Of Kings and Killers (Elder Empire Sea #3) - WIll Wight Page 0,72
a broad metal cone in their hands, so the speaking-horn was bolted to the balcony. It had been used by centuries of orators, including the Emperor himself, so it easily caught his voice and sent it booming over the crowd.
He delivered his speech mechanically, one word slotting into the next like the gears of a clock, his inflection raised and lowered at precisely the calculated moments. His thoughts were elsewhere.
Will they come after me tonight?
The Consultants would try to kill him. He’d been certain of that since the battle at the Imperial Palace, and the assassination of the Champions had only confirmed his suspicions.
But would they take this first opportunity he was dangling before them, on the very night of the Farstrider report’s release? Or would they bide their time?
Calder and the speech-writers from the Imperial Palace had all agreed not to address Estyr’s accusations directly. Anything they threw up in their defense would only become ammunition against them, in the mind of the public.
Instead, he spoke about his passion for Imperial unity, alluded to the panel of experts who had publicly confirmed his freedom from Elder influence, and promised to crack down on Elder activity by making cultist-hunting the army’s top priority and by funding the maintenance of increased security on the Great Elder tombs.
The crowd didn’t cheer him or shout support. He hadn’t expected them to, though it would have been encouraging.
But they didn’t jeer him or swarm the Emperor’s Stage to take his head on a spike, so he would take his victories where he could.
As his mouth worked and his eyes scanned the crowd for raised guns, his ears caught the first signs of intrusion: a shout from deeper in the building. The crowd wouldn’t hear it, and he almost missed it himself, but his Imperial Guards muttered to each other and closed ranks behind him.
Stealthily, he glanced behind him to see Rosephus the Champion clanking down the hallway, running deeper into the building.
Tyria followed him more gracefully, wearing armor of leather and mail that would allow her greater freedom of movement than her partner. Her weapon seemed to be a long needle the size of her arm, but he would never question what arms a Champion carried into battle.
A Guard stepped up next to him, taking his arm. “It’s time to go, sir.”
Calder pulled away, and the Guard couldn’t manhandle him in front of the crowd. If there were an imminent threat to Calder’s life, Calder would be carried off, but for the moment he could get away with staying put.
Still speaking, he slipped his hand inside the Emperor’s clothes and pulled out an icy lump of metal from an interior pocket. The Awakened padlock looked like it was made of ice and crystal as well as steel. The Awakening process had transformed it into a jagged work of art.
He was making no effort to Read it, but it bled eagerness to shut doors, to seal windows. All harmful elements must be kept out for the sake of protection.
Calder pressed the lock against the balcony and snapped it shut.
An invisible surge of Intent shivered through the entire Emperor’s Stage, sealing every door and window at once. If the Gardener wanted to escape, they would have to break through glass or wood, which would reveal their position.
A smile crept up on him as he spoke. The Consultants had taken the bait so quickly.
Now he had them.
Concentrating on the Consultants, he didn’t realize at first that he had gone off-script.
“…you know, I’ve seen Elderspawn.” He shouldn’t be addressing this so directly, but there was an assassin in the building after his life. If he couldn’t play recklessly now, when could he?
“In my youth, I worked for the Blackwatch. Ever since then, I’ve sailed the Aion, and I’ve seen things that put to shame the brightest dreams and the darkest nightmares. If you’d seen what I’d seen…then you, too, would fight to keep the Empire whole. No matter who stood in your way.”
The last line came out grimmer than he intended, and the noise from the crowd dipped a little.
But he was done with them. He turned from the balcony and walked into the building, where Guards pressed in on him so tightly that he had no space to breathe.
“Your double is dead,” one said.
A chill passed through his spine. On their first chance, the Consultants had succeeded in killing Calder’s replacement. If he had been in that guarded room, as planned, they would have killed him.