A man in his position could never have too many ears, Jonah thought. He went to Gaius Prospero immediately.

“I have found Arcas, but his condition was so poor that I sent him to be bathed and barbered properly before I bring him into your presence. I know how delicate your nose is, my lord emperor,” Jonah said. “It would seem King Archeron has exiled him, and cast him off as a son. He has been earning his living as a reader and a scribe.”

“Then he will be more than willing to cooperate with us, will he not, dear Jonah,” the emperor said, pleased. “He will come before me, but I shall leave the management of his person to you, Jonah. You always know how to handle people to my advantage.”

“My fate is tied to your success, my lord emperor,” Jonah replied, “and I am a man who desires great success.”

Gaius Prospero laughed, delighted by the admission, and Jonah withdrew to wait for Arcas to be returned to him. And while he did he gave certain orders to his own minions. Finally Arcas reappeared, and Jonah nodded, pleased. Arcas had been scrubbed so that the white of his skin shone again. His blond hair had been cut, and the barber had left just a small fringe of beard upon his pale face. He had been garbed in a simple long dark blue tunic, and new leather boots.

“There is no decoration on my gown,” he complained.

“Remember, you have no status, and decoration is for men of status,” Jonah reminded him. “But you will eventually regain your status, my lord.”

“How?” Arcas demanded in a hard voice. His life over the last months had been wretched, and he found he did not like scraping out an existence. But he was not beaten. “And when do I get to see the emperor? Gaius Prospero owes me a debt.”

“I have already spoken with the emperor, my lord. You will not return to your miserable sleeping space. You have been given a room in the mercantile district above a small shop. You will have privileges in the Pleasure House of Maeve Scarlet. In return you will continue to offer your services as a reader and a scribe. A small awning has been set up for you in the main market. The location will be given you later. And while you go about your daily life you will listen for any scrap of gossip that could be of interest to the emperor. The main marketplace is always a hotbed of gossip both important and unimportant.”

“You want me to spy?” Arcas almost sounded offended. “I was promised a governorship.”

“If you expect to gain that position, my lord,” Jonah said quietly, “you need to show the emperor your total obedience, and just how useful you can be to him. When you are eventually returned to the Coastal province it will not be to rule in your own name, but in the emperor’s name, my lord. Everything you do will be at the emperor’s command. You will be a tool, and nothing more. If you choose not to accept the position currently being offered to you then you will be returned to your sleeping space, but I imagine the landlord has already rented it out by now, housing being what it currently is.”

Arcas looked just briefly as if he wanted to physically attack Jonah, but then taking a deep breath he said, “And how much will I be paid in this position?” His voice dripped sarcasm, and his eyes were cold.

“You may keep what you earn as a reader and a scribe,” Jonah said. “Your room and your privileges at Maeve Scarlet’s will be taken care of by my office. If you should bring me a particularly juicy bit of information you will of course be remunerated for it.”

He gave Arcas a quick cold smile. “Are you now ready to see the emperor?”

“I have not said I would accept your offer,” Arcas responded.

“You have not said you would not,” Jonah replied. He turned and walked from the room. When he heard the sound of the step behind him he smiled again, but said nothing, nor did he turn about. Domination was a game he was becoming very good at. Reaching the emperor’s privy chamber he briefly knocked, and entered. “I have brought you Arcas of the Coastal province, my lord emperor,” Jonah said, bowing.

Gaius Prospero was seated behind the great table that served as his workplace. He waved Arcas forward with an impatient hand. “I wish to know where Terah is,” he said without any preamble.

Arcas felt a sudden sensation of doom. His father, curse him, had been right. Hetar wanted the secret of the Coastal Kings, and when they had it, the Kings would fall. But he, Arcas, would be the emperor’s governor then. Curse the Coastal Kings who had exiled him, and forced him into the dirt of the City! “Terah?” he murmured. He wanted to enjoy this moment. He had something Gaius Prospero wanted, and he intended that the emperor pay for it.

“Terah,” Gaius Prospero said in a hard voice.

“Is there not a price to be paid for valuable information, my lord emperor?” Arcas said smugly.

“If you do not tell me what I desire to know,” Gaius Prospero said, “’tis you, Arcas, who will pay that price.” He clapped his hands, and two large men in the uniform of the Torturers’ Guild stepped from the shadows. “Prepare him!” the emperor said.

The torturers moved forward far more swiftly than Arcas thought possible, and pulled him first to his knees, then bent him forward so that his head was almost touching the floor. They ripped the back of his gown open and Arcas’s eyes grew round with surprise as he saw two gnomes run from beneath the emperor’s table carrying a small brazier, which they set upon the floor, and a branding iron that they thrust into the glowing red coals. The room was silent, but Arcas could hear his heart hammering in his chest. He was suddenly very frightened.

“Mark one of his buttocks with my mark,” Gaius Prospero said slowly and thoughtfully. “The left one, I think.”

Arcas’s mouth fell open with shock. “No!” he cried, and the cry grew into a scream as the blazing iron ground into his flesh. His eyes bulged from his face, and a small bubble of foam slipped from the edge of his mouth and ran down his chin.

“Now,” Gaius Prospero said, “unless you wish a brand on your other buttock you will answer my question. Refuse me, and I will spend the remainder of the day watching as you are slowly executed in the most painful ways devised by my torturers. After you are branded a second time there is a lovely metal dildo which is hollow, and can be filled with either coals from the brazier, or ice. I will personally shove it up your fundament, my lord. Where is Terah? I will not ask you again.”

“Across the Sea of Sagitta,” Arcas sobbed. He was a broken man.

The emperor came from behind his worktable, signaling the torturers to draw Arcas to his feet. His cold eyes surveyed the man. “Tell me about it,” he said.

Arcas swayed on his feet. He was very, very pale.

“My lord emperor,” Jonah spoke softly, “perhaps a sip of wine to restore him?”

Gaius Prospero nodded. “Give him some.” Then he waited while Arcas gulped down the wine.

Able to stand on his own two legs again, Arcas shook off the hands of the two torturers. “I can tell you little about Terah, my lord emperor. Not,” he quickly added, “because I do not want to tell you. Because I have never been there. None of our race has. Our vessels meet their vessels at the midpoint of the sea. Or at least what we believe is the midpoint. There we exchange our goods for theirs. They have never permitted us to come farther. It has been that way between our peoples for centuries.”

“How did Lara get to Terah, then?” Gaius Prospero wanted to know.

“I gave her to one of their captains for the Dominus. I hoped to curry his favor,” Arcas admitted.

“What goods do you take from them?” Gaius Prospero demanded.

“All the luxuries that Hetar loves, my lord emperor. The fabrics, the gold and silver products, the gemstones,” Arcas said.

“Your people do not create these products?” the emperor asked.

“No, we trade for them,” Arcas responded.

“You are no better than the Taubyl Traders then,” Gaius Prospero said, and he began to laugh. “What do your people do, Arcas?”

“We fish, we cultivate what we need to eat, we compose songs, and of course we manage our trade with Terah,” was the reply.

The emperor laughed a moment more, and then he grew serious. “For centuries Hetar has revered the Coastal Kings for the beautiful objects they brought to our markets, but it has all been a sham. Your people do little to justify your existence. That, however, will change come the spring. I am told by my Knight Commander who led the invasion of the Outlands that the Coastal province possesses much unused land, land that can be cultivated – and it will be. Your father has already been sent my instructions, Arcas, and he will continue to oversee the Coastal lands. As for you, you will report to my right hand, and obey his every directive. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, my lord emperor,” Arcas said, bowing in servile fashion. He was too terrified to remind Gaius Prospero again of his promise that he, Arcas, would be the governor of the Coastal province. His left buttock burned cruelly with the brand that had been impressed into his soft helpless flesh.

“Excellent,” Gaius Prospero said turning away, and returning to his seat. “You are dismissed, Arcas.”

“Wait for me in my privy chamber,” Jonah instructed the man.

When they were once again alone the emperor looked to the man he called his right hand. “I am almost sorry he cooperated,” he admitted. “I should have enjoyed shoving that dildo into him, and hearing him scream again. He thought I was weak, and that he could manipulate me, the fool!”

“In time you will have your amusement with him, my lord emperor. I am sure he would make a nice toy for the lady Anora to play with, don’t you think?”

“You are brilliant, Jonah! Of course that is just what I shall do. When he is no longer of use to us, Anora and I shall have him. She will enjoy that. It will please her greatly. I hope he will not die too quickly.”