cup down with a click.  "Besides.  I am under the will of the vodai, the vote.  No need to rebel.  If enough people don't like what I want they can vote me out!"

"But... but..." Intharas sighed.  There wasn't anything to say.  He took up the paper in his hand and rose... got down in the genuflection even though Minis tried to tell him no... and then as he creaked up to his feet had pity on the boy.

"It's good.  People will like it.  People will see you as more accessible and ultimately stuff a sock in the Minis Neverborn idiot-shit-eating morons."

The ruler of the Empire grinned like a kid given a sweet.  Writers.  Bah.

"Would you care to join the family for dinner, Intharas?"

"Certainly.  Thank you, You whose Pen Graces the World."

I can still make him blush.  Good.