palace of ash

CHAPTER TWO

The emperor summoned him before dawn. If Vheeran Tazim knew one thing from his previous years of service to his wretched emperor, it was this – he didn’t like to wake early. Not for anything he thought could wait until the sun had properly risen, at least. But Vheeran also knew he was in for some nasty surprise. It was clear by the chains rubbing his wrists raw as he did his best not to stumble down a long hallway. The chains around his ankles made music as he walked, clanking against the cold marble.

     Servants and guards alike averted their gazes from the young man; not only because they didn’t want their pity for him to be visible, but also because he was a sight to look at.

     It was true. Vheeran, once a loyal guard in Emperor Aradax’s armies, now trudged down the palace corridors in ragged red robes; ruined black boots which pressed tight against his toes with each step, and a pair of shackles to compliment his already disastrous appearance. Even the dirt on his tanned skin had stopped gathering after it had decided there was no spare skin left to mark. Vheeran hadn’t bathed for a week; he wriggled his nose at the foul scent he carried; but found his mind too occupied with other thoughts to feel embarrassed. Have I done something wrong? Vheeran wondered to himself. He kept in step behind the two guards escorting him from the front, with a further two trailing behind him. Am I going to die? He wasn’t too sure if it was a real question. But making it seem like it was a fact only made him more nervous. Vheeran’s body swayed a little to the side as he fought to keep himself upright in his heavy chains. The guards hadn’t completely starved him during his week of imprisonment – false imprisonment; he liked to add in; for he knew he had done nothing wrong.

     In fact, the guards had given him rice and even a share of meat when he informed them he was hungry, along with strong wine, which he had mixed with water. The only thing the guards hadn’t allowed him the pleasure of was a bath.

     Soldiers do not pamper criminals in such a way. Vheeran thought again. Then why am I being summoned in chains?

     The two guards in front of Vheeran pushed open a heavy set of doors and escorted the young soldier in without a word, or even a glance his way.

     Vheeran cursed his nerves as his hands shook enough to make his chains dance. That earned him a brief glance from one guard before him, a crooked smile accompanying the jeering stare.

     There, settled on a thick throne of stone and well-padded with emerald green and gold cushions, sat the emperor himself. The throne was up on a raised platform; it only made Vheeran swallow hard as he had no choice but to raise his eyes to meet his superior.

     Aradax Jhorou wasn’t a handsome man. Perhaps he had been long ago, when his legs and arms were still of full use to him. Now, he was only a fat emperor turned greedy by the wealth, fame and power he had amassed during his many years as a ruler. “Vheeran Tazim.” the emperor began. He slurped from a golden chalice filled with wine, wiping some of it from his mouth as it dribbled down his beard and seeped into the oiled mass of hair.

     Despite the chains and his exhaustion, Vheeran managed a bow from the waist as best as he could. It came out stiff and his knees almost gave way as the chains seemed to drag him down to the floor. He clenched his teeth at the effort it took just to straighten himself back up.

     “Vheeran Tazim,” the emperor repeated, slowly and steadily. “Your loyalty has proved itself trustworthy for many years already. The time has come for me to elect three new commanders again, to lead my armies and to further expand my growing empire.”

     No! Vheeran screamed to himself. No, no, no!

     “After some hard considerations, I have elected you as one of three commanders. Some would argue this position is more than you deserve. Yet, the last three men appointed had sung nothing but praise about you and your exceptional talents.”

     No, please. This couldn’t be happening. Vheeran wanted to fall to his knees and cry.

     What happened to the Emperor’s commanders after their many decades of service ended was no secret. The emperor’s law was as follows: the three ‘honourable’ candidates elected to become Aradax’s commanders had to swear an oath of utter obedience to their unchallenged emperor. After which they enjoyed the luxuries of fine things provided by the emperor himself – silks, gold, fine food and expensive women; all for leading his armies well. But there was a catch. There was always a damn catch. Once the commanders’ decades of service were over, they were to receive swift and honourable deaths by beheading - to keep them from slipping away into retirement and right into the hands of Aradax’s enemies. Old tongues were loose tongues, so the saying went across all the countries of Malaego, Yhara and Nhairo. All three were under the wretched command of the emperor.

     Vheeran held back his tears as they already burned his eyes. He wouldn’t allow Aradax the pleasure of seeing him, a man full grown, sobbing before him. No matter how much he wanted to shed a few tears or more. Vheeran had already served Aradax for eight unwilling years. Now, the time had come for him to retake his oath to him and pledge himself in the flesh again. Whether he wanted to or not.