Free Voices of Chaos by A. C. Crispin, Ru Emerson

of their own past. The last Civil War, a hundred years ago, began when the controlling nobles repressed the lower ranks, who then rebelled.
    This threatened the Emperor's control; he quelled the uprisings and the nobles, but his coffers were quickly drained by his own armies, and then the Prelate's forces took control. In the end, the Emperor won--but a weakened Emperor. You know the result of that, Khyriz."
    "Yes." Certain of the lower classes had eventually regained their proper place in Arekkhi society. Others had not. Do not think about them, not here.
    Even a slight body movement or change of expression might give his thoughts away; his father was a master reader of such things. I could tell him--I believe I could. But he has his own problems. And--if I misread him?
    No. Too much rode on common knowledge that the youngest Prince was nonpolitical and interested only in his estates, his clothing ... and the outsiders.
    Khezahn was following his own thoughts. "Most of the nobles loathed the Prelate of that day more than their Emperor, which was the only reason the Emperor's forces won. But because the war made great rifts--and because many such ancient hatreds still exist--the question of Asha has never been resolved. And now it has returned to haunt your father."
    "Haunt? Why, Father?" Khyriz knew, of course, but the matter was supposed to be a Council secret. His father would expect the question.
    "You know, of course, that several rebel groups have sprung up--out-of-the-way places such as Mibhor, and the back highlands of Akkherif." He glanced at Khyriz, who
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    gestured an affirmative. The Prince knew of at least two rebel groups who did what they could to resolve the question of Asha--either by killing them off, or by rescuing them. Best if he showed no interest, either way. "At best, the matter of Asha is a shameful secret. And a difficult one to hide, especially in such outlying regions," the Emperor went on. "And it's tied to the outsiders.
    It's common knowledge that the Prelate would destroy the new jump station and order the Heeyoons and their trading company from our space if he could. But others on the Council see the wealth promised by outside trade; even Zhenu sees the promised wealth as a positive factor, and counsels Nijho to press for no sudden decision against the outsiders. Since he is behind funding for the armed who would fight for the Prelatry, Nijho must at least appear to agree with him.
    "I try to argue for common sense. If we trade with the outsiders, accept their system of integration, find a way to become an associate member of their League, learn what is out there and how to deal with it--see what we as Arekkhi can contribute ..." Khezahn paused. "We who urge common sense are more voices than you might think, Khyriz ... but not enough."
    "Father--I--I didn't know," Kyriz faltered. "Apologies."
    "You weren't supposed to know," the Emperor replied quietly. "And remember that events discussed in secret Council are never to see light outside that chamber. But discussions in regular Council are likewise sealed--on this subject." He's reminding me to keep my mouth closed, Khyriz decided. "Also, you should know that Zhenu and the Prelate--and those they could bring to a temporary alliance wanted to banish you to your estates, hold you in communicado, until they found a way to expel the CLS. That notion was so extreme, even Zhenu couldn't hold it together, but I doubt he will give up all hope of that."
    Khyriz realized he was staring once more. "Father--if the CLS pulled out of Arekkhi space entirely ...!"
    "... then many of us would be greatly displeased, but Prelate Nijho would not be one. I think, Zhenu would not, either. He is so wealthy already, I doubt he would note the increase to his purse from outside trade. But no one, except perhaps
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    Nijho, knows what Zhenu wants." The elder glanced at his son. "The CLS
    will remain here, at least for now. And I am working to gain allies in council so