should that win you standing room on the Armistice Ship? Forgive my indelicacy for bringing it up, but your ancestor ruled half the world over a thousand years ago; you, on the other hand, stand to inherit a paltry few city-states squeezed together on a snaking tract of ground between powerful empires that need you only as caretaker for a washed-up buffer state. Speaking as one fading figurehead to another, hasn’t it worried you that they give you this much attention? It should, you know.”
“Why? Is it not an honor to be included?”
Tubaal-qayin Dumuzi laughed with a noncommittal shrug. “If you say so.”
Yet the bleary eyes and weary words of the Emperor had gotten under Tarbet’s skin. “Please, Lord, enlighten your slow-witted servant. What are you hinting at?”
“I’m related by marriage to one of your seers, remember?” Tubaal-qayin lifted a goblet of wine from the tray of a passing steward and gulped it down in one long swallow. “Maybe he’s actually rubbed off some of his power on me, because I think I can predict your future pretty well.”
Tarbet found the reminder distasteful, but he said, “I’m listening.”
“First come the grand designs.” Tubaal-qayin Dumuzi’s eyes stared off into space as if he was remembering. “Uggu, or maybe Avarnon-Set in your case, will inflame your imagination with all sorts of titan-sized political—or perhaps in your case, religious—schemes. It won’t matter much in the end what these are, but they will be grand, and they will promise the most intoxicating opportunities. And they will come at a time when the world needs them most—that’s important to remember…”
Tarbet w anted to escape Dumuzi the Shepherd’s company, but could not think of a way to do so diplomatically.
“…Then will come the favors and the debts—their favors and your debts. The Powers behind them are real , and will work untold wonders for your benefit—things you would never think to ask for yourself, and many things that you would…”
“Are you saying they are evil?”
Tubaal-qayin twitched his scrawny shoulders in another nervous shrug. “Depends on how you define evil . Many good things will get done. Many will live better lives. The rich get richer, and the poor don’t mind being poor so much because they are fed and entertained—nothing wrong with that; is there? I didn’t think so. In some ways I still don’t.”
“Then what is the debt? Are they Dragon worshipers or something? Are you saying that I must sell my soul?”
“Dragon worshipers,” the Dumuzi chuckled. “You Setiim have such a rustic way of putting things. Worried about your soul, are you?”
Tarbet blanched. “It’s just that the hard-line seers among my people have insisted for some time that the titans—regardless of their political alignment—are universally sons of demons. And they mean that in its most literal sense—hardly a sense that an intelligent man could take seriously. For a moment I thought you were saying…”
Tubaal-qayin interrupted with a wan smile. “Maybe I was saying.”
Tarbet pretended to chuckle at the joke that was not a joke. He waited for the Dumuzi to clear the air.
The Emperor seemed to think better of leaving the conversation to hang there. “Of course I don’t mean demons in the sense that your rustic philosophers do. Still, if you knew what they had my Guild working on…”
“Some new marvel of quickfire and steel?”
Tubaal-qayin appeared for a moment to be nothing more than a thinly bearded skull covered in stretched skin. “The Fire of the Gods,” he whispered, “but don’t say you heard it from me.”
The Dumuzi turned and exited the salon before Tarbet could ask for further explanation.
Tarbet would have tried to piece together the Emperor’s enigma, but he noticed Pandura circling the salon his way. Their eyes met , and he thought he saw the same green fire there that he remembered sharing with her briefly so long ago. His
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