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It was a stark reminder that they did not answer me. They answered to their chieftains. I wondered what they would tell their leaders. Would they act as spies? Would they do what was best for the empire? Or for themselves?
I had already witnessed several angry glances between my honor guard members. The only thing keeping them from attacking each other was the dishonor they would bring to their tribe if they acted on their baser instincts.
Why could they not get it into their thick skulls? We were not going to survive if we failed to work together.
We approached a door built into the solid flint of the mountain. A member of my guard took position on either side of the war room door.
Inside, the other two soldiers took position inside the room.
And I thought about Garrick, the chief of the emperor’s guard in the palace. He might just be the only honest member of the upper echelons of power in the palace.
Had Garrick known about chief advisor Slak?
I shook my head. Easier to believe the Sun would stop shining, the planets stop revolving. He was a man of duty and honor. It was more likely my own arm would turn against me than him.
I entered the war room. The four chieftains immediately stopped bickering and dropped to their knees in supplication.
“Rise,” I said. “In fact, I don’t want you or anyone else to bow to me in the Fallen Temple. We have work to do and we can’t afford to waste it with idle tradition.”
“But sir,” A’nshon said, his eye scar puckering with concern. “It’s an honorable gesture—”
“I know it is,” I said. “But it’s unnecessary. We’re Titans, aren’t we? We should focus on fighting the Changelings.”
I could see the counter arguments on their minds but none of them dared voice them.
Yet another tradition.
No one could argue or disagree with the emperor.
His words were gospel and never, ever wrong.
Except to Hazel.
To her, my words were often wrong. My lips quirked into a smile.
Sensing I was in a good mood, Nus stepped forward.
“Sir, if I may,” she said. “The people need you to be the emperor. They look up to you. They need a symbol of hope to believe in. You’re the best of us. If we take traditions away from them, you become less… important. We need you as the powerful symbol you are. To lead us. It might frustrate you, but it might be bearable if it leads to us winning the battle, don’t you think?”
She bowed once more for emphasis.
I couldn’t help but smile. Nus was the female Titan chief of the smallest local Titan clan. One of the other clans should have conquered them years ago but they had avoided that fate with cunning and deception. It was perhaps no surprise she was the one to come up with this idea.
“Very well, Nus,” I said. “We’ll keep the traditions, so long as they aid our goals. We don’t have much time, so if we’re going to come up with battle plan ideas, we need to be able to criticize each other without causing a fight inside our own ranks. Understood?”
The chieftains eyed each other uncertainly before nodding their acceptance. I was an idiot if I thought just because they agreed that there would be no other issues.
Besides, this wasn’t the first time an emperor encouraged fair discussion of ideas. The emperor heard what his allies had to say and then had many of them executed because they criticized him.
But I was not my great great grandfather.
I was me.
On the large table was a to-scale model of the local area. The local towns were mapped out in detail, along with sprawling forests and deep valleys. The palace—my palace—was perched on a hilltop, overlooking the nearest town, Okem.
“So, what do we know?” I said.
“Very little, unfortunately,” A’nshon said. “The few reports we’ve received come from traders. They report the Changeling army keeps an iron fist around the town of Okem and the majority of their best forces are in the palace.”
