Jackal Among Snakes

“By rights, I should call the guards and have you cast into prison, tortured.” Zen carefully placed a bookmark into his book and set it aside.

“Do it,” Elenore said inside his head.

“I’m not telling him to ‘do it,’” Stain replied to her as he stared steadfastly. When he opened his mouth to respond to Zen, he said instead, “You’d at least like to hear us out, right?”

Zen tapped his book with one finger. “I hear a lot either way.”

Stain’s gut swirled with nervousness, but Elenore said, “You imbecile. I hope your parents are siblings, otherwise there’s no justification for such continual stupidity. Say. Do. It.”

“Do it,” Stain said.

Governor Zen smiled, and stroked his wispy goatee. “You’re loyal enough to them to suffer that?”

“You should look out across the pond. Then, just say that this way is faster for the both of you.”

Stain very nearly said ‘look out across the pond.’ He tied his tongue in time, then looked out into the pond sagely and repeated, “This way’s faster for the both of us.”

“And doesn’t necessarily preclude the other.” Zen stopped tapping the book. “But I can’t be disloyal to the imperial court. You understand, they have ways of… keeping people in line. Sending people like yourself to people. Hounds, to sniff.”

Stain stared in silence, waiting for Elenore’s direction. After a long moment of indecision, she finally commanded, “Take away your blessing in front of him.”

“He’ll know my ability. If he knows, and he’s not with us, the whole imperial court could know. If the imp—”

“It’s a calculated risk,” Elenore interrupted. “And done with the king’s approval. Even if the imperial court learns of you, they can’t truly do anything but be more cautious.”

And what about my safety? Stain stared without saying anything. He stalled for time, asking, “You think I’m a hound?”

“I didn’t say that,” Zen said.

Meanwhile, Stain demanded of Elenore, “He thinks I’m a hound. I deserve a treat. Give me a seat on parliament, and a title.”

“Parliament?” Elenore’s voice was sharp. “You don’t have time to—”

“I can have someone fill it, just give me a seat.”

Elenore responded with only silence. Zen observed Stain and noted, “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m debating the quality of the answer I should provide,” Stain reassured Zen while he waited for response from Elenore.

“We’ll name you the Baron of Crenshaw,” Elenore offered.

Silence hung in both Stain’s mind and these ponds.

“Fine. Whitefields,” Elenore offered grandly. “The old duke’s seat.”

“I think this would best suffice as answer,” Stain said with a smile, then withdrew his blessing. Governor Zen beheld Stain’s non-Chu features, even leaning back slightly in response.

#####

Elenore was trying very hard not to pull out her hair as Argrave laughed. They stood, touching Vasquer, as her brother scouted out Stain’s conversation with Governor Zen. Argrave kept repeating, “You’ve gotta admit, he’s earned it,” and “Who else could do what he’s done?” Even worse yet, she could feel his amusement through their mental bridge with Vasquer. Their distant ancestral matriarch watched like a mother, though did not intervene.

“So… you’re not just a mole. You’re… what are you, exactly? Governor Zen asked, more curious than intimidated.

“Someone with the authority you need to tell you things you need to know, and ask questions that need to be asked,” Elenore said, and Stain recited it well. Sometimes he could be agreeable. Other times…

Governor Zen leaned back on his hands. “I was expecting some contact. But I wasn’t expecting it so quickly, nor from someone like you. I thought they’d come at the emperor’s direction, if he was still alive. But it seems…?”

“The emperor’s alive,” Elenore and Stain said.

Zen didn’t even seem remotely surprised. “Did he ask about his children? My grandchildren, that is?”

“Not even once.”

Governor Zen didn’t quite smile, but he did give a knowing expression. “So, you know him. Or knew him, if you’re lying and he’s dead. I’d ask for further proof, but any you give me could be fabricated. We’ll proceed with the assumption he is alive, and you do have him.” Zen leaned back in, and grabbed the sides of the table. “What’s your intent?”

“That depends. Are you the hound of the court?”

Governor Zen laughed through his nose. “I imagine they’d rather like if I was. But, no.”

Anneliese, also scouting, gave no indication to Argrave or Elenore that this was a lie.

“I’ll ask again,” Zen continued. “What’s your intent?”

“What else?” Stain recited. “Restoring the emperor to his throne.”

“I believe I get the picture.” Governor Zen looked down at his book, then stroked the binding as he deliberated over what to say. Elenore couldn’t say how he’d gotten the picture, but then maybe it was a bluff of some kind. “I mentioned I had grandchildren, correct?”

“You did.”

“I rather love my grandchildren. From birth, they’ve had to sacrifice a great deal.”

“They’re the children of the emperor and empress, aren’t they?” Elenore played along.

Zen focused. “Their sacrifice was normalcy. They couldn’t afford such a thing. You might deem me a hypocrite considering I was the one who arranged for their lives to be as such, yet the Zen family… the Zen family is tightly knit. My daughters, my sons, even my wives—they understand why I do the things that I do, and I suspect we all share the same…” he tapped his lip for a moment as he considered the word, then said deliberately, “…the same aspiration. Family before all.”

Elenore felt the need to remind, “Conveniently, the emperor is your son-in-law.”

Governor Zen shook his head. “He’s not a Zen.”

“The name’s important? He’s the father of your grandchildren,” Elenore pressed the point, and Stain complied, becoming a rather adroit flesh-puppet.

“Names are important,” the governor nodded. “Born a peasant, Zen was my only name. Later, when I assumed governorship, Zen became the family name. Technically, my name would be ‘Zen Zen.’ That lends itself rather well to a metaphor. I am Zen, yet at the same time, the whole family is Zen. They’re an extension of me. I’ll protect them every bit as well as myself, because they are my life. My first wife… a childhood sweetheart. My children… they’ve only ever known me. But the emperor? A fresh presence. He’s not me. He’s not truly family.”

“Do you have a point?”

“My sole interest in the emperor is ensuring my grandchildren have a father—nothing more, nothing less.” He pointed. “I sent that ballista with my message for a reason. Not to help the emperor, but to help you. To help… well, perhaps I should just say it. To help King Argrave.”

There was silence at Vasquer’s mouth, the pond in the courtyard, and seemingly the whole world. Governor Zen knew Argrave. As Elenore tried to grasp the consequences of what that meant, she could feel the vaguest tingle of unease in Argrave’s mind.

“You look a little shocked,” Governor Zen leaned back proudly. “Is it so surprising I’d know who I’m dealing with just as you know who you’re dealing with? Perhaps it is, considering you’re the invaders and we’re the invaded.”

“And what does helping King Argrave actually entail, in your view?” Elenore said, and Stain recited with slight distortions in his unease.

“In history, the Great Chu was once conquered by nomads of the southern steppes. There’s a great read by a trader who became an advisor to the man who led them—one of the great classics of our nation, if I dare say so myself. But, this historical fact outlines one thing; foreigners, like yourself, have taken the throne of the Great Chu before. They stood atop the throne, and they were assimilated into the culture. It’s happened once before, and it could easily happen again. Doubly so if someone like myself were to support that.

“As for legitimacy, well… the daughter of the previous emperor and his empress, taking the new ruler to wife? Who could truly protest the imperial line wouldn’t be pure? Out with the old harem, in with the new—consisting, I suspect, of the daughters of governors from your lands, and the ones of the Great Chu, in a great union never before seen. All I would ask… is for my granddaughter to be King Argrave’s empress. She’s twenty years old, at the height of her life. And as her grandfather, I can say no husband of hers would be disappointed.”

Elenore felt Argrave’s repulsion at the idea, and saw flashes of Anneliese’s face abounding in his head. She hadn’t known he’d react this strongly, and it somewhat heartened her to know her brother was so steadfastly committed to his partner. At the same time, however, Elenore’s practical mind worked. Was it a good offer? Was it even better than what Ji Meng could offer them—a disobedient puppet on the throne?

Yet scrutiny proved far too much for this plan. It was impractical to have Argrave relocate the entire government to the Great Chu. Their sole backing, even if they did, would be Governor Zen. He would largely be in control of most things, acting as advisor for the culture, the people, everything. Doubtless he intended to maneuver his daughter into the position of empress dowager, despite the fact she wouldn’t be Argrave’s mother but the empress’ mother.

It was too far a deviation, closed off too many options. Above all, they didn’t need the Great Chu forever—it was merely a stepping stone with which to end the Qircassian Coalition and Erlebnis, putting most of the world under their banner to face a Gerechtigkeit fully untethered by Sophia’s freedom. Ji Meng was infinitely better suited for the role of emperor. They merely needed to get him back to the throne.

Elenore said decisively, “All due respect, but our original intent is what we intend to follow through with.” Stain repeated her words with less conviction.

Zen pushed aside the book he’d been reading and the glasses, then leaned in. Perhaps he heard Stain’s lack of conviction, for he pressured, “You’d deny the king my granddaughter, and a throne? Can you truly say you have the authority for that?”

“Authority isn’t the issue,” Stain recited statically. “The emperor has a lot of friends, but Argrave—all he’d have would be you, at the start. And Ji Meng’s talked about you.”

Governor Zen shook his head. “My son-in-law may have said things rather unkind about me. But, well… that’s fine. As I said, however, the only use I have for the emperor is to give my grandchildren their father back. As for the throne… my daughter’s children are amply ready. Her eldest son is eighteen. Why would you or I wish to restore a strong ruler to his throne? There are so many better ways for this conflict to resolve…”

“You should investigate the Palace of Heaven if you want to learn why the emperor needs to return to his place,” Elenore said, then commanded Stain to stand up. “But if you’re not cautious, they’ll discover you. And if you’re discovered… well. Mortals before gods, Zen.”

“The Palace of Heaven?” Governor Zen repeated, looking up at the now-standing Stain. “What does that indomitable fortress have to do with this?”

“I’ll be back next week,” Stain recited Elenore’s words. But he’d been wrong to do so—that message was for him, not Governor Zen. “Survive until then, Stain.” She severed the connection, leaving him in the heart of the governor’s mansion without direction.

She finally pulled away from Vasquer. Argrave looked at her with a wry smile on his face.

“You know, we might need Stain to do more stuff while he’s there. And you’re the only one who can… well, speak to him.”

“I needed some small satisfaction after he shook us down,” Elenore said, then looked up at Vasquer and touched her snout again. “Thank you for your help,” she called out.

“I only hope that worked…” Argrave shook his head grimly, then said his goodbyes to Vasquer. “Seems a tough customer, Zen.”

“Might be another someone to kill, if we don’t get results.” Leaving that chilling declaration behind, Elenore walked off briskly.