Chapter 17: A Hero Who Pays Back His Enemies

Rhode got up and came forward with a grin. “Come now, Father. However badly I behave, shouldn’t I handle the assignment before thinking about anything else? On the first day, I ought to report to you, so you can’t say later that I neglected my duties.”

The emperor looked him over and laughed. “The sun must have risen in the west.”

Rhode rubbed his hands. “Father, I saw the three elves in prison today. They’re quite something, especially the queen. But I’m uncertain what you intend for them. Do I conduct a token interrogation and execute them, or are they useful alive? Give me a direction and I’ll follow it.”

The emperor sipped his tea and waved dismissively. “A few long-eared commoners. Kill them if you like. The queen is a leader, though, and carries some weight among the foreigners on the border. Use your judgment; just don’t make it too ugly.”

He slumped back. “Who cares what they thought about rebelling? Drive someone into a corner and they’ll jump; when the wall falls, it crushes them. That hasn’t changed for centuries. Those elves can live hundreds of years and still have wooden heads.”

Vincent adjusted his monocle and tapped his ledger twice, expressionless, though his shoulders tightened. As finance minister he knew the final push that drove the elves to rebel had been the special construction tax he imposed. If Rhode suddenly mentioned oppressive taxes, the emperor might demand the accounts on the spot.

Instead, Rhode clapped. “Wise as ever, Father! Rebels deserve death, but the empire must keep up appearances. We can’t let people call us barbarians. We should conduct a proper interrogation, record the testimony, obtain signatures—the entire procedure. Show the elves and our other subject states what imperial rule of law means!”

The flattery pleased the emperor. He pointed at Rhode. “You’ve said something sensible for once. Fine, do as you suggest. They’re yours. Write up the result however you see fit. If you can’t write it, I’ll find someone to help. What you do with the women in the meantime is your affair.”

Rhode inwardly breathed easier. That gave him considerable room to maneuver.

Vincent’s doubts grew, though he showed nothing. His useless brother was different today: articulate, adept at flattery, and even asking instructions before acting. He was unlike the scoundrel who normally demanded money and women.

Rhode ignored his scrutiny and put on a carefree smile. “By the way, Father, there’s one little thing I should mention.” He scratched his head as if choosing his words. “I met Warden Gray at the prison. What a devoted servant of the empire! Strict as can be. He runs the prison so tightly that even I have to watch his mood when I go in. To be honest, a word from the warden carries more weight there than one from me.”

He smiled as though praising the man and even raised a thumb. The emperor’s smile faded. “You’re a prince, and he gave you attitude?”

“No, no, don’t misunderstand. He was enforcing the law impartially. I’m praising him! The empire needs talented men like that; its law officers should be firm!”

The emperor said nothing, tapping the armrest twice. “We’ll deal with Gray later. Have you eaten? You’ve spoken pleasantly for once. Stay and have lunch with me.”

Rhode immediately clutched his stomach. “Please don’t mention food, Father. It makes me sick.”

“Why?”

“The smell in the prison. I spent the morning there, and the warden brought the elf queen such sour food it smelled worse than pig slop. I can still taste it when I burp. But Gray treats everyone equally. It shows our prisons make no exceptions for rank. I truly admire his integrity!”

The emperor stopped smiling. He wasn’t thinking about what prisoners ate. His son had gone to investigate on his behalf, and Gray hadn’t even bothered with appearances. Who was the spoiled food meant to insult?

The elf queen was also a regional leader. If word spread that she was fed pig slop, what would the other subject states think? Could the mighty Calindia Empire not afford a decent prison meal? Combined with Rhode’s remark that the warden’s word counted for more than his, the insult stung all the more.

Vincent read his expression and stepped forward. “Father, the prison system receives its full allocation every month; the accounts are clear. If Warden Gray can’t provide basic food, funds may have been diverted. I’ll send someone to audit it.”

“Oh, brother, don’t!” Rhode reached out earnestly. “I meant to praise Warden Gray. He’s merely frugal; that’s hardly a major fault. Please don’t investigate him because I spoke out of turn, or people will say I’m petty and seeking revenge. How unfair would that be?”

The more he protested, the more suspicious the emperor became. “Investigate,” he ordered. “Your second brother oversees the treasury; he has every right to check the accounts. Otherwise those below will think the emperor is too far away to notice what they put in their pockets.”

Vincent nodded. “As you command, Father.”