Wrath of a Mad God. Raymond Feist

great-grandmother, Mara, had enough experience and wisdom for a dozen lifetimes, it seems.’

      Miranda said nothing, wondering at the reference to the venerated woman.

      ‘I believe your husband knew her.’

      Miranda said, ‘I’m not sure, Majesty. I know they met at least once over the years, but you must remember Pug was not always a welcome sight in these halls.’

      The Emperor smiled. ‘The Imperial Games. Yes, I remember the story. My great-grandmother was one of the many nobles at those games when your husband shamed the Warlord publicly and ended his power. Did you know it took almost five years to fully repair the damage Milamber did to the great stadium?’

      Miranda repressed a smile. Pug, Milamber as the Tsurani called him, was perhaps the most patient man she had ever encountered – a quality that she alternately respected and found annoying – but when he finally did lose his temper the display could be horrific. By all accounts his display at those games so many years ago could only be called heroic, even god-like. He had rained down fire, called up tornados and earthquakes, and had all of the Empire’s nobility trembling at his feet in terror. At last she said, ‘I had heard the damage was extensive.’

      The Emperor lost his smile. ‘That’s not what I wished to talk about. The point I am making is that your husband and my great-grandmother caused more change in the Empire within a lifetime than had been seen for centuries previously.’ He looked reflective, as if choosing his words carefully, then softly added, ‘I am about to tell you something that no one outside my family knows – not our closest allies, not even cousins and uncles.’

      Miranda said nothing.

      ‘When my grandfather had been on the throne for a short while, after his father returned from your world, the great Lady Mara took Emperor Justin aside and told him a secret. He shared that secret only with his son, my father; then when I was almost a man, my father shared it with me.’ The Emperor stood, but as Miranda started to rise he waved her back into her seat. ‘No need for formality, Miranda: I am about to share with you the single most closely guarded secret in the history of Tsuranuanni.’ He moved to a chest carved from a blond hardwood, its design intricate and ornate. It had been polished to a gleam and there was something about it that now caught Miranda’s attention.

      ‘It’s magic,’ she said softly.

      ‘Yes,’ said the Emperor. ‘I have been told it would bring instant death to any but myself or my blood kin even to touch it – one good thing about absolute authority is that no servant has even attempted to dust it.’ He paused for a brief second. ‘Though it never seems to need dusting.’ He reached out slowly, pausing as his fingers brushed the wood. ‘Each time I open this, I must admit to a moment of concern.’ Then he gripped the top and removed it. It came off easily and the Emperor put the lid to one side. He then reached in and removed a parchment.

      Miranda felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. She had seen that parchment’s like before.

      Without a word the Emperor handed the parchment to her. She unrolled it and read it. Then she let it fall from her hands, closed her eyes and slumped down in the chair.

      After a moment of silence the Emperor Sezu said, ‘Apparently you understand what this means?’

      She nodded. Rising she said, ‘If I may, Majesty, I need to consult with a few of my colleagues on my homeworld. I must seek other wise counsel before I begin to interpret this; its true meaning may be eluding me.’

      ‘The box has been in my family’s care for over a century,’ said the Emperor, ignoring formality and kneeling to pick up the fallen parchment. He rolled it up and returned it to Miranda. ‘A few more days will have little bearing on what we do next. No matter what you decide this means, we must still mobilize.’

      ‘Now I understand why you put the nations on a formal war footing.’

      A look of sadness came over the young man. ‘No one must suspect what we are going to attempt until I am ready to order the nations to act. That is vital. My High Council is composed of very privileged rulers who will instantly obey like any good Tsurani soldier … until they’re given time to think. At that moment a civil war would be born.’

      ‘Alenca and some of the Great Ones need to be alerted.’

      ‘As few as you can, only the most trustworthy, and no one else, not until the precise moment I give the order.’

      Miranda nodded. ‘Very well, Majesty, but first I must return home immediately. If this is going to be your course of action, I have a great deal of preparation that must be started, as well as some very difficult people who are going to need convincing. Then I will return to speak with Alenca and the others.’

      ‘I shall leave word that you are to be permitted access to me at any time of the day or night, Lady Miranda. I shall provide you with whatever I may on this side of the rift.’

      Miranda said, ‘Farewell, Majesty and might I suggest there is one thing we can both do: pray.’

      The Emperor was suddenly left looking at an empty chair, for Miranda had vanished from sight. He glanced at the four guards in the room, but they were motionless, as they always were, their eyes locked forward, unmoved by the sight of a woman vanishing before them. Sezu, First of that Name, and Ruler of All The Nations of Tsuranuanni, sat down in his chair and began to compose himself. For whatever was coming, until it arrived, he had an empire to govern.

      Caleb looked up and felt an instant sense of relief at the sight of his mother. ‘I was starting to worry …’ Her expression stopped him ‘What is it?’

      Miranda said, ‘That animal Varen got me captured by the Dasati.’

      Caleb said, ‘Are you …?’ He let the question fall away, realizing that as far as he could see his mother was unhurt and had obviously escaped.

      ‘Only my dignity was injured. Pain, as you know, goes away.’ She sat down in the other chair, a rolled parchment on her knees. ‘What news?’

      ‘Rosenvar and Joshua stand watch over the Talnoy, and Rosenvar reports that your experiments with Nakor have yielded good results. The control crystals work as well as the ring, with apparently no ill-effect.’ He began to sift through a pile of parchments and papers. ‘I have his report here somewhere.’

      ‘I’ll read it later.’ She sighed. ‘I know it’s pointless to ask about your father, brother and Nakor?’

      Caleb nodded. There had been some hope that Pug might devise a manner in which to send communication back to his son and wife, but everyone counted it a very slim hope.

      ‘No word from Kaspar’s expedition, either.’

      ‘The warning from … what do they call themselves?’

      ‘The Circle,’ answered Caleb.

      ‘They’re interested in the Peaks of the Quor … that report was vague on any specific time, wasn’t it?’

      Caleb picked up another parchment. ‘Simply that we should expect them to appear in some force down on the lee side of the peninsula before the Spring Festival.’

      ‘That’s another week, so they could be dealing with them now.’ She glanced at her son. ‘Are you worried?’

      The dark-haired hunter pushed himself back from the table. ‘Always. Especially when you and father leave me in charge.’ He rose and paced around the desk. ‘You know I am here only because I’m your son. There are others in the Conclave who are better suited—’

      ‘No,’ she cut him off. ‘I know it is not your first choice, and you’d rather be out tramping through the woods or climbing some mountain, but the fact is you’ve been groomed all your life to take charge should anything happen to the rest of us. You know things, thousands of tiny details that no one else, not even Nakor, knows. You just don’t know you know.’ She was thoughtful. ‘But I think we need to find you an assistant, a magician – perhaps