In the centre of the Imperial city atop a hilly embankment sat the Premier’s palace. It was surrounded by large walls and was guarded night and day by the best Guards that the Imperial’s could train. It was a circular white building with a large thin white tower in the centre that stood proudly above the city where the Premier could observe his domain from the balcony and ponder issues of politics. Many meetings would be held in the high balcony room with officials and elders to discuss issues affecting the governance of the people of this Empire. But his illness had meant he was rendered useless, and as he sipped the warm cocktail of herbs the healers had gave him he shifted uncomfortably in his bed. How he wished he could go to his tower, his place of sanctity. But right now he could not stand, and the best healers in the city feared the worst. Premier Davros was dying, and he knew it. His daughter entered the chamber and crouched by his bedside kissing his hand. She looked upon him with pity and sadness in her eyes; she knew the pain he was suffering. She nodded to the healer who watched over him. ‘Father, I don’t want to aggravate your illness any more, but I promised you I would tell you everything that is happening in your realm’ She paused as his father slowly opened his blood shot eyes looking on the face of his child. ‘Father there are rumours from the East that two towns have been attacked and many people have died’ his tired eyes looked upon his daughter and the pain was obvious. He rubbed her face speaking slowly ‘please, tell me everything’ followed by a vicious cough that echoed in the room. ‘Machiavel is downplaying it all, but now more and more travellers have arrived with the news. I think the General maybe trying to stop a panic, but too many people are talking. The people are getting suspicious and…….. they miss you father’ composure lost, a tear was visible in her eye ‘The people really miss you, they come to me in the street with wishes of good luck. I’m so glad you have cared for your people in the way you do, and I don’t know what we will do if….’ She couldn’t stop this time and her head lowered to her hands. The Premier tried to sit up and his face grimaced with the pain. He stroked her hair, speaking slowly ‘Daughter, do not worry, the Elders have the people’s best interests at heart. They will vote for a good replacement, there are many good people to choose from’ he coughed again violently, and a healer stepped forward wiping his mouth with a warm cloth. ‘I hope so father, I really hope so.’
Once Laticia left her father she went to go and see Davros, a Imperial Elder and family friend to discuss the rumours. The Premier’s palace was close to the chamber of the Elders and she walked across the Imperial gardens towards the large domed building. She had always enjoyed this walk; the flowers and plants here were well tended by healers, which they used for medicinal purposes. Crossing the courtyard she saw healers she knew who tended the plants, each one offering pleasant comments on her father’s recovery. Once she entered the building she walked around the circular corridor which surrounded the debating chamber and found his office. Knocking on the door he ushered her inside pulling a chair for her. She thanked him and sat down politely refusing tea.
‘I am glad to see you are well Laticia, how is the Premier?’ Speaking frankly, she answered ‘He is not well, I will not lie to you anymore – it is almost certain he will die, so we have to discuss his replacement’. The news troubled the greying man. He stroked his long beard and thought for a moment ‘I thought this may be the case, but as you know the Elder’s attention is on this news of apparent attacks. One of our captains has returned reporting ill news. In fact it is best I stop now, as the General is to brief us in a few minutes in the main chambers. Shall we go?’
The main chamber filled quickly with many Imperial elders. Davros walked in clutching his stick in one hand, his other arm hooked with the young Leticia. He sat down in his usual spot away from the cold breeze and they waited as the activity died down and everyone took their places. The rumours meant the room was full of. The general than entered striding confidently. He wore full military armour. It was cleanly polished and the gold and emerald green patterns were an attractive suit contrasting to the dull grey robes of the elders. He looked like a man of power – something not lost on Davros. Behind him a young women followed. She had long flowing black hair and a robe as black as the night. She seemed to struggle as she sat down next to the general.
‘Who’s the girl?’ Leticia whispered to Davros.
‘I have never seen her before today; I don’t like the look of her to be honest’ The general stood to the podium with some papers in his hand. He looked across the hall at the elders. The chairman ushered him to speak and he cleared his throat to begin.
‘You have all heard the rumours of the attacks on our towns I’m sure. You are all probably wandering whether they are true or not’ he paused and many people looked to each other anticipating confirmation or denial.
‘As the general of the Imperial guard, I am responsible for defence related issues such as these, and I can confirm here today in front of you all – The Empire is under attack!’
There was some commotion in the ranks of benches as people absorbed what Machiavel told them.
‘Silence please’ the Elder chairman announced, trying to regain order. Machiavel continued.
‘As you may or may not know Atriop was attacked and many, if not all of its inhabitants have been murdered. Also Ibilis has suffered the same fate’
People’s faces were that of shock. This meant many citizens were murdered. The news almost passed by people due to the calm nature in the general’s voice.
‘Now I am also aware that you expected me to come here to give you all an update, which I have. But I am here with other news’
Davros and Leticia exchanged worried looks. If this were true than thousands of people were dead.
‘These attacks on two of our towns means that as general I can officially grant a ‘Crisis’ status to the empire, which I have done. Being in Crisis status means that the Premier may impose martial law, and all power is held with himself and the military. As you are obviously aware, the premier is incapacitated at this current time….’ Davros sighed at this. He knew what this meant.
‘As general of the guard, I am enacting article 12 of the Imperial code’
The room exploded with noise as Elders from all sides protested their outrage. Liberty looked to Davros confused ‘Article 12?’ Again the Chairman had to try to regain calm, but struggled to be heard over the noise
‘SILENCE ELDERS’ he demanded ‘SILENCE’
Again the noise died down but murmuring was heard from all corners. Machiavel looked around the room studying the faces, and spoke again
‘As many of you who study our codes know, this means that decision making power goes from the Premier to the head of the Guard…’
He pointed to himself ‘…me’
‘I have decided to impose martial law on the realm, and all decision making is to go through me. As acting premier, I decide when crisis status is lifted. So to summarise….’
The general’s took one last look at the elders, taking a deep breath.
‘I am you’re ruler now. That is all’
He strode confidently back out of the chamber ignoring the angry voices of the Elders. Closely behind him the mysterious woman followed him out.
Bryant and Michaels walked side by side in uniform up the busy lane. The captain felt revitalised after sleeping in his own bed, the first time for some days. He had enjoyed a long bath, shave and a meal that Liberty who stayed in his guestroom had provided. He enjoyed her company, and would be happy to let her stay as long as she needed to. The cold morning air persisted and the citizens of the upper houses of the city went about their business, looking and occasionally buying items from the stalls. Many wore long fur coats protecting them from the winter elements.
‘What could he possibly want?’ Michaels asked. They turned right and ahead of them on the hilly embankment the Premier’s palace stood tall. Just to the right the domed Elder debating chamber also stood proudly, their large white bricks reflecting the morning sun.
‘I don’t know Sergeant, but soon we will find out.’
‘The cheek of the general! He has even taken the Premier’s tower as his office’
Bryant could do nothing but agree as they approached the large white walls surrounding the government buildings. A very large fully armoured guard stood at the entrance to the gate. Two small towers stood either side of the gate containing archers that eyed the pair with suspicion.
‘What do you want?’ the large man demanded.
‘I’m Captain Bryant, and this is Sergeant Michaels. We have an appointment with the General’
The Guard looked up from his list suddenly with a piercing look
‘That’s Premier to you, Premier Machiavel and don’t you forget it’
Bryant was dumfounded.
‘Err. Ok Premier than. We have an appointment with the Premier’
‘Go in than’ and the guard grudgingly opened the gate. The Captain and Michaels entered walking along the path towards the white tower.
‘Wow things have changed in here’ Bryant noted. Michaels just nodded in agreement as he looked up at the tall tower standing above him.
‘I never knew it was so tall, now I’m close. How can man build things like this?’
The white marble tower stood proudly above them, its summit touching the clouds. It was the symbol of the Imperial Government and was known to all citizens, even those that hadn’t seen it with their eyes. On the Eastern side facing the Arcrusian Mountains a large Snake emblem of green and gold was etched into the marble structure halfway up. It glistened as the sun passed overhead and could be seen for miles along the Eastern Road.
Once they had ascended the clean white marble steps they reached the large corridor leading to the room that was Machiavel’s new office. Menacing guards stood by the door. They demanded the two soldier’s swords before allowing them to enter. Bryant noted that their uniforms were not Imperial, neither were their manners. They wore long black cloaks no doubt disguising high quality armour and weaponry. Something Bryant’s soldiers could only dream about. They entered into the large white circular room, the snake etched into the ground. Machiavel ignored their presence and just stood on the balcony gazing out onto the city below.
Bryant cleared his throat.
‘Yes Captain I Know your there’
‘Good morning sir’
The precious premier’s desk was still in the same spot, full of papers messily scattered everywhere. Bryant felt a pang of sadness for the ill man whose office this was. Himself and other Captains had held meetings in this very room. He remembered the soft compassionate voice of Alec. The respect he gave to all his staff, and most importantly the love of all the citizens. He remembered Alec always would look out to the city pointing and say to the soldiers: ‘Never forget why you wear that uniform day in and day out. You wear it for one purpose, and that is to serve them. They do not serve you. If you ever forget that fact, you have forgotten yourself’ .Bryant had never forgotten, but now a new pair of eyes looked onto the city. These ones held no love.
‘It’s a great site isn’t it, the city?’
‘Err yes sir it is. I’ve had the honour of viewing this site before with Premier Alec’ . Machiavel gave Bryant a cold stare.
Below they could see the city spread out in front of them, and the square walls that surrounded it. The morning sun was still low in the sky, its large orange glow reflecting of all the rooftops. A flock of birds could be seen flying across their view, and just beyond the walls the lush green fields beyond. In the distance to the East the Arcrusian mountains stood tall, its snowy peaks visible. Bryant looked and his thoughts returned to Atriop. He recalled the destruction, and it disturbed him. Machiavel continued
‘I only have one problem with it’ the premier said. He pointed out towards a section of the city, his face locked in a sneer. ‘The slum. It’s hideous’. Before Bryant could reply, the premier spun round looking him in the face ‘you’re from the slum, aren’t you Bryant’. It was a rhetorical question.
‘Well, yes sir I am’ Bryant replied.
‘I see’ Machiavel replied. He looked away and returned back into the circular room sitting at the high chair behind the desk. He pointed to the chairs in front for them to sit.
‘Now Sergeant Michaels, I’ve gone over your report and its very interesting reading.’ He shifted through some papers in his hand.
‘It says that Atriop was a wreck.’
Michaels nodded. ‘Yes sir. It was quite unbelievable to be frank with you’
‘Hmmm,’
‘I’ve read through it all. Rebels on the road, woman assassins in the woods, the scout murdered. All very very……interesting’
‘Yes general, it was some mission!’
’Let me remind you sergeant that I’m premier now and wish to be addressed like it. I am to be called Sire, and that includes you Bryant.’
‘Now Bryant, I have also gone over your report. I have it here also’
‘Ok Sir’ he replied.
Machiavel hit his fist on the table.
‘IM TO BE ADDRESSED AS SIRE YOU SLUM DIRT!’ The pair looked at each other eyes widened. He suddenly calmed ‘Now back to business, here Michaels why don’t you read Bryant’s report’ He threw it into the hands of the young sergeant. Michaels read through some of the report, and as he did so he became more and more agitated. Bryant confused tried to see what he was reading, suddenly Michaels turned to the captain anger on his face.
‘How could you?’ he demanded. Bryant was taken aback ‘Captain?! Why have you done this to me? I thought we were friends?’
Bryant stayed speechless looking from the Premier to his junior his mouth open.
‘What…..what is happening here?’ is all he could say.
Michaels stood from the chair backing away from the captain ‘You blamed it all on me, the whole murder. Why?.... WHY?’ He put his head in his hands.
‘Of course, I thought that you were different, different from those pieces of dirt from the slum. But you’re all the same! AREN’T YOU?!’
Bryant couldn’t breathe properly; he felt a wave of nausea pass over him. He stood his arm stretched out towards Michaels speaking ‘I didn’t….I didn’t’
He repeated
‘I didn’t Michaels’.
Michaels backed away again.
‘STAY AWAY FROM ME!’
He looked to the Premier ‘This is all lies Machiavel, I would never do this. You know my father; he’s from the upper houses’. The premier sat silently, his calmness contrasting to the emotion of the other room’s inhabitants. A small smile came over his face. ‘Of course Michaels, I think it’s quite obvious what is occurring here. Bryant has lied so you would get the blame. He thought I would not believe the storey of the assassin and blame someone for murder, didn’t you Captain?’
Now all eyes were on the Captain, who stood looking from Michaels to the Premier ‘I would never…..
Please Michaels, you know I would never do that’ the premier rose and stood beside the distraught Michaels. ‘Don’t worry sergeant, I believe you. And I think Bryant is to become our first example. The previous premier may have tolerated slum behaviour like this, but I will not!’
Bryant became light headed, the whole scene was becoming too much, and he sank onto one knee tears now visible in his eyes. ‘I would never do that….not ever.’
‘GUARDS!’ The premier called. Four large cloaked men came into the room from the corridor ready to obey instructions.
‘Arrest him’ pointing to the distraught captain. He put his arm around Michaels ‘Now my first change is to re-enact the death penalty, and who better to receive this glorious punishment than our slum boy here’
Bryant just looked at Michaels shaking his head. Shackled, the guards lifted him onto his feet.
‘And what better place than right back in the dirt where you came from. You will be executed in the slum, and guess who will give you this punishment?’
Machiavel patted the sergeant on the back ‘our newly Promoted captain’
Saying it with some fanfare.
‘So Captain Michaels, will you do as commanded, and kill this liar?’
Michaels watched Bryant being taken away and through gritted teeth said:
‘It would be my pleasure…..Sire’
