9​ Those We Hold Closest

WHEN ANTIPA STRODE into the antechamber to her private rooms, she found Tolan Laman waiting. The imperator stood facing one of the wall panels, examining the stucco relief. The white lime plaster serpents covered most of the walls midway between floor and ceiling.

Her grandfather’s broad shoulders were level, every white hair of his head in place, as always. Perfection was an idiosyncrasy of his, but age mocked his efforts. A slight quiver of his head. A mass of wrinkles and liver spots on what was once a handsome face. The slow unsteady gait of a man who once strode with purpose and fire.

That slinking rat, Petraeus, who accompanied the imperator everywhere, was also present. There was something about that man which unnerved her. He stood beside his master, but the body servant did not have his back turned. No, he stared at her. To be looked at by one such as he, and in such a manner! Even the soldiers of the imperial guard did not dare meet her eyes. She bit back on a string of vicious oaths, forcing herself to the total perfection of form her grandfather failed at. She should have succeeded him by now as imperatrix, but the fool refused to relinquish his power.

‘Yes,’ said Tolan Laman, without turning. ‘It is best you begin as you mean to go on.’

Her attention refocused on the old man as he turned. Now, what was that supposed to have meant? He was going senile, yes, but still he refused to die. It should have been simple. A pillow over the face, feeble ineffectual thrashing, and then peace.

The body servant smirked at her, as though he knew her thoughts, guessed her desires. Eight attempts to murder the slippery pest had foiled, and eight of her people were missing, never mind those meant to kill her grandfather. She’d lost count at this point. Vanished, as though having never existed, which was impossible. It was as though some divine force protected him.

She frowned, watching the imperator’s rat slink off to a corner, to give them a sense of privacy. Oh, she would linger over his tortured body when the time came. No quick end for that one. Antipa was not someone who knew how to quit.

Tolan smiled at her through hideous wrinkles and purple veins. ‘Yes, Petraeus here does not trust you, but I suppose you know this, granddaughter.’

‘I cannot abide—’

‘I do trust Petraeus,’ he said cutting across her. ‘Funny, isn’t it? Sometimes those we think of as family, the ones we hold closest, are not of our blood at all.’

She felt each word like one slap after another. Some said she got her reputation for abruptness from him, but none could match his skill. It was the indifference, which annoyed her most however, for it seemed he did not want to hurt her. Yes, a true talent. Oh, how she hated him!

‘What do you want from me?’ She decided to dispense with attempting to appeal to any sense of family. It was clear the imperator had himself begun as he meant to go on. ‘You never leave your rooms, so why are you here? I don’t think you’ve visited my chambers once in ten years.’

‘Ah, you would have me remain confined, would you not? No, don’t bother to obfuscate matters, Antipa. I know you better than you know yourself.’

Oh, really?

‘If we are to speak,’ he continued, ‘then let us speak truth and dispense with games. I am too old for it. My time remaining on this world is short, something I know you celebrate. Ah, I see you will not try to deny this. Good. I have long since made my peace with the fact my granddaughters never loved me, no more than they loved their father.’ He let that last hang there for a long moment, before adding, ‘Where were you just now, Antipa?’

She felt rocked by the quick change in topic and tone, the question asked so innocently. Yes, a talent. ‘You dare interrogate me? You may be imperator and my grandfather, but I come and go as I please, as I always have.’

The old fool nodded, as though he had learned something useful. He understood nothing. ‘May I inquire; how is your beautiful sister doing?’

Another slap, this one backhanded in tone. No, but he couldn’t know anything could he? Petraeus, yes, she knew the rat was behind all this. He had spies everywhere, though she had yet to ferret them out, while hers kept disappearing. Well, she had been meaning to do something about it for some time. With matters proceeding on schedule, she could now afford to indulge. A dead man told no tales unless one knew the right necromantic spells.

‘Do not glare at him,’ Tolan Laman snapped, his sharp bark belying his age. ‘I know you spoke with Rade just a few hours ago. I also know you both orchestrated events, forcing Beezer and the other mages back to the islands. No matter if it appeared of their own volition. It took every ounce of my powers in diplomacy to keep the mages I still have. I know you see me as a fool, Antipa. Perhaps I am, but not in the manner you think. I was a fool to believe there was some goodness in either of you, a fool to believe in redemption, in hope.’

‘You really do know nothing.’

‘Oh?’

She felt rather than saw the soldiers file in behind her. They were Heaven’s Guardians, elite bodyguards of the imperator, and subject only to his commands. Aside from the faceless Darken, they were Tolan Laman’s main line of defence.

Behind them entered two viral mages of lower rank. The disgusting creatures positioned themselves near her. Did he know she was weakened from her recent use of power? Of course, he did. It was obvious he knew of her powers to begin with, since Rade was thousands of miles away. Tolan Laman always considered everything before giving orders. It was, to his mind, a requirement of perfection in both action and word.

Well, she would teach him the meaning of perfection, and soon.

‘I see,’ she sneered, ‘you would arrest me on what? The spurious suspicions of a body servant?’ She glared at Petraeus who had the audacity to look saddened. Only, she thought, you’re no body servant, are you? Should we have this out, here and now, Petraeus? Her suspicious as to his true identity were confirmed. There was no way her grandfather could have known of her contact with Rade. No wonder she had failed to kill him. But accusations would serve her nothing. Actions were all that mattered, words as ephemeral as notions such as love and family.

‘Rade remains outside of my reach,’ said the imperator, ‘for now, but I will have her under lock and key too. You both have had too much free time to plot and manipulate. I had dared hope against all reason that one of you would become something more than ... well, what you are.’

‘And, what is it we have become that has you quaking in terror? What is it you think you know?’

Tolan Laman turned his back to her as though examining the serpents again. ‘The only problem you both see is my long life. I will not be around for much longer, Antipa, so you will get your wish. However, I assure you, neither you nor your sister will rule once I’m gone. I have taken steps to make certain of it. Conclave are aware of my wishes and laws were passed in secret at my order. This all occurred within the last few days. However, I’m certain your eyes and ears would have informed you of these matters.’

The conniving Grim-blinded old buzzard! He knew what had happened to her spies. Hands gripped her arms and shoulders, as a Heaven’s Guardian stood to either side of her. Both were heavy-set, with full face guards to disguise identities. Oh, yes, they knew how dangerous she was. The disgusting temerity, to think they could touch her. She would see them lose fingers, and then hands and feet, before she had their eyes scooped out of their heads with rusty spoons. Learning their names and seeking out their families, it wasn’t even a challenge. The undead mages on the other hand – yes, she would need to deal with them first.

‘Ah, there it is,’ said the imperator, glancing back at her, looking more ancient than ever. Good, perhaps he might keel over and die. ‘The rage living within you was always greater than that of your sister. You know, when I said I had hoped one of you might change, I meant Rade. Do you think I don’t know who murdered my son?’

‘If you knew,’ she spat, ‘why didn’t you do anything about it? Why wait all these years?’

The imperator managed a smile and it chilled her. ‘Do you think me senile? Do you think I am clueless as to your true nature, and that of your twin? I’ve suspected it since your birth, and I’ve agonised all these years about what to do. I love you both. It is the reason I am locking you away and not taking your life. Against all advice, I might add. I warn you Antipa; you may not survive my death long.’

She noted Petraeus shift his stance at that last comment, and shot him another glare full of promise.

‘Now, I am left without an heir,’ her grandfather continued. ‘A problem I will soon rectify, for the imperium must go on. Flawed though it may be, it is the only hope for this world.’

‘You have a grandson, you old imbecile,’ Antipa snapped. ‘One who is first in line to rule. In case you haven’t noticed, Calac lives.’ She’d also planned on rectifying that little problem too.

‘And my Akeran does not; he never did bend to your whims. He kept his own mind, as I taught him, and for that you had him slaughtered. Your own father. Your time for deception, for dangerous games, is over. I am putting an end to it this day.’

‘You can’t,’ she spat, struggling to free herself from the guards. She thought about summoning her powers, of melting flesh from bones, of boiling brains in skulls, but she was too tired. A dagger in her back would be enough to end all resistance, although she suspected it wouldn’t happen. The virals would be enough to contain her in her current weakness.

Instead, she shrieked, ‘It’s too late, grandfather. You made your final move and it’s a good one, but you made it too late.’

A nod from the imperator and the soldiers turned her about and marched her out. She’d peel their faces off, each one of them. She’d see them choke on their own wrinkled cocks, laughing as their faces turned blue.

Rage? No, the old wrinkled turd had no idea.