Free Empire of Avarice by Tony Roberts Page A

Gavan. Get the man in
here now. I trust he’s been fed and watered?”
    “Not as far as I know, sir. I’ll find out.”
    “And if not, then get the camp cook to knock something
up for him. Something edible, that is.”
    Gavan paused in getting out of his chair, grinned again,
and nodded. He left. Jorqel grumbled. He hated his sleep being disturbed. He
fumbled around and got a candle lit from his flint and steel. By the time he’d
done that Gavan had returned and the messenger, looking tired and sweaty, was
presented to him. The messenger bowed.
    “Welcome to camp, my good man,” Jorqel said, standing
expectantly. He hoped to all the heavens that this was from his father and that
all had gone to plan. “I believe you have a message for me?”
    “Yes, your majesty.”
    Your majesty! Jorqel looked at Gavan and smiled. Gavan
looked back in pleasure, then knelt on one knee and bowed. “Up, Gavan. Me being
a prince makes no difference to our relationship.”
    Gavan stood up and nodded. He looked proud. As well he
might. Now he was a member of the royal guard to the heir to the throne.
    The messenger presented the letter, sealed with wax. Jorqel
angled the letter so he could see it better in the light. The seal had the
idiom of a bar with two circles next to each other in the middle. The Imperial
Seal. “Have you ridden far?” he asked the messenger.
    “Sire. From Niake. I come with the compliments and
professed loyalty of my master, Evas Extonos, governor of Niake.”
    “You have been treated well here in camp?”
    “So far, yes sire. Although I am thirsty and my charger
needs feeding and grooming.”
    Jorqel looked at Gavan. “I thought that had been
arranged, Gavan.”
    “Consider it done, sire.” Gavan left and clapped one of
the guards on duty by the tent flap on the shoulder. The guard took it with a
smile. Jorqel suppressed a grin himself. The whole camp would know in a few
moments and they’d all be in good spirits. Good. He looked again at the
messenger. “Be seated.”
    As the messenger sat, resting in relief, Jorqel opened
the letter and scanned the writing. It was his father’s handwriting alright. ‘Son,’
it began, ‘good news indeed. We have deposed the old emperor and I am now
ruler. You are heir. Things are confused and chaotic and will be a few days
before we know what is what and who is who. Be wary. There will be those who
will be consumed with avarice and desire your position.’ Jorqel nodded to
himself. ‘Your immediate concerns are to ensure the army is fit to march
instantly north to Lodria and bring the province back under imperial control. You
are to take the provincial capital Slenna and install yourself as governor. Your
rear will be safe as it is in the capable hands of Evas Extonos.’
    Jorqel angled the parchment more to read the last few
lines. They were words of encouragement from his father and messages of good
luck from his mother and sister. He folded the message and placed it on his
bedside table. “Thank you,” he said to the messenger. “Now go with the guard
and you will be taken to a place where you can rest and eat, and then sleep. On
the morrow you will be given a reply to send back to Kastan via Niake. Now you
may go.”
    The messenger bowed low again and backed away. Jorqel
sat down on his low bunk and allowed his thoughts to race around his head for a
few moments. He chuckled to himself. Prince! It was more than he had hardly
dared to believe for such a long time, ever since his father had proved they
had a claim to the throne in the midst of the civil wars. Thanks to the bloody
nature of those wars, rival after rival had been eliminated by one faction or
other, and so it had come down to just their family, the Koros, and the late
emperor’s. His father’s intention to get rid of the ruling emperor had excited
and horrified him in equal measures, and Jorqel had taken the army away from
Kastan so that the intrigues and corruption surrounding the court could