Enlightened Empire

Deserted Wonders of the World shops were a familiar sight to Brym by now. Thus, as he sat in the center of his empty store and stared at the entrance, he wasn't bothered by the eerie calm. Unlike many other stores in the north, at least this one hadn't been looted and burned down. Even the shop keepers were still here, safe enough to remain in plain sight, although they couldn't do their main work any longer.

Instead of easing silver out of the pockets of their rich customers, they were cleaning the store to keep themselves busy, while Brym remained seated, waiting for his expected company to arrive.

At least he didn't have to wait for long. Not long after Brym himself had entered his shop, a guest arrived as well, though this one wasn't here to buy anything. Moreover, he would no doubt turn from guest to host soon. After all, Challwala had been the home of House Betucio for generations.

Looks like he's still well-connected, despite his isolation, Brym thought as he stood up to greet the visitor.

"Governor Betucio, how good to see you again. It's been too long."

Clean-shaven and red-robed, the middle-aged Governor of the North didn't fit at all into the image of his city. Maybe that was why his own king was treating him like an outsider. Quite possibly, that Betucio returned a pained smile when Brym stretched out his arms in an inviting gesture.

"Likewise, young master Brym," he nevertheless said. "Though this lord would have preferred to meet under less tense circumstances. Minister Brym's actions have certainly lit fire a fire in the northern kingdom. Its heat can be felt all the way here."

"Haha, I never intended to trouble anyone," Brym tried to deflect the veiled criticism. "I am simply protecting my investment. Though of course, I do hope that the upcoming meeting will put an end to the unsavory conflicts, and to Amautu's political overreach. After all, in Medala, the lords still matter as much as their king. King Amautu's lust for power needs to be stopped before he does irreparable damage to Medala's stability. He needs to realize that he is just the first among many, nothing more."

The shameless Brym made his argument without once losing his calm smile, despite the fact that the powers of the lords had already been heavily restricted in the southern kingdom. If there was anyone who couldn't complain about Amautu's attempts to centralize power, surely it would be a member of Corco's court. Still, the experienced Governor of the North had the tact of old nobility — and that of an old friendship with Brym — and so didn't call him out on his nonsense.

"Indeed, which is the main reason this governor was willing to help organize such a meeting of the lords," he agreed instead. "Although it might be dangerous, something has to be done. Not only for the sake of House Betucio, but for the sake of King Amautu as well."

For the first time since his arrival, Betucio's face changed, from a tense frown to a more relaxed, but troubled one. Strangely, Brym didn't get the feeling that the governor was lying, which confused him quite a bit.

"Wait, I thought Amautu had taken all power from the northern governor position, taken over Governor Betucio's city, and thrown you out of his Scholarly Court?" Brym asked, in an attempt to sow dissent within the northern forces. He really didn't want to work with someone who had sympathy for his enemies. However, despite Betucio's sigh, his calm reply disappointed Brym.

"Indeed, all of it is true. However, this governor is still deeply troubled by the path King Amautu has taken these years. The king himself is a good man, that much is certain. At least in our many conversations, he has always been as selfless as he was ambitious. All this time, the king only wanted the best for the people of Medala. Yet too many have misunderstood his intentions, until he could only rely on the scholars to secure his throne. Now King Amautu, to reliant on outside forces, is no longer in full control of his kingdom. Things need to change, and fast. Otherwise, there will be a revolt like the one Saniya has suffered. Last year, the commoners were lynching lords and priests, this time they might lynch scholars on top of it."

"Not to worry, Lord Betucio." Brym slapped his chest to look more confident. "With the combined strength of the northern lords — and backed by the Kingdom of the South — not even the arrogant Chutwa scholars would dare oppose us. Against such a powerful, united front, they will only be able to yield their ill-gotten power and flee back across the sea."

By the end of his speech, Brym's chest had swelled, and his eyes focused somewhere in the distance, just like he had practiced many times. However, Betucio only sighed again in response, clearly not infected by the young minister's enthusiasm.

"Hopefully you are right, my friend. The north has long suffered too much blood and fire."

From high atop the Sky Zigurrat, all of Challwala could be observed. Only, the Zigurrat's foundation was so narrow, and its walls so thick, that up here on the highest floor, only a single person could fit comfortably. Still, it was a great place for Amautu to observe his capital, the largest city of his kingdom.

Somewhere down there, hidden between these blocks of stone, Brymstock di Pluritac — his brother's thieving little magpie — had made himself comfortable in a new nest. Not only he alone, various lords of his northern kingdom had also come to bother Amautu here in his home. If his information was correct — and it usually was — they were trying to unite and pressure their king into giving up on some of the rights he had secured only recently.

Their plans were good, Amautu thought. At the very least, he had been forced into a corner once again. Just like last time, when that merchant had put pressure on him to recognize his act of thievery in Porcero, the southerner from the Orient was once more manipulating the people of the north for his own benefit. Once again, Amautu's citizens were suffering under attacks from common bandits, paid and organized by Brymstock. And once again, his people were blaming their king for the damage.

Though of course, the lords were better informed than the common people. They would know who was really at fault for this mess. They knew, and yet they still sided with that southern barbarian, all of it just to gain an advantage in their endless struggle against the harmonious, unifying power of their central ruler. Medala had played this sort of game for centuries, emperors and lords vying for power, always pitted against each other.

What a waste of time, Amautu concluded.

Didn't these people know that centralization was inevitable, eventually? Chutwa itself was perfect proof for this, as were many other countries around the world. Even those backwards orientals had kings and queens. Yet the locals still stubbornly resisted progress.

By fighting the natural progression of things, the lords of Medala just held the Twin Isles back from advancing beyond its backwards nature, and now they were all stuck in this endless squabble, as him and his brothers slowly ground each other down while those lords acted as hyenas in the background.

Well, at least our oldest has done the right thing.

Whenever Amautu thought of the way his brother Corco had cleaned up those greedy lords in the south, he couldn't help but feel satisfied. However, his next realization ruined his mood once again.

Even the bastard has done better than this king. This king cannot fall behind. Now is the best opportunity to take control.

With the various players assembled in the city, Amautu could soon change the political landscape of Medala once more, just like his two brothers had. Not long and the power of the King of the North would once more be strengthened.

"Junior, are you up here?"

Just as Amautu was refining his plans, an inconvenient, impolite voice from down the ladder behind him interrupted his thoughts.

"Indeed. Is there any need for this king's presence, senior brother?" Although Amautu's voice remained polite and calm, his face had twisted into a sour frown, as always when he thought of his senior brother while no one was around.

"There is no more time to waste. Junior will need to prepare for his imminent journey to Tequitlali. Junior cannot afford to let the princess wait."

Ah yes, a marriage no one but my dear master wanted. And my dear senior brother of course, Amautu thought. They had been bugging him over this marriage for a long time, though the king was still unwilling.

In truth, he wasn't completely opposed to the idea of a political marriage. If nothing else, he was quite eager to win over another ally, something he was severely lacking. After all, he was desperate enough to leave his country in the hands of the scholars, since no one else wanted to work with him.

He had lost the trust of the lords after he had limited their powers, the priests didn't like him because of his Chutwa faith, and the Orientals had been won over by the clever Corco. By now, the scholars were the only force he could rely on, which made the addition of another ally a necessity to balance out their influence. Still, he couldn't just up and leave, not when the kingdom was in such a chaotic state.

"This king shall depart soon, after the meeting with the southern kingdom's representative," he thus delayed. However, his fellow disciple's reply was once again rude, and once again didn't take the king's wishes or the kingdom's needs into account.

"Junior, surely there is no need to value a common merchant this highly. That maggot should have no right to even meet with a disciple of a great scholar. How could he possibly understand the wisdom of the Way as imparted by Master Ichtaka? Surely, the best course of action would be to simply leave them be and fulfill Master's orders as quickly as possible. In the meantime, this senior of yours shall handle the matter with the merchant, and the disobedient barbarians."

Ah yes, surely you'll handle it well. And while this king is off to get married to some woman across the sea, this good senior brother of mine will take the opportunity to put the kingdom in order. His order, of course. Who knows if there will still be a crown to wear once this king returns from the trip.

Amautu knew very well that his senior brother had always been jealous of him. After all, his senior was a proper Chutwa native, and Master Ichtaka's oldest disciple. He probably had a hard time grasping how his junior brother — a barbarian no less —could control his own country while he was still penniless. Maybe he even felt insulted that his inferior junior hadn't already handed over his power of his own accord. Still, this time, his entitled senior's selfishness suited Amautu just fine.

"And how does senior brother expect to handle them?" he asked. As he observed the city, his eyes narrowed.

"Simply get rid of them," a vicious voice came from down below, like a snake's hiss from the underworld. "Now that all of them are in one place, they shall be slaughtered like the disobedient dogs they are. These barbarians do not deserve to enter negotiations as if they were equals to the great scholars. Those unenlightened by the Way better know their place, or they shall be removed."

Yes, you take all your contempt, and act on your heart's desire, Amautu thought, but he tried hard to make his next words sound displeased.

"This king cannot agree to such rash action. Senior brother, this king shall never allow anyone to willfully incites war in this king's lands, even if that someone deserves this king's respect."

"This scholar is your senior!" an unhappy growl came back, before he cited the scripture of the Way. "The junior is to adhere to his senior's advice, lest he shall go astray."

I knew you'd say that again.

Happy with his successful prediction, Amautu smiled heartily. Jealousy had turned his wise senior into an idiot, easy to predict and easy to exploit.

"Does Master know about these grand plans, Senior Brother?" Amautu asked the key question. For a moment, silence returned to the top of the Sky Zigurrat, before his senior's voice replied once more.

"This Senior will do what is best for the enlightenment of the people," he insisted, rather than replying to the question. "And Junior better not get too involved, lest he miss his ship to Tequitlali. Then, Master will truly be cross."

"Not to worry, senior brother, this King is fully capable of resolving the current chaos before departure time. Further, any complaints Master has, this disciple will take up with Master himself."

Although Amautu's words were cold, a sly smile was on his lips as he listened to his senior brother stomp away in anger. With this, his jealous senior brother would surely plan for the assassination of the magpie, and for the assassination of those disobedient lords while he was at it.

Meanwhile, Brymstock and his band of thieves would surely anticipate such an attack, and try to prevent it. Yet whichever of the two sides won, Amautu surely wouldn't suffer.

If the southerner won and repelled his senior's attack, he could use the excuse of his fellow disciple's overreach of power — as well as his loss of control over Challwala — to weaken the influence of the scholars in his court. Even his master would see reason once his best disciple's plans failed in such an abject manner. Once his master realized that they were getting nowhere with pure violence, he would be forced to adopt gentler methods to enlighten the people of Medala, just like Amautu had always wanted.

Meanwhile, if the southern magpie was unprepared and his senior's assassination plan succeeded, Amautu would get rid of his greatest headache, and then he could push all the blame onto his senior brother. Absolved from criticism by the remaining lords or the Ancestral Hall in Arguna, he would have the power to finally centralize the country. As a little bonus, he could even ally with the remaining lords — who would have nowhere left to turn — to weaken the influence of the scholars in turn.

Through the light drizzle of evening, Amautu continued to watch over his city. Down there, various players had begun to move their pieces, yet such a game was far too low-brow for a king. The lord of these lands would simply remain here and watch as the players took each other's pieces off the board. Only at the end would he move in to decide a winner.

Whatever these people were thinking, this was still his city. Here, only the king could be the ultimate victor.

After months of experience, Inti would no longer try to contact the local ghost forces through Brym's shops when entering a new city. As the public signpost of the southern kingdom in the north, these were the first places to be targeted by the scholars every time they attempted to take down a city.

Thus, rather than waste her time in a depressing, empty shop monitored by the enemy, Inti immediately turned to the most secretive ghost hideout she knew in Challwala. Code name 'Old Well' was an ancient hideout of the ghosts, from before the time her mother had taken control of the emperor's ghost warriors. In fact, the existence of the hideout could even predate the late emperor Titu himself. Most likely, it had been established by some previous emperor's forces to keep an eye on the loyalty of his northern governor. Considering the hideout's secretive location, Inti wasn't surprised the place hadn't been discovered until now.

Hidden deep within a long-abandoned part of Challwala's sewers, hidden beyond endless labyrinthine corridors — and behind several secret entrances — this place was practically impossible to find without a map. In fact, even with the map she had memorized, it had taken Inti the best part of a day to find her way.

I just hope Brym will be patient and won't run head-first into needless trouble again.

Her travel companion surely was clever, and good with his words, but he certainly was also arrogant. He tended to overestimate the control he had over a situation, and so repeatedly left himself in dangerous positions. And as far as Inti was concerned, the current was the most dangerous position they had ever stumbled into.

Thus, she had decided to activate every single force she could find within the city. No matter how hidden, no matter how important, she would use all the pieces she had available, to make sure Brym wouldn't die and their travels in the north wouldn't end in catastrophic failure.

Just be patient for a little bit, you fool.Take a nap or something. I'll be back soon, she addressed Brym in her head as she opened the final door, the one which would lead her to the hideout proper at last.

As soon as the hidden door of wet stone slid opened, Inti was greeted with warm light from inside, proof that this hideout was still manned.

Good, let's have them spread out and call for all the local ghosts. I'll have to act before Amautu can, she organized her thoughts, yet when she saw who was waiting for her inside the hideout, Inti forgot all about her previous plans.

"Mother?" she asked in confusion. It appeared as if, for this great game, the elusive spy queen had placed herself on the board to join the game.