Faith of the Fallen (Sword of Truth 6)

She changed the subject back to what she really wanted to know about. “Since when has the all-conquering Emperor Jagang turned soft and wanted to live in splendor?”

“Ah, but I am Jagang the Just, now. Remember?” He returned to the bed and flopped down beside her. “Nicci, I’m sorry I hurt you. I never want to hurt you, but you make me do it. You know I care about you.”

“You care about me, yet you beat me? You care about me, yet you never bothered to tell me of such an enormous project as the building of a palace? I am insignificant to you.”

“I told you, I’m sorry I hurt you—but that was your own fault and you know it.” He spoke the words almost lovingly. With mention of the palace, his face had softened into a visionary look. “It’s only proper and fitting that I at last have the prestige of such a monumental edifice.”

“You, the man who was content in tents in the field, now wants to live in a resplendent building? Why?”

“Because once I bring the New World under the guidance of the Order, I will owe it to all the people, as their leader, to be seen in a majestic setting…but it will have more than simple splendor.”

“But of course,” she sniped.

He gathered up her hand. “Nicci, I will proudly wear the title Jagang the Just. You’re right, the time has come for such a move. I was only angered because you wrongly made that move without first discussing it with me. But let us forget that, now.”

She said nothing. He gripped her hand more tightly, to show his sincerity, she supposed.

“You’re going to love the palace, when it’s finished.” He ran the back of the fingers of his other hand tenderly down her cheek. “We will all live there for a very long time.”

The words struck a cord in her. “A very long time?”

For the first time she realized there was something more to this than simply his vanity of wanting a palace after Richard had denied him the Palace of the Prophets. He wanted what else Richard had denied him. Could it be…

She looked up into his face, searching for the answer. He simply smiled at the questions in her eyes.

“Construction has already begun,” he said, turning his words away from those questions. “Architects and great builders from all over the Old World have gathered to work on it. Everyone wants to be part of such a grand project.”

“And Brother Narev?” she probed. “What does he think of building such a frivolous monument to one man when there is important work to be done for so many needy people?”

“Brother Narev and his disciples greatly favor the project.” Jagang flashed her a sly smile. “They will live there, too, of course.”

Understanding washed over her.

“He’s going to spell the new palace,” she whispered in astonishment to herself.

Jagang only smiled as he watched her, clearly pleased with her reaction.

Brother Narev had been at the Palace of the Prophets almost as long as she, nearly one hundred and seventy years, but in all that time he seemed to have aged only ten or fifteen years—the same as she. No one but Nicci ever knew he was anything but a stablehand—they didn’t know he was gifted.

In all that time, with her, along with everyone else, paying him little heed, he must have been studying the spell around the palace. From what she knew, most of Brother Narev’s disciples had been young wizards from the Palace of the Prophets; they had access to the vaults. They, too, could have added information that helped him. But could he really do such a thing?

“Tell me about the palace,” she said, preferring his voice to the silent scrutiny of his nightmare eyes.

He kissed her first, the way a man kisses a woman, not the way a brute kisses a victim. She endured it with no more favor than any of the rest of it. He seemed not to notice, this time, and by the smile of his face, appeared to have enjoyed it.

“It will be a walk of nearly fifteen miles to walk all the halls.” He swept a hand out and began to give shape to the grand palace in the air before them. As he went on, he stared off at his imaginary outline, hanging there in space.

“The world has never seen anything to match it. While I carry on with our work of bringing the hope of the Order to the New World, of bringing the true word of the Creator to the wicked and the greedy, of banishing the selfish ideals of the ancient religion of magic, back in my homeland the work of building the palace will go on.

“Quarries will be busy for years extracting all the rock that will go into the construction. The variety of stone will leave no doubt about the glory of the place. The marble will be the finest. The woods will be only the best. Every material going into the palace will be exceptional. The best craftsmen will shape it all into a grand structure.”

“Yes, but, despite the fact that others may live there,” she mocked in cool disdain, “it will be but a pompous monument to only one man: the great and powerful Emperor Jagang.”

“No, it will be devoted to the glory of the Creator.”

“Oh? And will the Creator be taking up residence there, too, then?”

Jagang scowled at her blasphemy. “Brother Narev wishes the palace to be instructional to the people. He is contributing his spiritual guidance to the undertaking, and will personally oversee the construction while I cleanse the way for the Order.”

That was what she wanted to know.

He stared off at the invisible shape still hanging in the air before them. His voice took on a reverent tone.

“Brother Narev shares my vision in this. He has always been like a father to me. He put the fire in my belly. His spiritual direction has been a lifelong inspiration. He allows me to stand at the fore, and take the glory of our victories, but I would be nothing without his moral teachings. What I win is only as the fist of the Order, and a fist is but one part of the whole, as we are all but insignificant fragments of society as a whole. You are right: many others could stand in my place for the Order. But it is my part to be the one to lead us. I would never do anything to betray the trust Brother Narev has placed in me—that would be like betraying the Creator Himself. He guides the way for all of us.

“I only thought to build a fitting palace for us all, a place from which to govern for the benefit of the people. It was Brother Narev who took up the dream and gave it moral meaning by envisioning everyone, when they see the vast structure, as seeing man’s place in the new order—seeing that man can never live up to the glory of the Creator, and that, individually, he is but a meaningless member of the greater brotherhood of man and thus can have no greater part to play than to uplift all his brothers in need so all will thrive together. Yet, it will also be a place that will humble every man before it, by showing him his utter insignificance before the glory of his Creator, by showing man’s depravity, his tortured, contorted, inferior nature, for all men in this world are such as this.”

Nicci could almost see such a place when he spoke of it. It would indeed be a humbling inspiration to the people. He came near to inspiring her with such talk, as Brother Narev had at one time inspired her.

“This is why I have stayed,” she whispered, “because the cause of the Order is righteous.”

The piece that had been missing was now found.

In the quiet, Jagang kissed her again. She allowed him to finish it, and then pushed away from his embrace. With a distant smile, he watched as she rose and began dressing.

“You’re going to love it there, Nicci. It will be a place befitting you.”

“Oh? As the Slave Queen?”

“As a queen, if you wish it. I plan to give you the kind of authority you’ve never before had. We’ll be happy there, you and I, truly happy. For a long, long time, we’ll be happy there.”

She drew a stocking up her leg. “When Sister Ulicia and the four with her found a way to leave you, I chose to ignore their discovery and stay, because I know the Order is the only moral course for mankind. But now I—”

“You stayed because you would be nothing without the Order.”

She looked away from his eyes. She tugged her dress down over her head, poked her arms through the sleeves, and worked the skirt over her hips. “I am nothing without the Order, and I am nothing with it. No one is. We are all inadequate, miserable creatures; that is the nature of man; that is what the Creator teaches. But the Order shows man his duty to make a better life for the good of all.”

“And I am the emperor of the Imperial Order!” His red face cooled more slowly than it had heated. He gestured vaguely in the hollow silence and he went on in a more mellow tone. “The world will be one under the Order. We’ll be happy at the palace when it’s finished, Nicci. You and I, under the spiritual guidance of our priests. You’ll see. In time, when—”

“I’m leaving.” She drew on a boot.

“I will not permit it.”

Nicci paused at pulling on her other boot and glanced up into his dark eyes. She flicked a finger toward a stone vase on a table against the far wall. Light flashed. The vase exploded in a cloud of dust and chips with a sound that rocked the room. The draperies shuddered. The panes in the windows chattered.

When the dust had settled, she said, “You will not permit it?” She bent forward and began doing up the laces on her boots.

Jagang strolled over to the table and dragged his fingers through the dust that was all that remained of the stone vase. He turned back to her in all his naked, hairy, imperial glory.

“Are you threatening me? Do you actually think you could use your power against me?”

“I do not think it”—she yanked the laces tight—“I know it. The truth is I choose not to.”